#fic | better off
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Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 6
Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
AO3
Summary: After finally acknowledging the grief of losing her sister, Susie opens a door for her and DeMarco to grow closer
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 4.1k
Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy
Sunlight blinded her the moment her eyelids peeled open, spilling forth through the gap in the curtains and bathing her in a bright, warm glow. Susie groaned, a headache thrumming behind her eyes, an unbearable dryness coating the inside of her throat. Tossing an arm over her face to shield herself from the sun, it took her a long moment to realise she didn't know where she was.
This registered with a sudden panic, a jolt of electricity shocking her awake as she pushed herself to sit up, thick, comfortable bedsheets rustling with each sharp movement. She wasn't in her hut - for a moment her mind even wondered if she'd somehow ended up home, back in Manchester, until she realised her mother had never been able to afford blankets as nice as these.
An indiscernible mass weighed down her feet, and with a gentle kick, Meatball let out a tired whimper, peeking his head up from beneath the opposite end of the duvet. Susie would have laughed had she not been so dumbfounded by her surroundings, the huge double bed and floral wallpaper utterly unfamiliar to her. Turning her head, she noticed a crumpled scrap of paper on the nightstand, and reached across to seize it, resting uncomfortably on one elbow.
Out on a mission. Called in sick on your behalf.
Meatball's been fed. Coffee downstairs.
See you later
Benny
She'd had to squint to read his handwriting, chicken scratch letters almost indecipherable in her freshly conscious state. It took her a second to recall who 'Benny' even was, the nickname so foreign to her. He'd scribbled a smiley face next to his name, and Susie felt the corner of her lips curl upwards, oddly comforted by the gesture.
Memories of the night before began to return to her. Everything since the call with Beatrice had been a blur the moment she'd awoken, but the longer she sat there, watching Meatball roll back and forth across the mattress, things seemed to return to clarity. She was in one of the rooms above the pub - the owner had been reluctant to admit them so late at night, but she faintly recalled DeMarco slipping the man some extra cash. He'd been there when she'd fallen asleep. She'd woken up earlier that morning - at the time she thought she was dreaming, but now it grew apparent that it had been real. He'd been getting ready to leave, treading carefully so as not to make a sound. As he'd placed the note on the table beside her, he'd whispered something... but now she had no idea what on earth he had said.
Unceremoniously casting away the blankets, Susie rose from her bed groaning as she stretched her arms as high above her head as they could go. Beatrice's words from the night before remained etched clearly in her memory, the only thing she could truly recall with any lucidity. She'd forgotten how good it felt to cry. She had no idea how long it had been since the last time she let it happen - not since Ellie died, for certain. The combination of far too much wine and the sudden release of years of pent-up grief certainly had its way of making its effects felt the morning after. Susie staggered towards the bathroom, drinking cold water from her cupped palms with the fervour of someone dying of thirst, the relief to her throat immediate and heavenly.
Meatball darted back and forth between her feet as she dressed, and it was a constant fight not to trip as she pulled on her trousers. She'd awoken wearing what definitely was her sweater, but where it had come from she had no clue, as it had been tucked away in her drawers back at the hut the last time she remembered seeing it.
At least DeMarco had been right about the coffee. It felt strange to drink it sitting up at the bar, the rest of the pub lit with daylight and entirely deserted save for the barman, still cleaning pint glasses from the night before.
"You look like shit," He pointed out.
"Thank you," Susie nodded. There was a clock up on the wall behind the bar, its steady ticking piercing the veil of silence that lingered over the place. She stared at it for a while, watching the second hand rotate around and around as Meatball sniffed at her feet, nudging her toe with his nose. Tilting her cup, she felt a mouthful of hot coffee scald her throat as it worked its way down.
"Hey - d'you know what time the planes left?" She called to the barman as he wandered past, a keg of beer tucked under each arm.
He glanced up at the clock, blowing out a long breath. "Not sure, love. Think your fella left here about four hours ago, but I could be wrong."
"Oh, he's- ...Thanks." Susie gnawed at the inside of her lip, deciding the correction wasn't worth the energy it would take to make.
But there was something pecking away at her insides, something deep in her stomach that made her feel slightly ill the longer she stared up at the clock, watching the minutes tick by. Her heel began to tap incessantly against the leg of her barstool, heaving in one long sigh after the other, fingers drumming against the outside of her mug. There was a restlessness in her that was beginning to drive her mad, and it only worsened with each passing moment she spent just sitting there. Whatever this feeling was, she couldn't just wallow in it.
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Meatball let out a joyful bark as they left the pub, sprinting down to the end of the road and straight back up to her, tail wagging wildly, tongue dangling to the side. Susie had tugged her sweater back on over her uniform shirt from the night before, slightly-too-long sleeves hanging down past her palms, the wool fraying in places around the hems from years of wear and tear.
She'd never attempted to walk all the way to the airstrip from the village, and the further she trekked it was beginning to become clear why. The hike was far longer than she'd envisioned, and by the time they arrived at the runway, her feet ached for release, although Meatball remained as chipper as ever, the familiar surroundings exciting him as he began to sniff around for friendly faces.
"Oi!" Susie was ripped from her thoughts by the echo of Charlotte's voice as the woman approached. Crowds had already begun to assemble, ambulances and medics waiting nearby in preparation for the worst. It was a formation she'd seen countless times before, but for some reason this time it felt different, a bolt of nausea running through her before she forced herself to look away, turning towards her friend. "You look terrible."
"Yeah, I know. Morning to you too."
"They said you were off sick today," Charlotte frowned, brow arched in question. Of course, she had noticed Susie's absence the night before. Whatever had happened - however her sweater had made its way from the hut to her sleeping form - she was bound to have questions.
"Uh, yeah, I am. I just - I wanted to come up here... are they on their way back?"
"Any minute now," She nodded. Folding her arms tight across her chest, Charlotte moved to stand beside Susie, swaying slightly on the balls of her feet as they both stared up at the grey sky above.
"... Y'know," Charlotte began. "I don't mind if you don't tell me where you went. But you can."
Susie leant towards her, their shoulders pressing together. "I know."
Almost as if on cue, the steady hum of engines came into earshot, the dark shapes of returning planes just visible through the thin blanket of cloud. She hadn't realised that she'd begun picking at her nails in agitation until Charlotte reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her hands away from each other. Susie peered down at them, pink flesh raw and sore around the edges of her nails, then glanced across at her friend. Charlotte had noticed what she was doing without even having to look. She shoved her fists into her pockets.
The sounds of engines rose to a deafening roar as they swooped into land, propellers spinning to a slow halt as tyres skidded against concrete, coming to a slow stop one by one in various states of disrepair. Ground crews and medics were already springing into action from the moment the first bomber made touch-down, and all the two women could do was stand and watch, trying their best to make out the names scrawled across the noses of each passing fort.
She had long lost sight of Meatball, the dog skittering around the place and darting between legs in search of anyone familiar to him. Susie had begun to grow paranoid at her inability to locate 'Our Baby' when his bark split the air and he came bounding up to her from within the crowds, leaping up onto his hind legs as one of his claws caught on her sweater.
"Hey, hey, shhh," She cooed, stroking his head until he calmed down, stilling long enough for her to untangle his paw from the knots of wool. Meatball's tail wouldn't stop wagging, his head snapping back and forth between Susie and the crowds that covered the runway. When she glanced up, Charlotte was already walking away, a faint smirk creasing her cheek.
"Suze!" Her gaze darted towards the sudden voice, spotting DeMarco as he crossed the tarmac towards her, dark hair slick with sweat and plastered to his temples.
"Hey," She breathed, wide-eyed as he approached, a laugh escaping his throat as Meatball jumped up at him, barking with glee.
DeMarco stopped in front of her, lifting his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. Yesterday she would've flinched.
"You look nice," He said.
"Oh, shut up," Susie shook her head, breaking their moment of eye contact. He let out a low chuckle, clearly anticipating such a response. "...You alright?"
Nodding for a long moment, DeMarco took a deep breath. "Yeah. Could ask you the same."
"Right, well I was never at risk of getting blown up, but thanks," She huffed, squinting in the sunlight as she began to smile. As he began to shrug off his jacket, DeMarco let out a faint hiss of pain. Susie's eyes narrowed at him, folding her arms across her chest. "Uh-huh, right, so when you said you were fine you were full of shit?"
He batted a hand at her, shaking his head. "It's just a stiff back - woke up with it. 'S what happens when you sleep in a chair all night, y'know."
"You... Did you stay all night?"
DeMarco froze for a second, and from the way he was staring at her, she could tell he was trying to gauge her reaction, to predict her response.
"I... don't wanna answer that if it'll make you mad at me."
"I assumed you'd just come back in the morning. When I saw you leaving-"
"I thought you were asleep when I left."
"Mostly. I thought I was dreaming at the time."
A lopsided, boyish grin spread across his face. "Oh yeah? You dream about me a lot?"
"Oh, Jesus Christ," Susie rolled her eyes, whacking him across the shoulder and making him wince again. "... Sorry."
"It's cool. Hey, I gotta go debrief - I'll see you later, ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, see you later," She nodded. As he began to walk away, she felt a question burning on the tip of her tongue, desperate to be asked. "Oh, hey - DeMarco?"
He stopped, turning back as he waited for her to speak. What had she wanted to say? Why did you stay? What did you say to me before you left? Why can't I think of anything but whether you're alright when you leave?
"Uh- it's nothing. Don't worry about it."
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Susie reached into the paper bag in her lap, passing a sandwich across to DeMarco as he poured a cup of coffee from the thermos, fending off Meatball to prevent him from snatching the meat out from between the bread. It had become a usual occurrence for him to join her on her lunch break, bringing with him food of his own to add to her meagre feast, and he came almost every day when he wasn't flying a mission. Charlotte and Maeve had joined them initially, but after returning to work the pair had been left alone, sitting in the grass beneath one of the trees at the edge of the airfield.
Lying back against the ground, she lifted her foot in the air, holding her toe to blot out the blinding afternoon sun. It was almost perfectly quiet here, the wall of trees muffling the constant noise of the ground crews, toiling away across the field.
"So," DeMarco began, propping himself up on his elbows. "If you weren't working here - if there wasn't a war and we didn't have to do all this - what d'you think you'd be doing right now?"
Susie frowned, letting out a faint huff. "God, I dunno. Probably still be in my old job."
"Which was-?"
"I was the projectionist at the Paramount in Manchester. Y'know - splicing the reels, switching them over, keeping the projectors running. Did that for five years before the war - got bloody good at it." When she looked over at him, he was smiling. "What?"
"Nothin', I just wouldn't have guessed it. You liked it?"
"Well, I got to sit around watching films on my own and no one talked to me."
"That tracks, actually."
Susie laughed, a deep chuckle vibrating from her chest. It had been a long time since she'd thought about that theatre, of the hours she'd spent sitting up in that tiny booth, only half paying attention to whatever book she had in her lap so that she was ready when the film ran its course. The constant clicking, rolling, scrolling sound of the reels of film had once occupied her mind almost permanently - she'd swear she could still hear it at dinner, or lying awake in bed at night, the noise etched into her very brain. But it had been years since she'd heard it now.
She lifted a hand to her mouth, biting nervously at her thumbnail for a moment as she built up the courage to speak again, feeling her heart rate begin to speed up inside her chest.
"I have a question, too."
"Oh yeah?" DeMarco shifted in the grass, propping himself up on one side so that he could face her properly. She wished he'd stop staring at her like that. It was awkward enough to ask what she needed to without those damn eyes on her, his expression always so open and forgiving no matter what venom seemed to lace her tongue.
Susie grunted, pushing herself up to stand as she paced back and forth in front of him for a while. He watched her go this way and that, over and over, beginning to frown. "You havin' a breakdown over there?"
"Will you come with me to Charlotte's wedding?" She blurted, rambling so quickly she was worried the words might have blurred together into a single, unintelligible slur.
"What?" DeMarco grinned, although there wasn't a hint of mockery in his smile.
"Charlotte said I could bring someone, I - I dunno, it's stupid, don't worry about it," Susie shook her head, a hint of red colouring her cheeks.
"No, no! I'll come. Not stupid," He hadn't moved from his spot, cheeks creasing with the weight of his grin.
She threw her hands up, refusing to meet his gaze. "It's just, I'm gonna be the only person showing up on my own otherwise, and it'll be weird and embarrassing and-"
"Hey, Susie! Susie. I already said I'll go. I'm just... I dunno, surprised to be your first choice."
Sitting back down again, Susie let out a long, deep breath, feeling a weight rise off her shoulders now that the question was out there in the open. The idea of showing up alone had been bugging her for weeks, but it wasn't until that morning, sitting alone in the bed he'd paid for, did she realise the answer had been in front of her all this time.
"Well, it's- ...Whatever, it's not like I had any old boyfriends to dig up for the occasion."
"You never had a boyfriend?" DeMarco scoffed in disbelief.
She narrowed her eyes at him, shrugging. "Don't act like it's so unbelievable. I mean, I've done the sex and the snoggin' and all that stuff but... no. Nothing serious. But I'm a bit bloody miserable and not very pretty so it adds up."
"Don't say that," He shook his head slightly, tone suddenly firm.
"Don't say what?"
"Don't say you're not pretty - you're very pretty, Suze."
"Oh, but I am miserable, eh?" Susie joked, attempting to hide how taken aback she'd been by his sudden seriousness.
"Hey, I'm sworn to honesty," DeMarco shrugged, laughing as she lashed out, smacking him on the chest with the back of her hand.
"Bastard."
They slipped into silence, watching Meatball attempt to chase a small group of geese across the field. She chuckled as the dog darted back and forth, the birds leaping to fly over his head whenever he got too close. DeMarco let his head loll to the side again, watching her face as she smiled. Who the hell had told her she wasn't pretty? He couldn't believe it - couldn't fathom how she could either. There was something effortless to her that he found wonderful - how she never bothered to curl or pin her hair, how her uniform was never quite up to regulation, how she never seemed able to tie her necktie the same way twice.
Susie let out a groan, her head tilting back. "What is it now?" He asked.
"Remembered I have a job."
"That's rough. You should probably go do that."
With a sigh, she took the last sip of her coffee and scrambled to her feet, brushing stray pieces of grass off her trousers, a faint patch of damp creeping up her back. There was a leaf stuck to the back of her hair, and as Susie scrambled to collect her things, DeMarco stood up, trying and failing to reach it through her constant movement. She turned, almost bumping into him, their faces only inches apart.
"Can I help you?" Susie asked quietly.
He reached around to the back of her head, plucking away the leaf and holding it up so she could see. "Got it."
Letting out a snort of amusement, she nodded, taking a step back and turning to leave. "Come 'round my hut sometime and I'll give you the wedding invitation," She called over her shoulder, the sunlight hitting her auburn hair and lighting the frizz around its edges a bright, flaming orange.
"Will do!" DeMarco shouted in reply, standing perfectly still as he watched her hike up the slope to the top of the field and disappear. Looking down, he realised he was still holding the leaf in his hand.
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Darkness had begun to fall over Thorpe Abbotts by the time Susie returned from work, a cigarette burning away between her lips as she approached her hut, keys jangling in her palm as she flicked through to find the right one. Sliding it into the lock and opening the door with a click, the place was already almost full as she entered, her bunkmates reading and chatting and pinning their hair into curlers in preparation for the next day. In the centre of the room, Charlotte and Maeve were holding up a long, white wedding gown, each of them gripping one end, eyeing it closely as they talked amongst themselves. Charlotte had spent months preparing the thing, sewing it herself out of scraps of parachute silk, and it was now achingly close to completion with only two weeks to spare.
"How's it lookin'?" Susie asked, strolling past them to get to her bed, shrugging off her jacket as she went.
"Come over here and put it on," Charlotte ordered.
She sighed, kicking her shoes off. "Again?" She and Charlotte shared almost identical measurements, and in the absence of any sort of mannequin, Susie found herself modelling the dress far more often than she would've liked.
"I think this should be the last time - I just need to sew the lace on once it comes in the post. But I'm not sure about the cut of the sleeves."
"Why can't you just put it on yourself?"
"Fine! Fine, God," Shaking her head, Susie crossed the room towards them, stripping off her uniform as she went. Her friends helped her into the dress, feeling almost lost beneath the layers of identical silk. Charlotte was slightly taller than her, so the hem of the skirt crumpled itself against the floor, but it was otherwise an almost perfect fit.
Maeve sat on the end of her bed, watching as Charlotte surveyed the dress, muttering inaudibly to herself as she poked at the sleeves and the fit of the bodice. Susie refused to turn her head for fear that she'd catch sight of her reflection in one of the girls' mirrors. She'd seen Charlotte wear it enough times to know what it must have looked like on her, but something about the idea of seeing it made her intensely uncomfortable.
"See, I'm thinking of taking the sleeves up a bit," Charlotte explained, marking out with her finger where she wanted to raise the fabric. "Like this, see?"
"Yeah, I think that'd be nice," Mave nodded. She had been dragged into the project just as involuntarily as Susie had, but they played their parts diligently for Charlotte's sake.
A knock sounded at the front door to the hut, and one of the other women scrambled up off her bed to go and answer it. People came by all the time, so the interruption hadn't even caught Susie's attention until her name was called.
"Susie! It's for you."
Her brow furrowed. "Who is it?" She replied, already thinking up an excuse to avoid having to go to the door. The woman stuck her head around the door again, talking briefly to whoever was outside.
"Says his name's Benny."
Maeve's face seemed to light up, grinning over at her. "Fuck's sake," Susie muttered, hiking up her skirts with as much care for Charlotte's handiwork as she could as she marched towards the front door.
DeMarco stood out in the darkness, a nearby streetlight basking half of his face in a warm glow. He'd smiled the moment she'd appeared in the doorway, but it faded into confusion as he took a moment to process her appearance.
"... Oh?"
She rolled her eyes. "Charlotte's wedding dress. We're the same size, she's- ...I dunno what she's doing really."
He let out a chuckle, nodding. She hadn't had a chance to deal with her hair since getting back, and curls protruded at all angles from the bun on the back of her head, which had been steadily slipping out of place for hours. Paired with the wedding gown, it was a distinctly strange combination.
"Well, I just came by to get the invite, I didn't mean to interrupt... whatever this is."
"Ooh, right," Susie nodded, using one of the other girls' boots as a makeshift doorstop as she scurried back inside, skirt held up to her knees as she rummaged in the drawer of her nightstand until she found it.
"There you go," She declared, holding it out to him as she returned.
"Thanks," DeMarco nodded, slipping the invitation into his pocket. Looking back up at her, he couldn't help but stare for a moment. Despite the strangeness of the situation, he couldn't deny that it suited her. He cleared his throat, shaking his head before his mind was allowed to wander to places he wasn't ready for. "Ok, well. Have fun with this," He said, gesturing to her dress. "I'll see you around."
"Yes," Susie spoke slowly, flashing him an awkward smile. As she reached back to close the door, a forgotten pin hidden inside one of the seams poked through her flesh, eliciting a hiss of pain. "Fuck! Charlotte, you haven't taken all the pins out of this thing!"
From somewhere inside, Charlotte's voice echoed. "Take it off before you get blood on it!"
Benny cleared his throat, feeling heat rise to his face. "Oh, right, ok - I'll be on my way."
"Bye!" She yelped, practically slamming the door in his face in her desperation to get out of the dress. Through the door, he could hear muffled voices, fast and irritated, and he let out a chuckle, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he walked away.
#masters of the air#masters of the air oc#bernard demarco#bernard demarco x oc#mota#mota oc#mota fic#masters of the air fic#oc: susie#fic | better off
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oh
i am. unwell.
#LABRU NATION LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOO#BRO I AM EATING DIRT AND FLINGING MYSELF OFF A CLIFF#mentally i live here now#in this hand holding scene#i’ve watched this scene in three different languages#and all the kabru VAs got The Memo#speak to Laios in soft husky sexy tones#killing me with a knife would have been better#it would have been merciful#because what do you mean this is their last interaction for a good long while#someone pls put me out of my misery#or there will be consequences#like me writing insane labru fic idk#wasabi rambles#labru#laios touden#kabru of utaya#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#oh … dungeon meshi …
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i think you guys are onto smth..
i unironically got invested in this HELP
#WHERES THE FIC AT IF SOMEONE WRITES THIS I WILL PAY THEM A HUNDRED DOLLARS😭😭#kunikida serving the country while dazai's serving cunt😔#dazai was born to malewife but forced to manipulate and i think that's the greatest tragedy of bsd#anyway some facts i would like to share abt this au thay i came up w while drawing!!#takes place in 1939 (start of wwii) and there was a mandatory draft that required one male over eighteen from each house to serve#both of them are still twenty two and had been engaged for abt two years before getting married that year#newlyweds! unfortunately kuni had to go fight and they were seperated :(#before the war kunikida was a math teacher at the local high school and dazai obviously managed the household and didn't work#he's hopeless at cooking and meal prep even w recipie books so they either get those prepackaged meals or kuni makes dinner when he gets ba#so like when he's making lunch for kunikida he normally just packs a basic sandwich w raw fruit#kunikida always appreciates the effort even tho hes probably sick of having the same thing everyday but he won't complain abt it#when kunikida joined the army he was relieved that the mess hall had better food than dazai#he was the only one in his platoon that never complained abt the food so his fellow soldiers assumed it was bc he came from a tough bg#when in reality he was just used to being poisoned on a daily basis from his dumbass husbands cooking and was hardly fazed from army ration#they write to each other although its more dazai sending and kuni receiving bc hes off fighting and doesnt have time to write back#dazai talks abt life on the homefront and how he has to grow a victory garden (everything is DYING HE CANT EVEN RAISE TOMATOES)#and kuni writes abt his fellow soldiers and how the war is going and when he thinks he'll be home and how he misses sleeping in a bed#ANYWAY yea thought i'd share sry for infodumping in the tags again#this post is for like the four ppl that care abt this specific flavor of knkdz so hopefully this gets four notes at least#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#kunikida doppo#doppo kunikida#kunikidazai#knkdz#lotus draws#bro sry for posting at two in the morning i couldnt sleep until i got this out of my head they have infested my brain
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I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :
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(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )
#tumblr polls#hrmm... a little poll perhaps.. about a subject I find interesting.. since this image came across my facebook today#still really not feeling that well. no longer shaking violently and such but I still feel weird and weak much more than usual#They did say my markers for like infection or inflammation were elevated but that they werent sure of the cause so hopefully#it's nothing too serious. they did also say a lot of different things can cause that thing to be higher than normal but didn't go into spec#fics of what. maybe some of them are relatively benign or something. I still havent felt much back to normal since#I got really sick that one time though. I feel fine on and off but then little bouts of feeling weird and sick happen. hrmmm#ANYWAY.. looking for small ways to be productive. such as little doodles on evil ipad or editing game videos#or posting polls or cat pictures or some other like not very labor intensive things#I WISH I COULD FOCUS on writing HHRGGhh... I need to finish my game.. it would be so freeing.. a project that's been looming#over my head for like 5 years even though througouht that 5yrs I've probably spent a total of 3 months working on it lo.. ANYWAY#I still partially really cannot beleive that people CAN see stuff in their heads. There's always part of me that's thinking like. well mayb#e everyone DOES see the same exact thing but we just describe/conceptualize it so differently that we think we're talking about#different things when we're really not. But I have been assured by people I've talked to about it that they can GENUINELY really see#stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I#can hear in my head much better than I can see imagery. I still CANNOT hear vividly like as if I were listening to actual music out loud..#but I think it's developed more than my sight. AND interesting how this varies the creative process. a friend I was talking to on the phone#said they write by literally just watching stuff play before them like a movie. where my process is COMPLETELY different. AND that affects#the content/what details we focus on as well as our individual styles of writing have differences that can be traced back to that.. hrmm
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my art for how greedy my heart by @matchingbatbites | for the @steddiebang
Chapter 1 is up now!!
#joey fic!!!!#it was so fun being paired with one of my besties for the big bang!#y’all go read chapter 1 !!#peep the missing ring i forgot to draw#oops#we’ll just say he took it off for mobility and safety precautions#also posting better late than never#found a slight shibari fascination in the research of this#i tried to make these ties as biblically accurate as possible#steddie bang#i draw things#steddie fanart#so thatssss fun
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orv dump 5(?)
#do NOTTT look closely at the last one absolutely hate the rendering and how yjh turned out there#so sorry to her she's just here to fill out the space cjwhqkdkd I'll edit this img and change it when I get to render it better...#but for now... The version I don't like HELP#rizdoodads#orviz#orv#Commentary time#first img oooh sorry it's taking so long rizashdaff nation HELP#I've finally rendered Han sooyoung in there after 1 billion years. Still haven't rendered the sword... Baby steps kuno! Jhwke#2nd img ARGGHH I think I'll redraw some parts of it but overall... I'm iffy on it KWHEKF we'll see if this survives as it is!#3rd img. Redraw of my previous uriel. Thought abt fake clip-on bangs and honestly I thought it'd be cute! And it was#4th img oooh this was for yhk week freeday but my stupid ass made it like this one long img and it was midterms week#<- could not finish but the idea is yhk domestic marriage life#5th img based off of that beautifully written transfem yjh fic emmm IN REDRAWING THIS I PROMMYYY I DONT LIKE IT PLEASSEEE DONT LOOK AT IT#Anyway that's all 👍
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yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always.
#atp i need to shut and write the omega verse fics that consistency plague my mind#but while im here time for my obligatory megumi mention bc i mentioned dogs teehee#yes megumi attack dog hes megumi grumbly yes megumi bark bark bite bite BUT BUT BUTTTT#megumi is also used to like... hm........ taming? having? caring for? people in his life and also literal (divine) dogs#so for him yes he bites and barks#but he also... he gets confused if YOU dont follow him around like a puppy bc everyone else in his life has so why not you?#gojo's always been the annoying yapping pomeranian chewing on his arm even if he didn't ask#always in megumi's space even tho he didn't ask but he learned to deal with it#won't admit it but knows that too much attention is better than having someone who couldn't give a shit about you#yuuji is the golden in everybody's life and megumi is no exception#unmovable unshakeable and incredibly addictive even if he doesn't mean to be#and very very attached to the people he cares about so yeah yuuji is loud and annoying but he's also loyal and megumi respects that so fine#nobara is like... she decided she liked megumi and was upset about it so she bit his ankle and he tried to kick her off but she has too muc#pride to get shaken off by someone as scrawny as megumi and somewhere along the way megumi became impressed that she was still there even i#it hurt a bit and she was a little rough it's not like he was worse so fine whatever she can stay too#so if you like... if you dont hover around megumi if you dont pry if you dont prod then he has to be the dog smh#now he's gotta bite for your attention and nudge you and how annoying. he's gonna keep doing it tho. as long as he has to#or until you learn to fall in line and accept your leash too whichever comes first n e way.... anyway.............#somebody's pampered omega always gets what he wants megumi complex is showing......#this was about yuuta right? ok i'll put his tags now....#juju#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader
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[MK's phone rings]
MK, answering: hello?
Wukong: hey kid!! uh, you're not gonna like this, but I need you to come uh… pick me up?
MK: oh, sure! i'm on break right now anyways, where are you?
Wukong: …uh.
MK, suddenly suspicious: …Monkey King. where are you.
Wukong: so um. I'm kinda… in the underworld?
MK: the W H A T.
Wukong: now i know that sounds bad-
MK: what are you doing in the underworld????!!!??
Wukong: …impromptu vacation?
MK: Monkey King.
Macaque, from offscreen: he was rescuing me
MK: huh??
Macaque, now on the phone screen: this idiot-
Wukong: hey!
Macaque: saw me getting kidnapped, and went, "oh, wow, perfect chance for me to be a hero agai-"
MK, unprompted: the hero and the war-
Macaque, panicked: SHH SHHHH SHH SHHH. We don't talk about that.
MK: …ah.
Macaque: ahem. anyways, heh, I could've gotten free myself-
Wukong: you were crying when i found you-
Macaque: a- SHH!!! WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT EITHER!!! jeez, can i not say a single sentence around here???
Wukong: nope
MK: absolutely not
Macaque:
Macaque: when the dragon kid and the pig guy find out i killed you both i'll make sure they know it was for perfectly good reaso-
Wukong: OH SHIT THE GUARDS-
[Phone hangs up]
MK:
MK, calling Pigsy: hey, Dadsy? yeah, i'm gonna need a week long break again-
#Monkie Kid#lego monkie kid#lmk sun wukong#lmk macaque#lmk qi xiaotian#this is. essentially. almost a mini fic in script form.#i copy pasted this directly outta my notes so idk if the formatting on it is off or not#anyways. this better be how s5 starts istg
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Imagine if Nico could learn to control when he turns into shadows.
Like, in The Blood of Olympus Nico would start fading after shadow traveling too much, and sometimes Reyna and Coach Hedge wouldn't be able to touch him, and one time he even accidentally walked through a tree. Imagine if he learned to control that intangibility.
Imagine if he could just turn parts of his body into shadows. Imagine if, in a fight, someone swings at him, and he knows he can't dodge in time, so he turns into shadows for a second so the weapon goes right through him, and while his enemy is confused he uses the distraction to land the final blow.
Imagine if he could just walk/reach through walls and doors and stuff.
I just think that, for someone with the title of ghost king (and as a child of the Underworld), he deserves more ghost-like powers.
#i might write a fic about this 🤔#we'll see#i just think itd be so cool#he would be the best at a haunted house#and it would be so useful in fights#maybe now that he's taking better care of himself post tsats he'll have enough energy to not get so tired after using his powers#so itll be safer to start experimenting with smth like this#tbh i think nico has the best potential power-wise bc the underworld is so vast so he could potentially have a lot of different abilities#hazel too tbh#like we've seen that nico can control the earth/rocks so i bet hazel has some contol over the dead and she just hasnt really tried yet#but im getting off topic lol#point is i think nico should have the ability to basically become a ghost at will (but not in the dying way)#nico di angelo#riordanverse#rick riordan#heros of olympus#pjo hoo toa
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sucks that we're having regressive arguments about the direction of ao3 like "should we ban some content" and not forward thinking discussions like "we should get the ability to search or exclude all ship tags with a certain character name in it"
EDIT: 0kay, new discussion!
"there are a lot of elements of ao3 that people do not know about as they are not immediately obvious, or in fact require information that is not readily available. so it's kinda douchey when someone says 'i wish ao3 had this' to then respond 'well ao3 DOES have this!' without actually bothering to tell the person how to do it."
No thanks to literally anyone who made this sort of comment. Actual thanks go to @batcavescolony for explaining it in the replies like a decent person.
#maybe im biased in wanting this because im sick of having to scroll past x/reader fics when i already excluded the character tag 'reader'#ao3 should be surfing the chromium lined path to the future! instead we are being pulled off the road into a ditch by shadows of the past#i've already given good reasons not to ban content but also another one is because ao3 will waste resources FAILING to enforce such a ban#the ao3 people should be focusing on making the site better and content bans distract from that#ao3
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so like reverse robins, if done right, i love em. anything reverse robins i ever write will never have Steph become Babs. it doesn't make sense to her character for her to become oracle, would she be great at it, absolutely, but it doesn't make sense.
there's always debate on whether it should be Steph or Tim to die and more or less become Jason. my answer is that Tim get's joker jr'd and kills himself (+ the joker if your so inclined (but joker would have to be revived somehow for plot reasons) (you can make it Bruce if you want more angst)) then Steph becomes robin because Tim always talked about how gotham needed a robin and she wanted to honor him in a way only she could. then the thing with black mask happens and she still fakes her death travels, heals, grieves, and comes back when she heard bruce picked up a new kid. (Jason wasn't robin yet, just living in the manor but Steph new it was only a matter of time)
so she comes back to gotham and decides she's gonna take care of crime alley her way, and revamps her old spoiler costume. (she may not have grown up there but she was a few streets away and she knew what a place like that did to kids) (she also has no ties to Bruce anymore so her no killing thing gets a whole lot more lax)(she kills her father - that's how bruce and the others found out shes back in town). and openly feuds with black mask over territory and brutally maims him but like just a bit.
Then Jason becomes robin and six months later Tim is back. he's different and definitely a bit more unhinged, but efficient as ever. he quickly takes over the drug trade and helps Steph get rid of the worst of the worst. But doesn't do the whole try to make Bruce kill the joker thing, instead he makes Bruce watch as Tim does and warns him that if he tries to revive the joker again (damian aka nightwing def killed the joker & Bruce brought him back) that they Will Have Problems. Tho he is going as Joker Jr. as a fuck you and a threat to pretty much everyone, after all they all knew what happened to the 2nd robin.
In summary Tim & Steph split up the Red Hood traits
Duffle bag of heads - tim, he's dramatic
Died (like burried in a grave and crawled out died) - tim
Guns - Steph
The joker - tim (but steph will shoot the fucker on sight so help her god)
Black mask war - steph (obvi)
Crime alley - steph mainly (but tim lurks around and every crime alley kid & sex worker knows that if they ever need something JJ will take care of it no questions asked)
Drug trade - tim
Scaring/pissing B off - both, they make it a game
Murder - both as a treat
#also didn't know where to put this but steph and tim have a shared gang where they awkwardly coparent their goons#so like there a 2 fics in mind for this au so far#one based off 'work song' by hozier#and the other is crime alley learning to trust JJ/RedHood!Tim#this starts out as TimSteph like when tim first comes back from the grave but they talk and process and realise their better off as friends#reverse robins#kaz's reverse robins#tim drake#bruce wayne#stephanie brow#dc spoiler#joker junior#batman#dc batman#dc robin#robin
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Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 1
Masterlist |-| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
AO3
Summary: When Bernard DeMarco is forced to find ATS Commander Susie Lamb, his expectations are tainted by her less-than-savoury reputation. However, the more time he spends with her, the more he begins to suspect she's been misjudged by the people of Thorpe Abbotts.
Warnings: Language, drinking, smoking
Word Count: 4.5k
Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd
Bernard DeMarco stared down at the steadily cooling coffee in his hand, the warmth of the mug heating his palms, which had been chilled to the bone even through his gloves on the long-haul flight over from Greenland. Almost ten hours in the sky, staring out at nothing but rolling clouds and the faint grey line of the horizon. Even with Cleven chatting at his side and Meatball nudging the back of his seat, it had been difficult to stay alert for so long, and now he found himself in dear want of a rest.
Instead, he was here, sitting around a long table in the mess hall when he could've been in bed, listening to his friends' chatter, his dog resting its snout against his knee. Benny knew how to pretend he wasn't feeling the wear - to put on a grin and laugh along to everyone's jokes as if he were still awake and raring to go, when the thing he wanted more than anything was a chance to shed the uniform he'd been wearing all day and just sit down somewhere quiet.
The door to the mess hall swung open and the Colonel wandered in, peering with a frown at the piece of paper in his hand, a typed list he couldn't make out stamped upon it. "Colonel," Egan nodded, tilting an imaginary cap in greeting. Hugh stopped at the end of the table, surveying the faces of the group that had assembled.
"Afternoon fellas. I got a supply list I need running up to the ATS - just some stuff we're gonna need brought in for the next run. Uh... DeMarco? D'you mind?"
DeMarco's brow furrowed in confusion, glancing around at the others to check if anyone else had noticed how unorthodox this order was. "Sir? All due respect, but ain't that a job for a runner or somethin'?"
"Usually, but... I'd like someone a little more experienced."
At the opposite end of the table, a playful grin had begun making its way across his face. "Oh-ho, he's gotta talk to Commander Lamb, don't he?"
Bucky had begun to smirk to himself, lifting a hand over his mouth to make it less obvious. Benny figured he must've looked somewhere between dumbstruck and panicked by the way Hugh had begun to speak in a soothing, gentle tone. "Look, the Commander's just a little difficult. We send the runners up there, she gets 'em all turned around, and they don't get the information we need. I'm lookin' for a firm hand, is all. Besides, you can give the dog a walk."
He was thoroughly unsatisfied with this justification for making him walk halfway across the airfield, but it was becoming clearer by the minute that it wasn't something he could get out of. With a disgruntled sigh, he rose to his feet, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he grabbed Meatball's leash, the dog already at his heels, tail wagging and ready to go, far more chipper than his owner. DeMarco grabbed the list from the Colonel without so much as glancing at its contents, heading towards the mess hall doors to the sound of Biddick's chuckling.
The sun hung high in the sky, a beacon in a sea of blue, the weather so blissfully perfect that it actually seemed to worsen his mood more than anything. He was usually a fun guy, everyone thought so, but today he was just too goddamn tired. Meatball was having the time of his life, drinking from every puddle and pissing against every tree they passed, the constant stopping only succeeding in doubling the time their journey took. By the time he reached the ATS garages, DeMarco was confident he never wanted to see Hugh's stupid list - or whoever this Commander Lamb was - ever again.
The garages were a bustle of activity, trucks and motorbikes pulling in and out all over the place, Air Force and ATS alike hauling crates of all kinds of ammunition, food supplies, and whatever else the air base could possibly require. Standing in the doorway of the nearest building was a woman - easy on the eyes, orange-haired, staring down at a clipboard in her hand as she ticked off whatever the men nearby were carrying inside.
"Uh- ma'am?" He called, tugging on Meatball's lead as they approached. The woman seemed to see the dog before she did DeMarco, a pleasant smile creasing her cheeks as she looked up at him.
"Yes... Captain?" She asked, peering at the insignia on his jacket for confirmation.
"I gotta supply list from Colonel Hugh to pass onto a Commander Lamb?"
The woman raised a brow as if to say 'You sure about that?', but she turned nevertheless, yelling over her shoulder into the huge supply hangar behind her. "Susie!"
Peering past the woman, DeMarco watched as a figure approached from inside, initially obscured by the shadow of a huge supply truck, but when she stepped into the light it gave him pause. Her hair fell unpinned halfway down her back, brown waves shining red in the sunlight. She wore olive slacks instead of the standard-issue uniform skirt, and a leather bomber jacket with 'S. Lamb' printed on the breast like the ones he'd seen some of the pilots wear. She hardly looked like she was supposed to be on duty at all, but she marched up to them all the same, taking the clipboard from the other woman and looking it over.
"Charlotte, go help Fisher - she's got some stuff to go to Sergeant Bevan on the hardstand," She ordered, and the woman scurried away inside. Once the two of them were alone, Susie stared back at him for a long moment, brow raised as she waited for him to speak. "...So?"
Suddenly DeMarco was beginning to understand what the others had meant. Her accent was harsh, less refined than the other English workers he'd met since his arrival, and she didn't exactly look pleased to see him. Frankly, she had a face that suggested she was never glad to see anyone.
"Got a list from Colonel Hugh - requests for ammo supplies," He stated, holding it up to her. "We need-"
"Ah-" Lamb raised a hand to stop him. "If you're gonna talk, you've gotta walk with me."
She began to walk before he had a chance to respond. "Well alright then," He muttered under his breath, beginning to trail after her, tugging at Meatball's lead so that he would follow along. "Five hundred AN-M30s, four hundred AN-M64s, six hundred USAAF five hundred pound-ers..." DeMarco rattled off Hugh's list, squinting to read the paper as it shook in his hand against the breeze. Ahead of him, Susie was peering into the backs of the row of trucks that had just arrived, scribbling away on her clipboard. He wasn't entirely sure she was listening.
He stopped talking just before they reached the end of the row, having to tug Meatball along as he got distracted by the crates of food being brought in. Lamb ticked something off in her notes before turning on her heel to look at him. "That everything?"
"Yeah, that's it," Benny confirmed, sliding the list back into his pocket. She raised her brow again in that inquisitive way she did. It was already getting annoying.
"I'm not gonna remember all that, am I? Gimme the list," She huffed, holding out her hand.
"Then why did you have me read it all out?" He grumbled, fishing out the wad of paper and handing it over.
"I didn't ask you to do that. I just said if you were gonna, you'd have to follow me," Thinking it over, he realised she was right. He hated that. "But, yunno. Most of the runners Hugh sends up here would've already shat themselves and run off by now, so good job."
DeMarco bristled, squaring his shoulders. "I'm not a runner, I'm a Captain."
Susie was looking down at the list, but she peered back up at him with a wonky grin. "Jesus, what'd you do to get stuck with the 'Susie Lamb punishment', eh? Did your dog take a shit on the Colonel's desk or summat?"
He frowned, her self-awareness almost alarming. She clearly knew what the others said about her, but she simply didn't care - in all honesty, there was something he admired in that.
"I think the Colonel just wanted someone who wouldn't get scared off," He confessed.
She snorted. "Maybe he should try hiring runners who don't piss themselves whenever a woman frowns at 'em." For a moment the shell almost seemed cracked, a not-so-scary Susie peeking out. But then a loud clatter sounded across the yard, and DeMarco turned to see one of the deliverymen scrounging to pick up the machine gun rounds that had scattered across the tarmac when he accidentally dropped a crate. "Oi!" Susie yelled, beginning to storm off, raising a hand in what could've either been a wave goodbye or a dismission
Meatball tried to nip at her heels as she marched towards the deliveryman, tugging on his leash with such force that DeMarco was almost forced to follow, but he managed to stand his ground. He couldn't make out what Susie was saying at such a distance, but by the way the colour drained from the poor man's face, it was nothing good. Letting out a chuckle, he counted himself lucky that he had yet to meet Commander Lamb at her most formidable.
After all, she did have access to all the bombs.
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The sun had barely risen by the time the pilots stepped onto the runway, the airfield bursting into a bustle of activity as the last planes were prepped, and the flight crews readied themselves to board. DeMarco had managed a decent half night's sleep, and was at least in a better mood than he had been the previous afternoon. Although, the powdered eggs they'd served up for breakfast hadn't helped.
There were a dozen things to worry about concerning the flight ahead, but in all honesty he was mainly concerned about what he was going to do with Meatball. It seemed not to have occurred to him when he first adopted the stray that he couldn't bring him on missions, and the prospect of leaving him all alone damn near broke his heart.
His train of thought was severed by the roar of engines as a supply truck rolled up to 'Our Baby' just along the runway to deliver the last of the spare machine gun rounds. A familiar flicker of red caught the light as Susie Lamb craned her head out of the driver's seat window, barking to one of the ground crewmen as he scurried to unload the cargo. An idea sparked in DeMarco's mind, and he could already see Curt shooting him a confounded look as he bounded up to the vehicle.
Susie was just reaching for a lighter, an unlit cigarette poised between her lips, as he reached her window, plastering on the best friendly smile that he could muster. She hadn't heard him approach over the hum of the engine, and the shock of the face suddenly at her side made the cigarette tumble from her mouth, falling into the footwell. "Jesus fucking Christ," She hissed, voice thick with irritation. "Can I help you?"
"I don't have anyone to watch Meatball while I'm up," Benny explained, and she peered out of the window at the dog, who was staring slack-jawed up at her, wagging its tail. "I was wondering if I could trouble you for the favour?"
There was that eyebrow again. She had a way of drawing out those painful silences that just made him want to squirm, immediately regretting whatever he'd asked. Perhaps Hugh's runners had had a point.
"You want me to babysit your dog?"
Suddenly the suggestion felt ridiculous. "Well, I just-"
"Eh, fuck it," Sticking her foot out, Susie kicked open the passenger side door. "Chuck him in."
The moment DeMarco moved to unclip Meatball's leash, it was as if he knew exactly where he was going, claws skittering against the tarmac as he bounded around to the other side of the truck, leaping unprompted up into the seat, tail wagging wildly. It was almost offensive, how pleased the mutt was to be rid of him. "Alright, alright," Benny muttered, closing the door behind him. "Thanks for this. Seriously."
"It's nothing - he already seems to prefer me, anyway."
Shaking his head, he cleared his throat- loudly. "Name's DeMarco, by the way. Bernard DeMarco."
Susie was already tugging at the handbrake, the engine roaring to life once more. "Yeah, I know," She nodded, an almost-smile tugging at her lips, pulling away before he could respond as Meatball's head lolled happily out of the window.
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The supply depot was almost empty by the time the pilots returned, the rumble of DeMarco's freshly commandeered jeep splitting the silence as he rolled to a stop, looking around for some sign of his dog. "Susie?" He called as he clambered out, peering into each hangar as he passed, unable to locate any signs of life. The ATS women seemed to have all taken the afternoon - that or they were all busy delivering supplies to the mechanics.
"Susie?"
A familiar bark pierced the air, and he followed it around to the back of one of the buildings. A bench ran along the back wall of the hangar, basking in the afternoon sunlight, and there she sat, a book open in her lap, halfway through eating a sandwich. Her hair was pulled back messily into a bun, stray auburn curls sticking out at random angles, and Meatball lay stretched out at her feet, occasionally jumping up to chase after a tiny yellow butterfly.
"Ah. You're alive then," Susie stated plainly, squinting in the sun as she looked up at him.
DeMarco shrugged. "Just about."
"That's good. Didn't know what I was gonna do with him otherwise," She gestured to Meatball using her sandwich, chuckling as the dog snapped his jaws at a passing insect. "... You ok?"
"Do I not look it?" He took at seat at the opposite end of the bench, a deliberate gap left between them. Benny didn't exactly want to hang around; he was just tired, and he appreciated the opportunity to sit on something that wasn't moving.
"There's a cut on your cheek," She pointed out, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she talked around her food. Raising a hand to his face, DeMarco's fingertips came away red. He hadn't even noticed the pain.
"Occupational hazard... did you feed him?"
"Gave him a sandwich."
"You can't feed a dog a sandwich!" DeMarco exclaimed, and Susie shrugged, nonchalant in a way that annoyed him.
"Well, you're the one who made it my problem! Didn't even ask if I knew what to feed the damn thing!"
"Well, I just assumed you were a human being and had some inclination that dogs might eat dog food. Forgive me."
Susie shot him a glare. "Having a dog isn't a prerequisite to being alive, mate. D'you think I've got dog food sitting around? I have an actual job that I have to do, it gets in the way a bit."
He turned sideways on the bench to look at her properly. "Y'know, I thought people didn't like you because you're mean. But it's really because you don't give a shit about anything except yourself, isn't it?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He wasn't that kind of person - he didn't say those kinds of things to people. He didn't want Susie to think that he did. But she seemed entirely unphased, taking another bite of her sandwich with so little a reaction he almost doubted ever having spoken at all. She chewed and swallowed painfully slowly, and he began to realise she was prolonging the silence on purpose, giving him time to stew on his own words. DeMarco felt his face begin to heat up.
"You can take the dog back now," She said after a while, turning to the next page of her book.
"Susie, I'm sorry," He blurted. She looked at him then, and for a moment he swore he saw surprise in her expression. "I shouldn't've said that."
"Heard worse. Though, most people actually mean it," Susie shrugged. "And I do give a shit about other people. It just... takes a minute."
Nodding slowly, he let out a whistle, and Meatball bounded over, tail wagging as he dutifully allowed him to reattach his leash. DeMarco wasn't quite sure what to say. He didn't know this woman, not yet, but he was getting the distinct impression that the others had been wrong about her. As he stood up, running a hand across his chin, he took a deep breath. "Hey. Me and the fellas are gonna get drinks tonight, to celebrate the mission. You should come."
The corners of her lips turned up in a smirk. "Yeah. I mean, I was going anyway - but I'll be there."
"Alright," Benny nodded, smiling involuntarily. "I'll buy you a beer. Call it payment - for the babysitting."
"Well if I'm getting paid I definitely won't feed him sandwiches next time," Susie joked. He let out a laugh, suddenly realising that, yes. There would be a next time.
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If there was one thing Thorpe Abbotts would have benefitted from, it was an additional pub. The village had not been prepared for the sudden influx of pilots and crew and the hundreds of other workers that came with them, so a night in the pub had become a sure recipe for claustrophobia and havoc. Meatball was curled up at DeMarco's feet, half sitting on him for lack of space beneath the table. A pile of empty pint glasses was growing in the centre of the table, laughter growing louder with each passing drink as they grew steadily more intoxicated - drunk on victory more than they were alcohol.
Susie stood at the bar with a small group of ATS girls, beer in hand, listening and chuckling along to their stories of workplace mishaps and awkward encounters with the men they had to work with. Even if every single other person at Thorpe Abbotts thought poorly of her, the women under Susie's command never would. She was a protector - a personification of a rougher class of women, utterly unafraid to throw a punch where the others shied away. In Norfolk, it was uncommon to find an English girl working in a job like this who hadn't been raised in privilege - middle-class families in country cottages, who had never had reason to find an occupation until war broke out. None of them quite understood why Susie Lamb had come all this way, her Manchester accent sticking out like a sore thumb - but they were glad she had.
"-And then I told him, 'Mate, if you're not gone in five minutes, I'll kick your balls so far up your throat you won't need breakfast'," Susie explained, the women around her erupting into laughter as she wiped a thin line of beer foam away from her top lip.
Charlotte chuckled, the red-haired Subaltern finishing off a half-pint of cider as she reached into her pocket for a cigarette. "The pool table's freed up - we should get in there before the Yanks get a chance."
Susie nodded in firm agreement, and was about to follow the other women towards the far corner of the pub when a sudden mass at her feet almost tripped her, beer sloshing over the rim of her glass and landing on Meatball's head as he let out a bewildered yelp. Letting out a tsk as she sucked her teeth, she crouched down beside the dog, grabbing for a napkin as she dabbed at his fur. "You've gotta watch yourself, lad," She scolded gently, soft voice barely audible in the pub's din. "Can't go wonderin', your dad'll worry."
Tilting his damp head up at her, Meatball let out a whine, his tail beginning to wag as he seemed to recognise her face. "Hey, Meatball, quit runnin' off," A familiar voice called across the crowd. Giving the dog an affectionate scratch below its chin, Susie rose to her feet, lifting a hand to beckon DeMarco over. "Oh, hey. Well, at least he found a familiar face in this damn place," He huffed.
"Well, he did get covered in beer for his trouble, not sure he'll bother again," She shrugged, batting Meatball away as he tried to stick his nose up under the hem of her skirt.
With a sudden, sinking feeling, DeMarco realised he'd forgotten to buy her the drink he'd promised. Rummaging in his pockets, he handed over a few coins to cover the cost. It wasn't the same. "Sorry, I, uh... I forgot you were coming," He admitted, red tinting his cheeks in shame.
"No worries - I noticed you were far too busy losing at darts," Susie teased, shoving the money into her pocket.
"Hey, now, I wouldn't call it losing," Shaking his head, he moved closer to where she stood at the bar, stepping out of the way of the crowds.
"Really? Failing, then?"
DeMarco batted a hand in dismissal, a smile curling his lips. "Oh, well, if you're so good at darts-"
"I am actually," Susie shrugged.
"Of course you are. You're gonna say you Brits are all good at playing darts - just like you're all good at making tea and... I dunno, sheep herding?"
She let out a laugh, teeth peeking through her grin. He liked her smile. There was a rosy pink in her cheeks, and he couldn't tell if it was the warmth of the pub or the alcohol or something else, but it suited her.
Susie nodded as she took another sip of her drink. "Aw, you got me. You've found my secret hobby - I do love to herd sheep. Yes."
Benny smiled warmly, leaning one elbow up against the bar as he watched her. A curl had slipped loose from behind her ear, and in the warm light of the room, it shone a flaming red. From across the room, a few of the ATS women let out a cheer, the orange-haired woman he'd met at the supply depot grinning as she passed her pool cue to the next woman. He cleared his throat. "Oh, by the way, could I talk to, uh - Charlotte? Is it?"
Her smile vanished. A wave of panic filled him. Susie began to nod bitterly, gnawing at the inside of her lip. There was a look in her eye, like she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it finally had.
"Are you kidding me? ...Yeah. Yunno what? Fuck you, DeMarco."
“What? I don’t-”
“No, no. I get it. You thought being nice to me would get you an in with the pretty ATS girls - you’re not the first one who’s tried it,” Tilting her head, she upturned the rest of her beer, swallowing it in a single gulp. “Charlotte’s engaged, by the way. I’m sure you can try your luck somewhere else.”
"Susie, I didn't-"
"Hey Benny!" Egan's voice rang out from over by the dartboard. "C'mon, it's your turn!"
"Yeah, Benny, it's your turn," Susie repeated, her words laced with venom, practically spitting his own name back at him. "Although, two losses in one night might be a bit rough, eh?"
His mouth gaped open and shut for a moment like a dying fish, and before he could find a word to say she had scoffed, rolling her eyes as she pushed away from the bar, diving into the crowd as she fought to put distance between them. Meatball had almost tried to follow her before the wall of people separated them, and he let out a defeated whimper, returning to his owner, tail between his legs.
Charlotte was about to bend over to take her next shot when she felt a hand pressed against her shoulder. Turning her head, she saw Susie, cheeks flushed, a frown furrowing her brow. "Can I bum a cig? I'm heading off," She whispered.
"Yeah, sure," The subaltern nodded, holding out the crumpled box she carried with her. "You ok?"
"All good. Thanks," She nodded, propping a cigarette between her lips as she made for the door. The night air hit her face with such chilling force that it almost hurt, a cloud forming as she sighed, plucking a lighter from her pocket, the cigarette embers releasing a comforting heat.
The walk back to barracks was a long one, a seemingly endless row of identical Nissen huts stretching out before her by the time Susie reached the airfield, exhaling one puff of smoke after another. There was always too much stewing in her mind - a solid wall of white noise, her thoughts stirring together like ingredients to the most repugnant soup ever concocted. It was difficult to even pluck out a single emotion amongst all that hubbub.
I hate you DeMarco, but I like your dog, but you're just like everyone else, except if you're not, except if I was wrong.
The lights in her hut turned on with a click, the room filling itself with a yellow glow, the faint hum of lightbulbs audible in the silence. Everyone else was out - dress uniforms taken off their hangers, the smell of freshly applied perfume still lingering in the air. Susie had stomped her cigarette out on the damp grass outside, the smell of smoke permeating her clothes. She raised her hands to cover her face, agonised groan muffled by the sweaty skin of her palms as she collapsed backwards onto her bed, the springs creaking noisily.
Staring at the ceiling didn't solve anything - not the anger in her chest, nor the lingering feeling in her gut that she'd gotten something badly wrong. Letting her head loll to the side, Susie stared at the picture frame propped up on her nightstand, the photo's corners battered and bent beneath the layer of glass that encased it. Her mother, rounded and warm, a tiny, swaddled baby in her arms. Her father, sturdy and dependable, holding a spindly, blond-headed toddler against his hip. And a row of six little children, flashing the same gap-toothed smiles, all dressed in their nicest clothes, which never quite seemed to fit properly.
She could see her own face - a tiny, chubby, three-year-old face that wasn't really her own anymore, curls erupting like a lion's mane around her head. They were all squinting in the sun, lined up outside the only house she'd ever called her own. She could feel their eyes on her - her own most of all. Reaching out, Susie caught the top of the frame with her finger, flipping it over, out of sight, as if covering their faces would somehow make her feel less judged.
"Oh, piss off, you lot."
#masters of the air#bernard demarco#masters of the air oc#masters of the air fic#mota oc#bernard demarco x oc#oc: susie#fic | better off
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(whispers) hey friends I appreciate your excitement but gentle reminder it’s not very polite to ask fanfic writers when the next chapter is gunna come out
#remember friends: fanfic writers do this for fun when they have enough down time and wanna write#I’m an adult with a lot of adult responsibilities going on!!#again I appreciate your enthusiasm but ur just gunna have to trust me#ESPECIALLY since I sort of have a posting schedule#gentle reminder that fic writers shouldn’t need a schedule ever#I just have one because it keeps me on my toes#and that’s just a personal preference#but even then it’s just sort of a rough guideline— sometimes life stuff happens!!#and remember!!! a chapter that takes time will always be better than a rushed one#sorry to pop off but ya girl has had. A Week.#I’m not mad just a little tired#probably gunna delete tomorrow#but for now g’d night#pastel prattling
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Punk rocker in training.
#mic drops Eri off at school and such in his car because he thinks that it'll make the other kids respect her#little does he know#6 year olds dont care about his vintage ride#does eri go to a normal school no probably not#im not caught up on eri lore#Eri either gets taken places by a man who stinks of cats#a guy dressed head to toe in leather and spikes#or the symbol of peace himself#wish i was her#bnha#mha eri#hizashi yamada#present mic#yamadad#if you havent read my loudspeaker fic yet youre missing out#accidentally made it better than my actual proper book
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Mistaken - DC x DP
Idk man- this one fully just came to me. So have fun. Cry.
~~~~~~
Another rogue attack.
Bats coming to save the day.
It was a never-ending dance between the two.
Casualties were often low. People got hurt but fewer and fewer people died. Even major injuries had lessened over the years. It wasn't the focus of the villains to necessarily kill people, it was simply a byproduct of their goal.
So why was it different?
Why now?
Sure, Gotham's rogues weren't afraid to kill to gain attention, but this was different. The attack came from nowhere, no sign of it before it had already begun, and when Batman arrived...there was no villain there. Just the destruction in its wake.
He'd been quick to call the others for help searching for injured, and no doubt dead from the destruction, before getting to pulling people from rubble and fires. His kids arrived and did the same until another call came from Oracle. The fire department and ambulances had arrived, so they left it to them.
It had already been nearing the day, so when they finished dealing with some goons, the family had turned in for the night. Yet Bruce couldn't stop thinking about the explosion. The camera's from the building, he'd learned it was a lab of some sort, were far and few, really only showing the entrance. Even then they cut out before the explosion.
The news was talking of it, the owner of the lab was on it by now claiming it was an accident with some chemicals and they were investigating possible causes. He knew it was a lie, and from his children's faces when they heard it, they thought the same.
It didn't take him long to head there, not as Batman, but as Bruce Wayne.
He had planned to speak to the owner of the Lab, he really only remembered he wore a pristine white suit. Parking nearby, and offering help to those he saw as he passed, Bruce slowly made his way toward the main part of the crowd.
A quiet sob and cough made him freeze in his tracks. It was so quiet he doubted anyone would have noticed if they weren't trained. Glancing around, he slipped into the alleyway he'd heard the noise from. It was close to he accident, but far enough away no one would look down it...so why was someone here?
Bruce cautiously looked through the alley, his gaze hardening as he found a smaller figure curled up on itself, trying to hide behind a dumpster.
"Hello?"
The kid, because it really could only be a kid, flinched eyes darting toward him.
And Bruce froze.
Green eyes were staring back at him. Glowing, Lazarus, green eyes. Yet, his eyes were quick to drift from the color to the blood soaking the boy's clothes. Gritting his teeth, he crouched, holding up his hands. He couldn't see the boy well with this distance, but he couldn't risk not finding a way to help the kid.
"I'm not gonna hurt you...I promise."
The glow fluctuated for a moment before the other tried to move, wincing harshly as his arm gave out and sent him careening into the floor. Bruce had moved forward when he fell, worry clear on his face, and when the boy growled, only for it to fade into a whimper, he paused again.
"Let me help you. I can get you to a hosp-"
Panic filled the other's eyes, scrambling further away. "No! No, hospital. No, no, no no nononono-" Bruce kept his face from changing at the boy's voice. It was hoarse as if he hadn't used it or had been screaming.
Putting his hands up placatingly, he carefully shifted on his feet. "Okay. No hospital. But you need help...can I help you?" The boy seemed to be looking for something in his face, maybe a lie, but after a few moments, the kid's head bobbed before he collapsed onto the ground completely.
Taking the moment, Bruce moved beside him, careful not to touch him as he pulled out his phone, messaging Dick and Leslie. She would need to prep for some stitches no doubt from the blood, and he definitely couldn't get the boy elsewhere without some help. As he finished sending the messages, he felt a hand grab onto him weakly. Looking down at the boy, his heart absolutely sunk.
He could see him now. How his black hair fell over his eyes. Blue eyes. The green was temporary, probably powers, but now with those blue eyes, he looked like one of his many children. More specifically...a younger Jason. His heart clenched, gently taking the boy's hand despite himself.
This wasn't Jason...it wasn't.
It was clear the boy had started to grow delirious, his eyes unfocused for the most part, but staring so intently at him.
"...dad...?"
Oh.
Bruce could hear the harsh swallow he did, but smiled softly at the boy. Carefully sitting, he dragged the boy onto his lap, gently moving his hair. "You're gonna be alright..." It wasn't Jason, and he knew that...but that didn't mean he couldn't comfort the boy. If he happened to look like his father...Bruce wasn't going to try and correct him when he was so delirious, not when it may give him some kind of comfort.
He couldn't help the pain in his heart though as the kid practically melted into the touch, unfurling slightly and revealing some of his injuries. It wasn't his kid. It wasn't.
Maybe he could have comforted any of them like this if he'd listened in the past.
Shaking his head, he pushed down the feelings. He couldn't focus on that, not right now. Looking back at his phone, he saw a message, saying Dick was almost there. Part of him hoped he was alone...he knew that probably wasn't the case.
"I'm scared..."
Gazing back toward the kid, he put the phone back in his pocket. Putting his hand on the boy's cheek, he gently rubbed away some tears that had begun to fall. Before he could respond the boy's eyes drooped the little consciousness he had fading. "Hey, come on, try to stay awake." It was no use as the boy drifted off, only the too-slow rising and falling of his chest assuring Bruce he wasn't fully gone.
"Kid, come on you can't sleep yet-"
Two pairs of footsteps came from the entrance of the alley as Bruce tried to wake the boy, glancing back to see his oldest boys. What was slight, but worried, amusement turned to horror the closer they got, seeing the pool of blood. "Leslie is waiting." Without needing to say anything else, Dick was quick to carefully scoop the kid up, looking back to Jason. He seemed shell-shocked, staring at the boy. Bruce couldn't blame him.
They looked so similar.
~|0|~
Danny had...what had he been doing? He remembered the GIW, and lab equipment-
Oh.
The lab.
He had gotten out...but someone had seen him. Where was he now? Fighting to open his eyes, he saw the ceiling of a car. He could also see two older guys. He was in the back seat with his head...on someone's lap? Or was it a ghost? They felt like a ghost...but not.
Frowning, his eyes slowly drifted shut again. He'd thought he'd seen his dad...but, the man had been too kind. His- Jack was...he wouldn't have ever comforted him like that. Not now. Not in the past. Feeling himself drift off again, he felt small tears fall down his cheeks.
Why had his dad never comforted him like this stranger had? Why had he hurt him? Given him to the GIW after he'd told them what he was? If they truly hadn't believed him...if they had thought he was mimicking "their beloved son" then why not do everything they always said they would.
More tears fell, but he felt someone wipe them away again. It was a different hand...it was still rough, but gentler than the other had been. With a stuttered breath, Danny let the darkness take over his mind again. He probably wouldn't have let himself fall asleep again...but he would rather these people who reminded him of his family have him. Hurt him or not...he just didn't want to be alone.
A hum was the last thing he felt, a warmth he couldn't remember having in a long long time rumbling beneath his skin.
~|0|~
Jason had felt something when he'd seen the kid. The pits went quiet before pure worry erupted from them. He didn't know why...but it didn't help that this kid look like him. Looked like that little kid who'd never gotten help.
It didn't help that deep down Jason knew that this kid hadn't either.
He'd ended up carefully cradling his head in the back seats while Dick drove and Bruce messaged who he could only assume was Leslie or the family group chat. Either way, when he felt something wet land on his hand, he hadn't expected the kid to be crying.
Gently wiping the tears, he felt the frown on his face grow. "He's crying." He heard Bruce shifting, probably looking at the two, yet he ignored the other, just wiping the small tears. As he did, a warbling cry made him jump slightly. Glancing toward the other two, he saw the shock on both their faces.
"Well, he's definitely some kind of meta."
Bruce hummed, but Jason simply looked down again. The pit was silent for a moment, the non-stop worry having paused at the noise. So when a rumbling almost purr-like hum came from himself, he almost froze. Almost. His shock had been overrun by how the kid seemed to relax, one of his hands gently grabbing onto him.
"That...that was new."
He didn't need to look to know the two were even more shocked, if not worried. Jason couldn't bring himself to care for once, wiping the last of the falling tears before running his fingers through the fluffy and bloody locks of their mysterious meta-kid.
He wasn't a meta...he knew that deep down as well.
It didn't take long after for them to get to Leslie's clinic, taking the boy inside in a rush. He was quickly moved onto a stretcher and taken into one of the more medically equipped rooms. The three weren't far behind, entering the room as Leslie worked on removing the bloodied clothes, mainly his shirt.
A large y-shaped and inflamed gash met all of their eyes. It wasn't the cause of the bleeding, but it clearly had been done not too long before the large gash next to it. They weren't the only injuries he had, and he'd had plenty if the scars were to say anything. The most concerning was a Lichtenberg scar that stretched from his hand across his entire chest.
None of them had been ready for it. Dick covered his mouth as Jason audibly took a deep breath. Bruce was silent, but from the stare, they knew he was just as horrified.
Leslie was equally as horrified to find a child in the condition he was in, but gritted her teeth and got to work. It took a long time, but the boy didn't stir. She and the others had checked his vitals multiple times just to make sure he was still fine. He was...if the low heartbeat and temperature were normal. The temperature probably was to an extent at least, they'd figured that out after a frost had covered the bed he was on.
Finally, his injuries were stitched, but as Leslie left to get everything he would need the boy bolted upright.
His breathing was heavy, flinging himself out of the bed and into a corner. Jason reacted the fastest, getting over to him and enveloping him in a hug. It was definitely not the right thing you're supposed to do, but he'd done it before he'd even thought about it.
And when the boy's arms tightly wrapped around him, a loud echoey sob being muffled against his jacket he knew it had been the right instinct.
Neither let go nor did they move.
Dick came over, carefully sitting beside them and hugging them both, taking a moment to wipe a tear that had fallen from Jason's face...when had that happened?
With a quiet click of a door opening and closing, Jason buried his head into the younger black-haired boy's head. Leslie wouldn't have had silent footsteps. Bruce had left the room. He didn't know whether he was thankful or not for that. From the brief information, he'd told them, the kid thought Bruce was his dad.
"...I'm sorry..."
Shaking his head slightly, not bothering to lift it, Jason rubbed the other's back.
"Nothin' to be sorry for. You're alive."
Another rumble noise escaped him, but he couldn't bring himself to worry and wonder about it yet again as the kid clung tighter, a similar yet much sadder noise coming from him.
Both could feel the short breath of a small laugh from Dick, who still held them both.
"You both sound like birds, your nicknames pretty fitting now, Jaybird."
A laugh came from the boy, slightly startling the older two. But, it was a welcome sound, the rest of the tense air finally fading.
After a bit of silence, the kid spoke again.
"I think I called your dad my dad."
Jason couldn't help the smirk that grew on his face.
"Just sounds like you're the next sibling to be adopted."
"New baby bird!"
Danny was both incredibly confused and...pleasantly surprised by their words. He knew for a fact they'd seen his powers at some point. But then again, the one he was clinging to, Jaybird if the guy's nickname was to be used, wasn't entirely alive either.
"Honestly I should apologize for thinking he was my dad...he's probably worse."
Jason snorted out a laugh. He probably shouldn't, but damn if the kid with the scars all across his body said it, he was probably right. Dick made the noise he does whenever Jay makes a joke about his death, only causing the kid to look over.
"What, it's a very grave mistake."
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dc#dc comics#danny phantom#danny fenton#bruce wayne#batman#dick grayson#jason todd#batfam#batfamily#fic#ficlet#fanfic#fanfiction#I meant to make the end angstier#but I got dragged off to have dinner for my sister's birthday and completely forgot what it was#so you get off with some lighter jokes though heavily implied trauma that needs to be dealt with but probably won't#Bruce was really trying his best here but he is still only just getting better with talking#and Dick doesn't know whether to be alarmed happy or cry at the puns#they're puns! but they're death puns D:#Jason knows this kid is kinda dead like him though still different#he just don't wanna admit it
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The party at the Prom
But soberness turns out to be the friends we made along the way
I literally just got possessed and woke up with my this piece finished two weeks later
Mind you as much as deranged teenager I am, for everything to be ✨legal✨ you could tell this is my self-indulgent polish Byler au. Because I was inspired to draw this after my school’s prom and I know NOTHING about American proms lmao. Anyway here’s some more context:
And yeah Will is totally the person to run the fuck away randomly and Elmax would probably be on the side quest. Somewhere outside of the state. Most likely.
#will byers#mike wheeler#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#stranger things#byler#< target audience#I mean LOOK AT THE TIES I THINK THIS IS OBVIOUS#byler PRL au#ig??#byler prom#I need prom fics you can recommend me some#also it’s my first time drawing Dustin and Lucas so if you have some criticism about my way of drawing them I will take it and do better#promise 🙏#I don’t know what to add here tbh I’m just#I’m egxausted#this is the most self-indulgent thing I’ve done in a while#IF MY ENGLISH IS OFF PLEASE IGNORE IT
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