#they're terrified of him i know it. some are even more scared of him than of vegas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oepionie · 1 year

Text

—VOICELINES ABOUT YOU. various

Synopsis: Yuuken interrogates some of the boys on the campus about their special someone. Hearing their loving ramblings on you was certainly not what he expected.

Tags: Self-Indulgent, Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard, Reader is not Yuu, Tweels are a bit...too mad in love, I brainrotted so hard, You're Malleus' fiancee, Malleus doesn't know how to tell a joke someone help him

Cw. Riddle's Mother, Overworking, Hospitalizations, Poor living conditions, Illness, Bullying, Allusions to violence, Marriage, Tad bit of possesive behavior, Description of stabbing

WordCount: 2k+ | 💌Masterlist

R.R | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

About: Riddle's Rose

"Rose? I see you've met that troublesome intern at the library. That's a nickname. Their name is (Y/N) and yes, they are my partner." "A-Ah? I'm so direct? Well, you asked me a question! Though...I would prefer that this discussion end here. I prefer to keep my relationship with them private.”

Chat: Childhood Memories

“Ever since we were young, (Y/N) was quite rebellious. The complete opposite of me as a child, really. They were always sneaking off during the night and coming over to visit me. Mother...didn't approve of them and often screamed in their face. I was quite terrified she would scare them away, though that didn't stop them at all. Haha, I think they got even more persistent afterwards. I am truly glad I met them.”

Personal Story: To the Hospital

“Again...? I see. Thank you, Trey. Hmph, I'll have to schedule another visit once more."

> "Riddle? What's wrong?"

"Ah, Yuuken—It's Rose. They've gotten admitted to the hospital...again. (Y/N) is quite impulsive and tends to bite off more than they can chew. On more than occasion, like now, I would find out about their hospital admissions via Trey days or even weeks after."

>"Aren't you dating? Why aren't they telling you?"

"They claim that they withhold the information from me out of concern for my workload or out of fear of being a burden. Though that is—a sentiment I don't understand. Nothing is more important to me than their health."

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R.B | RUGGIE BUCCHI

About: The Photo In His Wallet

"Where is it?! Man, I'm so fucked if I lost it—Oh?! Oi, Yuuken! That wallet's mine! Man, thanks a lot. I really would've been screwed over if it weren't for you." "Eh? The photo? Shishishishi curious, aren't cha? Hmmm...how 'bout this? You get me a steaming hot meat bun and I'll give you a story time about them."

Chat: A Hopeful Future

"My studies? Course I take them seriously! That's what's gonna' put food on the table one day. Plus, I wanna' give (Y/N) the life they deserve—What'd I mean? Well, if I'm going to be their husband, I want 'em to live comfortably. It's not like we need anythin' luxurious, anyways. As long as we're together and there's enough food to go by, it's going to be all right."

Personal Story: In Sickness and In Health

"....that's good to hear. Please look after 'em, granny. Love ya." The call ends and Ruggie sighs. "That's the best news I've received since."

>"News?"

"Guh-?! Man! What's with you and sneaking up on me!? Yeah yeah—you heard right...news. Granny just called me to talk about (Y/N), their health is looking up. Tell ya' what, I knew that deal with Azul was worth it. I managed to snag some medicine and send it home."

>"Oh? Medicine?"

"Yeah. Ever since my first year of high school, they were sick and bedridden. (Y/N)'s parents don't have enough money for a doctor, so there's not much they can do. Of course, I'm out here doin' my best to help too."

"I really...I really wanna see them up and runnin' again. Hey, who knows—maybe we'll get to make flower crowns for the village kids again...together."

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A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO

About: An Interrogation

"Yuuken, you’ve met (Y/N), I hear. Well, as their partner, it's only right that I ask you about it. I assume you don't mind. So, what is your opinion of them? Nothing short of perfection, I hope."

"Hm? You think they're nice? Good then."

Chat: Busy Octoboss

"With all the deals, my maintenance of my academic ranking, and my position as Monstro Lounge's manager, my workload is quite substantial compared to most. And, I regret to say that it does get in the way of my personal life, including quality time with my lover. It tears at my heart, yet I cherish how they're so understanding and patient. Still, sometimes I can't help but think I am undeserving of them..."

Personal Story: Deep Sea Bonds

"My childhood is not something that I appreciate or want to remember. Yet, despite everything I've been through, I do think it is pleasant to look back on the days when I met them. You see, (Y/N) was bullied too. They were just like me, relentlessly bad mouthed and hurt by the kids around us. However, they never failed to greet me every day with a bright smile on their face."

>"What a sunny person."

"They'd also always have the courage and bravery to stand up for me, often taking the brunt of the bullying. I wish I could say I did the same for them...but I was far too cowardly back then..."

>"Wow. You two must be really close, then."

"Of course. They've been through a lot.Which is exactly why I won't allow anyone to speak ill of them anymore." Azul pauses, smiling slyly. "Say, Yuuken. You'll tell me if anyone casts aspersions on my Angelfish, won't you?"

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J.L | JADE LEECH

About: A Helping Hand

"Hm? What's that? Ah, you’ve met my darling pearl. I see. I do notice how you’ve been frequenting Monstro Lounge lately…Have you perhaps acquired a romantic interest towards them? No? Hehe, Alright." "Now, to answer your question, yes, that is right; (Y/N) routinely comes over to visit and aid me in my Mountain Treks. I couldn't be more grateful for their assistance."

Chat: The Pearl Ring

"Oya? I see you're curious about the ring I've been crafting. Well, it's for (Y/N). You see, in merfolk culture, we create handcrafted jewelry to serve as a courting gift. This is one of many ornaments I plan on giving them. Though, this one is...particularly unique. Ah, well...(Y/N) Leech does have a nice ring to it, does it not?"

Personal Story: A Jaded Reaction

"Oya? (Y/N) is spending the night at Ramshackle? Whatever reason for?"

>"Grim wanted to have a game night."

"Ah. I see. How...lovely. What's that? My smile is frightening you? Oho, now is it? Hehe, my deepest apologies. We eels tend to be quite...protective. I so anticipate you to take good care of them. And fret not, as long as you keep them away from any harm, no disputes shall arise."

>"Uh...and if something happened?"

"What if something happened...? Well, I'm sure you wouldn't mind being hunted down the face of the earth, tied up, and pulled down to the deepest pits of the blue ocean, where no one can hear your anguished cries for help...Would you?"

>"..."

"Just joking. I would never do that."

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F.L | FLOYD LEECH

About: A Sea Walnut

"(Y/N)? Aha~~~ You've heard of my little sea walnut? They're so adorable and squishy, yanno!—Is there a problem? If you got a problem with 'em, I'll squeeze you." "Oh? Not scared at all, huh? Ehe~ You sure are ballsy. Tread carefully now, shrimpy~!"

About: Ocean Currents

"Whenever a strong ocean current comes, sea walnut always huddles close to me and grabs my arm. They've always been afraid of being blasted away."

"They used to do that a lot when we were kids, but it never gets old. Hehe~ Sometimes, I lead them to places where the waves are strong, jus' so they can cling onto me! It's so funny to see 'em get afraid and scramble after me when I move too far away. "

Personal Story: Shark Attack

"Hmm~? Oh, what're these bite marks? Rad, aren't they? I got them after fighting a buncha' sharks."

>"Sharks?! Why would you do that?"

"To get these. It's shark teeth. Our anniversary is comin' up, and Jade suggested that I should make some jewelry for them. It's a merfolk courting thing. Azul 'n Jade told me to get them pearls, but I thought that was boring. So, I'm making one with shark teeth instead! Isn't that cool~?"

>"I-I guess, but what happened to the sharks?"

"Ugh. None of them were a fun hunt. The entire hoard swam away so fast. Can you believe it???… I’m not the typa eel who would let my prey get away that easily, though. And it’s not like I had anything better to do. Ehehe! There were so many of those sharks swarming around, but I managed to squeeze them all! Well, it was worth it in the end cuz I got what I wanted. I'll do anythin' for my little sea walnut~"

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J.V | JAMIL VIPER

About: A Hearty Meal

“What am i doing? Well, I'm making some Roast Chicken with Sumac Flatbread. Oh? Who's (Y/N)? Ah, Kalim must have told you, huh. (Y/N) is my partner. They are truly wonderful."

"For example—Though I like to think I'm skilled at disguising my true feelings, the moment I go to see them, they already know what I'm thinking. They have a keen sense of intuition and always seem to know what I need and when I need it. Truly, I'm grateful for such a caring—Ah, I'm sorry. I was rambling again."

Chat: Snake-Eyed Envy

"I can't dispute that a lot of people back home are vying for their affection.That bothers me at times. As Kalim's babysitter-ehem, retainer, I don't have enough time to check in on them every day...However, as cheesy as it sounds, I have yet to meet someone who is as smitten with (Y/N) as I am."

Personal Story: World Left Unsaid

"I soon understood that I was more than the circumstances of my birth, all thanks to (Y/N). In fact, My bond with Kalim has become stronger and more genuine thanks to them. I...realized my hatred for Kalim was just my desire for my circumstances to be different...I didn't hate him at all. Without (Y/N), I would never have understood it."

>"They must be very important to you, Jamil."

"Absolutely. I was terrified that I might lose them after my overblot. But to my surprise, they stayed with me. Naturally, it hurt them, but they were really compassionate towards me and about how much I had to go through."

>"Do they know of what you feel?"

"I...I don't think (Y/N) realizes just how much I cherish them. I don't think now's the right time for that though. I've hurt them too much and I still have a long way to go before I fix things."

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M.D | MALLEUS DRACONIA

About: He's Engaged?!

"I am, indeed, betrothed. Heh. Why are you looking so bewildered, Child of Man? If I'm going to be a king someday, it only makes sense that I would need someone to reign alongside me, no? At first glance, (Y/N) may seem aloof, but as you get to know them more, you'll see that they are actually incredibly lovely and warm."

"You never thought I was one for romance? My, my... What a bold statement, you best learn how to hold your tongue. Have you considered that I could use lightning to smite you where you stand?...Now, now—That was a joke. You don't have to cower in fear."

Chat: Safe And Sound

"My precious treasure tells me that I tend to get protective at times. Though can you really fault a lover for wanting to protect the one who is most important to them in this cruel, ruthless world. One where others will not hesitate to turn on you?"

Personal Story: The Art Of War

"I am actually the first of my lineage to wed someone who is not a noble. You see, (Y/N) is a knight-in-training. And, as you can probably guess, they served as my retainer. To see them at work was truly a magnificent sight to witness. They command attention and radiate strength. While I had always admired them, I could not bring myself to express my true feelings to them. Until...that night."

>"That night?"

"Yes. On the evening of Silver's 16th birthday, someone had rushed at me with a dagger in hand. (Y/N) was the first to respond and took the hit for me...The sound of their screams as the knife tore through their flesh was truly...horrifying."

>"That's horrible! What happened to the guy?"

"Worry not, he was taken care of accordingly....If there is anything I’ve learned from Lilia's many teachings, it’s that the worst calamities that befall an army arise from hesitation. To avoid further offensives, one must deal with and eliminate adversaries as soon as possible. Don't you think so?"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and are very motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @chuuchuudreams @taruruchi

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sanguineterrain · 22 days

Note

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

#jason todd x reader #Jason todd x you #Red Hood x reader #Red Hood x you #Red Hood fanfiction #Jason todd fanfiction #Jason todd imagine #Red Hood imagine #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #dc imagine #Jason todd x gn reader #inbox #blurb

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months

Note

I came back from the movie theaters (Fnaf Movie) My lord I FREAKING LOVED IT THE WHOLE THING IDC AHHH Ahem-

I saw that requests are open, SO a Platonic Headcanon Request if you don't mind, Fnaf (Movie) Animatronics with Gender-Neutral (17-soon to be 18) Reader as the new security guard? or maybe tags with Mike and possibly Abby? (Reader ain't tall just-idk 5'2 maybe I am projecting-)

(I know this request doesn't make sense because of the tiredness due to staying up late because of excitement. Feel free to delete this ask if its too complicated)

bonus: If you want to, You can also Include Chica's Cupcake

Have a nice day/night, From 📞 ☕ (PhoneCoffee) Anon

Oh I can definitely work with this ^^

......

When you started working at Freddy's overnight, you hoped this would be your last summer job ever before you turned 18.

"Steve" said it was all pretty straightforward: watch the cameras and make sure nobody broke in.

Easy as pizza pie, right?

Well, when you realized one of the animatronics very subtly moved from their usual spot, you wanted to check them out for yourself.

Plus, sitting in the office for six hours every night would def get boring as hell.

So you head to the main stage area, finding the whole gang mysteriously gone--Foxy included.

Then you get surprised by them emerging from different places in the pizzeria, eyes glowing a sinister yellow as they surround you, wary of your intentions.

"O-Oh hey..um..Fazgang?" You try your best not to look so terrified.

Surely someone was controlling them, right? They couldn't possibly hurt you.

Yet they stop and collectively realize "wait, isn't this a teenager? And why are they working this job??"

But since you're not wrecking anything in the pizzeria (or screaming bloody murder unlike the last guard), they spare you and are just very chill overall.

You now start to believe all the rumors of them being haunted by little children.....although not even that scares you.

On the second night, you learn that they can understand simple drawings--and that's how you pretty much communicate with them and build up trust.

While Bonnie is regarded as the "most aggressive", he was a real sweetheart who let you shine his guitar and hugged you tightly to express his thanks.

Alas you haven't found a way to stop it from constantly short-circuiting when he strums it...but you vow to figure something out.

Chica was equally as sweet, although for some reason Carl the Cupcake made you feel nervous.

The way he can be on the plate one moment and then disappear the next makes you worried that he'll sneak up on you and bite your ankles off.

But as long as Chica's around, that won't ever happen.

Although Foxy looks quite dangerous, you try your best to patch up the hole in his chest using some spare parts from backstage while being oblivious to the deadly Freddy mask saw trap in the corner, something he's grateful for.

He even sang you a little sea shanty as thanks!

Freddy was the first to be suspicious of you, but after seeing a drawing you made of him, he grows to like your presence, too. Especially after how nice you've been to his bandmates.

So you definitely survived more than five nights at this place--longer than anyone so far.

When Mike gets hired and comes in for his first shift with you, he's surprised that a teen is training him.

He suspects this was some lousy summer job you were forced to get and thinks you're gonna act miserable the entire time you work together and not actually teach him shit.

But as it turns out, you love your job!

You show him the Fazgang during their "showtime" performance and assure him that while they may look creepy, they're not bad at all.

And while you're not getting paid extra to do simple maintenance on them, you still enjoy trying to keep them in tip-top shape (especially Foxy, who needs repairs the most).

Mike seriously thinks you shouldn't be doing that as it's not in the job description AND it could be dangerous.

Even if you have expertise in robotics, he still thinks it's not worth losing a limb or finger to those complex contraptions.

Like he almost did after getting near a springlock suit.

But you just teasingly remind him who the trainer is..and he goes quiet.

Foxy overhears this, and you see him snickering from behind the Pirate's Cove curtain, amused by you basically schooling this 25-27 year old man.

Unfortunately he startled poor Mike, who looks over quickly.....only to find the fox standing in his usual position, acting completely normal.

"Was he just laughing at us...?"

"Nope." You play dumb, shrugging. "Must be his voice box malfunctioning....c'mon. Let's see if we can fix that."

Least to say, you're not gonna let him sleep on the job anytime soon.

#clanask #phone coffee anon #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #platonic #teen reader #mike schmidt #freddy fazbear #bonnie the bunny #chica the chicken #foxy the pirate #headcanons

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auroreliis · 9 months

Note

Hey! I loved your Batfam movie night post. If you have the time could you write a fic with the platonic yandere Batfam and a sick reader. Maybe reader refuses to take any medication and the fam has to get them to take it. Or maybe reader is so fevered that they sob when someone (probably Bruce) isn’t holding them. Thanks for your time!!

Platonic Yandere!Batfam

Summary: You're sick

CW: no warnings

(not edited or proofread)

Richard let out an exasperated breath as he paced around in front of your bedroom door.

"Why do they have to be so difficult?", he mumbled under his breath, not intending for it to be heard, but Bruce made out what he said.

Silence filled the room for a few moments, the only noise being Dick's footsteps, before Bruce spoke, "I'll ground them", he begun, before adding, "And I'll take away their phone."

Richard stopped and turned to him, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw hanging low, signaling disbelief.

"Are you kidding me? What exactly will that change? Just force them to take the medicine already!", fumed the younger of the two, clearly worried about you.

"No", said Bruce and Richard slightly leaned forward, as if he misheard.

"No? Why not? Don't you understand that they're sick? They're pale, trembling, weak and-"

"Stop", Bruce's words concluded the argument, "You'll wake them if you continue shouting."

Richard flinched. He couldn't help it.

His heart ached at the thought of you being in pain. It was even worse now that you had refused to take your medicine.

As your older brother, it's his job to protect you, but you're being so difficult.

Although he wanted to continue the argument in hopes of changine Bruce's mind, it was clear that they were done.

His jaw clenched to stop himself from saying anything stupid and with that he stormed off.

Bruce let out a sigh and leaned on a nearby wall. He was so tired. His energy was completely depleted from his worry.

Worry? No, it was more like fear.

Bruce was terrified. You were sick and had refused to take your medicine. He knows how serious certain illnesses can be, but you just refuse to take care of yourself.

You're doing nothing other than proving them right that you need them.

However, he's your father. He would never force you to take medicine. Deep down, he feels like he owes you at least a little freedom of choice, considering that you didn't want to be there in the first place.

His palm drags across his face, not fearing that he'll scratch his skin off, instead ruminating on his further course of action.

A cough made his eyes widen. It was your voice.

He rushed into your room and for a moment you were convinced he was going to trip.

"Is everything okay?", his voice was slightly shaky, as if he were trying to hide how scared he was for you. Going off how swiftly he shut his mouth, one would assume that he had planned to add more questions.

You wanted to nod your head, but lacked the strengh to do that, so you chose to hum in affirmation.

With blurred vision, you saw your father slightly bend forward, presumably after exhaling.

"Can you...", you wheezed, before realising that you lacked the lung capacity to go on.

Your father, however, wanted to hear the rest of your sentence.

"I can. I can do anything you want me to. What do you need? Would you like some water? Should Alfred make you some more soup? Would you like me to read you a story? Should I-", he went through all of his options, carefully observing your body language to see if any of his suggestions piqued your interest.

"...Hold me, please", you finally finished.

His gaze softened and his mouth formed a relieved smile as he exhaled. It took him time to answer, "Of course I can."

So you were alright. That was soothing.

His arms held you tightly, still being careful not to hurt you. The two of you layed there in silence.

Patience slowly ran out and before he could stop himself, he questioned you about the medicine.

His tone was gentle and as quiet as he could make it, almost sounding desperate.

You thought about it for a moment, trying to find the shortest way to confess your thoughts.

"Taste...", you croaked.

"Taste? Does it taste bad?", Bruce inquired, before remembering that you had troubles speaking, "I'll make sure you get some better tasting medicine. Will you take it then?"

You smiled and nodded, satisfied with the current arrangement.

No longer being able to stay awake, you drifted off to sleep.

It had been a few days now. Your condition had improved and you were taking the better tasting version of the medicine.

Today it was Dick's turn to feed you.

He was in a much better mood than a few days ago.

"Here comes the airplane- Come on, open up...", the spoon hovered in front of your closed mouth.

Your eyebrows lifted as you looked at him.

"Dick, I'm not thre-", before you could finish, he shoved the spoon into your mouth, causing you to gag.

While you did cough up half of the soup, the rest definitely made it to the intended destination.

After forcing out a few more coughs, you had finally cleared your windpipe, "WHAT THE HELL, DICK?"

"Sorry! Just had to make sure you would actually take it, unlike the medicine!", his innocent smile almost blinded you.

"What if I had choked?" you retorted

"You know that your big brother wouldn't let that happen", he dismissed your words with caretaker speech.

Your temptation to add a snarky remark or roll your eyes was supressed and you instead continued listenting to your brother boast about various topics which you didn't really pay attention to.

The two of you continued to enjoy spending time with each other, if you could call it that.

Under Dick's and Bruce's care, you always recover quickly.

#its only dick and bruce because the others would NOT be any help lol #dick grayson #yandere dick grayson #bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne #dc comics #platonic yandere #platonic batfam #yandere batfam #batfam #x reader

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darkbluekies · 1 year

Text

The witty & uncanny pt 3 (finale)

Doctor!yandere OC x reader x mafia!yandere OC

Summary: Stuck with two yanderes, your life is now turned upside down. You're kept asleep and your body is breaking down. The yanderes have won.

Warnings: yandere duo, drugs/medicine, kidnapping, restraints, bruises, blood, "humiliation", “infantilization”, mentions of sexual intimacy, changing readers clothes when they're unconscious, throwing up, following reader to bathroom, washing reader, open ending, indication of reader dying(?), unhealthy behavior, toxicity, reader breaking(?), indication of Stockholm syndrome/giving in.

Word count: 5.8k

Part 2 the outtakes

You run the quickest you can, only hearing your own heartbeat in your own ears. You’ve never been this terrified in your entire life. The gun is still safely tucked away into the pocket of your black hoodie. Your legs are aching badly by now and soon enough, you have to stop to rest. Despite all the adrenaline you’re pumping in your veins, you’re still human. With a quick look around to make sure that you’re alone, you sink down with your back against a tree. You feel for the gun and sigh out, relieved that it's still there. You’re unsure if it is going to help you in this twisted situation, but you’re going to try your best. You can’t do more than that.

“Y/N!” Silas says.

You look around, seeing him stand a few meters away. In panic, you shoot up on your feet, but your legs refuse to move further. All you want is to run away, but the sight of him scares you to your core. But you know you have to flee before he wins again. He can’t win again, can’t get what he want. You pick up the gun in a shaking hand, hoping to see him scared … but all he does is smile. A nostalgic, almost fatherly smile.

“My favorite gun, I’ve missed it”, he says calmly and lifts his dark eyes to you. “But I’ve missed its new owner even more.”

“Leave me alone”, you warn him with make believe courage, “or else I’m going to shoot you.”

Silas lifts a black eyebrow. “Shoot me?”

“I shot the doctor.”

Silas smiles wider and takes a step forward. You force yourself to stand still with your head high. You can’t show how terrified you really are. He’s like a demon, he feeds of off your fear.

“I must be a bad influence on you, my little thing”, he snickers, putting his hand over his heart. “I never wanted you to take after me. It’s not safe for you. You’re my precious little darling, you shouldn’t run around with a gun. Give it to me and I will take you home safely.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You really think that? You don’t think I have taken measures to make sure that you’re leaving with me?”

You're about to turn around and run when someone comes up behind you locks their arm around your waist. With a surprised yelp, your back gets pressed into a taller man's build. You squirm around and manage to catch a glimpse of the blonde doctor’s face behind you. You freeze and look back at Silas who’s grinning ear to ear. Less than a second later, a sharp pain from a needle shoots through your neck.

"Sleep tight", Dr Kry whispers.

You wake up in the same room you escaped from weeks ago. The only difference? Both your wrists are secured to the railings of the metallic bed by what looks like belt buckles. You start to wiggle your hands in hope of them slipping out, but whoever’s tied you has made sure that you’re not going anywhere.

The room is foggy no matter how much you blink. You wish you could rub your eyes, but your hands won’t move.

You try to speak, but you break out in coughs. Your throat is drier than a desert.

“They’re awake”, Silas says.

“Good”, Dr Kry answers.

“They don’t sound too good.”

“Just a side effect from the drug. They need to drink some water.”

You gasp, seeing the doctor move towards you with a paper mug in his hands. The closer he comes, the more you fight against the restraints. If he put drugs in your neck that easily, who knows what he could have put in the water?

“Be careful”, Dr Kry whispers and sits down on a rolling stool next to your bed. He helps you sit up before placing the paper mug to your lips. “Drink a little.”

You shake your head frantically.

“It’s just water, Y/N”, Dr Kry reassures you and takes a sip himself. “See? Harmless.”

"I don't want anything from you."

You start to squirm against the restraints again. You start to move your legs and manage to kick the paper mug out of his hands. The water splashes over his legs and your blanket. Dr Kry sighs heavily and for a second you’re scared that he’s going to do something to you. You shouldn't have acted so impulsive. Instead, he stands up and wipes his blue overalls.

“Seems like you have everything in control”, Silas snorts.

“As if you could do this better”, Dr Kry says and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I know I can.”

Silas picks up the paper cup, walks into the bathroom and returns. You watch him carefully, studying his every step as you involuntarily shrink. You know very well what Silas is capable of and what he does when he’s denied anything.

Silas walks over to you, standing right beside your body. You force yourself to keep your eyes on the clock on the wall, to ignore his presence. Silas leans down to your ear.

“Either you drink this voluntarily or I’m forcing you to”, he whispers.

His hot breath fans your ear in an uncomfortable, animalistic manner. You shrink and swallow, nodding unnoticeably. Silas holds the cup to your lips gently and you open your mouth, letting the water in. Dr Kry watches in amazement how you swallow every single drop of the water. Silas smiles smugly and throws the paper cup in the trash.

“See, doc?” he purrs and puts his hand on your head, scratching your scalp. “I know how to control our little beast here.”

"Unbelievable", Dr Kry scoffs.

You finally turn your head away, being done with his embarrassment. You look down, noticing something.

"Where are my clothes?" you ask in horror.

Sometime during your involuntary nap, at least one of them changed you out of your black hoodie and jeans to a flimsy hospital gown.

"Your clothes are in the backseat of my car", Silas answers calmly. "Since you like to run around the town like a madman, I thought that if you want to do it again, you'll have to look like one as well."

Your mouth falls open "I-I want my clothes! You're striping me off of my individuality!"

"We're keeping you safe", Dr Kry says and grabs his keys. "Now, I'm going down to the cafeteria to get you something to eat. Any requests?"

"If you think I'm stupid enough to eat it-"

"I take that as a 'no', then."

With that said, Dr Kry leaves the room, locking the door behind him. Silas chuckles.

"That cheeky little bastard doesn't trust me", he says, eyes on the door. "He thinks I'm going to steal you away the very second I get you alone."

"Why wouldn't you?" you question.

Silas turns his dark eyes to you. "Because I gave my word to him. Unfortunately."

"So? You haven't kept your word earlier."

"Of course I have."

You scoff. "Like what? Name one time."

"I swore that I'd get you back." He tilts his head. "Didn't I hold that promise very well?"

You don't answer. You have to physically bite your tongue from spitting something out that you'll have to pay for dearly later on.

Dr Kry returns with a paper container.

"I got you meatballs", he says. "I hope that's fine."

"I'm not eating that", you mutter.

"I think you are. I don't think you've forgotten that your hands are a bit occupied — because those restraints seem to hurt — and if you want something, we have to do it for you … which means that we decide if you eat or not. Not you.” He holds the fork to your lips. “Now, open your mouth.”

You turn your head away.

“Don’t be a brat”, Dr Kry says.

“I don’t want to eat that!” you whine. “I don’t trust you!”

“I haven’t done anything to it, Y/N. Open up, please.”

Your stomach growls and you sigh, giving in. You open your mouth slightly, just enough to let the food in. Dr Kry smiles proudly. A string of brown sauce runs down your lips and he catches it with the fork before gently placing it into your mouth again, just like one would do with a baby. You cringe.

“I think our drooly baby here needs a bib”, Silas chuckles from his chair.

His embarrassing comments always ruins the mood. You pull yourself away form the food again and Dr Kry sighs, turning his head to the gang leader.

“Are you serious?” he hisses. “I just made them eat. You’re no help.”

Silas holds up his hands in front of him innocently, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. Dr Kry turns back to you and picks up a new spoonful of mashed potatoes and meatballs. You hesitate while glancing at Silas, waiting for him to make another comment.

“Don’t mind him”, Dr Kry says. “Just focus on me, okay?”

You move your eyes to the doctor. He sighs at your teary eyes.

“Does the restraint hurt?” he asks softly, caressing your left wrist over the belt-looking thing.

You have barely been able to feel the pain from the leather bands holding you down, but they do sting. You nod to his question, although it’s not the reason why you’re crying.

“I will remove them”, Dr Kry promises. “But I’ll have to do something else instead. We don’t quite trust you yet.”

“What are you going to do?” you whisper resentfully.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll see.” He holds the fork to your lips again. “Open up again, please.”

You comply this time. In silence, you manage to eat the entire container full of food.

“Now you should take an afternoon nap”, Dr Kry says.

“I’m not a child”, you spit.

“You sure do act like one”, Silas says, raising one of his dark eyebrows. “Running away, throwing temper tantrums … shooting people.” He stands up from his chair. “If you want to act like one, we’ll treat you like one.”

“Until you start to act like an adult”, Dr Kry adds. “Until then, you better believe that we’ll keep on treating you like you’re five. Now, time for a nap.”

He helps you lie down again. You refuse to close your eyes, refuse to let them out of your sight. They don’t talk much to each other. Silas is sitting in his chair with his phone out and Doctor Kry is by his desk, filing paperwork.

You want to scream when you feel the need to go to the bathroom. For thirty minutes, you try suppressing it. Asking to go feels more humiliating than Silas wanting to give you a baby bib.

“I need to go to the bathroom”, you say lowly.

The two of them look up immediately.

“What did you say?” Dr Kry asks.

“Bathroom”, you repeat shortly.

“Absolutely. I'll help you.”

He stands up and walks over to the bed. You breathe out a sigh of relief as the restraints disappear from your arms. Quickly, you sit up and massage your sore wrists. There’s clear marks after the leather bands, a bit of blood as well. Dr Kry takes your hands in his, inspecting. He hisses.

“We’ll have to put bandage on that”, he says. “You shouldn’t have moved too much.”

Silas walks over to you to inspect your wrists. He twists and turns to see every angle before placing a kiss on both marks. You flinch, ripping your arms back in shock.

“Come now, Y/N”, Dr Kry says and puts his hand on your back. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

“T-Together?” you question.

“You could hurt yourself. There are things in there you could use to harm yourself with. Im not letting that happen.”

Damn him and his professionalism.

You sigh heavily, giving up, silently relieved that it’s not Silas. Dr Kry follows you into the bathroom, standing by in silence. He doesn't give you a spare glance, staying as professional as he is. You wash your hands and sigh at the marks in your wrists.

"Let's get that patched up", he smiles.

"This is humiliating", you say weakly.

"It's just a precaution. I can't let you hurt yourself."

You show your wrists to him, eyebrows raised.

"That is a different case", he says.

A harsh knock can be heard on the door.

"Don't try anything, doc", Silas warns on the other side. "When are you coming out?"

Dr Kry massages his nose bridge with his index finger and thumb, sighing heavily. He unlocks the door and walks you out. While Dr Kry walks over to his desk, Silas walks back to his chair with his phone. You glance towards the door. Whatever Dr Kry had in mind to give you to substitute for the restraints will be sure to keep you bedridden. This is your only chance. None of their eyes are on you. Quickly, you shoot towards the door with all the power you have in your body. As on demand, the two men let go of their things and hurry after. You manage to grab the door handle before Silas has grabbed your shoulders and Dr Kry your arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Silas asks, pulling you back.

"Let go of me!" you shout.

"Doc, whatever you had planned you better use it now."

Doctor Kry jogs over to his desk again and grabs a needle. You squirm in Silas’s grip and plead the doctor to put the syringe away.

"Stay still and it won't hurt as much", Dr Kry says, holding his hand on the base of your throat. "Deep breaths, count backwards from ten."

"No, please!" you scream desperately.

Silas covers your mouth with his rough hand and in the next second, the needle penetrates your skin. What feels like a stinging, burning sensation spirals through your body, effectively numbing it.

"Good job, almost there", Dr Kry praises. "Keep on breathing, you're doing great."

You feel your body growing weak in Silas embrace. He tightens his arms to keep you held up. You eventually stop fighting.

"Good job, Y/N, you did so well", Dr Kry smiles, removing the needle from your neck. "Silas, put them into bed."

Silas scoops you up like a bride on the wedding night and carries you back to your bed. Dr Kry starts to take care of your wrists and soon they're wrapped in white, comfy bandage.

After dinner — which consists of another meatball meal — they decide that you should go to sleep. But you refuse. They could do anything to you when you’re asleep. You don’t want to be moved again, you don’t want to be acknowledged.

“Y/N, close your eyes”, Silas says. “You’re just torturing yourself by being awake.”

“I don’t want to sleep!” you whine.

You wish that you could do something, but your body is feeling heavy and numb. You’re not sure where your limbs are or if they're held by one of the two men. Your body is already asleep, you should be too according to Silas and Dr Kry.

"Alright, I'm done with this", Dr Kry says after a long silence.

He stands up and walks over to the machines by your bed. You scurry to the other side of the bed with the little power you have left in your body.

"What are you doing?" Silas asks. "Don't do something without my approval."

"If Y/N won't sleep voluntarily, I'm going to help them", Dr Kry answers and lifts down a plastic mask connected to one of the machines by a tube. He pulls out a rubber band thats supposed to hold the mask latched onto the face. "Here, let me just put this over your nose and mouth-"

You cover the lower part of your face with your shaking hands. Your eyes glow with fear. They can numb your body until it's unmovable, but your eyes will always stay alert and alive.

"Y/N, please", Dr Kry sighs, putting his free hand over yours, about to pry yours off your face. "Just let me-"

You hide your face down in your arm. He stops and looks at you. Your body is trembling like a leaf swirling in the wind.

"Y/N, it's just anesthesia", he says comfortingly. "It'll help your mind relax so you can sleep. It's not going to hurt you."

He tries to move close again, but your crying halts his movements.

"Please …", you whisper weakly, shaking your head. "Please don't …"

Dr Kry sighs heavily, looks at Silas and then places the plastic mask on your stomach in defeat.

"Alright", he says. "I'm not going to force you. If you want to use it, just hold it over your mouth and inhale the gas."

He returns to his desk. Silas is about to stand up, but a particular strict gaze from the doctor makes him sit down again. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. Sometimes you wonder if Silas is the one behaving like a child. After all, he throws tantrums, runs away from problems and shoots people. But if you said that out loud, you'd spend a month in his basement.

You stay awake for another hour out of spite, but you can feel how your body wants the sweet prize of sleep. You try to shut your eyes and drift of to sleep, but all the worries and thoughts about what they could do to you when you're out is stopping you from actually falling asleep. Your head is pounding with fear and minute by minute, you're slowly drifting to insanity.

You glance at the mask and hesitantly lift it to your face, making sure to cover both nose and mouth. Carefully, you give in and breathe the strong gas into your lungs. It doesn't take long until your head clouds up. The mask slips out of your hands and your head rests against the pillow.

Dr Kry looks up from his papers and sighs out in relief. Quietly, he moves over to you and picks up the mask, pulling out the rubber band to wrap around your head. The mask stays in place over your face.

"How long will that work?" Silas asks and stands up.

"It'll work for as long as we keep the mask on them", Dr Kry says. "We can make them sleep for as long as we want."

Silas fixes a strand of your hair that has been caught by the rubber band with a gentle smile.

"Are they usually this difficult?" Dr Kry wonders, raising a blonde eyebrow.

"Yes", Silas says. "That's why I've managed to develop a technique. You can't be soft with them, you have to be strict and force them. Otherwise they'll refuse and fight. Like today."

"No wonder they hate you."

Silas picks up the gun he stole back from you, placing it under Dr Kry’s chin. The blonde man doesn't react.

"They don't hate me", Silas growls. "Don't make me fucking shoot you."

"Are we back to this?" Dr Kry sighs, nodding his chin down on the gun testingly. "I have told you were to happen if you shoot me here. I wouldn't test my luck if I were you."

"You're such a clever thing, aren't you? God, you piss me off."

Nonetheless, Silas puts the gun back in his waistband. Dr Kry looks down at his phone, looking annoyed.

"I have to go help another doctor with a surgery, can you watch Y/N?" he asks. "Don't leave the room unless necessary and don't touch anything. Wrong button and you've hurt them."

"What will stop me from going through your drawers?"

"Your morality, I hope. I'll see you later."

With that said, he walks out and locks the door.

“‘Don't leave’, he said”, Silas scoffs and strolls over to your bed, lying down beside you. “How the fuck did he think I'd do that if he locks the door? My pretty baby, you are so precious, that pesky doctor doesn't know how to handle you.”

He knows you can’t hear him, but he finds it nicely to talk to you without you cursing at him in return. Silas smiles at you and pulls you closer to his body, hiding your face into his chest. He secures the rubber band in the back of your head with a small smile.

“Get the fuck of out the bed”, Dr Kry sighs as he enters the room two hours later. “You’ll break it.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I broke a bed”, Silas grins, pulling you closer to his chest.

Dr Kry grimaces. “Oh my God, be quiet, that’s disgusting.”

“Why? You’re a doctor, shouldn’t you be able to talk about those kind of things?”

“Do you ever just keep your mouth shut?”

“I could, but why not use my mouth for the greater good?”

“You’re not Superman, now get out of the bed.”

Silas sighs heavily and rolls his eyes. He starts to move out of the bed gently, making sure that you won’t get hurt. Before walking to the chair, he places a kiss on your forehead. With a smirk, he pets Dr Kry on the shoulder.

“Why so stiff, doc?” he asks amusingly, raising his eyebrows. “Haven’t you gotten laid in a while?”

“My sexlife is none of your business and yours is none of mine, so be quiet”, Dr Kry answers murderously cold and turns to his desk.

Silas smiles widely, almost like a school boy.

“You really like getting on people’s nerves, don’t you?” Dr Kry asks over his shoulder.

“No, just yours”, Silas smiles and sits down in his chair.

Dr Kry grits his teeth. “What an honor.”

Silas looks down at his phone, noticing a new message from his right hand man.

“Those stupid- … I have to go”, he growls and stands up, grabbing his coat. “Seems like I have to do everything myself! I’ll be back in an hour, don’t do anything to Y/N without my approval, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, just go”, Dr Kry says. “If it’s urgent, take the back door, there’s a special elevator for that.”

“Thanks, doc.”

With that said, he runs out. Dr Kry decides to sneak over to you and fix your blanket and mask. He caresses your cheek and sighs out in satisfaction. You look so sweet. So innocent. He touches the bandage on your wrists. Why did you have to fight so harshly? He doesn’t like seeing you hurt.

Dr Kry sits by his desk until Silas is back, an hour later, blood covering his clothes.

“What happened?” Dr Kry gasps.

“Shit happened”, Silas mutters. “Can I take a shower or something?”

“Yeah, sure. There are a towel in the bathroom and a bathrobe for patients. Wash the clothes in the sink and hang them somewhere.”

“Thanks.”

Silas walks into the bathroom and undresses. He thinks about you and the hospital. There’s nothing he’d like more than to bring you home and keep you in his bedroom again, but it’s not safe for you. It never was, but he had nowhere else to keep you. Here, you have doctor Kry to keep an eye on you when he has to work … and no one knows you’re here. Maybe he should keep you here? The doctor has everything necessary to keep you where they want you. Silas sighs and runs his hand through his wet, black hair. The water is hitting him in the face, but there’s something comforting about it.

He returns ten minutes later, wearing the white bathrobe.

“Do you think Y/N could stay here long term?” Silas asks.

“Yes, of course”, Dr Kry answers. “This room is mine, I can keep whoever I want in here for as long as I want.”

“Perfect.” He sits down by your bed, lifting your hand and giving it a gentle kiss. “Doc, if I pay for every medicine you need, could you keep Y/N safe while I’m working?”

“I’d do it even if you didn’t pay me.”

Silas smiles slightly.

Days go by, turning into weeks. You’re kept asleep for the most part, only woken up to use the bathroom, eat and wash yourself. You’re too drowsy and confused to do anything yourself. The two men take turns in helping your limp body. It’s an exhausting, dissociation feeling. You don’t know what time nor day it is when you wake up, and you certainly don’t know how long they’ve kept you asleep. You barely feel real. You’re starting to wonder if the real you is a small spider in the corner of the room, looking at the half dead human in the bed.

You’re sitting completely bare in the bathtub, hugging your knees close to your chest as Silas washes your hair. You don’t care about neither Silas or Dr Kry seeing your most vulnerable areas anymore. They’ve seen it all by now and you’re too gone to care. They’re keeping you alive, you’re grateful for that. Almost … a little too grateful. A guilty, shameful gratefulness. You should take care of your own body, two men shouldn’t have to do it for you! You’re ashamed of letting your life be controlled by them, but you’re happy that they’re taking care of your basic needs — at least. You sigh. You have to get a grip of yourself before it’s too late.

There’s a heavy feeling that has started eating you up from the inside. Something is building up in your stomach and is resting in the bottom of your throat. You want to burp, but you’re not able to, it keeps getting stuck. Every part of your body is aching, everything is wrong and on edge. You can’t take it anymore and finally allow yourself to break down in tears. Silas is quick to turn off the shower and turn your body to him.

“What’s wrong, little thing?” he asks worriedly, fixing your wet hair.

“I feel so sick”, you sob.

“It’s okay, it’s just the medicine. It’ll go away.”

He holds your wet face between his hands and kisses your forehead.

“I know it’s hard”, he says. "But you're my little champion, aren't you?"

Through your tears, you manage to nod. You have to be some kind of champion after everything you’ve been through.

Silas smiles reaches for the shower handle. "Are you doing fine? Should I continue?"

You nod, feeling completely out of it. Is this state making you lose your mind? Why did you kiss him back? Why are you answering him at all? Why are you taking his words to heart? Get a grip on yourself. He continues to wash your hair, now more touchy after your accidental affection. You curl up, sighing. Get a grip.

You're lifted out of the tub in a towel. Silas helps you dress in the bathrobe and makes you stay in front of the mirror while he dries your hair with the towel.

"Look at yourself, look how pretty you are", he smiles, placing a kiss in the top of your head.

You shiver and shake your head. After these last couple of weeks in a make believe coma and being stuck with these men you can no longer feel any empathy towards you. You’re disappointed in yourself for starting to cave in and you look half dead. How can you be pretty?

“You don’t think you’re pretty?” Silas gasps and hugs you from behind. “Nonsense, baby. You’re the most beautiful thing on this wretched planet. I wish you could let me show you how much I adore you.” He kisses your neck. “I’d make you feel so good, make you feel like the only person in the world. You’d never doubt yourself again, I promise. Please, will you let me take care of you?”

You shake your head. If you give yourself to him, you’ll never get out of his grip again and you know that very well. The very thought of it makes you sick to your stomach once again. You hold your hand over your weirdly aching stomach, frowning. Something’s creeping up your throat.

“What’s wrong?” Silas asks.

“I still feel sick”, you whisper. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

Silas acts quickly. He pushes you towards the toilet, forces you down on your knees and opens the lid and pulls your hair out of your face.

“Go for it, I got you”, he says.

As if on commando — and maybe his rough actions — you empty everything Dr Kry’s forced down your throat the last few days. Your body hasn’t been able to digest much correctly when you’ve been forced to sleep for hours on end. You’re not sure much in your body is working right for the moment being.

“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks worriedly and enters the bathroom. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“You’re the doctor!” Silas says. “Shouldn’t you know?”

“I’ll do an examination. When they’re done, take them out to the bed and I’ll take a look.”

Silas nods and turns to you, helping you.

“You’re doing good, Y/N”, Silas says. “Get it out.”

“It smells”, you whine with a grimace.

“You’re a champion, baby, aren’t you? You can push through.”

You whine tiredly. After a few more minutes of pure hell, you’re finally empty. Silas wipes your mouth with some paper and flushes the toilet. He carries you back to the bed where Dr Kry is waiting. You’re sat down.

“Okay, Y/N”, Dr Kry says. “I have some suspicions, but I need to test you.”

He performs a medical test on you to make sure that his medicine hasn't had too bad of an effect on you. He's counted on you feeling weak and heavy, but he couldn't have prepared himself for your digestion giving up.

"What's wrong with me?" you ask carefully, fearing the worst.

"I'm afraid that your digestion might need some help." Dr Kry reaches for the oxygen mask. "I'll figure something out while-"

"No, please don't make me sleep again!"

Dr Kry halts with the mask in hand.

“I think it’s the gas making me like this …”, you say. “Doctor, please don’t make me sleep again, I’ll be quiet and let you work.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them, doc”, Silas says, moving closer to the bed. “Just work.”

Silas sits beside you and lets you play games on his phone. He smiles gently everytime you manage to win a round of Candy Crush. Dr Kry smiles from his desk at your focused facial expressions. The two men relax, finally you’re showing some signs of giving it. You’re not crying, not fighting, just enjoying the moment by distracting yourself. They hope it can stay like this, but they both know all of this is on borrowed time.

“Do you still feel sick?” Dr Kry asks after a while.

“I’m feeling weird, but I’m not sure how to describe it”, you say quietly, suddenly shrinking again when remembering your awful situation. “It’s a bit better after I got to throw up … but I’m scared to eat. I don’t want to feel like that again.”

“I’m going to go get some tea for you to see if it can help your digestion. After that, I think you should go back to sleep.”

Dr Kry leaves the room. You turn to Silas with pleading eyes.

“Why do I have to sleep?” you ask carefully. “I don't want to. It’s so terrifying waking up and not knowing how much time has passed. I’m missing out on life …”

“When you’re asleep, you don’t have to feel any of the bad feelings or see what a horrible place we live in”, Silas answers, fixing your hair. “You’re safe from everything.”

You look down in your lap to get away from those dark, lovesick eyes of his. Silas slides over his phone to you again.

“Distract yourself, baby”, he says. “You’ll soon get some tea and then you’ll be feeling better. Keep on playing your little games. You look so cute when you focus.”

You decide to keep your mouth shut and do what he says. You manage to do two rounds of Subway Surfers before Dr Kry is back with a steaming cup in his hand.

“Here, Y/N”, he says and gives you the cup. “This should get your organs up and running.”

“I won’t throw up again, right?” you ask carefully.

“No, you won’t.”

You sip on it, taking your sweet time with a glance towards the oxygen mask. Will this be your life from now on? Kept asleep and only awoken when someone else wants you to be?

“Are you done?” Dr Kry asks after a while.

You look down in the cup. Empty. You gulp.

“No …”, you lie and pretend to take another sip.

“You’ve been sitting with that for ten minutes now. If you’re not done with it, it’s mostly likely ice cold by now.”

“When I’m done, you’ll make me sleep …”, you say. “So if i don’t finish it you can’t make me.”

“You little brat”, Silas laughs. “You’re so cute.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep, Y/N?” Dr Kry asks. “You’re not having to worry about anything, you can just relax. We’re waking you up when there’s nothing bad happening.”

“It’s not fair”, you whisper, shaking your head.

“Life’s not fair, peach”, Silas says and stands up, grabbing the mask. “Time to nap, little thing. Don’t worry, we will be here to protect you.”

You want to fight back, want to protest, but your body has given up. You know that there’s no use. They’ll get their way no matter how much you disagree. The mask gets once again placed over your face.

“Such a good patient”, Dr Kry praises as if he’s read your thoughts. “Letting us do whatever we want to you.”

You send him a gaze you intend to be a glare, but your head has already fogged up. Silas helps you lay down and the last thing you feel before everything turns into that familiar yet terrifying pitch blackness, is the soft pillow against your back. Silas tucks you in, making sure that none of your limbs are in any uncomfortable position. He sighs, stepping back. The two men look at each other with fear in their eyes, both knowing that this won’t work forever. Today was only one sign of the damage they do to you. Your body will fully break down someday, and that day might be the day they’ll lose you forever. But for now, they’ll keep you in the land of dreams where nothing can hurt you — not even you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere mafia #yandere stories #yandere oc x you #yandere doctor #yandere duo #yandere scenarios #yandere oneshots #yandere series #yandere ocs x reader #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc

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andsomemaniacgotridofthewheel · 3 months

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There are a couple of things about Aziraphale that I think we, as a fandom*, focus too much on and get it slightly wrong in the process.

*= I am talking about the regular Good Omens fandom and Aziraphale fans here, not including the Aziraphale haters, who can skip this post because they wouldn't care or understand anyway.

First of all, yes, Heaven is an abusive work environment. The angels in charge are bullies, while Aziraphale is a sweet little cinnamon roll. Absolutely no question there.

And yes, Aziraphale is scared that his relationship with Crowley is discovered. Again, elementary, my dear Watson.

But he is always much more scared for Crowley, if Hell would ever find out, than he is for himself. He's terrified that something could happen to Crowley (see Edinburgh leading to the whole Holy Water blow-up). He knows, or can at least imagine, what Hell would do to Crowley, and he wouldn't even be able to get to him, much less help. Maybe not even immediately realise when it happened.

But he himself has been lying to God and Heaven from the very beginning (what he says to the Starmaker in Before the Beginning, about not wanting to get him into trouble, proves that he was always wary and filtering his words carefully). He lied directly to God's face right after Eden. And he always got away with it. We see him getting more and more comfortable with it during the millennia.

Yes, he sometimes still gets nervous when he faces a surprise or a new threat and he has to think on his feet, but he does it. Every time.

But we are tending to treat him like a little scaredy cat that lives in constant terror of Heaven, and I don't think that's the case. In later centuries he knows that he can run circles around the archangels when it comes to Earth, because he is the expert and they are absolutely clueless. Earth is his domain, where he holds all the power. (Or at least, all the knowledge, which some philosophies argue is the same.)

And while he is much more naive than his book counterpart in his belief that Heaven is good and Hell is bad, this also isn't as extreme as we sometimes make it out to be.

He knows what Sandalphon did during Sodom and Gomorrah. He knows what God did to people with the Flood. He knows what God did to Job. He was told - or is telling himself - it was just, and even that he already started to doubt. With Job, he knew it wasn't.

He hasn't, as I just read in an otherwise rather similar post, been drilled to believe that the Apocalypse is the end goal. He was taught it was inevitable. That it was Hell's end goal. That Heaven winning (what Hell would start) was inevitable - and just! And that was what made him believe that when he finds a way to make it not inevitable, the other angels would have no choice other than to support him, that God herself would want to support him, because they're supposed to be the good guys. And when he learns that that is not the case, he still immediately goes on to do it by himself. He isn't unsure, after he stepped into the circle, when the military angel tries to draft him for the war, or pondering what he should do. He spends the whole time trying to figure out how to get back to earth, and when he discovers a possibility, he doesn't even hesitate for a second.** And when he leaves Earth to take the job as the Supreme Archangel, he does so because he believes he can change it into what he still thinks it should be, knowing full well what it is.

Now I, personally, am not with the nihilistic / resigned Gen-Z crowd who seem to think that trying to change things is stupid, because only violent revolutions and total destruction of existing structures could achieve any real change, and that Aziraphale somehow has to apologise for believing otherwise and trying. (?) Maybe that's because as an elder millennial I can rest in the knowledge that I won't be around when our planet becomes uninhabitable, or maybe it's because I was actually alive to witness the collapse of the USSR, which, incidentally, was pretty much the same time at which Good Omens was written.

Which brings me to my next point.

I don't want to take anything away from fans who relate to Aziraphale because they themselves have experienced religious trauma. He is certainly a powerful metaphor for it. But Aziraphale the character does not experience religous trauma, because he doesn't experience religion.

The existence of God, of Angels, the creation of the world in 7 days, those are not beliefs for Aziraphale, they are simple facts. He has actually witnessed them, he has worked on some of them himself, he is an angel himself. He knows how everything works (or where it doesn't). He isn't a human who has free will and is supposed to have faith, who gets to interpret and re-interpret and guess at how it all works while forming self-important little groups around it and lay it down as law for anyone who wants to join (or remain). It's simply his job. (Well, job for life, and the whole reason for his own existence, but still his job.) God is literally just his boss. A largely absentee boss, but still his boss. He actually even talked to Her at least once.

For angels and demons, Heaven and Hell are not religions, but simple work environments (with certain accompanying ideologies). In the book, being 30 years older than the show, the two sides are quite open references to the two sides in the cold war, and Crowley and Aziraphale are likened to spies in the field. (Pretty much the only thing remaining from that in the show are the St. James Park Bench scenes.)

And I would like people to start remembering that. Aziraphale is not a traumatized little kid who tries to escape a religious cult. He is a Secret Agent who is walking the very dangerous line of collaborating with an Enemy Secret Agent, undermining both their nations and their ideologies at the same time. (Think John Le Carré characters rather than James Bond.) He is afraid of dangers that are very real, but that he has faced and flaunted during his whole career. He knows what he's doing. Which also means he knows what's at stake. And yeah, that is terrifying, naturally. (Again, John Le Carré writes those kind of spy stories brilliantly.)

But Aziraphale is the fucking Angel of the Eastern Gate. He was issued a flaming sword that he gave away against his orders because he believed it to be the right thing to do. Who befriended his demon enemy because he liked him, more than he ever liked anyone from his own side. And who is basically using the seven deadly sins as a to-do-list. That he has a sweet little face that lights up like a christmas tree when he's happy and in love, or that he still believes in the basic goodness and justice of the world, or that he tries to be kind or at least polite whenever he can, does not take anything away from that.

And for the 2nd Coming in season 3 he will be what Crowley was for Armageddon in season 1: The Inside Man.

**= Here I would also like to add that again, as much as I was disappointed for not getting the tv evangelist scene in the show, book!Aziraphale is still much less naive and more cynical about Heaven's goodness - even while show!Aziraphale's defiance of Heaven is much more outspoken and obvious, I can't actually imagine him delivering the whole "if that's your idea of a morally acceptable time" speech.

#good omens #aziraphale #az fell #azira fell #good omens aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #good omens book #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens thoughts #good omens season 3 #good omens season 1 #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #good omens show #good omens tv show

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lorelune · 8 months

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braised

|| blade x reader || M || captive reader x necrobiome blade || wc: 3.2k || ao3 || previous + next ->

The Stellaron Hunters and their newest prize settle in and find routine.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: HELLO >:3c this lil story has me gripped!! this piece is meant to be read after "scrap metal" but can be read as a standalone. mind the tags and enjoy 💕

CW: dark content, captive/pet reader, violence, implied/partially depicted physical abuse, force-feeding, general talk about food and eating, thoughts of violence toward the reader

"They didn't eat again."

Silver Wolf tosses the metal bowl on the counter with a frown. It’s full, heaped with eggs, kixi wafers, and some yogurt-based sauce. It’s untouched, sauce gelatinized from being out in the open air.

Kafka clicks her tongue from the cockpit, pausing her scrolling. Her gaze flicks up, "Not a bite?"

"Nope." Silver Wolf frowns and fidgets. "They didn't even look at me when I gave them their lunch either."

"They haven't eaten since the day before yesterday then. That’s no good." Kafka sounds concerned, but there's an edge to it.

Blade feels antsy. Out of his skin. He doesn't know why.

“They haven’t been drinking much either.” Silver Wolf frowns. “They’ll shrivel up and die at this rate."

Kafka nods, "That’s more than likely their intention, even if it's a long and foolish way to die. That’s a shame. I thought they'd be better than this."

Blade drums his stiff fingers over the hilt of Shard Sword. He hardly remembers summoning it.

"Bladie, dear? Try and convince them to have a bite or two tonight." Kafka's attention almost drifts back to her phone before she meets his eyes. Her own are clear, pupils intact. "Be careful, though. Hungry pets will still bite the hand that feeds them."

Blade doesn't reply with anything other than a jerky nod. He ferries himself across the ship to a padded training room and shreds two dozen practice dummies until they're nothing more than piles of polymer leather and filler.

...

Kafka had implemented a rotation. A 'feeding schedule' to acclimate you to your new environment, and get you used to your new comrades. You’re pricklier than she originally anticipated, but she doesn't seem concerned.

(If anything, she seems... delighted. She has a spring to her step that she usually doesn't. She leaves your room glowing.)

It’s Blade's turn to bring you dinner. Your meal is piled into the same metal bowl. Heaps of rice, covered in a sticky sauce with chunks of meat and veg. It’s still steaming as he walks silently to your cell— room. cell. He's not sure.

He undoes each lock (seven) and enters your room without any announcement.

The room is... less destroyed than it was yesterday. When Blade brought you lunch the day before, your mattress had been dragged onto the floor, sheets torn to shreds and spread around the room. You’d thrown a book at his head when he'd entered.

(Which he caught and gave back to you. You looked terrified when he got at all close to you.)

Blade didn’t like it. And he isn't sure why.

Today, you're less frantic. Instead, you’re balled up on your mattress, tucked in a corner with your knees up. Your head is down. You only flinch when Blade enters, but don't regard him otherwise.

Blade's frown deepens.

"Dinner," he says, and sets the food on your nightstand. Kafka has replaced the diffuser you broke the day prior. A new one pumps out an herbal-scented mist. "Eat it."

"Just leave it,” you reply, voice scratchy and raw. You rarely speak to him.

"No. Eat it now."

"I will later."

"You won't. You aren't eating."

"And what's it to you?" You unfurl just a fraction and shoot him a glare. It’s angry. vitriolic and guarded. (But a scared stray will bear its teeth and bite, won't they?)

(What is it to Blade? Other than Kafka's order. There’s something there. There has been something there since he saw you muzzled and dead-eyed, and Blade's always half-aware of it. How it refracts and shudders and fills him with such intense unease. He knows the feeling— recognizes it like the scent of an old lover. But he does not like it. It does not feel like it is his.)

He’s struck with the particular urge to throw you against a wall and watch your skull splatter against the metal paneling.

He doesn't. Because his mara isn't that uncontrollable, not now anyway. Instead, he frowns at your scowl.

"You'll die if you don't eat."

"Ah, and if I die, you'll lose an asset, right? I'm not stupid, I know how these things work." You sound... almost petulant. Blade does not know how to approach you, or it, or this attitude.

"You'll die. You shouldn't die. You should eat and live."

"Fuck you." You snap at him, fist balling up in the sheets at your side. You've picked your nails short and raw. "Fuck you."

Blade doesn't know what to do.

He pushes the bowl closer to you on the nightstand before departing.

Kafka catches him as he heads to the training rooms (again, because he needs to shatter a few holograms with his bare fists if he wants to feel close to sane in the next few hours.)

"Any luck, lovely?" Kafka's expression is kind. She must already know.

"No."

Kafka sighs, and shakes her head. "I'll take care of it, Bladie. I suppose we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

...

Kafka is the one to bring you breakfast the next morning. Blade does not normally keep track of Kafka's morning routine, because she is insane, but considering it involves you, he's more keen to it. Kafka prepares a light breakfast of garlic and shash rice, and secondarily, a shake of greens and nutrient powder.

(He... he thinks he knows the substance. Recognizes the acrid, must-driven smell of it, and remembers how awful it tastes. Like bile mixed with metal shavings. Who knows where Kafka acquires it from. He has smudged out memories of choking it down when Kafka first pulled him out of a crater, covered in blood and scarred— but not dead. Never. Never, never dead— )

Blade fractiously goes to your room and waits outside your door. Kafka is still inside when he arrives, speaking to you in that sweet, syrupy tone that drips into muscle and bone like molten metal.

"You need to eat, darling."

"Fuck you—"

"The more you fight, the harder this will be. Why don't you be good and let me help?"

"Don’t fucking touch me—!"

There’s the muffled sound of a struggle, which Blade assumes isn’t much of a struggle because Kafka is far stronger than she looks. Blade leans against the wall, next to your door. He can feel vibrations of a fight in the soles of his shoes through the floor. The thump of a body hitting the wall echoes.

Blade hears crying. You’re crying.

"Oh, tears? I’ve hardly done anything."

"You’re fucking monsters. Just let me go—!"

"You know that won't happen. Play nice.”

"Don't—!"

You sob, probably, and there's another sharp sound of flesh on steel. Blade would've flinched if he wasn’t an abomination.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart. The sooner you give in, the easier this is. This doesn't need to be difficult."

"Get off of me—!"

More struggling. Blade closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. Kafka is ruthless in getting what she wants. She knows how to pry people apart, pick at their inside, and pull strings until they fracture. It is why Elio is such a fan of hers. It is why Blade keeps her close, as she knows the delicate, bowstring dance of keeping his mara in check.

He wonders what Kafka sees in you.

(He wonders what he sees in you. You're nothing like— like— who? Who are you so different from?)

Blade has a headache.

The sounds echoing from your room dissolve into muffled sobs and the occasional sharp cough. A gag. Inhaling and what must be your fist beating against the metallic paneling of the floor. He hears Kafka hush you, over and over. Quietly praising you after each gag and retch.

Blade's not sure how long it goes on before things feel still and quiet.

The sound of a kiss, audible, "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"... F-fuck you.

"Such a filthy mouth. Do you need me to wash your mouth out with soap? I'm happy too."

"Wait, don’t— no—“

Blade realizes his shoulders have hiked up. He forces them to lower. You scream and fight just feet away, really. All that separates you is seven locks.

Kafka seems to be handling things. The sounds continues, and become dull background noise. Shouts and pants fade into his thoughts as they get sap-sticky.

(Someone beloved, something far away. Bitter liquor on each other’s lips. Blade can’t recall the name.)

(A comet with a tail burning yellow. It is cold. A blade, driven into his chest. A blade stabbed into his eye. A blade put sidelong through his skull. A blade splitting his throat. Cold, cold, cold, cold.)

(Do you know cold? Do you know how frostbite turns flesh black? Do you know necrosis? What pain do you know?)

Blade, startlingly, does not want you to know pain. He wants you to eat your meals.

Kafka exits, almost startling him. She does not look surprised to see him hovering. She rearms the locks and glances at him from the corner of her eye.

“Down, loverboy. A scared dog will bite.”

“Do not call me that.”

"Alright, alright,” she laughs and her grin grows sharper. “I’ll be taking care of their meals for the next few days. Listen, grab a medkit, the poor thing needs it. Though, I’ll let them hurt for a while first.”

Kafka walks off, and Blade follows at her heels. There are indentations in Kafka's gloves-- half-moon bite marks of teeth.

He decides he is going to break his own fingers, maybe. He can watch them heal back into place.

It’s meditative.

...

Several days pass with your ‘new routine’. Kafka handles each meal. Blade stays away from your room. The entire wing you’re located in feels nuclear. He stays in the training room. Throws himself at matted walls until his shoulders dislocate, only to pop them back into place to repeat the cycle.

He makes a point to check the kitchen after each of your meal times. There’s always an empty dish, a clean plate. A chunky-looking film left on a glass in the sink. Kafka is diligent, Blade doesn’t doubt this.

The whole thing fills him with unease.

He asks Kafka to wipe his memory, but she denies him. She’s in the cockpit, swiveling in her seat.

“You don’t need that yet, Bladie. Give it some time.”

“But—”

“Discomfort isn’t mara suffocation, dear.”

“You’re patronizing me.”

She sizes him up, sighing, “Listen to me, keep it together. You’re alright. How about this, you can feed your pet starting tomorrow for lunch. Would that make you feel better?”

It would. He’s not sure why.”

“It would.”

Kafka looks pleased with the outcome of the conversation. She tells Blade to get some rest, pats his cheek, which does take the edge off the mara rooting around in his psyche for purchase.

Blade takes a long route through the ship to his chambers. A deliberate path that brings him in front of your door. He doesn’t dare to enter, only listen. It’s late, you could be sleeping given the hour— but Blade can hear you shuffling around. Grumbling to yourself. One of your feet is dragging on the floor as you walk. Blade wonders how it was injured.

He departs after hearing the shifting of your sheets, and the light under your door goes out.

(He feels insane. Insane in a way that isn’t mara-ridden, which is more terrifying. He knows the gnawing beast of Abundance that crawls around inside his skull and bones, he doesn’t know madness that has burrowed itself between his ribs. It feels light, like the carbonation bubbles in the bottled soda back on the Luofu. His palms sweat when he becomes aware of it with each thought of you.)

(Maybe he’ll try tearing out his organs again. That could fix it.)

Blade returns to his room and paces, before stripping and climbing into bed.

It’s only when he’s half-asleep that he realizes he’s hard.

He’s not sure why.

...

Lunch is some takeout. It scalds his hands through the bowl he heaps it into. Braised trelk ribs with scallion and carrot, ladled over a bed of chewy-looking noodles.

"Bladie," Kafka tells him from the cockpit. She glances at him with a curling smile. "Be careful, they're sensitive."

Blade does not know how to be... careful. Not like how Kafka is implying he thinks anyway.

Silver Wolf snorts from her seat, speaking through a bite of noodle, "You’re asking a human-shaped hydrokenia bomb to be 'careful'?"

"Blade's a good boy, I'm sure he'll do great." Kafka's eyes are that spatial, nebula magenta. He feels pleasantly high when she looks at him. "Won’t you?"

"Yes."

Kafka looks pleased, "Listen, take your meal too. Eating with them will get them comfortable."

Silver Wolf raises an eyebrow, "Is that really a good idea?"

"I think so. Blade can handle it if they get testy."

She looks at him with a grin that's collapsed empires and immolated planets. Blade leaves the room with two bowls in his hands.

When he arrives at your cell— room. It's your room. He unlocks the locks methodically and enters without a greeting.

Today, you are not tucked in the corner of your bed. You’re instead perched in the rounded window, gazing at the starscape. Your knees are raised, and your arms are wrapped around yourself. You look small and defeated, eyes darkened and downcast. Blade watches you rub your shoulders.

You look up when he enters. Blade sets the bowl on the ledge next to you, and sets a pair of chopsticks on top, "You will eat."

It's not a command, but a statement of fact.

You scowl, looking so angry. Alive with it. He recognizes vitriol so easily. It's in your eyes and in the way you bare your teeth at him, ready to strike. Maybe you'll bite down on him, into him, until you taste blood. Blade's sure you wouldn't leave a scar— he heals too quickly from the types of flesh wounds to give him a lasting mark.

(There's something enticing about you trying. Blade does not know the floating, filmy part of himself that suggests such a desire.)

You carry Kafka's mark. There are bruises around your throat, the clear shape of hands. There are lumps across your jaw, darkened in color. Scratches of nails over your neck, down to your collarbones. Your eyes are red-rimmed. Your lip is split, barely scabbed over. You're shaking.

You open your mouth, ready to snap. Maybe you'll spit venom— Blade doesn't know your species. You could.

(Blade remembers your expression on different faces from the glitter of your canines. It reminds him— of—? Jingliu was colder. Frigid in her rage. Dan Feng was always so calm with his, Only shattered near the end, like a tide that swelled too high on the shore to swallow the world whole. Your expression is white-hot, like metal pulled fresh from a stoked forge. Desperation and terror make dull teeth sharp. Actions become erratic and desperate.)

(Blade has not remembered so much, so clearly in a long time. He really needs Kafka to wipe his memory again.)

The mara in him writhes. It’s a necrosis, a vitality that has long since sank into his marrow and will not leave. It rolls through him. Blades tips back his head and rolls his shoulders. There's a high to it, followed by an immediate and tumbling withdrawal and dread and clarity—

And it's all interrupted by the little gasp you make. The abrupt jolt you take backward, into the window, closer to the depths of deep space. Your body thumps against the glass.

('Fragile', Kafka had said.)

Your mouth closes, and your bloody lower lip wobbles. Tears glitter on your lash line as you retreat. Maybe, Kafka broke you. She’s good at that.

"Fucking— I-I mean, fine. I’ll fucking eat." You stumble over your words with a sniffle. Your voice is raw and strained. You rub your nose on your sleeve and scramble for the bowl and utensils.

Blade stares as you eat your first bite. Then your second. Followed by your third. You start crying after the fourth, sobbing with the fifth, and hiccupping between mouthfuls. You're eating too fast, occasionally looking at him with an expression he recognizes as terror. He's used to seeing a look like that at the end of his blade. Frozen before draining of blood and death.

He frowns. You should not look that way..

"Slow down," he says, sitting next to you.

You look at him and wipe over your mouth, lips parting, but seem to think better of speaking. You take another bite, chewing slower. Blade picks up his own bowl and eats small, meticulous bites.

(He shared a meal all the time. Shoulder to shoulder with Dan Feng, splitting casks of viridian wine in the moonlight. Food tastes better when someone you... like is near.)

You finish before him, and don't stop crying. If anything, you cry harder. It sounds painful.

Blade pauses his meal, idling. searching. There's something there. A feeling coated in the roots of mara, but... perhaps it's a delicious agony. Not so much a memory, but a want. Something other than— than what and why—

Blade stands. He departs to your bathroom (there are blood stains on the counter) and grabs a cloth towel. He dampens it with water, letting the sink run until it's pleasantly warm.

He sits closer to you when he returns. You flinch away in retreat, leer away as he comes close, hands up—

"Please, don't, what are you—"

"Hold still." Blade grabs your wrist and you wince.

With entirely conscious thought and great effort, he loosens his grip. And... gently, Blade brings the cloth to your face. He dabs around your eyes, then your cheek and nose, and lastly your mouth. you're frozen, wide-eyed, and still shaking.

When he's done, he grabs a blanket from the bed. He wraps it around your shoulders. It feels... somewhat right.

"You should rest." He tells you. "You need it."

Blade thumbs over a swollen round on your jaw. You tremble, eyes wide.

But maybe a little less scared.

"... Are you gonna stay while you finish eating?" You eye his half-full bowl.

"Yes."

"... 'kay... and you're not gonna rough me up like Kafka did?"

"No." He has no plans to.

"... Fine."

You cautiously make your way back to your little bed, sitting at the head of it, and half-slipping under the covers. It's... cute.

(Blade has not thought of anything as cute in several centuries.)

Blade wants to break your legs.

When he finishes, he collects both bowls, and looks around your room. It's sparse, though. There are a few books on the nightstand.

"... Are you bored?"

"Huh?" You ask. You'd been lost in thought, eyes lost. "Oh, I mean. yeah? There's not much to do."

"I'll bring some things. Bear it until then."

"Oh! Okay." You wrap the blanket around your shoulders tighter. "You're... Bladie, right?"

"Just Blade."

"Oh, okay. sorry." You wring your hands. "Thank you, Blade."

The thing in his chest blooms. A monstrous flower, mycelium under acres of land in a network that eats and never dies. Undergrowth that does nothing but rot and grow, grow and rot.

Blade doesn't reply as he leaves the room. He gets halfway to the training wing before he has to pause, withdraw his phone, and send Kafka a frantic text: 'Meet me in the weaponry room.’

He pockets his phone before punching the wall. Clumsy fingers break upon impact, and the indentation of the fist remains in the metal.

#lore writes #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #tw dark content #tw yandere #blade's pov is so :3c #guy is nuts!! bonkers!!!#(affectionate)#alright gonna go farm for fu xuan eheh ENJOY!!

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the-music-maniac · 3 months

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I think what drives me a little crazy (in a good way) about zosan as a ship is - ironically - that they're willing to do the worst possible thing, to sacrifice, for a necessary goal unrelated to their relationship. By that I mean that a common romance trope is an individual being willing to sacrifice the world, anything and anyone else, for their lover, and zosan is...not that. And for some reason that drives me more feral than that other romance trope ever possibly could. I find that more romantic than "I would burn the world for you" and I'll explain why.

The root of their specific willingness to sacrifice isn't a shortage of love or care by any means, but a complete trust and understanding of each other. To the absolute core of who they are. I'm going to refer specifically to that agreement between zosan (that I got spoiled on, so apologies if I get details wrong, I haven't gotten there in the story yet - ALSO spoiler warning if you haven't gotten to around Wano, so click away).

I'm referring to Sanji telling Zoro to kill him if he changes after his stint in Germa, and Zoro agreeing without need for an explanation, telling Sanji to survive until then - that is so fucking romantic to me, and people hold it up as proof that they don't care about each other but to me, it's anything but.

There is a burden of duty to being the wings of the pirate king, and they both take that responsibility seriously. They're both devoted to their captain and to their crew, and to the dreams of their crew. Zoro perhaps more outwardly unwaveringly so, but Sanji is devoted too, different from Zoro but equal in intensity. There are moments when you can TELL they're on the same wavelength, moments where Zoro gives a rare speech on the dynamics of their crew and Sanji is silent because he agrees. Sanji is terrified of hurting his found family, and he's terrified of becoming like his brothers and father. He loves his nakama and so he's willing to sacrifice his own life to prevent from turning into that type of monster.

Zoro is similar. He is willing to die for his nakama, and their dreams. They are in complete understanding of that point. Death itself is not something that scares either of them, there are some things that are worth the price. Potentially for different reasons ahem self worth issues ahem Sanji ahem but that's still something they both understand. Zoro would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat to save Sanji (he already has at Thriller bark), Sanji would do the same (again. Thriller bark), so it's not remotely because they don't care or love each other. They are absolutely willing to give all they are to keep each other from outside harm.

But what happens if the threat to the crew is Sanji himself?

Sanji asks Zoro to be the one to kill him, because Zoro is the only one on the crew who he trusts 100% to do so, to fulfill the promise, who understands. I personally think Luffy would try to save his nakama, even beyond what is possible, at his own detriment. The other crew members would probably do the same (then again I'm still not through the show so feel free to disagree with my interpretation).

But Zoro could do it if it came to that. It would be awful, and it would shatter and change him, irreversibly, heartbreakingly so - I don't agree with people who say Zoro would kill his nakama without hesitation and be fine with it out of loyalty to his captain, Zoro has a heart y'all and he loves his crew - but he could grit his teeth and do it if he realizes it is necessary, that there is no other option. Sanji trusts him to keep his word, to protect the rest of their family. Do you know how telling it is about the level of regard you have for your partner, to trust them to the point where you can easily place the well being of almost all you both treasure into their hands, once you realize you can't be the one to protect it anymore, and know without a shadow of a doubt that it'll be safe as long as it's with them? With knowing they're strong enough to accept the heavy burden of having your blood stain their hands for the rest of their life, the blame for your death on their shoulders, the shadow of you in every single thing they do, inescapable and marking every facet of their life forever? And to trust that they'll not only accept those consequences without hesitation because it's what you asked of them, but will also protect what you both treasure until their last breath, without you even needing to EXPLAIN that that's what you're asking to them to do, because it's the obvious, it's what you've both been doing all this time, it's something you both know so well that no words need to be exchanged, no reassurances need to be given.

And the implication of Sanji wanting Zoro to do this task too, of being okay dying by Zoro's hands because they're equals in every way. Especially since their fighting dynamic is mostly a competitive, I'm stronger than you, I'll never lose to someone as weak as you, blah blah. This is proof that that's not what Sanji and Zoro actually think of each other. Sanji knows that they could kill each other if either of them truly tried for one - wouldn't have asked Zoro to kill him otherwise. Sanji is also fine with Zoro being the one to defeat him. There is an inherent (kinda fucked up) romance to that notion. 'If I have to die, let it be by your hands.'

And on Zoro's part, there's an inherent fucked up romance to keeping your lover close forever because your fingers are stained with the necessity of their blood.

fUCK.

(here is a caveat that I'm viewing this in a scenario where Sanji and Zoro have established that they love each other and are potentially in a relationship. If it's before that you could also flavour it with Sanji's "I love him but I think it's unrequited, actually I think he may hate me, so it would hurt him the least to be the one to kill me" which is JUICY, but just for this post I'm viewing it where they've already established that they're valuable to each other, that they care)

How am I supposed to look at that and not fucking die. It's so much more nuanced and romantic to me personally than "I would burn the world for you" because that trope at its core is a selfish sort of protection. I can 100% see how people find it romantic, don't get me wrong, I'm not judging you if you like that trope, that's so valid. It's "I can't live without you" and "I would choose you above all others" which is romantic, but it's romantic in a different way. Depending on the characters, it's also, I would go to extremes to make sure you're alive, even if there's nothing else left after the carnage except for each other, even if everything else that makes life worth living has been destroyed for survival, and we can only ever rely on each other for the rest of time. I only care about you but not anything else you care about. I won't try to save it, even if you tell me to, even if you want me to, and won't forgive me for all I've done because I can't bear the burden of you not being alive and around anymore.

I get why it's compelling, but that trope could ignore (depending on how it's written) everything else that person could hold dear. Ignores potentially, the agency of the person being protected, a character who could have accepted the consequences and have not wanted the world to burn for their sake, who is strong enough for that burden. And true, maybe the character isn't like that, maybe they just want simply to live a life (valid of them, people are allowed to want happy endings for themselves), but my point is, it's a different archetype of romance for a different archetype of character, but it seems to be more accepted as a romantic trope then zosan's dynamic and I think it shouldn't be that way.

Zosan is the opposite. It suits their character type perfectly. For them, it's "there are things that are worth more than even you and me. I love you, knowing who you are and how you view the world and what other things you value. I love you everyday on purpose, not hopelessly or illogically or blindly, even knowing you may not always choose me. I'm willing to accept the pain of that, just to be next to you. The time we share isn't any less valuable for being fleeting and impermanent. I care about the things you care about and our lives are also worth living because of those things. It would tear me apart irreversibly to hurt you, but I would do it if you asked it of me, I would do it if that's what this life demands of us. I know you can protect what we both love, even if I'm not beside you. I respect your choices. In this, we understand each other perfectly."

THAT is my shit. That's the fucking deranged ass bs that has me staring at my ceiling at 3 am, pacing the floors at 6 in the morning, gnawing on conkcrete like a rabid dog. Brain rot brain rot brain rot.

#EQUAL PARTNERS IN LITERALLY EVERY WAY I CANNOT WITH THESE TWO #one piece #zosan #sanzo #zoro x sanji #sanji x zoro #THEM #romance tropes #analysis #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #monkey d luffy #the strawhats

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gunwoos · 9 months

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woo-jin x reader x gun-woo poly headcanons

sorry this is kinda short! also i've never written anything poly before so it might not be the best. i procrastinated finishing this all week cause my brain ran out of ideas but anyways enjoy 🫶

ok hear me out

u either meet them and they're already in an established relationship OR u guys r all best friends and they both realize how much they like u and how much they like each other and eventually u guys all start dating

ur guys relationship is such a fun dynamic. like ur dating both of ur best friends it really can't get better than that

u have a spot permanently reserved in between the two of them

whether ur walking down the street, taking the bus, ur in the middle of them

they lowkey fight over u (playfully) (woojin starts it 100% of the time)

like woojin asks u to come watch him at practice but u and gunwoo have plans to go somewhere and woojin is just like ??? "ur hogging her!!!"

he then proceeds to go on this long rant abt how sad and lonely he's gonna be at practice all by himself while u two have fun without him (jokingly)

all jokes aside tho u guys have a really secure relationship and are able to do things in pairs rather than all 3 of u being together 24/7

like u and woojin, u and gunwoo, and gunwoo and woojin all have ur own things u like to do in pairs and it's nice for whoever doesn't go to have some alone time

they (try to) teach u how to box if ur interested

or if ur a boxer urself even better! all 3 of u can practice and compete in tournaments together (ur gonna be rich from all the prize money u guys win together)

practices with all 3 of u usually ends up with u guys just messing around but it's fun while it lasts

trying to go to sleep with these two is chaotic to say the least. u guys all eventually end up moving in together and apartments r expensive so u guys thought it would be a good idea to just have one bedroom with a singular king sized bed in it

news flash it's not big enough for u and ur two tall ass boyfriends

like u guys try cute cuddling positions to start off but it just ends with u guys laying on top of each other and it's a mess but u guys r comfy so

woojin likes to fall asleep with his head on your chest and geonwoo likes to have your head on his chest

u usually end up with your head on geonwoo's chest, cuddled into his side with woojin behind / kind of laying on top of u or hugging the both of u. whatever position u guys fall asleep in doesnt last tho and by the time u guys wake up it's just a tangle of limbs

HOLDING HANDS. whenever u guys go out together , and especially if wherever u are is crowded, all 3 of u are linking hands

they're both protective of u. they're overprotective when it comes to danger and stuff like that considering what they went through with kim myeon-gil , but they're not super overprotective if ur talking to other guys or smth

they also don't get jealous easily. there's so much trust in ur relationship and u guys communicate really well , so they really won't get jealous unless they actually have good reason to be

if someone is like over the top flirting with u and getting touchy tho, they're both by u in an instant scaring whoever's bothering u away

they know u can handle urself but will step in if they need to

like just imagine ur at a bar or smth, u leave the table to go get the three of u more drinks and some guy starts getting flirty with u while ur waiting. ur ignoring him but the guy wont take a hint, the next thing u know both of your boyfriends are on either side of u, one has an arm over ur shoulders and the other wraps one around ur waist

the guy looks terrified and is out of there in seconds

playfighting. it's mostly just u and woojin unless gunwoo is in playful mood

like u guys start bickering about something unserious and next thing u know u guys r on the floor wrestling (he barely uses any strength obviously) and gunwoos just rolling his eyes and watching

u guys honestly have such a great relationship. u got so lucky to have not one but two amazing boyfriends who love u more than anything

nsfw under ⬇️

again, they're both tall and strong as hell so expect to get manhandled a little bit (gently tho)

like holding down ur hips while going down on u, moving ur body into different positions

the sex is GOOD. like hands down it's amazing

another thing, even tho they're both boxers, you're much smaller than they are and they're so SO gentle with u

i honestly don't think either of them would like it rough they're just so sweet and don't wanna hurt u in any way

i also don't think they'd wanna like.. be in u at the same time unless ur into that, like if u suggest it and confirm that ur 100% ok with it they'll be hesitant at first but they're just like "ok! ^-^"

like i said in the sfw hcs, u have a spot permanently reserved in between the two of them and yes that includes in the bedroom

this can go so many ways too

gunwoo behind u, leaving kisses along ur jawline and neck as u lean back onto him while woojin goes down on u

eiffel tower. (i'll write a fic abt this i promise)

with the 3 of u, the possibilities are endless

they're both so giving and like pleasuring u better than receiving (not that they don't love when u pleasure them too)

they're both obsessed with eating u out

they're both athletes, they're competitive and wanna learn and become the best they possibly can at whatever they're doing , including pleasing u.

the first few times u guys do it they'll pay attention to every detail, what u like and don't like, what u really like, what things turn u on the most, etc

by the time u guys are a few months into the relationship they know just how to please u

like the sex was already good but it's just so much better once u guys learn more about each other in a sexual sense

it also doesn't have to be all 3 of u every single time, if one of u is tired or isn't in the mood but 2 of u are, u guys can go off and do ur own thing without the other feeling left out or jealous

u guys have such a trusting relationship including in the bedroom which makes the sex even better

like i said in their separate headcanons, woojin is prob a little bit freakier than gunwoo

like i know this man at least has a pair of handcuffs and i swear by this

woojin probably brings out a more adventurous side to gunwoo (and u if ur not usually adventurous) in the bedroom and it's so interesting to see

#bloodhounds #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds fanfic #bloodhounds kdrama #kim gunwoo #kim gunwoo x reader #kim gun woo x reader #kim gun woo #hong woojin #hong woo jin #hong woojin x reader #hong woo jin x reader #headcanons #gunwoo x reader x woojin

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buckyalpine · 2 years

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I need some protective cuddle Bucky with his pregnant pillow 🥺

How would he be when you first start getting Braxton hicks?

18+

Love this. Yes.

Bucky x pregnant reader

"Baby? What happened?"

You whimpered in pain, dropping the spoon you were holding, grabbing the side of belly unable to respond. Bucky rushed to your side where you stood in the kitchen making some tea.

"Y/n? What's wrong, is it the baby?"

"Contractions" You manage to hiss out, gripping onto the counter waiting for the pain to pass. Bucky's eyes grew wide in fear, there were still a few weeks till your due date, so why were you contracting already. You sighed in relief as the pain dissipated, quickly noticing your super soldiers distress.

"I'm okay bubba, they're just Braxton hicks contractions, they come and go"

His hands immediately went to your growing bump, rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. He looked terrified, his heart beating out of his chest, he didn't like it. He didn't like seeing you in pain and the thought of something happening to you or his little baby made him feel sick.

"Does it still hurt?" He whispered, moving behind you so he could cradle you close to him while keeping his hands on your tummy. You shook your head, lacing your fingers on top of his to move his hands to where the baby fluttered.

"It's okay now, see? Even peanut is saying I'm okay daddy" You smiled, pressing his hand firmly against your skin. Bucky kissed your temple but his heart hadn't stopped. He loved you for carrying his baby, but it also scared him. His baby had part of the serum. You were experiencing pregnancy symptoms 10 times worse than a regular one.

"How can I help?" His eyes are pleading with you, he just wants to do something, anything he can to make your pregnancy easier. He always takes you on walks, his arm wrapped snuggly around you, always asking if you feel too warm or cold. He's more than happy to be your human pillow, he definitely flipped off the body pillow you got. Don't ask where it went, Bucky has no idea how it ended up in the compound dumpster, torn in half.

He takes it upon himself to pamper you as often as he can. Which is exactly what he's going to go now. He quickly lifted you in his arms so he could run you a warm shower because this won't do, he won't just like you walk around in pain without taking care of your afterwards.

"Bucky, where are we going?" You giggle, while he held you close to him, making his way to your shared bedroom.

"To run you a bath and help you feel better" He says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. He fills the tub with warm water, checking the temperature to make sure it's not too hot (while you pout because you love to be boiled). Bucky notices your less than pleased face, chuckling because he knows you love your water hot. He helps you undress and is about to help you into the tub but you stop and look at him.

"What is it mama?"

"You join too" You shrug, and Bucky sucks in a breath because you pregnant and bare is the most perfect thing he's ever seen. He strips his clothes off, helping you sit against him, his arms snaking around to cradle your body. He's rubbing your tummy and shoulders, while you relax against him, his hands ghosting over your tender breasts. He cups and massages them before moving to your tummy again while kissing your temple.

"Does anything hurt?"

You shake your head, your eyes closed, relishing in his firm touch, no one else would ever show you this much love and care the way he did. He helped you out of the tub, wrapping you in a fluffy towel before laying you down on the bed. You giggled watching Bucky shuffle around the room grabbing your lotions; he focuses on your lower tummy, softly massaging the skin as gently as he could.

"How do you feel, are you in pain baby and baby?" He kisses your forehead before coming down to kiss your baby bump, resting his head on you.

"Bucky, what are you going to do when I get real contractions?" Bucky looked at you with wide eyes, he didn't even want to think about how he'd deal with you going through so much pain.

"I-

He genuinely doesn't know how to answer, he'd survived Hydra and this sounded worse. You bring him up to kiss him while he looks at you with puppy eyes, he's already reeling for when you get real contractions.

"Will you let me hold your hand?"

Bucky frantically nods, why would he ever say no to that?!

"And you'll be with me the whole time"

"Angel, I'd never leave your side"

"What if I yell at you?"

"Yell at me all you want baby"

"What if I get mad at you"

"It's okay, I'll still be with you"

"....What if I call you a big dick bitch?"

"....you like this bitches big dick"

"Bucky!"

"M'your Bucky"

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1@littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth@matchat3a@cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions@high-functioning-lokipath@morganemorganite-blog@peaches1958@kingfleury@spiderman-stilinski@peaceinourtime82@gublur@wintersmelodie@geeky-politics-46@lolawassad@almosttoopizza@a-poor-gryffindork@alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut@kamaria-sweet-writes@charmedbysarge @samfreakingwinchester @xnorthstar3x@kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @batprincess1013

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daisyblog · 3 months

Text

Comfort Zone

My Drummer Masterlist Summary: YN opens Wembley Night 1.

Based on this request.

"Have fun out there, baby!". Harry smiles as he watches YN fiddle with her in ears.

Harry had given each member of the Love Band a chance to open one of his Wembley shows. YN was opening tonight's show, the first one at Wembley. They're both standing backstage, minutes before YN is due to walk out on stage.

Taking a deep breath, to calm her never ending nerves, YN shyly smiles up at Harry's taller frame. "Thank you, gorgeous! Are you going to be watching?".

"Of course I'm going to be watching my girl!". He leaves YN to go with a bunch of kisses and 'I love you's'. Harry makes his way through the hallways of the stadium to an area where he could watch YN perform. Jeff, Brad and other members of the band joining him.

Mitch and Sarah follow YN out to the large stage as YN's introduction video plays, Mitch heading towards his guitar and Sarah finding her new position in YN's regular place.

"Hello Wembley!". She greets the large crowd who roars with cheers, as YN stands at the front of the stage. "I'm YN and I'm so happy to be able to perform for you this evening.".

There's loud screams and fans jumping and running around in the pit area, and from her place on the stage she can see that Harry is stood behind one of the barriers.

"Before we start tonight, I'd like to explain something.". YN's grip on the microphone loosens slightly as she becomes less nervous. "I'm usually sat back there, behind the drums.". The crowd roared once again. "But Harry said I need to get out of my comfort zone...try something new.". YN let out a little giggle, when she heard a loud whistle that she knew came from her boyfriends lips. "So that mean't no drum playing.". A loud boo came from a few fans at the front barricade, making YN laugh. "But can we give a big cheer for Sarah who I've been teaching how to play just so she could play for me this evening!".

---

"Uh…the first song I’m gonna sing is called ‘Never Loved Anyone Before’” There was a mixture of awe’s and cheers from the fans. “It’s a bit raw…but it’s about loving someone special, who’s supported you through your hardest times.”.

Sometimes I think I was born on the day that I met you Spent all of my days, all my nights praying you never let me go I hate to admit that I still got some shit from my fucked up past But you've managed to break down my walls

You love me so much, it gave me enough Enough to finally have the guts to love myself Thought that I'd been deep, yeah, I could've sworn But everything you are to me is so much more You made me realise that I've never loved anyone before You made me realise that I've never loved anyone before

The only complaint that I got is that I'm fucking scared now The fact that with you, I have so much to lose, got me terrified And if the world ends, and it pulls us apart then you know I promise To find you wherever you are

Harry watched and listened at the words. It was the first time hearing YN sing the song she had secretly written. It caused a lump in his throat as the lyrics pulled on his heart strings. YN was known to hide behind her feelings but tonight she had allowed a whole stadium know how she felt. A smile appeared on Harry’s face, the proudness he felt shining through.

---

“Okay…Wembley! The next one I’m gonna sing is ‘This Is The Life’ by Amy Macdonald…I’ve seen a lot of you use this one on TikTok for some of the shows and I want you all to sing and dance!”.

Oh, the wind whistles down The cold dark street tonight And the people, they were dancing To the music vibe

And the boys chase the girls with curls in their hair While the shy tormented youth sit way over there And the songs get louder each one better than before

And you're singing the songs thinking this is the life And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size Where you gonna go, where you gonna go, where you gonna sleep tonight? And you're singing the songs thinking this is the life And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size Where you gonna go, where you gonna go, where you gonna sleep tonight? Where you gonna sleep tonight?

So you're heading down the road in your taxi for four And you're waiting outside Jimmy's front door But nobody's in and nobody's home 'til 4 So you're sitting there with nothing to do Talking about Robert Riger and his motley crew And where you gonna go, where you gonna sleep tonight?

Harry was in awe at how effortlessly his girl sang and how her confidence was growing each minute. He watched at how the fans were all in their own bubbles singing and dancing along. He was even more surprised to see YN take the mic and join the fans with some dance moves. He let out a big cheer and joined in, dancing along with Jeff and Brad.

---

“I want to thank you all for joining me tonight.”. YN began to speak into the mic. “I have enjoyed every moment and I’d like to sing one last song for you…this one’s a special song to me for so many different reasons…one being if I hadn’t have posted me singing this one…I’m not sure I would be standing right here now…please sing along, here’s The Chain!”.

Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies

And if you don't love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you saying You would never break the chain

YN couldn’t help but smile to herself as she heard the crowd sing the famous Fleetwood Mac lyrics back to her.

And if you don't love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you saying You would never break the chain

“Thank you Wembley! See you later!”. YN thanked the crowd before running off the stage into Harry’s arms.

“I’m so proud of you!” Harry held her close to him, placing his lips on hers in a quick kiss.

“Thank you for believing in me!” YN gave him a big grin, still feeling the buzz from performing.

“Always!”. He promised.

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nicherayyy · 1 year

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ok. i have the most amazing idea. child reader, but they're from south park and hung around stan's group all the time before moving. (the list of crimes is astronomical, just like cartman and them). basically la squadra and south park! child! reader. bonus points if they have immortality like kenny

Anon you are genius!! And South Park is literally one of my fav shows

TW: cursing, mention of really disturbing crimes and cannibalism (not from reader's side ofc) but it's South Park so there's nothing to be shocked with

La Squadra x Child! South Park! Reader

No one in La Squadra has any idea how they ended up in this situation.. with you.. the most feral 8 year old they ever saw.

Risotto def didn't expect this, I mean, you're just a child, what can go wrong?

Everything.

Everything goes wrong.

At first he didn't even want to tell you about the whole assassin thing. Cuz you know, you're a literal child. You actually found out by accident, finding some random documents on Risotto's desk.

And the last thing Ris wanted was to scare you. He was about to explain himself and that whatever they do, they have no intentions to hurt you while you just listened, like.. it didn't even bothered you?

The only thing you said was:

"Dude I don't really care what you do for a living"

The poor man was too stunned to speak.

Prosciutto HATES your cursing habit. Sometimes he thinks you're an old sailor that saw some things, not a child. You've got a bigger vocabulary than the whole La Squadra combined, I'm not even joking.

He tried to make you stop cursing, he really did.

Pros, in fact, didn't succeed.

"Oh fuck"

"Language"

"Shut up old fart"

"What did you just say??"

Yeah, he can't do this anymore.

Poor Pesci is terrified. How can a child be like.. this??! Children must be naive and innocent, but you?? Ohhh you're the other case.

You actually find it funny that Pesci is so scared of your stories about your old times in South Park. Pls stop traumatising him.

And you're just telling this at random times, which scares him even more.

"Oh, that's a nice chili, I remember my friend ate something like that once"

"Oh.. was it with beef too?"

"No, it was with his enemy's parents"

"WHAT"

Can I just say no one ate chili that day?

Illuso thinks it's amusing, really.

"I'll pay 200 lira if you go and say all curse words you know to Formaggio right now"

"400 lira and we have a deal"

But I won't lie, your stories are scaring him sometimes.

"You know I died once"

"Eh??"

Sometimes he thinks you saw more than him.

Formaggio really likes your stories. But one small issue, he thinks that most of your stories are a joke. Because how can an 8 year old saw so many disturbing things? Of course, it must be just your imagination.

Oh how wrong he was.

"I once was arrested for starting a Peruvian flute band with my friends"

"Haha, yeah, nice"

"And the government sent us to Peru"

"Of course, I believe you"

Actually, Melone is more interested in all your "I died once" thing. Like how?? You just rise from the dead?

"Dude, chill, my friend literally does the same"

So there's another immortal child?? What are you two, Jesus??

"I don't know it's because of some shitty cult I guess?"

"What cult??"

But anyway, he's interested in you in scientific way and doesn't care much about your little crime stories.

Ohhh, Ghiaccio and you are buffing every day. Morning, day, and night.

You just take any opportunity to piss him off. One day for example you pronounced your words wrong (he still remembers that).

Or you can start an argument with him about anything. No matter how small it is. The whole team now tries to distract you so they won't hear Ghiaccio's screams.

"Would you ever stop being so annoying?"

"I don't know, would you ever stop being such a bitch?"

And there it goes.

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dancingdonatello · 5 months

Note

HI ITS 🦆 ANON THE ONE WHO MADE AN AO3 CUZ OF YOU! AND YES I DID MEAN REQS I JUST CANT TYPE FOR SHIT 💀

I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO LIKE VILLIAN!TURTLES HEADCANONS?

LIKE DONNIE AND MIKEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN RAISED BY DRAXUM, AND DRAXUM NUTURED DONNIES LOVE FOR SCIENCE OR SMTH AND MIKEY MYSTIC POWERS WERE TRAINED BY DRAXUM TOO

AND MAYBE LEO WAS RAISED BY BIG MAMA

IDK ABOUT RAPH BUT YEAH!

BASICALLY THEY'RE RAISED TO HATE HUMANS, BUT THEN AFTER MEETING/ENCOUNTERING Y/N THEIR PERSPECTVIE CHANGES (ATLEAST ON THE READER)

MAYBE LIKE WRITE ABOUT THEIR VEIW ON THE READER, AND MAYBE THEY INVITE THE READER OVER TO THEIR HOME, OR MAYBE EVEN TELLING THEIR VILLAIN PAERNTS THEY LIKE A HUMAN, OR ALL 3!!!-

IM SORRY I JUST GET SO HYPED SEEING YOUR WORK AND I HAVENT REQUESTED ANYTHING IN A WHILE AND I JUST SAW ONE OF YOUR POSTS AND STIMMING AND KICKING MY FEET AND OVERALL JUST AKSJDHKJFHFKJH

ANYWAY THX FOR TAKING TIME TO READ THIS AND TYPE IT IF YOU DO! FEEL FREE TO PUT THIS ON PAUSE OR JUST DELETE IT

MAKE SURE TO DRINKS LOTS OF WATER, AND EAT! AND CHECK WHAT TIME IT IS, DONT WANNA FUCK UP UR SLEEP SCHEDULE ANYMORE THAN IT IS LMAO!!!

AND STRETCH YOUR WRISTS BESTIE

🦆 anon @duckanon

<3 <3 luv u duck anon.

villain rise turtles x reader

You have something that Raph needs. He’s been tracking you for months and he knows that you have a piece of the armor he needs for the resurrection of the Shredder.

And he’s never been one for plans, so…

He breaks in through your window.

You scream and then he screams and you’re holding on with an impressive grip on the armor piece and….

And you’re…. you’re so… cute. He suddenly lets go of the glove and you go flying back, knocking your head against the wall. He lets out an eep and rushes over, cradling your head.

You look pretty freaked out at his change of heart and he doesn’t blame you.

How he’s going to explain this to the Foot Lieutenant and the Foot Brute, he has no idea.

They take your introduction pretty well. So do you, by how you actually willingly hand over the glove.

But… your reaction when you find out about the Shredder at the baseball game destroys any loyalty he has left for the Foot Clan. He can’t bear to see that terrified expression on your face when you look at him.

Leo may have snuck up to the part of the hotel Big Mama told him to stay away from. But how could she blame him? People watching was his favorite past time! Who better to watch than some stupid humans?

And when his eyes landed on you, he just knew he had to have you. He wouldn’t regret it even when Big Mama punished him. If he hadn’t have snuck up to the floors above ground, he wouldn’t never seen you.

And anyways, his was birthday was coming up… and Big Mama said he could have anything he wanted. He grinned to himself, deciding to sneak into your room that night to ‘introduce’ himself. He’d leave a sticky note and scare you. Just a little.

Big Mama adored you. She gave you all these clothes so that you could look as perfect as her and Leo. She used for entertainment for the other Yokai, even when Leo glared on with jealously.

Soon enough, she was going to get her hands on some mysterious green ooze from three other turtles that looked suspiciously like Leo. As long as Leo didn’t find out about it, you would be the perfect test subject. And wouldn’t it be so sweet to see a lover’s quarrel in the Battle Nexus? She giggles at the thought.

Donatello has been bugged by you for a while.

In one of his rare outings to New York, obviously not letting Draxum know, he had run into you. He had been trying to break into a tech store and then you had appeared behind him.

He broke your nose but he hadn’t been left i scratched.

Then he just kept running into you again and again. He was half inclined just to kill you, but he feels like it would annoy him more with how much effort that would be towards someone like you.

You were annoying and just as mean as he was to you. It irritated him whenever you came back with a comment just as sharp as what he gave you.

One day, in one of his complaining rants to Mikey, Draxum overheard. Even though Donnie denied that it, Draxum was convinced he had a crush on a pathetic human. So, he decided he would kill you. As if you were nothing. Just scum on the Earth. All so Donnie wouldn’t be ‘distracted’ any longer. By that he meant he just wanted Donnie to work insane hours so Draxum wouldn’t have to work as hard.

And Donnie… couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let a single hair on you be injured.

There’s an angry turtle staring you down. Michelangelo and you had run into each other. One looking beat up and the other looking flabbergasted.

“You’re a… turtle?!”

Suddenly, you’re wrapped up in chains. That burnt badly.

“Ow!” you shriek and suddenly, just as quickly as they had come, they vanished. Big brown guilty eyes stare at you.

His face twitches before it turns disgusted. “Ugh. You smell disgusting.”

He was talking about the smell of your brunt skin. You glared at him angrily before seeing how bashed up he was. “What… happened to you?”

He was very reluctant to follow you home. And he kept asking you weird questions about other green turtles. Had you ever seen anyone that looked like him? Where? When? All these questions while you tried to stick a bandaid on him.

He also didn’t hold back on his mean comments about the human race. But as long as he sat still as you tried to rub the ash and debris off of him, you just let him talk.

Quickly, he warms up to you. It’s as if he never hated humans. He enjoys learning about everything you do and seeing all of what New York has to offer. He knows you can never meet Draxum. And even though he’s getting suspicious the more he leaves and the longer he’s out, Mikey continues to see you.

#rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #rise leonardo x reader #leonardo x reader #rise tmnt x reader #rise donatello x reader #rise donnie x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt michelangelo x reader #michelangelo x reader

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variety-fangirl · 1 year

Text

3 Days Away / Jake Lockley x fem!reader

Summary: you and Jake end up arguing about his safety, especially when he comes home worse than ever. After days of silent treatment from him and him refusing to let the others front, you decide a few days away for him to calm down is best.

Warnings: angst, Jake not knowing how to express his feelings until the end, reader feeling hurt and upset, fluff ending.

Authors note: I have a few Moon Knight fics in mind to write, so I hope you guys enjoy them but feel free to send me requests also. Angsty!Jake to soft!Jake, super soft emotional Jake (I know he isn't typically like this but I just loved the idea) This is majorly a Jake fic with bits of Marc and Steven. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really help me out. Thank you my loves! :)

Word count: 2.5k

You hated arguments more than anything, especially with those that you loved and cared about. You hadn't even intended for this to cause a fight, you simply just wanted him to know how scared you were for their safety. It's not like what they did was a typical everyday job where they wouldn't be harmed by dangerous people or killed. Seeing Jake come home with blood covering him, bruises all over his torso and back, and cuts on his face was enough to scare you. You were terrified of losing them, the three most important people in your life that couldn't live without.

And so a few days later you set to have a conversation about it with whoever was fronting at the time, which happened to be Jake. You stayed calm and tried to say your piece without tears, but it had proved futile. Jake had taken your concern as an attack, thinking he couldn't handle himself. The yelling, on his part, had started and your tears had a mind of their own, flowing freely. You silently cried as Jake stood in front of you with a booming voice and red face, you just allowed him to get his anger out, knowing there was no reasoning with him at that moment.

"I'm going to take a walk and let you cool off, okay?" you managed to get out through tears when he stopped, wiping your face as best you could as you stood. You hoped some time to himself would allow him to calm down enough to talk to you calmly when you returned. His silence was enough of an answer to let you know you needed to leave for a bit. His back was to you as you stepped toward him, breathing heavily. Placing your hands gently on his back as you lay a kiss on the clothed area, a small sob choking out in the process. "I love you," you whisper as you reluctantly let him go and walk towards the door, grabbing your jacket in the process.

You look back at him for a moment, not fully wanting to leave so you could sort this out, but you knew he needed space. You watch as Jake leans over and holds onto the wall as he breathes heavily, looking at his reflection in the mirror. They're talking, so you took that as your cue to leave, closing the door behind yourself.

It luckily wasn't too cold out, the breeze only just slightly nipping at your skin. You sighed when the tears refused to stop, a headache already starting to form because of it. Your chest felt heavy with an ache, sadness overwhelming your senses. Your legs absentmindedly took you where they pleased as your brain ran a million miles an hour, worried and hurt-filled thoughts filling it. You knew Jake was hard to reason with when he was angry or upset, but you weren't expecting him to be that angry with you for being worried about his and the boy's safety. You loved them and didn't want to lose them, you wouldn't know what to do if you did. You didn't even want to think about it.

An hour later, you ended up at a small food stall that sold hot food and beverages. You had been planning to cook for you both before the argument broke out, that plan is out the window now. You grabbed yourself something to eat and drink, luckily having found some money in your jean pocket. You found a small park nearby that was mostly empty, it seemed peaceful and a good place to be for a while to clear your head and give Jake the time to calm down. Walking through the trees and pathway led you to a small lonely wooden bench, and you took a thankful seat on it. Your feet ached from walking a long period of time without stopping, the pressure relieving the second you took a seat.

You stared forward at passing byers, eating and drinking without thought. The jacket hugged your body and neck as you wrapped it around yourself tighter, not particularly cold, just needing extra comfort. The added warmth from your hot beverage helped make you feel slightly better, helping to relieve the coldness of your hands and the dull ache in your head. You weren't sure how long had passed with you sitting on that little bench, it was a while but you weren't sure of the exact amount. Having accidentally left your phone at the flat in the rush to leave without thought of necessities, like your phone and purse.

By the time you had started to make your way back, it was beginning to get dark. The walk took a while, but luckily you memorised the way home. When you reached home, you realised that you'd left your keys there. Having to begrudgingly knock and disturb him, the slow shuffling of feet letting you know he didn't want to move. It took Jake a while to answer the door, his red unimpressed eyes staring at you without a word. Still angry it seemed. He simply walked back towards the couch, leaving the door open for you to enter.

You sigh, closing the door and locking it, as he gets back on the couch and wraps his blanket around him. Realising he wasn't intending to come to bed with you, you walk toward him. "I love you and I'm sorry. We'll talk tomorrow," you whisper shakily, tears forming once again. Bending down over the back of the couch, you stroke the mop of black curly hair and place a gentle kiss on the back of his head. You linger for a few seconds, tears falling down your cheeks. Begrudgingly, you walk away from him to your shared bed. You change into one of Steven's shirts and get into the cold bed alone, silent tears falling. You fall asleep with an aching heart.

Two days of silent treatment had been driving you insane, you had expected to talk about it by now but Jake wasn't budging. He wasn't letting the others front either, which made the situation worse. You were sure something else was going on that had contributed to his mood, and you were trying to be patient but it was driving you up the wall not being able to speak. So, in the middle of the night, you decided to go stay with your friend, having checked with them beforehand for the ok. You packed a small bag with your necessities and leave a note for the boys to read when one of them wakes.

'Don't freak. Went to a friend's house for a few days or so to let Jake cool off until he's ready to speak. Can't cope with the silent treatment, I'm sorry.'

You loved them all more than anything, even their flaws but that didn't mean that you could always handle it all the time. Sometimes you needed a small break when one of them was in a mood, to give yourself some time to de-stress. As you walked through the door of your friend's apartment, you set your bag down and turned to face her, she was patiently waiting for an answer to her question. As soon as you saw the look of concern and love on her face, your bottom lip began to tremble and tears clouded your vision. "Oh honey, come here." She gently replied with open arms, her heart breaking to see you like this.

It had been late by the time you'd arrived at your friend's home, around midnight, you knew she'd be exhausted from a long day at work and yet, she refused to go to bed until you were laughing and smiling. Which she exceeded, as she always does. She grabbed a shit ton of ice cream, two bottles of both your favourite wine and fluffy blankets, while you explained to her what had happened (not completely delving into the full truth about your boyfriends and their line of work). She listened intently while you cried and explained what had led you to leave in the middle of the night and go to hers, and she was ever as understanding about it all. At that moment, you were so grateful to have a friend that truly cared about you and your happiness, not wanting to just leave you there crying while she went to bed.

That had been two days ago, and your phone had been blowing up non-stop since. Your friend insisted that it seemed he was ready to talk and going home was probably the best idea, and so you agreed. You didn't really know what to expect when you arrived home, unsure of who would be fronting and how they would react to the whole situation. Would Marc or Steven be angry with you also? You hoped not, you could barely cope with one angry boyfriend, but three? it would just completely swallow you whole. Packing up the little belongings you'd brought with you and making your way back without a word to the boys. You flicked through the messages on the way, the majority were from Marc and Steven, but a few from Jake stuck out. You had expected the other to reach out but not Jake, deeming him to still be angry for a couple of days more.

'Please come home.'

'I'm sorry..'

'Please..'

Your heart clenched and you felt the tears prick at your vision once more, you were fed up with crying. Jake never begged, said please or apologised, so for him, this was rare and he must truly mean it. Those words didn't come from him lightly, and you were thankful. It meant he would be in a much better mood than a few days prior, you didn't know if you could cope with a replay of how you ended up here. The silent treatment was worse than anything, it killed you to see him walk straight past you with a dead expression and not a single word uttered. That was a part of Jake you weren't the fondest of, the fact that he could hide his emotions so well and appear that the situation wasn't bothering him.

What you didn't know was that Jake (Marc and Steven also) had been freaking out the whole duration since you left, not knowing what to do. Marc and Steven had been trying to get through to him, pushing for him to call you and apologise, beg for you to return if he had to, but to get you to come back to them. To him. Jake knew he was terrible at expressing his emotions and they often came out.. wrong, often acting angry or upset when he actually wasn't. He wasn't used to someone caring about his well-being or loving him as deeply as you did, his actions tending to be harsh and not coming across in the way he wanted them to. And yet, you still chose to stay with him and love him unconditionally, accepting every part of him, good and bad.

Jake had been pacing bak and forth for what felt like hours, panicking at your lack of response, worrying implicitly that he'd done it this time and scared you off. Marc began yelling at Jake through the reflection, blaming him for potentially losing you. He didn't know if he could handle losing another important person in his life, 'I swear to god Jake if you've chased away our girl, I'll never speak to you again.' Marc spat menacingly as he pointed at Jake, turning away to calm himself. Steven just looked lost, not quite knowing what to do with himself at the thought of you leaving them. 'Please mate, call her, text her, I don't care what you have to do, just get her back here!'

You were their light, life, and love. Their everything and more, what would they do without you? How would they cope without you? Everything in their life reminded them of you, you did everything together. The route Steven took to work every day as he passed your favourite tea shops, the little corner shop that Marc passes on the way home that you had introduced him to, the little bakery that not many people knew about that made mouth-watering pastry that had converted Jake. Everything was a perfect reminder of you. Even the simple things like letting someone in, trusting someone to know about all of them and their secret, the way you could perfectly tell them all apart from the other. Everything you did was done with love and care. They couldn't bare losing that.

So, when you walked through the door timidly, looking around to see where your boyfriends were, you weren't expecting what happened. Jake stared in shock at you, not fully expecting you to even return home. He breathed deeply, emotions overwhelming him as he'd never felt before, pushing him over the edge. Jake walked quickly toward you and cupped your face in his trembling hands, his eyes filled with tears. You were sure it was Steven or maybe Marc, you definitely didn't expect Jake to currently be fronting with the amount of vulnerable emotions that were showing right now. 'Oh thank god.' Marc whispered, a shaky breath leaving him. Steven stared with wide eyes, silent tears leaving him. If only you could see how grateful they were to see you.

"Mi vida." you stare at him in shock, realising it is Jake when you hear the nickname. You were surprised, he was never this emotional or vulnerable with you. He was usually hard to read and kept his emotions hidden, so seeing him visibly upset made you want to cry with happiness and heartache. Jake pulls your body into him, his trembling lips placing a gentle kiss on your head as he holds you as close as possible. You sigh as tears begin to form, stuffing your face into his warm chest and wrapping your arms as tightly around his waist as possible. You were so thankful that he wasn't angry with you anymore, seeming happy to see you back home. You knew they probably worried when you didn't reply but you wanted to come over as soon as you could.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't angry with you, I'm just not used to someone caring about mine and the boy's safety. Other than us. I didn't know how to handle it and reacted how I usually would, it won't happen again. Just don't leave again, please." Jake whispered into your hair, tears flowing freely. He was so afraid that he'd lost you, he could care less about how he looked right now, he was just thankful you were home. Your cheeks were now soaked, the feeling of relief and love overwhelming you as you both held each other tightly, you made a mental note to spend time with Marc and Steven shortly, also.

"I'm not going anywhere, can't get rid of me that easily. Those three days were difficult with you three." you giggled, looking over to the reflection of the fish tank next to you both, hoping your boys were watching and listening. Luckily, they were with smiles and tears in their eyes. You loved them all more than anything and one argument wasn't going to scare you away.

#moon knight #fluff #y/n #angst #moon knight x reader #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #female reader

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