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purestxblood · 1 year

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𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐳𝐨.

Your traditional holiday ordeals had seemed pointless to Cleo, however, that didn’t stop you from wanting to share holiday warmth and love with her. Nor did it stop her from welcoming you with open arms and a small present of her own— the perfect Christmas and worst in tow. 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, ♥

𝘾𝙡𝙚𝙤 𝘾𝙖𝙯𝙤 𝙭 𝙛!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 .

Major fluff ☁. Christmas Celebrations. Cute furry friends.

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦— Mentions of depression.

With your knitted sock clad feet draped over the arm over the recliner and a mug in your hand, you intently watched with eyes of muse, drifting over your girlfriend's backside. There was a soft closed mouth smile toying upon the bottom half of your face while your lips lightly pressed against the cup, blocking your silent giggles.

It was the seventh of December, the first night of officially hopping – more like dragging Cleo into the notion of Christmas joys under twinkling lights and inhalations of pine tree bliss. From the start, she hadn’t understood your dire need to bask in the aura of holiday nostalgia. Holiday’s had been different in the Cazo household. For your girlfriend, holidays were like any normal day. She never had a roof over her head, warm lit fires and holiday films, nor did she have Christmas trees, lights, and gifts under the tree.

While the child version of yourself had been snuggled in bed with sugar plums dancing upon your dreaming head, younger Cleo had been plucking plums off stands alongside her father and his rat friends. Your traditional ordeals had seemed pointless to Cleo, however, that didn’t stop you from wanting to share holiday warmth and love with her. Christmas was your favorite and you wanted to give your girlfriend a new memory, an experience she had yet to endure as a child and adult.

This had been Cleo’s first official Christmas in a place she could call home, your home.

She was open to the idea of home for the holidays, adorning the blush upon your cheeks and squeal of excitement; however, there was only so much she could endure. Cleo was truly against you spending more money upon presents… finances were the height of your worries and gifts were the last she wanted either of you to worry about. Plus, Santa wasn’t coming on Christmas night because why would he? The only present Cleo could ask for was your companionship and heart – both which she already had.

Binge watching Christmas movies had also been a drag – to her more than you. Though the cheesy holiday films you watched with your parents were your favorite pastimes, Cleo could never keep an eye open for merely five minutes. She had slept through all of them, occasionally muttering a word or two in an attempt to show her captivation.

You didn’t mind her lack of enthusiasm and interest as you were more endearing upon the way Cleo clung to you in comfort: how she perfectly snuggled up to your frame, with an arm draped across your waist and a leg over yours. Her face using your stomach as a pillow, nuzzling it every so often when her subconscious would realize her grip upon your body had loosened, making her tighten her hold once more.

It was a realization, a memory, upon why you realized your parents loved cuddling by the fire when watching Christmas movies. It wasn’t the movie per se…it was the proximity of warmth transferring skin upon skin and the synchronizations of heartbeats into one.

There was one tradition Cleo idolized the most – Christmas trees.

Upon this night, Cleo had taken the reins upon decorating the Christmas tree. You had thought picking a tree was the highlight of your night, mesmerized by the way Cleo and Sebastian giddied their way between the forest of trees. You watched her observe from bark to treetop, grazing her fingers among the bristles to feel the texture and temperature of the fresh pine. Even Sebastian had been a sight for eyes, squealing in excitement as he raced between branches until the pair were set upon a tree.

While Cleo had been an absolute pro at picking a tree to take home, she was absolutely clueless upon how to decorate a tree. Her frenzy to decorate the tree straight away diverted her to her younger stubborn and eager self. Cleo was headstrong and wanted to decorate it herself with the forgetfulness as to how.

Rather than stringing the lights around the tree itself, her body had been the replacement, strands of crystalized white bulbs etching her figure. “Meu amor,” she hummed, “I don’t think this is a laughing matter.”

There was a hint of amusement to her words and you place your cup atop of the table. “Whatever do you mean?” you arched a brow and stood from the chair, slowly creeping behind her. “The eyes in the back of my head are my biggest weapon,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder while lifting the lights in the air.

Upon cue, two tiny eyes appeared behind the locks of her hair and you scrunched your face, playfully pointing a finger, “you traitor.” Sebastian squeaked, his two pays cupping the tip of your index finger before scurrying down Cleo’s arm and jumping to the tree.

“I think Sebastian has the idea on what to do,” you teased, pressing a kiss to the side of her head before taking the end of the lights and giving it a tug. Cleo frowned as the lights tightened around her frame, following the taunt hold as you pulled her towards you, “may we do this together?”

“Meu amor?”

Soft hands brushed the locks away from your face, exposing your closed eyes. You moaned softly in question, your eyes never lifting as you held onto sleep. The hand resting underneath your pillow slid out, wrapping around Cleo’s wrist. You brought her hand towards your chest, intertwining your fingers in the process as you snuggled deeper into the warmth of your bed.

“Wake up,” she whispered, lightly pressing her lips against your cheek. Her kisses mapped along the side of your face until they met your lips in union. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dull morning light and the gleam upon Cleo’s exterior.

You rolled onto your back, maintaining your hold upon her hand while the other lifted and cupped her cheek. “You’re lucky I love you,” you mumbled with a yawn while casually glancing at the clock. It was nearly five in the morning and surprise grazed your expression. Neither you or Cleo were morning birds and it was a vast surprise that she was the one waking you before sunrise.

“I have something for you,” she said, tearing your hands apart and crawling across the bed. You sat up, watching her with curiosity as she reached for a box. Sebastian danced, jumping back and forth over her limbs as she held the box in her hand, squealing while he tried to catch a glance into the box.

Cleo’s green eyes were round and wide, gleam meeting the teeth that shined as she smiled, handing over the box. You stared at the brown cardboard box in your lap with red and green marker stamped atop ‘Merry Christmas’ with a hand drawn Christmas tree. Your cheeks warmed as a giddy girlish smile plastered your face, your insides feeling jittery of excitement laced with pure happiness. Cleo’s own aura had matched yours. It had been rare for you to see her filled with so much glee, sitting upon her knees like a child, awaiting your response.

“What happened to no gifts this year?” you quirked and brought the box up to your ear, shaking it slightly. Ruffled noises could be heard from the inside of the box and you brought it back down to your lap, your eyes wide in concern. “I got you something money can’t buy,” Cleo smiled with hope, “in case I’m not always here.”

Your lips twitched slightly, frowning at her words – in case I’m not always here. For days she had casually been running an idea through your head. You were completely against her bank demise and you had hoped she would take your concern into consideration. Part of you wanted to question if this gift had been her reason but you chose not to dwindle the moment or dwell upon the unknown midst to come; simply focusing upon the gift in your lap. The moment you opened the box, your lips parted in a gasp while your focus glanced between the inside and Cleo’s delighted gaze.

Two small eyes peered up at you behind white cotton fur and you cooed, opening your palms for four tiny feet to jump in your grasp. You brought the mouse to your face, allowing his whiskers to graze your skin. Giggles filled the morning air from the tickles upon your nose and you glanced at your girlfriend, “he’s perfect.”

Sebastian climbed atop of your limbs, his front paws hoisting himself up along your chest. “Though I think Sebastian may be fighting over him,” you giggled, bringing the mouse down to the mattress and allowing him to hop out of your embrace and run around Sebastian. Grabbing Cleo’s hands in yours, you brought her palm to your mouth, kissing the top of her hand, “thank you my love.”

Rain tattered among the window seal, drops cascading down the glass in synchronized rhythm to the sound of thunder rattling. Your eyes were fixated upon the window. There wasn’t much to look at, it had been dark hours into the early morning and you couldn’t remember the last time you got out of bed – let alone stepped foot out of your house. Days turned into weeks, and Christmas was ‘round the corner, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to lull yourself into the spirit of holidays you loved so much.

It wasn’t the same since Cleo had disappeared.

You begged and begged for her not to rob the bank but her pride and determination to do better to rescue you both from your shitty apartment were brighter sights. The stubbornness in her willed the purity in her heart but the outcome had been dim sending her straight to Belle Reve. She had been under maximum security and you hadn’t been able to see her since the night she gave you your four legged best friend now named Dimitri.

He had been an I love you and goodbye all in one.

In case I’m not always here.

Those six letter words burned your insides to the bone. Oh how you wished her declaration was only a what if situation and not a hint as to what would come.

Your eyes brimmed from the windowpane to your four legged friend as his whiskers kissed the tip of your nose. A breathy short forceful laugh blew your nose and you reached your hand out from under the pillow. Running your index finger along the top of his head and down his back, “I guess we’re having an early morning, hmm?”

Dimitri wiggled his way over your arm and atop of your shoulder, nuzzling the side base of your neck while you huffed and pushed yourself up. Your feet dangled over the edge of the bed as you braced yourself, your eyes hanging upon your reflection across the mirror.

The shirt you had been wearing was Cleo’s, a dark gray tattered sweater that hung loosely over a shoulder with a few stains from the coffee you spilled. You put it on the second your apartment grew too empty and quiet, hoping to inhale her scent and be filled with her aroma. The shirt no longer smelled of her but you couldn’t bring yourself to take off for a wash.

Her cotton sweater had become a hug of home.

Dimitri squeaked in your ear, “I’m going I’m going.”

You aimlessly stared at the Christmas tree in your living room. It felt heavy and cold, like a ghost stalking in the corner, frozen and unable to travel past. It had been untouched, unlit. Christmas had gone from being your favorite, to the holiday you dreaded. Cleo had brought a new meaning to the holiday and without her, it felt as if Jack Frost came instead of the old man in his sleigh.

At least you tried – purchasing a tree and decorating it. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to light it up every night. It was simply there for the concept of the festivities.

Dimitri’s whiskers tickled against your jaw and you sighed, “only because it’s Christmas.” You stalked to the tree and bent down, plugging in the strand of lights, watching as red and green illuminated the room to your face. Dimitri squealed in excitement and you slightly smiled with your lips closed, “breakfast shall we?”

Entering your kitchen, you placed Dimitri on the counter before brazing over to the fridge, to get out leftover pancakes and syrup from the morning prior. Placing them in the microwave, you reached to open a cabinet for a mug, however, Dimitri’s frantic squeals halted your movement. Your eyes widened in worry, “what’s the matter?”

Tiny hands waved side to side and your brows furrowed, “you don’t want me getting my mug?” His head nodded while he waved with his hands, “then how am I supposed to drink my coffee?” Dimitri scurried among the counter top, disappearing through a hole in the wall.

Leaning upon the edge of the counter, your gaze narrowed as you tried to peer through the small dark hole. Reaching in as Dimitri became visible behind a brown paper bag. “What are you sneaking about?” you arched a brow, taking both Dimitri and the clumped bag in hand. Dimitri squeaked giddy and ran atop of your arm to perch on your shoulder, glancing from your face to the brown paper bag at hand.

It was heavy in your palm yet you ever so carefully peeled it open. Licking your lips, you pulled out a dark green mug, etched with a pine tree–inside laid a crumpled small piece of paper. Your eyes began to blur in glee and you couldn’t help the genuine grin that returned to your face for the first time.

“You sneaky sneak,” you breathed at your friend and placed the mug down to open the note.

𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙤 𝙢𝙚𝙪 𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙤 – 𝙘.

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good-night-doll · 2 years

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Meeting Cleo Cazo~

:The wretched stench of the unknown causes you to investigate your cell neighbours case. With the help of her small rodent friend, you forget about the purpose of your initial interaction.

Word count: 536

Warnings: None

(I have yet to proof read so be aware, thanks!)

The wretched stench of the unknown pours into your cell, invading your senses and ruining your mood. This has been going on for weeks now and it's been putting you off of your food, giving you troubles sleeping and even some instances where you've vomited over the foul smell. It's grown old.

Slamming your tight fists into the small table top, you push back the cheap chair provided by the prison, the metal legs scraping deviously against the hardened floor. Your mind was full of sour thoughts as you approached the wall where a small hole gives you access to the cell beyond the rusted thick bars.

"Excuse me?" Your voice reaps with a bitter undertone as your eyes come to rest on the prisoner. Her orange jumpsuit makes her obnoxiously bright as her short grubby hair slides off of the crook of her tanned neck.

"I said excuse me?" The foreign girl groans, her head twisting as her hands ball into fists, her bedsheets draping from her grasp. "Yes? Hello?"

"What?" She mumbles into her food stained pillow, her voice barely making sense.

"What's that smell?" You stupidly sniffle, recoiling in disgust.

"What?" She asks again, turning her head to the small bared hole you're positioned at. Her eyes are hooded from the afternoon sleep.

"Come here" you demand, tching with an unnecessary eye roll.

Slowly, the teenage girl flops out of bed, hair dishevelled and dry lips parted with heavy sighs for breaths. Her cheeks are missing their vein of life like her emerald eyes. Her feet uncaringly drag against the floor, hands slapping against her eyes to rub away the drowsy state of mind.

"What?" She repeats herself for a third time, causing your jaw to clamp as your teeth agonisingly grind against one another. Through gritted teeth, you speak again "What is that smell?" your voice leaking with a more assertive growl.

"Oh- that's Sebastian's food" she gives you a small smile, eyes flicking down to something on the floor- the source of the stench. "He's a picky eater"

"Sebastian?" You tilt your head, looking around her sketch covered cell for a roommate. A single picture of a man and a younger girl is stuck beside the window.

"Sebastian" she copies your single worded sentence nonchalantly, bopping down to come back up with a small rodent gripping her hand. His fur covered body is embraced in a small red utility jacket as he looks at you, whiskers twitching as his nose dances. "I think he likes you" her small smile widens, eyes glancing back to you.

"Uh-huh" you step back, the rat smelling like its moulding supper. "Nice to meet you too, Sebastian" the animal squeaks back, standing on his hind legs as he offers you an open hand..?

The girl brings him up to the thick bars, his little clawed hand stretching as far as it can. "You can't leave him hanging" cautiously, your hand reaches to the rodents', his small claws tickling your skin as he tries to shake the tip of your middle finger.

"I'm Cleo" you look back at the girl- Cleo- to see her staring at you with a new found sparkle in her eyes.

"I-I'm Y/n…"

#ratcatcher 2 #cleo cazo #dc universe #Sebastian #Sebastian the rat #dc #cleo #prison interaction #ratcatcher 2 x reader #reader insert #cleo x reader #cleo cazo x reader #dc imagine #imagine #suicide squad

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jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist · 1 year

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Yandere Ratcatcher 2 (Cleo Cazo)

Y/N escape but stopped by Cleo Cazo

Cleo: Why did you try escape my love?

Y/N: I wasn't escaping Celo I promise.

Cleo summons army of rats surrounding Y/N

Cleo: Do you want a dozen angry rodents crawling up your @$$ again Y/N!?

Y/N: No I don't

Cleo: why do you come back inside while I'll think punishment for you later.

Y/N: yes my love

Cleo approach Y/N and grabs Y/N's hand moves it to her stomach.

Cleo: Don't ever leave us again got it Y/N.

Y/N comes home while Cleo adds 50 more rats watching you and guarding while Sebastian watches you the most.

Btw this is one shot story.

I hope you like this as well

#cleo cazo #cleo cazo imagine #cleo cazo ratcatcher 2 #ratcatcher 2 #ratcatcher 2 imagine #ratcatcher 2 x reader #yandere Cleo Cazo #ratcatcher 2 x male reader #Cleo Cazo x male reader #dc comics #dc comics imagine #Yandere Ratcatcher 2

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 2 years

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Imagine Trying to Cheer Nanaue up With a Makeover:

A/N: I love Nanaue/King Shark from The Suicide Squad very much and I haven’t written an imagine in forever, so here’s a silly thing I came up with at like 2am a couple of nights ago. Also Reader is a part of the Suicide Squad in this so... yeah. Also, this was beta read but it was beta read at 5am so... yeah, lol.

“Do you think he ever gets bored of like… just wearing jeans?”

Cleo stopped staring out of the bus’s window to glance down at you slumped against her shoulder, then to where Nanaue was sitting across the aisle pouting. She looked back at you and after a moment gave a low-energy shrug. “I don’t know, I don’t think he seems to mind. He’s probably more upset about the fake moustache.”

Poor Nanaue, not being allowed to join the rest of Task Force X-slash-the Suicide Squad in the gentlemen��s club to find the Thinker. Your skills on the team included using technology to make realistic illusions that would have dealt with the “King Shark doesn’t have a feasible disguise” problem that DuBois and Rick were using to keep Nanaue out of the public eye but when you offered up the suggestion, you were shut down by the secondary issue of the demigod seeing every living creature as food. So there you were, feeling bad that Nanaue couldn’t join the fun as the bus slowly pulled up to the club.

“Well, guess it’s time,” Cleo commented at you. She lightly shrugged and you moved off of her so she could place Sebastian on her shoulder instead. Then she stood up and adjusted the dress she was wearing as her own disguise.

Sebastian gave you a cheerful wave and squeak as he passed and you smiled and gave him a quick head pat in return. You however made no other move to prepare to leave the bus, which had Cleo quirking an eyebrow at you and shooing you to move so she could get past.

“I don’t think I’m going to go,” you said as you pulled your legs up onto the chair and wriggled your way across the seat to give her room to get out.

“Why not? It might be fun.” Despite her very casual attempt to convince you, your rat-controlling friend shuffled past you into the aisle.

“Might be,” you admitted, “but it’s not fair that all of us aren’t able to go. Besides, I don’t drink and clubs aren’t really my scene.”

Cleo snorted and offered you a smirk. “And you think it’s mine? Or his?”

She pointed and you looked over at Abner, the Polka Dot Man, who was trying to decide whether or not he should tuck in his shirt while Dabois and Rick tried to brief the team in the aisle next to him, with very little success.

You smirked back. “To be fair, you look very pretty. Like my grandma. In her coffin.”

The comment earned you a flick to the forehead, which made you snicker. Then Cleo shoved her hand into your face as she flipped you off but she had a goodnatured smile on her face all the while. “Fuck you.”

“Hey,” Rick suddenly hollered in your direction, and the two of you jolted to look over; he was coming your way. He stopped in front of you and Cleo, grabbing the back of the seat in front of you as he threw an expectant look your way. “What are you doing? Get up, we’re about to go.”

You frowned and looked over at Nanaue again, who had now moved to grumble in the back of the bus. His back was facing the rest of the team in pouting defiance.

“[Y/N],” Rick scolded, “no.”

You turned back to the man with a puppy dog-eyed pout. Outside of Harley Quinn, you were the longest reoccurring member of the Suicide Squad–killing, robbing, and being good at your job had a habit of doing that to people under Amanda Wallace’s thumb–so you and Rick knew each other well. Well, not well; you barely knew each other really, but you had a love-hate relationship that you enjoyed. That is, you loved to give him shit and he was forced to admit that you were a pretty good asset and thus had to endure you.

“Ricky,” you whined, flinging yourself over his arms, “he looks so sad, though.”

Rick sighed but made no move to remove you. He knew that if he actually tried to wrangle you, you would do the exact opposite of what he ordered you to do, so he tried half-hearted reasoning. “We are this close of being done here, [Y/N], and this whole thing would be a lot easier if you could just… illusion us in and out of there.”

You gasped, eyes growing starry as you stared up at him. The expression changed from lovestruck to morbidly amused in a flash as you smirked, “Aw, Richard, are you saying you need me?”

“I’m saying it would be easier–”

“Say please~”

“No.”

“Please~?”

Rick looked like he wanted to bash his head into the nearest wall. The thought made you giggle. After a few moments of what you assumed was silently begging whatever higher powers existed to give him patience, the soldier’s eyes rolled back to glare at you. “Please, would you just–”

“What’s going on?” DuBois yelled from the front of the bus. You peeked over Rick’s shoulder and saw his older war buddy glaring. The man, first name being Robert and alias being Bloodsport but you liked DuBois better, was messing with his mundane clothes like everyone else with. You supposed that being imprisoned for a while with only orange jumpsuits to wear would make any other clothing feel a little odd.

You answered before Rick could with an aggressive wave in DuBois’s direction, just to make sure he knew who was talking. “I’m not going!”

DuBois’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “You’re not going? Why?”

“They are,” Rick tried to intervene, “Just give us a minute–”

“We don’t have a minute!”

“We also don’t need a minute!” you chimed in. You sat high up on your knees on the bus seat and tapped Rick’s nose with a finger. “I’m not going. The idea of needle-head man freaks me out and it’s probably smarter to leave Nanaue versus a very nom-nom-looking human bus driver, yeah?”

You heard shuffling from behind you followed by a questioning sound from the shark-man in question. “Nom-nom?”

“No,” Rick, DuBois, and Cleo sounded at once, then Rick gave you a glare.

The kindly stating that you weren’t going didn’t seem to work but pointing out that you were more qualified to keep Nanaue from eating people than Milton was definitely a swaying argument. Just for added effect, you clasped your hands together and gave Rick your best puppy eyes and smile once more, although it once again cracked and turned into an expression that was a little more unsettling when you pleaded, “I’ll be good, I promise! C’mon, Dick Flag!”

“Heh, dick-flag,” Cleo snorted next to you.

Rick frowned but you could tell his resolve was cracking. “You’re not much better than the bus driver. Probably worse. You killed 500 people in two days because you said they all looked like your ex.”

Your eye twitched. “They did! At the time. And if he hadn’t cheated on me and stolen my money, it would have never been a problem.”

DuBois broke first. “Flag, we don’t have time. We’ll figure out something else, let’s just get the hell out of here.”

For a moment, Rick looked like he was preparing to argue further but he quickly decided it wasn’t worth it. He pointed a warning finger at you before turning and walking to the front of the bus, then out of it. One by one, the other squad members followed, until Cleo and Sebastian came up the rear and the two waved at you before departing.

“And then there was three,” you chirped to no one at all, although you were still in the presence of the pouting Nanaue and Milton the bus driver. You sat and waited until your teammates disappeared into the club, then twisted in your seat to face your sharky companion. “Hey, Nanaue!”

Nanaue only grunted in response. After being disappointed twice now, he wasn’t willing to take the bait for a possible third.

You had no intentions of disappointing him, though. You hopped over the back of the bus seat, then the next two, until you were sitting in the same row as him with only an aisle separating you. You waited there for a moment to see if you would earn anymore acknowledgement and when you didn’t, you slid over to sit directly next to him.

The so-called King Shark’s small, dark eyes watched you but when you got closer, he harrumphed and turned as far away from you as he could without literally leaving the bus through one of the windows. You gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder but his only response was to cross his arms and growl over his shoulder at you, “Go away.”

“But Nanaue, how will we go explore the town without each other?” you asked. In the meantime, you pulled up the sleeve of your disguise’s puffy blouse and fiddled with the dials on an augmented arm brace that you wore underneath. Once you were satisfied, you pressed a button on the brace an a small puff of pink smog was released from a grate on the device’s wrists. For anyone else, the puff was simply a small billow of colored air that smelled a bit sweet, but you knew that there was an army of microscopic nanobots following your orders. As the smoke dispersed, you pulled down your sleeve again and wafted a breeze in Nanaue’s direction.

“No exploring,” Nanaue pouted, “No disguise. No fake moustache.” Then he caught a whiff of your brace’s work and shifted to catch you still waving air at him. “Ew. What is that?”

“Well,” you started, then paused as you took a glance at the bus window to confirm your nanobots were working. The reflection in the glass showed you sitting next to a random, albeit large, human man instead of a sharky hybrid and you grinned. With a point at the window to draw Nanaue’s attention there, you continued, “It’s not a fake moustache but it’s one heck of a disguise.”

Nanaue looked at the window, then grunted in confusion at it. You drew his attention to the reflection itself and then he growled at the reflection that didn’t seem to look like it belonged to him, only for him to be surprised that that the human reflection moved with him. You watched with an amused little smirk as he executed some tests; he raised a webbed hand and the human reflection followed, he tilted his head and the reflection did the same. It took him a little while to get to the most obvious conclusion–that the human reflection following his movements was in fact his own–but then he looked at you as he raised both hands to his face, patting lightly. He groaned confusedly with a twinge of sadness, “Human?”

“Oh, gosh, no,” you said as you quickly shook your head. You placed your hands over the shark-man’s own and squeezed, giving his face a squish. “You’d be much less fun that way, promise. I just gave you a little disguise of your own so you wouldn’t feel left out on the party! You’re still all sharky-like, I just changed what everyone else sees.”

“Party?” Nanaue echoed as he dropped his hands. His head lurched to look towards the club where the rest of the team had gone.

“I mean we could go in the stuffy boring bar,” you admitted with a tilt of your head and a bored sigh for effect, “or we could take a walk on the town. Check out the stores, try some of the local cuisines, have a nom-nom chaser or two…”

Nanaue’s eyes shined like little black pearls; he didn’t get some of the words you were saying, like cuisine, but he certainly understood nom-noms. He got to his feet, jostling you and the entire bus in the process, and pushed into the center aisle. In the process, one soft, silvery hand engulfed your own human-toned one and Nanaue dragged you after him. “Friend and Nanaue get nom-noms!”

You would have clapped if you had both hands free but you simply grinned and followed Nanaue off the bus, much to bus driver Milton’s dismay.

~~~~~

“Nanaue~” you sang from your perch on a chaise-style lounge chair in a random clothing boutique. The rest of your sentence faded off a bit as your eyes caught a particularly interesting tidbit in the magazine that you were perusing and you casually kicked your feet as you looked the text over. Towards the end of the reading, you remembered that you had been saying something and shook your head to refocus. “Nanaue, how’s it going in there?”

Some grumbles sounded and the curtain that separated from you from the dressing room that your companion was in shivered. From the gap between the floor and the curtain’s end, you could see Nanaue’s feet turning, and a bulge appeared caused by his dorsal fin appeared briefly in the fabric as his back faced the exit. Eventually, he got twisted around enough in the tiny space to be able to grab the curtain, but rather than pulling it open properly, he yanked it off it’s rail completely and tossed it to the side.

You tossed your magazine to the side and clapped as he wriggled himself free from the dressing room and stepped out into the viewing area. “Look at you! What an outfit for a man! So much better than some of the stuff that everyone else was wearing, like that god-awful yellow shirt that Rick had on. Didn’t fit him too bad, though.”

Not too long into your and Nanaue’s tour, you managed to find a store that sold clothes for larger men. With some minor editing–like tearing a hole in shirts for a fin and hemming some pant legs–you were able to come up with enough outfits for Nanaue to give you a little fashion show and the demigod, high on exploration and human flesh, was in a good enough mood to give you what you wanted. Instead of his usual and only pair of ratty shorts, Nanaue now wore a pair of what looked like jeans but were made with a stretchier fabric along with a tank top and a brightly patterned button-up polo shirt.

“And I thought the jean jacket was the best one.” You chirped as you hopped to your feet. You tried to circle him and assess the outfit from all angles but to no avail because Nanaue started turning with you. You checked out the outfit in the three old mirrors that faced the viewing area from different angles instead and noticed the collar of the overshirt twisted oddly–probably because it wasn’t really a shirt meant for people with fins on their backs–so you stepped up to Nanaue and fixed it for him. Then you stepped back and placed your hands on your hips with an approving nod. “This one’s definitely the best. What do you think?”

Nanaue shrugged but then appeared to notice one of the mirrors for the first time. He eyed himself a bit and flapped his arms, then shrugged again. “Okay.”

“That’s all?”

“Mhm. Hungry.”

You sighed but you couldn’t really blame him. He was quite big, after all.

“Well, let’s head out then. Sorry for the lack of cash, Ms. Shopowner, Ma’am! You’ll just have to put it on our tab.” You waved over to the counter, where the bloody remains of an arm sat on the glass, then headed toward the shattered front window of the boutique with Nanaue in tow. “Wait, do clothing stores even have tabs? Hm.”

Nanaue shrugged yet again and grabbed the leftover arm as he ambled after you.

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suicidesquadexchange · 1 year

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final reveals posted! view the collection here

#the suicide squad #abner krill #cleo cazo #abner x reader #abner x cleo #dceu

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darthtaoshay · 2 years

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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝒟𝒞 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜

♡ Be specific with your request, do not just put ‘blank x blank with blank’

♡ I will and can deny requests. As a writer who does this in her free time when she feels up to it, I can pick what I want to write. Also, I work and do other things outside of writing. Please do not constantly ask or pressure for work to be posted.

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒:

Incest, Pedophilia, Glorification of any illness (including: Depression, Su*cide, Self-Harm, and/or Addiction), Virgin!Reader or Male!Readers. Nothing involving drugs aside from cigarettes.

I DO NOT DO CHARACTER X CHARACTER ALONE. I WILL DO CHARACTER X READER X CHARACTER

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝐼 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇:

Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Rick Flag, Robert DuBois, Captain Boomerang, Slade Wilson, Clark Kent, Conner Kent, Gar Logan, Hank Hall, Adrian Chase, Christopher Smith, and John Stewart.

Barbara Gordon, Kate Kane, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Starfire, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Catwoman, Cleo Cazo, Diana Prince, Raven, Carol Ferris, Dawn Granger, Donna Troy, Blackfire, Renee Montoya, Helena Bertinelli, Dinah Lance, Emilia Harcourt, and Leota Adebayo.

REQUEST FORM

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babblydrabbly · 3 years

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Imagine the Squad's Reactions to You Crying || Poly!Squad x Reader

Pairing(s): Select Suicide Squad Members x Neutral!Reader

Characters: Harley Quinn, Boomerang, Bloodsport, Ratcatcher II, Peacemaker, Rick Flag, Polka Dot Man.

Warnings: Language. Hurt/comfort. Some angst. Mentions of suicide (And by that I mean canon typical Abner).

[ A/N: I'm calling them imagines, but I guess they're drabbles too. Really just some indulgent hurt/comfort for my own soft self. Technically canon-divergent; Let's pretend this group is all on some random mission pre-suicide squad 2021. Criminal!Reader. ]

Imagine that Belle Reve has forced you to toughen up, to numb out and ignore everything that made ever made you who you are. On a mission with the suicide squad, out in the world again, it hits you: These are the only times you really feel free anymore— And how laughable is that? The thought seizes you like a punch to the gut, makes you finally break right there in the middle of the mission. You have to excuse yourself from the team when you think no one's looking— just to let the faucet run for a bit in private.

You think you won't hear the end of it if anyone catches you, but you're wrong.

Harley Quinn

"Thought I heard you bawlin' over here." You jump when Harley pushes through the forest brush, unsurprised to see you in your messy state. She's got her arms crossed, and you can't blame her. There's a chill out here cutting right through you too, and you hug your knees closer to your chest when Harley has a seat right down at your feet. "Sorry, I was—" You feel ridiculous, holding back a hiccup. You know your hair is messed up from brushing the wetness away from your eyes, your cheeks ruddy. "I was gonna come right back." Harley snorts, leaning her head down until her temple is resting on your knee. She looks up at you, yawning. It's 0500—Dawn hadn't even broken over the mountains yet— and you still had hours to keep trudging. "Why're you sorry?" You pause at that, blinking the last of your tears away. Harley watches as one of them falls down between the two of you, pursing her lips as she waits for you to answer. You shrug. You've this conversation with Harley before— She knows you inside out by now. Knows you're not the hard criminal you pretended to be out on these things. In fact, she knew you were quite the opposite; When you swiftly broke from the group just to disappear a few feet away, Harley had a feeling you needed a minute. You supposed you were sorry because plenty of people had jumped ship when the going got tough with you— You knew it was the same for Harley too. Your silence, her silence, there wasn't anything more that needed to be said. Harley considers words of encouragement, but you're a tough cookie. —Even if you don't think you are. You liked this moment of quiet anyway. Lifting your hand, you thread your fingers through her hair; It comforts you the way Harley sighs and noses at your knees, her eyes falling closed. "Wake me up when they're done figurin' out what to do next." She mumbles against you. And the task is enough to break you from your downward spiral, her soft breathing all you need to calm your addled mind.

Boomerang

"You back there, [Y/n]?" Harkness had turned to you during the conversation, only to see you had disappeared. He had a crude joke he knew would get you laughing— It seemed like you needed it, the way you'd been acting earlier. He pauses. "—Shit. You alright?" When he sees you sitting there, quickly wiping your red eyes with the palms of your hands, he lets go of the branches he's holding back and waits for you to say something. When you don't, he saunters over as casually as he can muster; George has a feeling making fun of you wouldn't land right this time. You expect him to try cheering you up, but instead, he plops down next to you on the stupid little rock digging uncomfortably into your uniform and nods. "Yeah, fuckin' sucks out here, don't it?" You crack a smile despite yourself. Shaking your head, you tried taking a deep breath. "Actually... I was thinking about how much I love it out here, in spite of it all." You say quietly. You know he meant the mission, the life-or-death stuff. How you get to see the great Pacific Northwest for the first time, and it's all because you've been sent out here to blow some of it up. But you can't help but breathe in the cold pine air— To relish the quiet, living forest around the two of you. Even with his thick trench coat, Harkness is shivering, his arms coming up to rub his own shoulders in an attempt to warm up. You chuckle then. Wrapping your arm around him, he breaks out into that toothy grin of his as he returns the gesture. You let your head fall on his shoulder, a warm feeling flooding you when he lets you without protest. A tender warmth floods George too, the cold night air forgotten. "You ready to fuck some shit up, [L/n]?" He says, patting you on the back after awhile. You roll your eyes, but your shared penchant for chaos makes you you smirk. Dragging yourself back up, you help lift him back onto his feet, laughing when he tries to pull you back down with his weight. "I am now."

Bloodsport

"The hell's wrong with you?" You snort at DuBois' gruff way of showing concern. He's standing there with his helmet at his hip, face twisted in an awkward grimace. "Well?" He tries again when you say nothing. "Since when d'you get all...snuffly?" He comes over and has a seat without an invitation, keeping his eyes over on the rest of the squad through the trees. He lets you finish feeling sorry for yourself, the tears coming to end but still there, still clearly streaking down your red, puffy face. You swallow thickly as the two of you sit in odd silence. When his hand comes to rest on your thigh, warmth still radiating through his glove, a bit of relief washes over you. You always joke that he runs hot— What with all the spite and bitterness that keeps him fueled up. Even now, he doesn't seemed bothered by the weather. Robert lets you take his hand in yours, and your face crumples when his grasp turns over to entwine with your fingers firmly. "It's gonna be alright, love." He says first. He doesn't know why this one's bothering you so much. He's not even sure if it's his place to ask. He considers the details of the missions— Tries to discern if there's something about it that's different this time. When he can't come up with an answer, he simply squeezes your hand again. A small smile ghosts his lips for just a moment before it's gone. You swallow down another hiccup, nodding your head as best you can. "I just... I thought I was so much more than this, you know?" You hear your voice break in your ears. You have to look away again, embarrassed. But your words slice through Robert like a knife— Hit too close to home for him— And his gaze suddenly hardens. "Hey," He says, his voice stern. He brings your hand to his chest, keeping it there against his heart. You look back at him, startled by the sudden fire in his eye. “You fuckin' are, alright? You’re not just this. Don't you fucking forget it."

Ratcatcher II

"[Y/n]? [Y/n], what's wrong?" You startle at the pair of hands that reach down and cup your face without warning. You had only been on one other mission with Cleo Cazo so far. You were apprehensive about making friends with new members— There wasn't enough time to even get to know half them. It wasn't called the Suicide Squad for nothing. But despite the challenges, despite the hardship that came with being on the task force, it never seemed to stop Cleo from being one of the kindest fucking people you'd ever met. It made you a little jealous, the way she stayed so true to herself, even while inside Belle Reve. Your brows knit together when you meet her look of genuine concern, and you rip your face away from her palms abruptly. You feel shame wash over you— Shame over letting this practical stranger see you weak like this. "Nothing." You say, standing back up. You steel yourself from any more prodding, expecting her to say more. You jump again when Cleo wraps her arms around you in a tight hug instead. The gesture almost pisses you off— Almost. But you're still upset. Still not finished feeling sorry for yourself. You feel the waterworks come back with a vengeance at her tender embrace. When your shoulders shake involuntarily, you curse under your breath, tears falling down your cheeks again. Your lip quivers as Cleo pulls away to aim another concerned look at you. "...How do you do it?" You whisper. "Doesn't it break you? Being trapped like this?" Cleo mulls over your words, her thumb stroking your elbow gently. You shiver, gripping her back. "It is hard." She finally admits, matching your quiet voice. "But I just have to remember I'm not alone." You huff, cracking up when Sebastian the rat suddenly pops up over Cleo's shoulder, waving at you. Cleo delights in seeing you cheer up, but still takes a moment to hold your face again. You let her this time, biting back another sob at her touch. "You're not alone either, [Y/n]. I'm here for you." A small squeak. "We're here for you."

Peacemaker

"Jesus fuck!" You nearly shout when you look up and see Smith there in the dark. "How long have you been standing there?" He'd followed you shortly after you broke away from the group. If it had been any other member, he would've been suspicious about how you left without a word. But even though you butted heads, he considered how he knew you pretty well by now— And you weren't stupid enough to desert the task force. At least, he hoped you weren't. When he sees you sitting there, shoulders shaking as you cup your face in your hands, Chris uncharacteristically freezes. He expected plenty— Just not to see you crying quietly. You arch your brow when he clears his throat. "I, uh. You look like you need a minute." He's turning back to step through the brush when you stand, waving him off. "I'm fine." You say. He shoots you a look, stopping; He doesn't buy it. Smith makes his way over to you, planting his feet squarely in your path. "Bullshit." He says simply. "I've seen you take a bullet to the gut. You didn't even cry then." You roll your eyes. "That was probably the shock, Chris." You're one of the few people who call him by his name anymore. It's partly the reason he steps closer, his voice softening as he gets a better look at your face. "What's up, [L/n]? One of these fucker's say something to you?" You shake you head, a chuckle threatening to distract you from your little pity party. "No. It's not them. It's just—" Nope. You can't do it. One more word, and you're going to burst into tears. Again. You bite back a whimper, quickly glancing away. Smith seems to understand then; He wasn't going to pry it out of you if you weren't going to say it. You exhale shakily when a pair of strong arms envelope you in a brief hug. Smith pulls away at arm's length after a moment, nodding at you. "Take your time. I'll let 'em know you need a minute. And— [Y/n]?" You blink up at him. "You can tell me." He tries, his eyes darting away. "Maybe some other time, you can talk to me."

Rick Flag

"[Y/n]?” While the others argued amongst themselves, your team leader notes your absence with just a hair of alarm. He had plenty to worry about during missions— Very rarely did he ever have to worry about you. You glance up to see Rick assessing you silently, and you instantly try to play it off. "I was going to come straight back." You assure him, before anything else. Like he'd actually bring Waller up on the comms and tell her to blow your head off for stepping a few feet away from the group. You almost wish he would just have a squat beside you, but instead he takes one knee, and most of your view with it. You duck your head; You don't know why, but a shame washes over you when Rick looks at you like this. He didn't need another member losing it. He takes your chin in your hand carefully. "What's wrong, [Y/n]?" You brace for the dam to break, your lip a quivering mess. The sight stabs at him. When he sets his rifle down to wrap his arms around you, you can't help the whimper that escapes your throat. "Just tired." You mumble into his shoulder. He lets you cry it out for a few minutes more before you compose yourself. There's nothing he can offer you as a free man— No words that won't sound hypocritical or simply fall short when it came to your situation. "I know that I don't know, [Y/n]. But you don't have to lie to me." You want to fight to keep from falling apart again. So you smile instead, knowing in this quiet moment that he means it. "I'll be okay." You tell him. And the corner of Rick's lips quirk in the sly way of his. "I know you will." He says, finally letting you go. "But I'm here when it's not alright either, understand?" You give him a shitty little salute that makes him crack up. As if to put a point on just how much trust he had in you, he lets you pick up his rifle, nodding when you hand it back to him. "Copy that, Colonel." "Rick." You grin. "Rick."

Polka Dot Man

Abner says nothing when he finds you sitting there, crying to yourself. His steps approach you without making you jump, and you glance away when he has a seat beside you. "...I know. It tends to build, doesn't it." He says for you. Like you've just poured out everything you've been thinking, and you worry briefly that his inter-dimensional powers might include some form of telepathy. Because the look he's giving you when you finally turn your head to him, the utter, shining sympathy on his face makes you wrack with another sob. Your shoulders heaving as you collapsing into a mess again. Normally he’s the nervous wreck. Normally, when the others don’t get why he’s on the brink again, you’re there, soothing him with a gentle bump of your shoulder against his. Your companionable silence was always enough for him— You saw Abner. He tries to return the favor by scooting closer to you. He wasn’t one for touching, so you’re surprised when you feel Abner slip his hand around yours. “Everytime we’re out here, I wonder with baited glee what will finally kill me.” He sighs. You’re glad the others aren’t around, because you can’t imagine what they would say if they saw the way you and Abner exchange wide grins. “A rockslide would be pretty badass.” You throw out casually. You wipe your drying eyes with a sniffle. He chuckles a little at that. “I would have preferred a cold avalanche, but I don’t think there’s enough snow this time of year.” He waits for you to collect yourself without any more, patient as you finally stand. You pull him up with you, holding both his hands there between you for a moment. “You’re right, Ab.” You say. “Let’s make it through this one. There's better ways to die.” Let’s make it through this time, for the hell of it. It’s a silly little promise— one you keep managing to make to each other over and over. This many squad missions later, you wonder what kind of joke someone out there is playing. Abner’s smile lights you up. Sometimes you wonder if he dusts it off just for you. You hoped, anyway.

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fandomnerd9602 · 5 months

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Cleo Cazo (Ratcatcher 2) X reader please.

Dubois: alright we’re all going to split off and cover more-

Cleo jumps on Y/N’s back…

Cleo: I stay with Y/N

Dubois: but the team has to-

Cleo: no. I am staying with them

Cleo whines…

Y/N: you heard the lady, Bloodsport.

Sebastian the rat squeaks in agreement…

#dc comics #dc comics fluff #dc comics incorrect quotes #dc comics imagine #dceu #ratcatcher #ratcatcher 2 #ratcatcher 2 x reader #cleo cazo #cleo cazo x reader #the suicide squad #daniela melchior

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l-artemisia-del-secolo · 3 years

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Masterlist

Yelena Belova - headcanons (hc) and fics + q&a about the character

Natasha Romanoff - headcanons (hc) and fics

Captain Carter - headcanons

Drinking whiskey with Captain Carter would include

Cleo Cazo - headcanons (hc)

Cleo Cazo introducing you to Sebastian would include

Waking up with ratcather 2 would include

Antonia Dreykov - headcanons (hc)

Staying with Antonia Dreykov after the destruction of the Red Room would include

Sylvie - headcanons (hc)

Patching Sylvie up after her encounters with TVA would include

Sylvie stabbing you in the back would include

Kate Bishop - fics and headcanons + q&a about the character

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sp1drrthwips · 1 year

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DISCO LOVE

cleo cazo x gn reader ; fluff

summary — gets tipsy while waiting for the thinker

content / cws — alcohol, drunk people

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎

cleo giggled as she swayed back and forth with you, ignoring all the sweaty drunk people that surrounded you two.

"cleo." you stopped, noticing the pink tint and sheepish smile on your girlfriend's face.

she let out a low 'hmm?' as she continued swaying, her smile growing.

"are you tipsy?" you smiled, watching as your girlfriend tried to reach you without tipping over, despite the closeness between you two.

"no." she slurred, frowning as she shook her head dramatically and crossed her arms.

you let out a chuckle and connected your lips with hers, wrapping your arms around her waist whilst her hands moved to your shoulders.

"flag is gonna be annoyed." you disconnected your lips from hers and looked her in the eyes.

"stop talking about colonel, i wanna talk about you right now." she wrapped her arms around your neck, sloppily connecting her lips with yours again.

"i love you." she mumbled against your lips, pulling you closer if that was even possible.

"what you need to love right now is water, c'mon, you need to be sober for the rest of the mission." she groaned and tried to tighten her grip around you so you couldn't pull away.

"i'm not drinking water until you say it back." she crossed her arms, stopping in her tracks while you tried to drag her away so you could get her water.

"i love you too, now please, water time." she smiled and kissed you once again before skipping away, now dragging you behind her.

#cleo cazo #cleo cazo x reader #cleo cazo x gender neutral reader #the suicide squad #ratcatcher 2 x reader #ratcatcher 2

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moonlit-imagines · 2 years

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warnings:

a/n:

requested by anonymous

It took some time to travel back home from Corto Maltese, but sooner or later, Cleo had made her way back home to you. Unannounced. And with a guest. You answered the knock on the door and nearly lost it when your wife waved to you on the porch. “Hiii, amante. You miss me?” You jumped into her arms and held her tight, something you didn’t have the chance to do before she went away. “This is my friend, Robert. I know this is a lot, but is it okay if he stays a night or two?”

“It’s—yeah, it’s okay. That’s fine, come on in.” You told them. “Shoes, hey, the shoes. Off.” You warned them, making sure to set a good example for your young son who alerted the home with his exaggerated footsteps.

“Who is it? Who’s here?” He asked, freezing when he recognized the woman in the doorway smiling so purely at him.

“It’s Mommy!” You cheered and your son ran into Cleo’s arms, delighted to be lifted up and rocked back and forth in the air.

“You have a child?!” Robert’s jaw dropped and you laughed awkwardly.

“Cleo, how long have you known this man? And how exactly are you here right now?” You whispered to her while your son waved to her friend, who gave him a weird little fistbump.

“Don’t worry, he’s good company. And I’ll explain later.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @randomfandomimagine // @summersimmerus // @bad4amficideas // @xoxobabydolls //

#cleo cazo imagine #cleo cazo x reader #cleo cazo #ratcatcher ii imagine #ratcatcher ii x reader #ratcatcher ii #robert dubois #robert dubois x reader #robert dubois imagine #bloodsport imagine #bloodsport x reader #bloodsport #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #suicide squad #suicide squad x reader #suicide squad imagine

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purestxblood · 1 year

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𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗢 𝗖𝗔𝗭𝗢 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

Hello wonderfuls, ♡ thank you so much for taking the time to check out my works. Comments, likes, & reblogs are always appreciated as I love to hear your thoughts.

Like every talented writer, I do not give permission for any of my works to be translated, rewritten, copied and posted on platforms other than my own accounts here on Tumblr & Wattpad unless stated otherwise.

Feel free to join my 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 to stay up to date & be notified for your favorite character one-shots.

☁️ 𝗙𝗟𝗨𝗙𝗙. 💌: 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘. 🌑: 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗦. 🌶️: 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧.

𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗦.

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘, cleo cazo. ☁️ 🌑

𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦.

𝗗𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗘𝗦, cleo cazo. ☁️

“I promise you, you’ll be loved forever.”

#cleo cazo #cleo cazo x reader #ratcatcher 2 #ratcatcher ii #ratcatcher 2 x reader #ratcatcher ii x reader #the suicide squad

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coffeemoods · 3 years

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Dating Cleo Cazo would include

Let's say she's out of prison.

Buckle up, the girl's a heavy sleeper.

She could sleep through anything so it might take a while if you're planning to wake her. (That scene where King Shark was literally trying to devour her but Cleo stayed asleep.💀)

You'd be the first one to stir awake every morning, but that doesn't put you at a disadvantage when you could spend much time gazing at her morning face.

Now, objective one: Rouse her from slumber.

Gentle touches or shaking wouldn't cut it, maybe kisses are worth a try.

Cleo loves your forehead and cheek kisses.

“Y/n stop, it tickles!”

“Then wake up, sleepy head.”

These are the moments she cherishes, so pure and endearing in contrast to her traumatic childhood.

Objective two: Get her out of bed.

“How long do you think it'd take me to get you out of bed this time?”

“I just woke up, I don't function well early in the morning.”

She might groan and whine for a while but she'd get up eventually.

Let's talk about her rat friends.

She'd introduced you to Sebastian before you two started dating.

“Why do you seem scared? Look, he's offering you a pretty leaf to show you he means no harm!”

“Why the fuck would I want a leaf?!”

She'd burst out laughing at your horrified state.

“You're just like Bloodsport.”

One night she'd take you out to stargaze and open up about her past.

“But why rats? Out of all the things.”

“My father once told me rats were the lowliest and most despised of all creatures. If they had a purpose, so did we all.”

After that night you'd begin to warm up to Sebastian and hey, maybe he isn't so awful after all.

Cleo'd be absolutely thrilled when you offer to look after Sebastian while she takes her long-awaited nap.

Well, she naps 24/7 but we don't talk about that.

She'd take you to Belle Reve to meet 'The Suicide Squad', though you hear they consider the term degrading.

Back to the present.

Your relationship consists of lots of kisses and cuddles from each other.

Taking naps together. :D

And taking Sebastian for a walk(?) in a nearby park is a must.

I see Cleo as the type to be patient and understanding.

Her teaching you to wield her wand someday. \ (•◡•) /

You’d both share the ability to control rats.

Seriously though, she trusts you so much to allow you to wield her father’s tool.

“Behold, Ratcatcher 3.”

“Pffft, you wish.”

She loves to watch you laugh, your smile brightens her day effortlessly.

And not once in your life would you ever think to fall for a girl called Ratcatcher.

But who are you to complain?

After all, you’re in love with her and that’s all it matters.

Bonus

(During the visit in Belle Reve)

“So you’re Bloodsport, Cleo told me a lot about you.”

“And you must be y/n.”

Intergration session between him and you? Unfortunately, yes.

Yep, he was the father figure.

“Oh hi! You’re y/n, right?”

Harley was… welcoming, to say the least.

And the shark friend. Oh boy.

“Y/n. Cleo girlfriend?”

“I- what.”

“Nanaue!”

Long story short, the visit was eventful.

And she had to explain what King Shark meant by earlier.

#cleo cazo x reader #suicide squad x reader #ratcatcher x reader #cleo cazo imagines #suicide squad imagine #dc x reader #this was a mess #I had to rewrite a bunch of stuff because tumblr decided to not save half of my sentences.

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