#he’d also go back and kill whoever later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deadsetobsessions · 3 months

Text

He doesn’t know how they got here, but Jason’s thankful for it. It’s not often that he speaks to Cass, when Jason’s passions are words and righteous murder and Cass’s passions are distinctly not that, but when they do speak, they manage to get along. Somehow.

“So, why don’t you kill?” Jason leans back on the couch, his favorite mug filled with Alfred’s hot chocolate.

Cass is curled against the arm of the sofa. She looks at him, head tilted. Jason knows she’s reading him, but he’s not sure what she’s finding. It’s humbling, and intimidating, to know she sees more than what he allows to show.

“I can see,” she says. “That one time… I killed. I saw. Pain. Fear. Desp- des- not wanting to die.”

“Desperation?”

Cass nods. One of her fingers fiddle with the material of the couch. Jason knows she’s allowing him to see the motion. He knows it’s her silent way of showing him trust.

“There is more. To dying. Like… like they see their lives-They think- remembers. Loves. Their life- regret, love, everything. It goes through-” Cass taps her temple.

“Their lives are flashing through their heads?”

“Yes. Good. Bad. Everything. I see.” Quieter, Cass adds “I know. I know them, then. I killed a life that I know. They love. Everyone, have something they love. I kill, I kill that love.”

“That must suck.”

Cass leans back. She nods, neck releasing their tension and eyes less hunted, more accepting.

“Yes. I don’t want to- I don’t want to be the end.” Cass swivels her shoulders towards him, now. “Why… why do you?”

“Me?” Jason… hasn’t thought about it for a while, nor too deeply. But this is Cass. And her honesty deserves an honest reply. “I kill because some people shouldn’t be left alive to hurt and kill others”

“Not about… Bruce?”

Jason took a sip of his hot chocolate. Cass settled more into the couch, her eyes clear and watchful.

“It used to be,” he admitted. “About him, I mean. It used to be about vengeance. But then I came back to Crime Alley, and then I saw the kids getting hurt instead of being protected. They’re innocent. And then, it wasn’t about Bruce anymore. Killing is just the means to an end now, for me.”

“Do you- not regret?” She makes a gesture at his leg, where on a normal day, his holsters would be.

“I try to make sure I don’t kill people I’d regret, no. Like, you know how sometimes you guys arrest muggers?”

Cass nodded.

“Sometimes,” Jason said, remembering the days of digging through trash for food and the lingering hunger that rumbled through his younger self’s stomach. “They mug people because they’re desperate. I don’t kill those guys. But people deal to kids? Who hurt sex workers? Rapists? They’re doing irreparable harm, with full knowledge of their actions. For profit, mostly. If they’re willing to ruin lives, then they should be ready for their own to be ruined. It’s justice, for people like me.”

Cass studied him. “Justice…?”

“The only kind us Alley kids could ever appreciate. Arresting an abuser, a threat, and having that stick is for the privileged. Having that threat removed completely is relieving.”

“Can’t trust the world to be fair. But death, is fair.”

“Yeah. I think if I saw as much as you do, it’d be harder to do. But I think I’d still kill, because one person’s suffering after a life of being evil is worth the safety of so many others. To know… well, I guess I’m glad I don’t know what that’s like.”

“I see.”

“I know you do,” Jason grins at her. “But not killing is an act of courage too. Even if B makes it seem like it should come instinctually.”

“Yes. He does not connect, with Damian. Does not understand, fully, how hard. To unlearn.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while after that, listening to the sounds of their family clambering around in other rooms.

“Hey, Cass?”

Cass turned back to him.

“I would kill David Cain for you.”

He would. It makes the Pit seethe when he thinks about how much David Cain and Lady Shiva hurt Cass for her to get this insanely good at reading people. He hopes she sees the pure honesty and sincerity he feels at that declaration

Cass puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. Twice.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No objections?”

“… would not feel too bad.”

Jason snorted.

“Yeah. You and me both.”

He doesn’t know how they got here, but he’s thankful for it anyways, because he understands his sister just that much more now.

#cassandra cain #black bat #Jason Todd #red hood #they have different philosophies #but theyre family your honor #cass would stop jay from murdering people if she sees him #he’d let her bc he’s not gonna win that fight #he’d also go back and kill whoever later #David Cain #being a horrible parent I hate this guy #dc #Cassandra Cain seeing someone’s emotions as they die #she doesn’t want to be a weapon #Batman

342 notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

Text

Geto's little sister finding out her husband got sealed by her big brother and going nuts

Pairing: Geto's little sister x husband!Gojo

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: You thought you lost him forever, your big brother. Until Shibuya brings you back to reality, until your beloved husband gets sealed by none other than your dead big brother. Until you show your enemy what you're made off...

Warnings: this is a emotional rollercoaster, (y/n) is a bad bitch but damn that just hurts, drama over drama, cursing over cursing, I worked so hard to get this fic out tonight so please show some love 😭not proofread yet, will do that tomorrow!

„I’ll leave now.“

You look up from your magazine, furrowing your eyebrows at your oh so precious husband.

“Weren’t you suppose to leave…Like two hours ago?”, you question innocently.

“I wasn’t done in the bathroom.”

“You’re so vain that it hurts.”

“Watch your mouth, Geto”, he warns you by your former last name.

With a swift motion he lands on top of you, large figure almost swallowing you whole while you grin at him triumphally. Were you just teasing Satoru for him to grab you by the throat ever so slightly, for him to stare at you with his dirty blue eyes?

Definitely.

“Or what, Gojo?”, you bite back, emphasizing every syllable of his last name with so much provocation that it takes all his strength to stop himself from fucking you until you can’t stand anymore.

He never imagined you to lay under him this way. You, the sister of his best friend. You, who always seemed so threatful unbothered by him. Just before Suguru decided to leave all of you behind, just before he massacred both of your parents, you decided to give him a chance. And you didn’t even change your mind when he was forced to kill your big brother.

“You want me to stay here and leave our students out there alone?”, he hushes against your lips.

Because if you would, he’d definitely stay here all night.

“You know I’m always up for you, but not tonight. They actually called me as well when you were busy doing your pretty hair in the bathroom. Something serious is going on there. I’ll join as soon as I’m ready here.”

Since your brother decided to kill everyone apart from jujutsu sorcerers, you were always keen to do the exact opposite by saving as many people as possible. As much as you love him still, as much as you do in fact somehow understand him, he went down a path you couldn’t follow. He was like your older twin. Not only by looks, but also your cursed techniques were the same, made you a powerful weapon against these fucking curses.

Well, now you’re your own weapon as it seems. Your eyes stare up at your now husband who still looks at you with the same affection in his eyes like more than 10 years ago.

No, you aren’t alone. After all, you’ll always have Satoru by your side.

“Get your pretty ass moving then. We’ve got some work to do.”

-later in Shibuya-

You desperately try to ignore the way your guts turn, yanking down the busted streets as if you’re haunted.

He’s sealed.

Satoru Gojo, your newly husband, the one and only who stuck to you all these damn years, the love of your fucking life.

Sealed, gone in the wind, trapped in a tiny box.

But as if that wasn’t enough, rumours reached your ear. Rumours about none other than your big brother being responsible for this. Your big, dead brother.

Your feet clash against the hard ground underneath, body sprinting towards what looks like a new battlefield. Whoever this fucker is will pay for what he’s done. Not only to your husband, but to your brother as well.

And what about your students? You didn’t arrive on time, not a single update reached your ear when you entered the curtain, eyes wide open in disbelief by all the death surrounding you. If that thing hurt a single one of them, if a single jujutsu sorcerer lost their life here…

You’ll lose it completely.

The second a wave of what looks like ice begins to dart towards the recognizable outlines of people you waste no time, shooting a bunch of grade one curses their way while using one as a curtain to hold back the ice.

“(y/n)…Is…Is that you?”

Yuji. A few other students from Kyoto, Utahime, Panda, Kusakabe. They’re injured, but alive. What about the rest? Where are Mei Mei, Toge, Nanami and that old Zenin fart? You give yourself a little shake, eyes focused on your curse and the wave of ice in front of you. Now is not the right time to think about all of that. Your priority is to finally catch that fucker who uses your brother’s appearance and saving who’s here at the moment.

And the most important, get your sealed husband back.

“You have some fucking nerve, showing up and making such a mess. And now you’re even dumb enough to attack other jujutsu sorcerers. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?”

Your heart is almost beating out of your chest, eyes focused in front of you. Maybe that person just looks like him, Suguru. You found peace with the fact that he’s gone a long time ago, it’s simply not possible to see his gentle eyes ever again. You accepted the fact that he won’t trade his pokemon cards with you, that the time of getting on his nerves while secretly loving him dearly is over. No one can copy him, no one can-

“You are pretty late, (y/n).”

No one can sound like him. You shake your head in utter disbelief, mind desperately trying to process the fact that this sounded exactly like Suguru Geto, that the frame behind the falling curtain of ice and purple is…

Him.

You can’t move an inch. Instead, you just stand there in silence, staring him up and down. This looks just like him, this sounds like him. Fuck, this even smells like him, radiates the same energy as him.

But no.

The way he said your name wasn’t the same. It missed the soft tone in his voice, how it always lightened up by his small smile when seeing you.

“And you’re in big trouble.”

Is it an hallucination, some type of strange technique? No, it has to be his body, it is his body. Somebody else seems to control it.

And that someone will pay for using him, for tarnishing his memory.

“Is my own little sister not able to recognize me? I guess that’s not as bad as getting betrayed by her, though.”

“Spare me with that bullshit. It seems like you really know nothing about me and my big brother. What do you want me to do, huh? Break down in tears and cry, believe that you’re actually him? I will wipe your ass from this earth without even blinking. But before that, I want my husband back”, you his through gritted teeth.

“What betrayed me, little (y/n)? How did you know it wasn’t him?”

His figure comes closer, makes you urge to touch him just once. This is still his body, a body that reminds you of all the things you’ve been through. The serious business of trading pokemon cards that you did until he left, your shared training sessions, him introducing you to Satoru, him holding you in his arms when you’ve got your first heartbreak only for him to hold you back when you tried to set that poor boy on fire. This body still holds all of those memories.

But it doesn’t hold him anymore.

Your husband lives, though. He might be sealed, but he’s still somewhere. And that fucker has him, you just know it.

You shake them off, those feelings of melancholy. Time to focus on reality. And reality is that Satoru killed your big brother a year ago, that this thing in front of you has nothing in common with him except his appearance.

“No one will ever by as charming as he was. Now, will you give me my husband back without a fight and let me kill you? I’m not in the mood for a talk with you, y’know.”

It’s impossible and you know it. There is no way in hell this thing will give up its plan and just hand Satoru over. But at least this will buy you some time.

“You should know best that you don’t stand a chance against his body, don’t you think?”

A disregarding huff escapes your lips while you straighten your shoulders and stare right into the eyes of the big brother you’ve lost a year ago. God knows you really tried to stay cool, that you were desperate to keep your composure. But the second it grins at you with his charming face, it’s over and out.

“You should know that I wasn’t only better at pokemon trading, moron.”

“Stand behind me, I’ve got this.”

“But (y/n)-“

You don’t waste another minute. With a blast of another wave of different curses, you hit him with full force. Over the last few years, you absorbed every curse you stumbled upon. Especially the night parade was the perfect opportunity for you to steal your big brother’s precious curses. And even though you swore you yourself that you’ll never lose them, that they will remain in loving memory by your side, this seems like the perfect time to release them.

For a brief moment, you feel like crying, the way it just laughs at you with his voice, wearing his yukata, even wearing his hairstyle. How did it even come so far? How did this thing end up in your big brother’s body?

He would have wanted this, right? That you destroy his body in order to stop this madness. Despite all the horrible things he’s done, Suguru would have never wanted jujutsu sorcerers to get hurt, especially not Satoru. No, he would have never allowed your husband to get sealed, he wouldn’t let anyone attack you this roughly.

Your husband…How is he doing? Is he still alive? You feel like throwing up, just the minor thought of him potentially dying in this seal…No one was ever able to get out, some of the strongest sorcerers ended up in that cube.

No.

This needs to stop.

“Get yourself together”, you hiss to yourself, shaking off your stinging thoughts immediately.

This is not the time for sadness or grief.

This is the time for pure rage.

“I will make you pay for every sin you committed with his body”, you shout towards him while attacking him from underneath.

This thing is so fucking fast, using Suguru’s powers so efficiently that you’re almost not able to follow its movements.

You clench your hands into fists, eyes narrowed while thick fury pumps through your veins. Get yourself together, this isn’t only about taking revenge.

This is about getting your husband back.

“What would he think about you, seeing you this way? I know how disappointed he was when you left him to die, leaving him for his former best friend. And I thought I am cruel”, it spits at you, shooting another wave of curses your way.

“You know absolutely nothing about him, let alone me. You’re nothing but a parasite in his body, a bug I’ll crush underneath my heel.”

You draw yourself closer, keeping him busy in hand to hand combat. You were always better than Suguru when it came to fighting without any curses around. Where the hell does he keep that damned cube?

“You and me, we’re both parasites, (y/n). But unlike you, I can still look into the mirror without being disgusted of the way I turned out.”

“That’s because you’re looking into his gorgeous face, idiot”, you bite back, landing a full-on hit against his ribcage.

“Is that Satoru Gojo’s wife?”, Noritoshi Kamo mutters in sheer disbelief, eyes not even able to follow your rapid movements.

“Yep, the one and only”, Panda confirms dryly.

“Take a few steps back. She’ll definitely freak out-“

“RUN!”, Yuji cries on top of his lungs.

Countless courses roam around you and your big brothers’ corpse, fighting each other for dear life. He can’t help but admire you, the spark that gleams in your eyes, the way you don’t even try to hold back despite the stinging fact that you’re fighting against your brothers’ body. You look so threatful that it almost takes his breath away.

If it wasn’t for the last weapon he has in store.

“You’re not giving it everything, you’re holding back!”, he screams over the deafening noise around you both, making your veins stand out even more.

You see nothing but red, nothing but the shell of the brother you used to love, nothing but a monster that trapped your husband. That thing…That fucking thing straight out of hell.

“Uzumaki.”

The word leaves your mouths at the same time. Like in trance you stand there, watch as a giant wave of condensed cursed energy builds up behind Suguru’s frame, watch as it shoots towards you like an arrow.

You aren’t a fool, fully aware of the fact that you might get killed right here on the spot. This is your only chance to win this fight, to leave your brother’s body where it belongs, to free your husband out of that things’ grasp. But…are you strong enough?

“I can’t believe you’re already stronger than me. Look at you, (y/n).”

You kneeled down in front of him, took his hand into yours gently while desperately trying to supress a sob. This was it, the time you had to say your final goodbye to your best friend.

“Well, I just stole a whole bunch of your curses at that parade. They did taste like shit though.”

His kind smile radiated through the dark alley, right through your heavy heart. This…this couldn’t be the end. You weren’t even able to spend one last evening with him, to show him the pokemon cards you stole some kid.

“I don’t want you to go”, you finally gave in.

Faster than he was able to react, you wrapped your desperate arms around him, rested your head against his bloody chest. This couldn’t be the end, Suguru couldn’t leave you like that.

“I fear I have to, (y/n). You still got Satoru-“

“Satoru is not you”, you interrupted him immediately.

“Satoru is not my big brother. Satoru will never be you.”

“I’m so proud of the person you have become, (y/n). You are far more than a normal jujutsu sorcerer, way better than all those monkeys. You are my special, my everything. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. You’ll always stay (y/n) Geto to me. And I’ll be with you the whole way.”

Your eyes widen. Suguru, he firmly believed in you, never even second-guessed your abilities.

“You…just beat me.”

Your heavy breath hung in the air between both of you, body collapsing onto the ground from sheer exhaustion. What did Satoru just say? What did even happen the last few seconds?

“Babe, you…You were actually able to beat me.”

You…beat none other than Satoru Gojo?

“Impossible”, you murmured to yourself, staring at your bloody hands in sheer disbelief.

“You became so damn strong. My god, I’m so proud of you, (y/n)! You just have to work your ass off even more. Come on, get up, attack me again.”

And Satoru, the love of your life, your precious husband, the strongest…You were able to beat him.

You take a deep breath in, whole body being on fire. This is your moment. And you won’t let a cheap copy of your brother defeat you like that.

Like in trance, you dash forward along with your thick cursed energy, hands stretched out for him. One last look into his chocolate brown eyes, one last glance at his usually so soft features before you hit him with your fest shoot, a toe-curling scream of agony and rage escaping your lips while slamming him into the ground. Deeper and deeper, harder and harder. Back to where he belongs: six feet under.

“Give me my husband back”, you spit at him, grabbing his throat so harshly that you can feel his windpipe struggle against your palm.

Instead of replying, he just plainly laughs at you, bloodshot eyes almost piercing through you. That’s enough.

“Is this how you let it end, Suguru? Are you really letting this moron take control over your body like that! Come on, defend yourself, give Satoru back to me!”, you cry on top of your lungs, staring into the brown orbs you used to know so well.

“Pathetic. I am the one who’s in control of this body now, stupid girl!”

“I still have the shiny flareon you gifted me when I was 6, I’m always carrying it with me. I’m still sleeping in the shirt I stole from you when you were 16. You’ve done many things wrong in your way too short life, please do this one last thing right! Please give Satoru back to me.”

Your heart almost stops when his trembling arms yanks into the air, uncontrollably roaming around his Yukata.

Until he stretches it right in front of your face. The prison realm. Your husband.

“This…this can’t be possible! I am the one who is in control over this body!”

Your body goes numb, widen eyes staring at his arm while your heart skips a beat. This is really him, your Suguru. He really is strong enough to even outstand death.

His fingertips brush over your cheek ever so gently. Fuck, you feel like breaking down and crying. This right in front of you is your big brother, the person you thought you lost a year ago, the man who slipped through your fingers when he was 16 without you even noticing. You weren’t there for him the way you should have been, weren’t able to drag him back onto your side, weren’t able to save him from his unnecessary death.

“I’m sorry, Suguru. I will always love you with all my heart.”

But you know you have to go.

Now.

With one last glimpse you yank yourself into the air, hand holding onto that little cube for dear life.

Focus on the mission.

“We need to go, now”, you yell towards your students, sending a curse in the form of a dragon their way.

You straighten your shoulders, chase away the memories that threaten to destroy you completely.

“Hey hot thing, long time no see. Guess you were just as surprised as me when you saw him again, huh?”, you mutter towards the cube in your hands that has its bright blue eyes set on you.

“I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I’ll get you out of there, Satoru. After all, we’re the strongest…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @tachiharazsstuff @kawaiiakamaru @lilacsinjuly @nazeeraswife @eva-616 @revrse @thel0v3hashira143 @arehzhera @circe143 @mitsuristoleme @sugaremedy @sugurulefttesticle @sweetchildcloud @invmakitoge @a-daydreamers-day @rhinara-vy

433 notes · View notes

itsabouttimex2 · 6 months

Note

I urgently need a platonic Yandere Keigo who finds the reader insanely hungry and crying and his only instinct is to feed the reader like a newborn baby bird

Natural Instinct

Almost every Quirk has a drawback of some kind. A person might have a Quirk that’s too strong for their body to bear, or one that can’t be precisely controlled and does more damage than intended. Some are outright entirely uncontrollable, incapable of being shut off. Sometimes those drawbacks are emotional. It’s not unheard of for a Quirk to be tied to the emotions of whoever bears it. Sometimes, they grow stronger with rage or weaker with sorrow. And for others, that drawback is mental.

Keigo Takami knows that his Quirk has afforded him a lot in life. He has so many different uses for his feathers that it can be dizzying to watch him in action. People would kill and die to have a Quirk so powerful and versatile. He himself wouldn’t trade it for the world.

But that doesn’t mean there aren’t drawbacks. They’re a massive target, to start with. Every enemy he’s faced with half a brain goes after them first, more than a few managing to leave some serious damage. Sure, he can grow more later on, but losing them hurts.

It isn’t the only downside, though.

The bright red wings he bears have to be dispersed for stealth. It takes a lot of concentration to properly wield his Quirk to his full potential. All of his clothes have to be custom-tailored. And sometimes, just sometimes… he gets these strange thoughts.

People with animalistic Quirks often report strange instincts and unusual desires related to their Quirks. To hunt, maybe. Or to hide away in dark spaces.

Keigo knows the feeling. When he was younger, he used to preen his wings with his own mouth, delicately cleaning his feathers with his teeth and tongue. He’s long grown out of that habit, but the urge still persists. He’s also particularly drawn to shiny objects and has a tiny, tucked away desire to collect them. He satiates that urge with sensible things like bracelets and watches.

But what he’s feeling right now isn’t as easy to suppress.

There you sit, all curled up on yourself in the corner, tears dribbling from your eyes. Your arms are wrapped tight around your growling stomach, head buried against your knees.

And his brain tells him that there’s only one solution capable of solving this problem.

Feed you himself.

Of course, he’s not going to feed you like a bird. Even when his Quirk is working against him like this, pitting his brain against his heart, he stays rational. Keigo isn’t quite sure what the exact impact that force-feeding you by mouth would have, but he knows it wouldn’t be good. Potentially trauma-inducing.

It’s much easier and far more sane to gently sit you in front of himself as he navigates a fork to your mouth. He lets you take your time, working through the bowl with you one bite at a time. If you take too long, he doesn’t mind reheating it and sitting back down with you. It might be a little tedious and time-consuming, but he doesn’t really mind.

When he’s done feeding you he tosses the bowl and fork into the sink, not bothering to be gentle about it. He is, however, very gentle about pulling you into his lap, sitting comfortably with you as close as possible. You move to stand up and pull yourself away, but his arms catch you in a hug, snaring you in place. His wings then wrap around you, keeping you as trapped as you are warm.

It feels right, to have you here. To have you close. Your needs met, your comfort assured. Warm, safe, well-fed. What more could anybody want?

Certainly, you couldn’t want to leave the nest he had built just for you, right?

Not that he’d ever give you the chance.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere MHA #Yandere My Hero Academia #Yandere Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami

249 notes · View notes

yelena-bellova · 10 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Saturday Morning

Plot: Jamie and Y/n spend an unconventional day off together.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child abuse/neglect

A/N: Annndd we’re finally in it in it. A little bit of backstory, a little bit of trauma bonding and a whole lot of fluffy angst. Enjoy!!

(I also fell way behind w/ the taglist and since this series is maybe PG-13, I’m dropping the 16+ 💕)

—————

Someone was knocking on the door.

No, not knocking. Pounding.

Y/n slipped out of bed silently, as if the intruder was already inside her apartment. Bleary-eyed and stumbling in the dark, her hands fumbled for the baseball bat she kept behind her closet door. She’d had it since college and she couldn’t believe she was finally going to have to use it.

The banging continued as she walked through the apartment and down the stairs, growing louder the longer it went unanswered. Whoever was coming to abduct or rob her was clearly in a rush to do so.

Y/n steadied her breath and adjusted her grip on the bat, daring to peek through the peephole and see what she was up against.

“Wha-“ she uttered, lowering her bat and unlocking the door. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

On her stoop, Jamie was bouncing in place, “Can I use your loo?”

Y/n squinted, putting up a hand to block the bulb of Jamie’s stupid headlamp. “What?”

“Roy and I are on a run and I’ve gotta take a piss,” Jamie explained hurriedly, “You’re the only person I know in the neighborhood.”

With a heart rate well over 120 and a mind sluggish from sleep, it took Y/n a second to process his words. “I thought you were a fucking burgler,” she groaned.

Jamie whipped his hand frantically, “Is that a yes?”

Y/n was tempted to shut the door and let him take his chances with a public urination charge. Her friendlier instincts won out and she stepped to the side, letting Jamie race up the staircase to her bathroom. She shut and locked the door once more before trudging back up and setting her bat on the kitchen counter.

A moment later, Jamie emerged, calm and laughing to himself about something. “What kind of burgler knocks before robbin’ ya?”

Y/n was in no mood for his sense of humor. “It is 4-fucking-AM,” she pointed to the stove clock, “I am a single woman who lives on her own and it is 4-fucking-AM.”

“Alright, alright,” Jamie held his hands up in surrender, “Coulda texted you. I’m sorry.”

Y/n leaned against the back of her couch and wiped her hands over her face. Jamie made his way to the stairs, but was struck with a grand idea before he could take the first step.

“Do you wanna come with?”

Y/n glanced up from her palms, “What?”

“With me,” Jamie continued, “Roy. Go for a mornin’ run?”

“What part of 4-fucking-AM isn’t getting through to you?” Y/n asked, floored by his oblivion.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna be up anyway now,” Jamie shrugged, hopping from one foot to the other, “Get your blood pumpin’. Some endorphins.”

Y/n stared at him and wondered if she tried hard enough, could she kill him with eye contact alone?

“It’ll be fun,” Jamie smiled, jutting out his neck a little.

As much as it pained her to admit, he was right. There was no chance in hell she was getting back to sleep with all her senses dialed to 11. It was either tossing and turning in bed for an hour before she admitted defeat and started her day, or do something productive.

Y/n rolled her eyes and brushed past Jamie to grab her running shoes. “4 fucking AM…” she grumbled as she passed him once more.

Jamie made two victorious fists, too pleased with himself to acknowledge the fact that he’d robbed her of a precious Saturday sleep-in. She’d enjoy herself once they got out.

Grabbing a hoodie and locking up her apartment, Y/n followed Jamie out to the street where Roy was waiting on the sidewalk. Under the light of his own headlamp, he looked as confused as Y/n had moments before when he saw her trailing behind Jamie.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“Convinced States to join us, yeah?” Jamie answered as Y/n yawned.

“I’m gonna fucking push you into the first lake we see,” Y/n glared at the back of Jamie’s head.

Roy looked between his trainee and the woman he barely knew, but respected for the threat alone. Nodding, his eyes landed on Y/n, “You can stay if you keep up.”

“No problem there,” Y/n sighed, taking off into a jog. If Jamie was going to ruin her day off, the least she could do was beat him.

Sharing a glance of amusement, Jamie and Roy ran after Y/n, into the early London morning.

—————————

It turned out to be a fair fight between Y/n and Jamie. Jamie hadn’t underestimated her, per se, but he figured her exhaustion would slow her down. She’d held her own right up against him and impressed even Roy.

“You’re fuckin’ fit, you are,” Jamie said after, the two of them having gone for tea afterwards. He quickly realized the double meaning of the word, “I mean, not like that. I mean, you are, yeah, but I mean-“

“Oh my gosh, words,” Y/n groaned, reaching with one hand to Jamie’s mouth, “Stop.”

Jamie swerved to avoid the hit, chuckling after. “You’re a proper asshole when you’re tired,” he snickered.

“Well, when I get woken up at 4AM,” Y/n glared over at the man, “No, I don’t feel particularly kind.”

The two of them strolled through Richmond, Roy having left them mere minutes ago. They’d run on and off for about an hour before Y/n had to sit through the rest of their regiment. She’d taken a great deal of joy in sitting back with Roy and yelling commands at Jamie.

“I think Roy’s gonna invite you every mornin’ now,” Jamie mused, taking a sip of tea.

Y/n faked a gasp, grasping Jamie’s bicep, “Getting to hurl insults at you? Every day? Oh, well, that’s it. Better hand Keeley my resignation.”

Jamie laughed, shoving her off him before spotting and leading them to a bench. Richmond on a Saturday morning was bustling with people, but it was a peaceful kind of frenzy. The kind you could watch and enjoy.

“Admit it,” Jamie said, sitting down, “You had fun.”

Y/n sighed, pulling her tea to her lips. No such thing would be admitted.

“Why are you even still doing this?” She asked, looking out into the park where a group of kids were kicking around a football, “Zava’s gone. You’re back to being number one. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

Jamie ran his fingers over his chin, she wasn’t wrong. Zava had made his unannounced exit two weeks prior. The whole reason Roy had offered to train him was to get him back to being the best. He may not have earned it, but the title had been bestowed back to Jamie. Mission accomplished.

“Think it’s more than that,” he answered, “More than Zava. I think…I know I can be better. And I wanna get there. See what I can do.”

Y/n nodded in reply, that was something she could understand. How many times had she pushed herself in school? At work? Not to beat anyone, but to know she had done her absolute best?

“Maybe it’ll pay off in Amsterdam,” she commented before taking a sip of tea. The exhibition match was just one week away.

“Ah,” Jamie smiled, “You excited?”

Y/n tilted her head from side to side in a shrug, “I guess. I’ve never been.”

Jamie’s face transformed in a split second, from content to near disgusted.

Y/n leant back, “What?”

“You’ve never been to Amsterdam?” Jamie was darn near incredulous at the mere notion.

“No,” Y/n replied, her voice jumping an octave under his judgement.

Jamie scoffed and turned away from her. “How the fuck do you live here this long and not go to Amsterdam?”

“And yet somehow, I still walk the earth,” Y/n chuckled at how bothered he was, “I’m guessing you’ve been.”

Jamie’s lips popped out very duckface-ish. “‘Course I have. Practically a fuckin’ tour guide.”

“Alright,” Y/n said, “Gimme your recommendations.”

Settling back against the bench as if he meant to stay a proper while, Jamie ran through his index. He picked through the pleasant memories, stag parties and one emergency diverted flight that ended in a particularly rowdy five star hotel evening. None of those amounted to anything stacked up against one trip taken much earlier in life.

“Gotta go to the Anne Frank house,” he began to list off ideas, “It’s super sad, but you gotta do it. There’s a really good place nearby to get stroopwafel, gotta go there. Eh, a boat ride down the canal. The tour guides driving ‘em give you all these fun facts about the architecture and the history and stuff.”

Y/n listened, it was the first time she’d seen Jamie properly excited about something. He was passionate on the field, but this was a childlike joy.

“You do remember there’s a match, right?” she laughed, “I’m only gonna end up having, like, one night.

“Then fuckin’ pack it in,” Jamie shrugged and gestured ahead of them like the country was laid out before them, “It’s Amsterdam.”

Y/n raised her cup to take a sip, “How do you know so much? You’ve really been that many times?”

“My mum took me when I were about 16,” Jamie answered, “Took me to all the historical sights and stuff. Guess it all just stuck.”

“Hm,” Y/n nodded, “What about your dad?”

What prompted her to ask, Y/n couldn’t know. She’d noticed that Jamie’s mother came up in conversation sometimes, but his father never did. Her subconscious curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Jamie felt his chest tighten at the mention of his dad. Y/n couldn’t have known anything about their relationship, he knew this. He just wasn’t sure how to reply when it was a subject he didn’t want to pick up. At all.

“Not really a thing,” he chose the safest answer, “He took me before me mum, but…wasn’t nearly as fun.”

Y/n watched his expression shift, how his eyes went from watching his fingers slide over his paper cup to the air in front of them. How Jamie was always fidgeting, but was now doing it with purpose. Worse, she recognized something about all of it.

“I’m sorry,” she backtracked, “That was way too personal, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, it’s-“ Jamie quickly held up a hand. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel bad for her innocence. “It’s fine. He’s just a,” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

Y/n gazed down at her tea, sensing there was more that he wanted to say. Looking away not only saved her dignity, but it allowed him some quasi-privacy to say it.

“What about your folks?” Jamie finally looked back at Y/n, nudging her elbow a little.

That was worse, Y/n decided. Far worse.

“Uh,” she stalled, there was no choice but to answer, “We don’t really talk, to be honest.”

“Why not?” Jamie didn’t hesitate to ask.

Y/n inhaled deeply, blowing the air out with puffed cheeks. It was a piece of her history that she’d left in America, sending it into silent submission the second she stepped foot in London.

“We just…” Y/n shrugged, “Don’t have a relationship. Never have.”

Jamie’s brows dropped in confusion, “What’re you, like, adopted or somethin’?”

“Nope,” Y/n’s lips popped around the syllable, “They’ve just…never had any interest in their kids. Me and my sister, we kind of raised ourselves.”

“Fuck,” Jamie muttered, realizing he had definitely dug too deep. It was too late to back out though, their secrets were spilling themselves out. Better to lean into it than try and patch the all too massive leaks.

Y/n bitterly chuckled over her tea cup, “Yeah.”

Jamie absorbed what she said, leaning on his knees now. It was like he had to take a defensive position up a past that was nowhere near, yet all around him. If Y/n was going to be honest, the least he could do was match it.

“My dad and I,” he started, picking at a loose corner of the cardboard around his cup, “We kinda got in a fight. Earlier this year.”

Y/n turned to face Jamie, thinking he meant an entirely normal type of argument.

“Came back to the locker room after we lost a match,” he continued the story, “Talked a bunch of shit. Got ugly and…” Jamie hesitated, his fist feeling the phantom pain of the confrontation, “Yeah…”

Y/n’s lips parted in gentle shock, he didn’t need to finish for the meaning to come across.

Jamie could feel her eyes resting on him and found the strength to meet them. The tight smile across his face didn’t match the story, but it felt necessary. He sat back, hating the silence they were wading in.

“My parents never yelled. Not because me and my sister were perfect angels or anything, but…they just didn’t care enough to get that emotional,” Y/n admitted before she could even realize the vulnerability in which she said it with, “I mean, there was nothing we could do to even get them to pay attention to us. No recitals, no science fairs, no achievements…nothing. So long as they kept a roof over our heads and kept us breathing, they felt they were doing enough of a job.”

Jamie scoffed, bitter for both of them. “Me dad couldn’t be bothered to show up to any matches. Not when I were a kid.”

“What about when you went pro?” Y/n asked.

“Only in Manchester,” Jamie answered, “Screamin’ at me on and off the pitch that I were doin’ it wrong.”

Y/n traced the curve of Jamie’s jaw with her eyes, watching it clench. He made sense. For the first time since they’d met, he made total sense. You couldn’t go through a childhood like his and not come out with something to prove.

Their conversation became an exchange. One would share and, to make the other feel not so vulnerable, the other would chime in. “Once me and my sister could cook for ourselves, get jobs,” Y/n countered Jamie’s revelation, “My parents were even more done. It’s the main reason I came to England. To get away from them.”

Jamie was fully engaged now, his body turned to face Y/n as she matched his honesty. He knew all about running away.

“I worked so hard in school to get As, extracurricular stuff, anything I could,” Y/n gestured to the air with her cup, “So I could get out.”

“Yeah,” Jamie interjected, his memory sliding back to mornings before dawn spent on the pitch near his childhood home. He’d been just as relentless then as he was now. “Can’t tell you how many fuckin’ hours I spent just…tryin’ to get good. Tryin’ to do something he couldn’t touch.”

Whatever tolerance Y/n and Jamie had start with had long since morphed to a sort of comfortable acquaintanceship. It felt like, without ever moving from their bench, they had made some grand leap into kinship. They were both members of a club neither of them had asked to be in. With their shit spilled out on the ground before them, there was so very little left for them to hide.

“Y’know they’ve never visited me?” Y/n said softly, catching the shock on Jamie’s face out the corner of her eye, “Not once. I’ve been here since I was eighteen…not even for my graduation.”

Jamie watched with sadness as Y/n tried to hide hers. Once they found one another, it felt like there was nothing else to do but…laugh. It was one of those, this is our life laughs. Here we are, our families don’t love us, and it’s not right but here we are. Gentle and faded, but still unbelieving.

“Think we did pretty good,” Jamie said, “Yeah?”

Y/n’s smile came back, she’d allowed Jamie to cross so many of her self-drawn lines and she’d believed it had simply been out of convenience. No, there was something about him she’d only ever recognized in herself. Resilience. “Resentment’s a tremendous motivator, isn’t it?”

Jamie smirked at Y/n, wondering how he’d gravitated towards her knowing just the best, only to find out they had the worst in common. They were both a little broken, and it certainly felt better to be broken with someone else than by himself.

“I’ll drink to that,” he smiled, the two of their paper cups knocking into one another.

————————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan

#ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #heartfirst

499 notes · View notes

milo-manheim-luver · 10 months

Text

The Night We Met- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

summary: rafe thinks you two met at a party years ago, but finds out you two had actually met a year before that. but why can’t he remember? and what happened that night?

warnings: major drug use, drug overdose, angst, mentions of alcohol, fluff, ooc rafe, suggestive content and defs cringy at the end lol. also might be a bit short? idek.

a/n: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE WARNINGS ABOVE don’t know how i feel about the ending but i’m gonna yolo it. thought of this idea/concept when i was listening to the song below:

“you know, i’m so fucking happy you said ‘yes’. i honestly don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t” rafe spoke as he held Y/N in his arms, curled up in the bed at his father’s house in the bahamas. one arm wrapped around the young woman’s back as the other gripped her bare thigh against his hip. the young woman’s hand drew imaginary shapes against his chest before looking up into his deep blue eyes.

“i could never say the word ‘no’ to you my love. never. i’m yours. forever and always. you’re the best thing that’s happened to me and i’m so happy i’m finally a cameron” Y/N face cracked into a wide smile, as she continued to gaze into rafe’s eyes, as he broke into a rare, genuine smile. the two had just gotten married the night before, and were now just relaxing in the privacy of rafe’s, father’s home in the bahamas.

“im so happy we met. truly, i am. i love you baby” rafe whispered down to his newly wedded wife, moving his hand from holding her bare thigh, to push back a piece of her hair from her face, as he planted a gentle, but passionate kiss to her plump lips.

“i love you too hunny” she whispered as their lips detached from one another’s. “d-do you remember the night we met?” Y/N continued, swallowing the lump in her throat. she knew she’d have to tell him her secret eventually, and now seemed like the perfect time as they were about to spend the rest of their lives together.

“uh yeah… i think so? pretty sure it was that banger of a party top was having my senior year of high school. you had come to the party with sarah. you guys had only been friends for about a year or two by then? i couldn’t stop looking at you” rafe chuckled at the memory as he continued. “i got you on my team as we played beer pong… and we killed it. everyone else we went up against sucked so bad” rafe continued to hold her in his arms, looking down to admire the woman he’d just gotten so lucky to marry.

“uh… r-rafe um m-my love. c-can i tell you something?” Y/N stuttered out to rafe. she was so scared to tell him how wrong he was, but she knew it had to be done.

“babe, you know you can tell me anything. what is it?” rafe questioned, as his hand on her bare thigh, began to rub soothing circles into her soft skin.

“that’s not the night we met… um… do you remember that story you told me about your overdose incident you had when you were only seventeen?” Y/N whispered out, not wanting to upset rafe by bringing up a hard time from his past that he was never proud of.

“uh, yeah. i do. that night is kinda a blur still to this day. all i remember is doing a few too many lines and waking up in the kildare island hospital two days later. doctors said if whoever had made the call, called five minutes later i’d be dead. why?” he spoke softly, as he replayed the memories in his brain. he’s hurt so many people during that period of time. he wished he’d never even started doing the drug, but at the time he felt as if that was the only thing that could save him from himself.

the young woman began to shake involuntary, getting her lovers attention, “babe why are you shaking? did i go too hard earlier?” he chuckled out lightheartedly, trying to lighten her mood.

“i’m shaking because i feel bad for keeping something from you. and yeah you did go hard, but i’m not complaining…. but that’s besides the point. please hear me out and don’t get mad. i only did it to protect you” she rambled on as rafe’s facial expression changed from a smile, to a stone-cold look, going completely serious.

she took his silence and stare as a sign to continue on what she had been keeping from him for the last 5 years. “that night you overdosed, i had come over to tannyhill to talk to sarah about something a-and when i got there…. there was nobody home… u-until i walked past your room a-and you were just pacing back and forth like some crazy guy” Y/N sniffled out as she moved her hand from drawing imaginary shapes from rafe’s chest, to cradle his left cheek as she spoke.

Y/N had just arrived to tannyhill, as her and sarah had to start working on a school project soon. but as soon as she arrived to the house, it was completely empty. she was always welcomed in, even when nobody was home. rose and ward had adored her as soon as they’d met her six months before tonight. it also helped that Y/N family were close business partners with ward as well.

as soon as Y/N walked up the spiral staircase, calling out sarah’s name, to see if she was home, she rounded the corner trying to find sarah. instead of sarah, however she found sarah’s brother, pacing his room back and forth, mumbling words to himself. he’d seemed to be twitching, and almost shaking as he was pacing, alarming Y/N a small amount. she’s decided to step into his doorway to see if he was okay.

rafe’s eyes softened as his girl spoke of what really happened that night he’d almost died, nodding his head in her hand, signaling her to continue. “i approached you babe, and you started getting all paranoid, you were yelling at me, which i guess wasn’t that abnormal for you at the time from what i’d heard from others. you started marching over to me as you continued to yell, i think you were going to push me, but i don’t know, but then you just fell to the ground and started dry heaving involuntarily, as your breathing became unsteady. it scared me…. i’d never seen anyone like that before. b-but then y-you turned all pale and completely passed out. i-i didn’t know what to do so i ran over to you to see what happened” Y/N started to whimper, as a single tear fell from her tear duct, and rolled down her soft cheek.

“hey, rafe, right? it’s Y/N, sarah’s friend. are you okay? you don’t look too good” Y/N asked politely to the young teenage boy, who stopped his pacing to look up at the girl.

“who the hell are you? what are you doing in my house? huh?” the young man yelled, as he began to walk up towards the girl, ready to shove her out of his room, but before he could get close enough, he hunched over, involuntarily dry heaving, as his breathing became more rapid, drawing even more red flags in the young teenage girls brain.

his face started to turn as white as a ghost, before he ultimately lost consciousness completely, falling limp onto his bedroom floor. Y/N immediately ran over the boys sides to see what she could do.

rafe’s eyes began to water, as he stared down at Y/N, seeing her slowly crack and break down into his arms. something he had dwelled forever; seeing his lover heartbroken and distraught. he’d never wanted to see her this way. it ached him to see her this way, and to know he was the cause made it 10x worse. “b-baby, continue…. finish the story. i can take it” rafe’s voice cracked as he urged his lover to tell the rest of the story. he was in shambles at the moment, tears welling up in his eyes as they started to pour out one by one.

“as soon as i’d ran over to your body, i picked your head up, trying to talk to you. i was just trying to figure out what you had taken. but then i’d remembered hearing from sarah before that you’d been doing a lot of cocaine, but in all seriousness i don’t think anyone noticed how bad your addiction really was.” Y/N whispered out, as she relived that night in her head one more time. she soon continued, “i was trying to find a pulse as i still held your head in my arms. i could barely hear it, and your skin was on fire. i’d just assumed it was a drug overdose, s-so i called 9-1-1”

the young teenage girl cradled the young drug addict’s head in her arms carefully, immediately feeling the extreme heat radiating from his skin, alarming the girl further. why was he on fire? and why did he completely pass out? Y/N soon came to realization what was possibly happening as soon as she remembered the conversation her and sarah were having the week before. sarah had been complaining to Y/N about her brother’s ‘slight’ drug problem. the drug of his choice however had been cocaine. sarah was always telling her how everytime he’d do a line or two, he’d get extremely paranoid and more aggressive than normal.

“rafe, wake up” the worried girl cried out to the passed out boy. “rafe, what did you take? how much did you take?!” she cried out again, but no answer to avail. she huffed and puffed as she started to cry, trying to find a pulse. she could barely hear his heartbeat through his carotid artery. she could not be responsible for his possible drug overdose. she would not. so, Y/N grabbed her phone from her back pocket of her jeans, and dialed 9-1-1.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the older lady spoke through the phone.

“hi, um i need an ambulance to the Cameron estate at tannyhill immediately! there’s a possible cocaine drug overdose! please come quick! i-i don’t know how much longer h-he will keep breathing” Y/N weeped into her phone, as she tried to keep her cool.

“ma’am, i need you to calm down. what’s your name?” the older lady asked through the phone to the young distraught girl.

“y-Y/N. what’s yours?” Y/N asked the lady.

“my name is susannah. Y/N i need you to tell me if they’re still breathing.” susannah spoke calmly to the young girl.

“u-uh yeah, it’s super faint though. is he gonna die?!” Y/N started sobbing as she continued to cradle rafe’s head.

“Y/N… do you know what possible drug they could’ve overdosed on? and do you know how much they took? their height or weight?”

“h-he does cocaine i believe. or at least that’s what i’ve been told. he’s uh maybe 6’2ish? i’m not sure. i-i don’t know how much he did though. i-i’m not sure how much he weighs but i do know that hes more of a muscular build if that helps” Y/N stuttered out to susannah, the 9-1-1 dispatcher.

“okay, Y/N stay with me. take deep breaths. help is on the way” susannah continued to speak to Y/N.

“y-you we-were the one who called the a-ambulance?” rafe croaked out to Y/N as he finally cracked. he was a mess. tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to hold in his sobs, but no longer could. he was so tired of fighting to not show any emotion, so he didn’t fight it anymore. he continued through his sobs, “y-you were m-my savior t-that night?” the young man was wrapping his head around the realization that his newly wedded wife was the angel that saved his life all those years ago when he almost ended it after taking too much of the white drug.

Y/N just softly nodded her head, “i was baby… i was. i know i should’ve told you sooner. but i didn’t, i-i wanted to protect you from knowing the full truth because i know you’re gonna beat yourself up over it. that’s how you are; you will get so mad at yourself for something you’ve done that you slowly start to hurt yourself. i can’t let that happen to you baby” Y/N engulfed him into a hug, as her arms cradled his head into her chest as he wept.

“as soon as the ambulance got there, the cops also arrived. i gave my statement and since i was under eighteen, for legal reasons, they never put my name in that statement. that’s why you never knew and why they never told you. my love…. d-don’t be mad please.” the young woman stuttered out, scared her new husband was mad at her.

rafe lifted his head from her chest, sniffling, “i-i could never be mad at you baby…. never. i-i wanna tell you w-what the doctors told m-my dad and i… can i tell you?” Y/N wiped away rafe’s tears that continuously leaked from his eyes, as she nodded in response, wanting to know everything he knew.

it took rafe a moment to compose himself then began, “when i woke up two days later, obviously i told you that the doctor said that if whoever hadn’t called when they did or even 5 minutes later i’d be dead. i never told you why that was”

“what do you mean my love?” Y/N softly spoke as she looked into rafe’s deep blue eyes, with a look of worry in her own eyes to know the truth.

“i mean… the cocaine i took that night had been laced with small amounts of fentanyl which is why i lost complete consciousness and almost stopped breathing. they had to give me three doses of NARCAN and wait for the best. my dad made sure to keep that part secret, because having all of his business partners know about my cocaine problem was bad enough. he didn’t want anyone to know i’d accidentally done fentanyl as well.” rafe sighed as he remembered the look on his father’s face when he woke up: pure disappointment.

“really rafe? really? cocaine overdose? laced with fentanyl?! how do you think that’s going to make the family look? huh? i’m going to have to pay people off from telling others. this cannot get out” ward went on to his son about how he’d screwed up. it’d only been a day since rafe had woken up from his small coma and ward was already being insensitive to the teenage boys drug problem.

“d-dad i’m sorry. i didn’t know how else to cope with my feelings. it was the only escape i had from feeling like shit. w-when i take it, i feel-i feel almost happy” rafe tried to explain to his father, who in return just scoffed harshly.

“rafe… you need to get your shit together. i’m so sick of you coming up with all these excuses. you keep this shit up and you’re out of the house. got it?” ward sneered back to his only son, who only cowered his head down and nodded in return.

“rafe… you never told me that. why?” Y/N asked sweetly as she continued to gaze into rafe’s blue eyes.

“i’m not proud of that moment in my life. i was embarrassed for so many years. my father paid off people from telling others. he was so disappointed in me. you should’ve seen the look in his eyes the day after i woke up.” rafe sighed softly as he spoke.

“hunny, i’m sorry you went through that. never feel embarrassed about your struggles. i hope you know that no matter what, i will always love you. i will never be disappointed in you. i know that’s different coming from me and not him, but just remember i’ll always be by your side” Y/N thought thoroughly as she spoke every word with love.

“after the overdose incident… and seeing how scared my sisters were, and rose, i wanted so badly to get clean but i couldn’t go to rehab because then word would get out and it’d ruin my father’s deals and business. so i had to do it myself. it took awhile… and it was hard. but i eventually did it. after meeting you, well, from when i thought we met for the first time, you gave me strength to stay clean even when i had the urges” rafe smiled through more tears as he looked down at his wife.

“my love, i’m so proud of you. nothing you went through was easy. i hope you know that. and i hope you know i love you so much and if you ever feel like you have an urge you tell me. got it?” she spoke softly as she still caressed his cheeks looking into his eyes and to his lips.

rafe leaned down, planting his lips onto Y/N, kissing them repeatedly, as did she, and planting one last kiss that was full of love and passion, then pulled away.

“i love you baby. you’re my everything. i promise to come to you if i ever need anything or have an urge. i promise to not hurt you like i did to others i love in the past. i won’t put you through all the shit i put everyone else through all those years ago” rafe smiled again down at Y/N.

“i love you too with all my heart. now prove your love mr cameron” Y/N smirked up at rafe as he chuckled loudly.

“your wish is my command… but are you up for it?” he raised an eyebrow in question with a smirk planted on his face.

“i think i’ve rested enough… just give it to me” she smirked as rafe leaned down placing his lips onto hers harshly, pulling away once more.

“got it mrs cameron. got it. i’m gonna give it to you now” he smirked as he flipped the two over so he was hovering over her again.

“love you” she smiled as there noses briskly touched.

“love you too, my savior. now how about some kids?”

tag list:

@slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover

#Spotify #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #drew starkey x y/n #outer banks #drew starkey fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader

639 notes · View notes

captain-mj · 10 months

Text

Vampire Pt 5

CW: suicidal ideation, non typical self harm, smut, Ghost finally drinks from Soap

We're back!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Ghost stared at the new people. His discomfort was immediate but subtle enough that only the people who knew him would pick up on it. He immediately sought out the places of exit and sunlight before finding Johnny.

“Now. Why were you all scolding my familiar and why is there a werewolf in my home?”

Price stood up immediately. “Well, Simon-”

“Ghost.” He corrected, glaring down Farah. She shrank back from him, a healthy respect in her eyes. No fear despite here stance. When he noticed the shaking and unconscious woman in Alejandro’s hands, he realized why. She was protecting someone. He glanced at Johnny, partially for answers and partially to make sure he was there..

His little familiar stared at him and Ghost tried not to preen. It was just because he had never seen his face before. And judging by the dumbstruck look on his face, he was probably surprised by how much he was scarred. Soap definitely was wondering how great of a warrior he was. Unfortunately, those days were far behind him, though Soap’s reaction to him made him feel fearsome in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Later, he’d assure Soap that he never, ever had to be afraid of him.

Ghost had to look away from him briefly when he heard Alex bursting in.

“Ah. Damn. Nevermind, you’re on your own.”

“Alex!” Farah growled at him, sneaking glances at all of them. The atmosphere felt tense and incredibly awkward.

Ghost moved slowly. The floor creaked beneath him as he walked. He went closer to his Johnny and noticed how he was standing. Hands behind his back. Perfect posture like he only had when he had done something wrong.

Rather than call him out in front of everyone, he circled him.

His hands.

They had ash.

Ghost knew immediately something horrible had happened. But his friends were all here and very much alive. Whoever died… well.

They could cross that bridge when they came to it.

His own hands were ungloved. Now adorned with sharp nails. He wrapped his hand around Soap’s throat, careful not to squeeze. Ghost only wanted to feel his pulse beneath his fingers.

Soap let out a breath and everyone else tensed.

Farah immediately stepped forward. “Wait, I dragged him into everything. Alright? He didn’t even want to do it.” She had her hand up, eyes on Ghost.

Ghost hated when people looked at his face. The only thing worse than being seen was retreating though.

“I’m not going to kill him. You can all relax. I need him to make me a new mask anyway. My last one was ripped.” He twisted and leaned his head down to look at Soap and continued to speak only to him. “Shame. I really liked that one. You can replace it right?” His thumb rubbed gentle circles into his skin. The tan flesh of Soap’s throat made him feel warmer. Maybe there were multiple uses for humans.

Soap must’ve noticed his pointed ears and nodded. “I’ll find a way to work around everything, sir.”

Ghost moved so he was speaking directly in his ear. “Good boy. And later, we can talk about this, huh?” He grabbed Soap’s hands, discreetly dusting them off before turning to everyone else once again.

Interviewer: So how you feeling?

Soap: I’d never be so fucking horny in my life. He called me a good boy.

Interviewer notes that Soap is still flushed: Right. He didn’t even care that you murdered someone

Soap: He just covered it up for me! That’s so against Vampire Code but he just brushed my hands off. And did you see his face??

Interviewer: He’s prettier than I was expecting.

Soap: So pretty! I can finally draw him accurately. He’s a lot paler than I was expecting, but he is British. Also, he doesn’t have any scars. That also caught me off guard. He constantly mentions them but I didn’t see anything.

Interviewer: Maybe they’re not on his face? Or he means mentally?

Soap: He’s so dreamy. And when he put his hands around my throat… What a man.

Interviewer: You know what, I think we’ve covered everything for now.

Everyone was squabbling. Ghost used Johnny as a stress ball, squeezing his arm carefully before letting go and repeating. The louds noises and the air on his face was… what was the word Soap used that one time?

Overstimulating? That was it. Overstimulating.

“What do we do about the lady?” Alejandro held up Malika. “If someone finds out we were part of a plot to steal a familiar, it could mean banishment or being forced into the sun.”

Ghost considered their options. With the vampire dead, he would have to convince them not to take Malika back. They could just cover all of this.

Price nodded. “Well, obviously we have to take them back.”

“No. If we take them back, it implicates us. The best thing is to just get rid of her.” If she was gone, no witnesses.

Farah snarled at him. “Absolutely not.”

They’d have to kill two werewolves too. And then Laswell. Ghost did not want to get rid of Laswell. Neither did he particularly think they would be capable of killing Laswell.

Rodolfo hummed. “What if we just let them keep her? As long as everyone agrees to keep quiet, you can punish Soap and we can all move on.”

“Exactly!” Alejandro nodded. “No need to kill her for no reason. Clearly, Farah here went through a lot effort to get her back.”

“Wait, how do you guys know my name?”

“We’re good friends with Kate.” Price whispered to her, standing up. “Look, maybe I’m a little more traditional, but do you really think this is wise? Really?”

Ghost shrugged. “We knew nothing. It’s daylight. No vampire is going to be looking for her.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers together, feeling ash and bone dust. No vampire indeed.

Price shook his head. “I understand you got your claws and all, but I’m the oldest here. If someone stole Soap, would you seriously be okay with it?”

Ghost tightened his grip so fast Soap yelped in pain. “I’d never let my familiar get to such a state. I’d also never hold someone against their will.”

Price narrowed his eyes. “Implying something, Simon?”

Rodolfo gently pushed their guests to sit down. “Don’t ruin this for me. I’ve been waiting for these two to fight for ages.” He settled in. “There’s coffee in the kitchen as well as soda.”

Gaz materialized on the couch. “This is the perfect way to end a night fellows.”

Interviewer: What did you mean by that?

Rudy: They’ve been walking around each other for centuries. As long as I’ve known them, there’s been this… tension. I always assumed it was sexual ya know?

Interviewer: Uh, okay.

Rudy: But I’ve been waiting decades for them to just blow up at each other.

Alejandro: Anytime they’re alone with each other, it’s especially bad. It’s mostly from Ghost. I’ve been dying to know too. I think Ghost is angry about being turned.

Rudy: Why would Ghost hate being turned? Being a vampire is amazing. You don’t regret being turned, do you?

Alejandro: Mi noche, of course not.

Interviewer makes a note that Alejandro looks a little sad when Rudy put his arms around him.

Ghost hissed at him immediately. “Ghost. I told you my name is Ghost.”

“Will you let it go, Simon? You’re not human. I’m sorry that I was so selfish.” Price sounded so condescending.

“You were!” Simon shouted. “You were selfish!! I was supposed to die on that field. I was fine with it. A hero’s end. Cut down by an enemies blade.”

“I didn’t want you to die.”

“Why? Why not? What made you decide to change my fate there? I was just a soldier! I wasn’t important!”

Price shook his head. “I put so much time into you. Trying to make sure you were okay. Keeping you from dragging yourself into the sun. Do any of them know how many times I had to feed you because you ripped your own fangs out? Tore at yourself until you barely were able to heal? Why can’t you just be thankful you’re alive?”

“Because I don’t want to be!”

The awkward silence that filled the room was suffocating.

“I wanted you to let me die. Just give me a fucking reason. You told me it was because I was special and then that I was the only person alive which I know wasn’t true. Then it was that I respected you. Wasn’t afraid. What was the real fucking answer? What reason did you have from taking my humanity away from me?”

Price stared at him before sighing. “I didn’t have a reason. I saw you among the other dying men. And that was it.”

Ghost stared at him. He felt the pinch of his fangs. The agony of ripping them out by the root. Feeling cold blood fill up his mouth and gush out from between his lips. He was always careful not to swallow because of how horribly sick it would make him. Wouldn’t fucking kill him though.

“You weren’t special, Simon. I just noticed you, lying on the ground, bleeding out. I thought you’d be appreciative.”

Ghost felt his ears ringing. “You thought wrong.”

“Clearly, Simon.”

“Ghost. Simon died a very long time ago.”

Price had brought him people. Random victims. He remember being unable to control himself once the blood started flowing. Price had encouraged it. Had tried to teach him how to survive. Unfortunately for Ghost and fortunately for Price, survival instincts did eventually step in. A year of trying to kill oneself with no luck… it still does things to a person.

“I didn’t kill you. You’re still right here.”

Ghost scowled. “You made sure of that. The girl leaves. They can have her. You’re not part of this coven or this household. Do any of them people who belong to this house have an objection?”

Rodolfo, Alejandro and Gaz all shook their heads in sync. All five of them were enraptured. Malika had just started to wake up but even she showed some interest.

Price frowned at him and he quickly stepped closer. “I’m sorry. I went too far there.”

Ghost yanked Soap along. “Tell Kate I said hi.” He was starving. The second hand blood from Rudy had already been ran through. He would’ve been fine until tonight if he hadn’t been woken up. But now, he couldn’t wait.

Soap jogged to keep up with him. “Sir…” He sounded hesitant, hand gently coming up to clasp on to Ghost’s arm. “That was pretty… intense.”

Ghost grabbed him and yanked him into his room, lifting him off the ground like a marionette. He set him on his coffin. “Johnny. Take off your shirt.”

Interviewer: So what went through your mind in that moment?

Soap: God I hope I don’t cry during sex with him.

Interviewer: Dios mio…

Soap slowly slipped his shirt off like he was unwrapping a present for Ghost. He looked shy, as if he didn’t regularly walk around shirtless during the summer. Before Ghost could even comment, he snapped the chain of his cross necklace and tossed it to the side. Big sign of trust dedicated to a person who planned on eating him.

“I can’t wait until nightfall. I’m not going to take too much.” Ghost grabbed him by his hair and forced his head back. His nose pressed right against his neck, seeking out his jugular and each of the little veins. It wasn’t really a question, more of a courtesy heads up that he would be feeding from. While doing this, he pressed himself between Johnny’s legs, trying to close the gap between them. He was just stealing warmth and he could always blame it on being hungry and upset. Other people loved when Ghost talked about his feelings.

Soap flushed impossibly bright. “Oh! Oh, yes, of course. Take what you need from me.” He buried his hands in Ghost’s hair. “Is this okay? I don’t want to touch you too much if you’re no-”

Ghost’s fangs slid into his throat. Just to the left of one of his jugular so he wouldn’t puncture it. He worried it would bleed too much and Soap may black out. Or worse.

Blood was never sweet. It was always savory or salty. Diet was a big part of it too. Healthier diets tasted better. Salt filled diets meant saltier blood. So on. So forth.

Soap was… Good. Really good. It made sense. He took good care of himself. But it surprised Ghost just how perfect he tasted.

Ghost groaned and sank in deeper. A leech. Maybe a tick would be better. Clamping his jaws into Johnny. Holding him so tight and drinking him until there was nothing left. Stealing the warmth from his veins.

Soap whimpered and Ghost slowly retracted his fangs. He closed his mouth over the wound and started to drink. His arms cradled Soap to his chest, enjoying how soft and hot he felt. The hands in his hair tightened their grip but they pulled him closer instead of pushing him away.

“I got you, Ghost.” Soap muttered to him and Ghost melted into his grip. He pulled away slowly to lap at the wound instead. Blood dribbled down Soap’s chest and his head ducked to follow the droplets back up his chest with his tongue.

Soap’s breath caught and Ghost felt him pressed against his hip. Humans get turned on by the strangest things.

Ghost finished feeding and pulled away once he was sure there was no more blood coming from the wound. He thought of ignoring the little problem Soap was having, but he thought it would be more fun to bother him about it.

“Into biting?”

Soap blushed. “I… I…”

“It’s a normal reaction, Love.” Ghost didn’t move. They were pressed against each other. “Do you need help?”

Soap just stared at him as Ghost undid his zipper. Maybe getting older came with personality changes. Maybe he was just more sadistic than he realized. Or he was looking for a distraction from earlier.

Soap made real pretty noises when Ghost got his hand around his cock. He wiped his mouth to use the little bit of blood and spit still around it as lube. Ghost stared down at Soap as he slowly moved his hands up and down. When Soap tried to look away, he grabbed his chin and made him look at him.

“Johnny. You killed someone today didn’t you?”

“It was on accident. I swear.”

“I know. I believe you. My little bodyguard huh. Protector of the innocent.” He sped up his hand and the way Soap’s thighs trembled wasn’t missed. Every time he reached the head, he’d play with his slit, using his precum to make the slide even better. “Never would’ve thought you’d have that in you. Bet you have a lot of secrets from me.”

“No. No, Ghost.” Soap grabbed his shoulders.

“You hid you were a perv. Getting off on being bitten.” Ghost spoke calmly to him, watching those ocean blue eyes fill up with tears. “Broke your necklace you were so desperate. So desperate for me.” He slowed his hand and Soap keened. “You were delicious by the way.”

Soap thrust up into his hand and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Maybe I should feed off you more often. Litter your neck with bites.” Ghost sank to his knees and deepthroated him. He forced Soap to be still since it had been a while since he had done this. He bobbed his head once he had adjusted and he purred around him when Soap finally came.

Soap was mumbling something and suddenly Ghost’s skin burned. He yanked back with a snarl and sank his nails into Soap’s hips, making him cry out.

“Do not bring up religion right now.”

“Sorry.” Soap squeaked out.

“You’re lucky you tasted good.” Ghost got up with a huff.

203 notes · View notes

corn-fanfiction · 5 months

Text

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (Mark Hoffman x F!Reader Pt. 9)

(Pt. 8)(Pt. 10)

Rating: M

TAGS: language/brief mention of canon typical violence and gore/past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader's life is maybe becoming less normal/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/Detective Gibson is his own tw

Mark has to take the night to cool the fuck off. When he leaves your place he is no position to back to the precinct to talk to the chief, and if he goes to his other job, he’ll likely do something irresponsible and needlessly violent. Like kill. And killing is distasteful.

It’s times like these that, despite his better judgment, he misses John. Misses his wisdom, despite the hypocrisy of it.

So, with no other options, Mark grabs the pistol from his apartment, his leather gloves, and heads for the warehouse.

The caution tape is still up and Mark is surprised until he remembers- this is still an active crime scene, despite the fact that no one is there now. It’s maybe been 24 hours since he and you had arrived just as Ted was being wheeled out.

You…he can’t think of you for too long before his pulse begins to race- for multiple reasons.

Instead he focuses on the crime scene, lifting the tape and stepping carefully into the warehouse. He never actually made it inside, though he’d gotten some of the information from the other cops between then and now.

He steps around dried puddles of blood, areas barricaded by tiny flags and string. Those aren’t his concern, anyway. He has few thoughts for Ted or even the trap itself- until he sees one of the mechanisms.

It’s a blade, still affixed to its contraption that hasn’t been taken in for evaluation yet. Now, Mark didn’t see the body as it was being taken, but he knew now that, while they were included on the stretcher, his arms and legs were severed. And the blade in front of Mark was sharp enough, precise enough, to cut through without any dramatic blood splattering.

Fine metal. Sturdy metal. Metal chosen specifically for a job like this. Which means this person knows what they’re doing, and has the means to do it.

He pokes around further, sidestepping into an adjoining hallway. Regardless of reputation or moonlighting, Mark is proud of his skills as a detective. He got there before John, and even with the crooked system, he’d like to think he could still land the job on merit alone.

Like here, for instance, he zeroes in on a track of footprints among the dust and grime that have obviously already been observed, judging by other police equipment and prints. But he goes slightly cold at slightly deeper indentation. Whoever this was favors their left foot. The right print is too flat, a purely vertical step as opposed to the left heel to toe.

Whoever this is has a right foot prosthetic.

He could be wrong. He hopes he is. But he’s also not foolish enough to believe in coincidences and that’s the only other option.

But if it’s who he’s thinking…why? Why would this person go after Ted? Presumably, the two of you have had no interactions. But that’s a foolish thought as well. Among the useful avenues of thinking John would provide was the truth that more people know people you know than not. Or, at the very least, it’s a safe assumption.

He needs to check on you anyway. What’s the harm in asking about the last time you went to a hospital?

Mark texts you. Not calls. Texts.

It sets off alarms in your head but mostly you’re just happy to finally hear from him, two days later. He asks to meet and you suggest work before your shift, knowing Gibson will leave as soon as he drops you off. Mark agrees.

You can’t help it. You put a little more effort into your appearance. You know he doesn’t mind; he’s seen you at your worst. But you’re giddy and you know you’ll have to hide it. Doing your makeup is a nice outlet for that energy.

Strangely enough, you don’t mind getting a ride from Gibson. The earlier you get to work, the longer you’ll have with Mark. When you step outside, Gibson is leaning against his car, arms crossed, watching something above the roof of your building. When you stand by the passenger side door, you follow his eyeline, you find a murder of crows standing in a line.

You turn your head to him in slow doubt.

“Um…big fan of birds?”

He shrugs. “Black birds. Anyway, I was surprised to get your text. An hour earlier?”

“I’m opening and covering for Gerri. Appreciate you getting here.”

The oddly kind words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them, and they sound convincing enough that Gibson cocks a brow.

“I’m touched. Get in.”

The ride is quiet, which is fine by you. But when he pulls up to the nearly empty parking lot, you both immediately notice Mark’s cruiser. You bite your tongue to suppress the curse that almost slips out.

“Well well well. Shall we go say hello?”

You scowl at him.

“We’re allowed to see each other.”

“Opening early? You’re a good liar.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, exiting the vehicle. He follows suit.

“Seriously, Gibson, back off.”

It gets worse when Mark gets out of his car.

“Motherfuck…” you mumble. You turn into yourself slightly, prepping for a fistfight. You don’t, however, slow down before stopping next to Mark, pulling his head down to give him a kiss on the cheek. You feel the corner of his mouth crinkle into a smile.

“Play nice,” you whisper before pulling away.

“Hoffman. How’s indefinite suspension treating you?”

“Good. I’ll keep your seat warm.”

“Assuming I fuck up bad enough for me to get there. Just enjoy your time on the bench.” He nods at you. “Pick you up at lunch.”

Before you can protest, Gibson is getting back into his car and peeling out of the parking lot. You exhale and Mark puts a hand on your lower back.

“Missed you.”

He pulls you in for a kiss. You reciprocate, of course, but you frown when you pull away.

“Don’t antagonize him. Just let him do his job. He’s harmless.”

“Pain in my ass.”

You walk towards the restaurant.

“Have you talked to the chief yet?”

You knock on the front doors and Gerri lets you in.

“Hey, hot shot,” they greet Mark.

“Mornin’, Gerri.”

You take Mark to a corner table, the same table he took when he first came in to watch you. You both sit.

“So, the chief.”

“Right,” he sighs. “Going in tomorrow. Wanted to give him some time.”

“Wanted him to see how much they need you?” You remark with a sly smile. Mark chuckles and grabs one of your hands on the table.

“Something like that.”

He’s got this look in his eyes. Some depth that you can’t decide if it’s thoughtfulness or concern.

“Like?”

He lowers his voice but only a little. The only other people are the openers, and no one cares when an employee brings in a significant other or family member. One of the other waitresses will sometimes bring in her 2 year old to sit until the babysitter can get her.

But Mark’s being reasonably cautious.

“I went back to the crime scene, poked around.”

“Isn’t that what they say perpetrators do? Go back to the scene of the crime? What if you’d gotten caught?”

“You’re a regular detective. No, I know their shifts.”

You pull back your hand and crack your finger joints as a tic.

“What did you find?”

“The usual.”

He waves it away but you know that can’t be true. He’s also not looking at you.

“Mark.” He taps the table. “Mark, don’t lie to me.”

He looks at you and sighs again. “Sorry, you’re right. But you’re not gonna like it when I can’t tell you everything.”

“Then just tell me what you can and we’ll take it from there.”

He makes a sound in his throat. He’s not convinced, but he caves anyway. “Alright, lemme ask you a question. You been to the doctor recently? For anything?”

You stutter. “Um, just my GP for a checkup in June. Why?”

“What’s your doctor’s name?”

“Dr. Shane Campbell. Why?” Realization dawns on your face. “Wait, you’re saying a doctor did this?”

“He shakes his head. “That’s not-“

“But that’s what you’re thinking, right? Unless you’re looking for a recommendation.”

“See, this is why-“

“Oh, don’t even go there.”

“I cannot in good conscience accuse someone of something like that until I have any evidence at all.”

“And what if you’re right and this is a person I need to look out for?”

“Listen to me. Nothing, nothing is gonna happen to you without me knowing. No one is gonna go near you. And if you ever feel unsafe you let me know and I’ll be there.”

They’re meant to be comforting words, and you know that once you calm down you’ll be able to hear them as such, but for now, you’re bitter.

“It’s not fair that you get to know this and I don’t.”

“Maybe. But that’s how it has to be right now.”

He sees your scathing look at the wall over his shoulder. “Hey, look at me. Can you trust that I know what I’m talking about?”

Of course you can. But you hate not being in control. It’s why you keep your life small. Everything is tight and compact. You can control that. And you’re not used to relinquishing any of that control.

But who’s ever been there to offer?

You sigh. Nod. Pull Mark in for another kiss. His fingers graze along your jaw and you break it yet again before either of you get too into it. You put your forehead to his.

“Why were you out there when you knew Gibson would see?” You do not miss the attempt to hide a smirk. “Holy shit. You did it on purpose. You were showing off.”

“Maybe I was.”

“You’re horrible,” you smile.

“Yeah, maybe I am.”

#mark hoffman #saw fanfic #fanfiction #mark hoffman x reader #saw franchise

40 notes · View notes

mutable-manifestation · 1 year

Text

The Heart of the Matter Ch. 7

Chapter 1 (Parts 1-3), Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

my understanding of the Guardians of the Universe is that they want to maintain peace in the universe but they’re also kind of assholes, and did some shady shit and had their emotions removed for a while? And then ended up using time fuckery to summon younger Guardians for fresh perspective to help run the corps better/be less asshole-ish.

Idk if Hal in cannon trusts them, but here Hal knows they did some shady shit but also knows they brought in newbies re:time travel to try & be less shady. And he trusts them to mean well even if their methods can be shit, so that’s why he’s trusting that they actually want to help.

(spoiler alert, the Guardians a few billion years ago already decided torture-slavery was a great idea, so bringing in newbies that are their past selves isn’t actually all that helpful)

***

Hal senses the incoming signal long before it arrives in the Batcave to punch him in the face.

He thinks it’s just another Green Lantern, at first.

As much as Oa’s offer of help had been just that - an offer - they’d also tried to impress a sense of importance and urgency on him. That whatever was wrong with Red Hood needed to be managed sooner rather than later. They’d insisted on it, making vague allusions to the danger of leaving it too long.

But Hal had given the Bats a few extra hours to cool off, just in case. So he figures, hey, maybe Oa got antsy and decided he was taking too long.

He feels like an ass putting the guy in a cage when he tries to bolt on them, especially when he looks so terrified.

He does his best to push the feeling aside; the Guardians had warned him that, among their guesses for the cause of whatever was up with him, the symptoms might go beyond simple emotional dysregulation to include psychosis, delusions, and possible hallucinations - among who knows what else.

That he may not be capable of thinking clearly.

Still, he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to restrain him.

Aaaaand of course Bats’ attempt at being comforting falls about as short as is possible.

Hal doesn’t get a chance to reassure the guy. He’s too distracted by the other Lantern; whoever it is is closing in faster than expected.

Closer now, they shine brighter than any Lantern ever has against his senses. He can just feel the faintest brushes of ‘protectiveness,’ even.

Somehow.

Then the only thing he’s feeling is the fist ramming into his nose.

He drops Hood and slams into the far wall, mind swimming with pain and confusion and betrayal.

Except when he looks up he isn’t met with another Green Lantern.

Instead, he meets eyes with a stranger - some kind of glowy meta with a royalty theme or an alien he just isn’t recognizing.

It rubs Hal the wrong way, how he looks at him.

Like Hood had, almost. Plenty of disgust, plenty of horror, but all of the fear is swapped out for rage.

It had felt wrong enough caging Hood, even if he was only trying to help. But now this….

Well there’s an unknown in the batcave holding their possibly-ill-with-a-space-disease-and-or-parasite brother and just attacked their ally, so of course the bats attack, cutting off whatever the unknown might’ve been about to say in favor of avoiding getting punched.

Just as well, Hal figures. They can talk once he’s got the two of them restrained and the uninvited guest isn’t possibly-about-to-punch-someone-else.

And yeah, okay, he also might have a broken nose and not be in the best mood about it - and holy shit does the guy have a mean right hook.

But in his defense, Bats’ other kids are putting themselves at risk taking swings at the guy. If Hal just stands there and watches because the guy ‘might want to talk, actually’ now, Bats’ll kill him.

He waits for them to get clear before he heads in baseball-bat-first, hoping to herd the guy back into a nearby corner so he can more easily get a cage around him - something made a lot harder by a flying target.

Instead, the guy takes Hood and flees through the ceiling.

Hal stops his attack just in time to avoid battering the cave walls.

He curses under his breath, floating back down to poke at his tender nose, flinching at the sharp sting of it - healing, of course, but still plenty sore.

“What exactly did Hood say to you earlier,” he starts, interrupting whatever Batman was about to say to Oracle. “Because I’m beginning to think something is wrong. And not in the ‘space disease and/or parasite’ kind of way. Unless space diseases and/or parasites that mimic Green Lantern ring signals can somehow give people phasing powers - and whatever else that guy’s deal was. Because he gave off the same feeling Hood did, and he looked more pissed than scared. Which reeeeeally isn’t lining up with my expectations here.”

“We can learn more after we find the unknown and rescue Hood,” Batman answers, turning back towards Oracle.

He is, again, interrupted before he can speak.

“He just was rescued!” Nightwing all but howls. “From us! What Jason said earlier was that he thought your ring was a damn soul! If that’s the second person you’ve sensed like that, what if he was right!?”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Red Robin yells, throwing his hands up in frustration before Hal could formulate a response. “I mean, what, do we not have souls?”

“Little Wing is still in a fragile state from the pits! For all we know his soul is just- exposed or something and YOU-” Nightwing whirls on Hal, poking a finger towards his face “-are some kind of- some kind of soul-battery using necromancer!”

Hal grimaces at that, looking at his ring and feeling more than a little unease.

He really hopes this is all some kind of misunderstanding.

“We can talk about this later. It is far more likely that Red Hood was just kidnapped than rescued. We need to find him now.”

“They’re in Gotham.”

Oracle and Hal trade looks at the accidental jinx.

Hal can clearly see the blinking red dot on the open screen, so he explains. “I can still sense them. Lanterns have a pretty big radius for sensing each other, and this new guy is…bright, for lack of a better word. Like staring into the sun - y’know, without the whole ‘searing pain and vision damage’ thing.”

“He certainly didn’t travel far,” she muses. “If he can sense you back, it’s possible he wants to talk.”

“Other than the initial blow to Green Lantern, the unknown made no attempt to fight back,” Robin notes. “Merely dodging.”

“He: opened mouth. Possibly: wanted to talk.” Orphan adds.

“Sure has a funny way of showing it,” Hal rubs his nose - mostly healed, thankfully.

“Yes, well, you did have my brother in a cage,” Nightwing says cooly.

Hal winces

“I thought he was having a health crisis! I was trying to help!”

“Help by-!”

“Take it easy,” Oracle interrupts. “Jordan might’ve caged him, but we didn’t exactly do anything about it either. We all messed up today. The path to hell is paved with good intentions, as they say. Let’s see if we can undo some of the road work, hm?”

She pulls up two feeds - a security camera inside of a café and one watching an intersection.

“His signal is coming from a populated café, plenty of foot traffic and no distress calls in the area - a regular Gotham miracle. I glimpsed him passing through the corner of the street cam in civvies, likely to the outdoor seating area, given the coffee he was holding. He also appeared to be talking to someone off-screen. So either he managed to get away from the possible-kidnapper, or we’re made and the person is probably friendly. Either way, we have an excuse to be there in civvies. I could go for some coffee. But first,” she spins around, putting her back to the batcomputer. “Let’s talk Lantern Corps.”

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

Hal explains what he knows about the Lantern Rings, about the battery, about Oa.

He…doesn’t know much. Certainly not enough to sate the endless curiosity of someone like Gotham’s heroes.

He knows how the rings work, the general ‘hows’ of it - that they’re based on willpower, that they are largely self-sustaining, that they very rarely need a recharge on Oa.

He doesn’t know details.

‘Power source’ is way too vague. Way, way too vague when ‘literal souls’ has a possibility of being the answer.

Even if it is, like, a 0.00000000001% chance possibility. Hal would like a solid zero, please and thanks.

(Signal asks what it says about the Guardians' intentions for Hood if the rings are powered by souls, which sets everyone even more on edge.

And Hal…knows the Guardians care about peace in the Universe. He isn’t sure how far they would go to achieve that, but he already knows the answer is ‘too far.’

Knows when the rings were made. Knows the ‘younger’ Guardians they brought in to improve things were from after that time.

…He really hopes Glowstick Guy actually just also has a space parasite.)

Spoiler suggests asking ‘Mr Space Prince.’

They can all agree the guy probably has at least some of the answers they need, here, but they’re all hesitant to go charging in.

They don’t want to make Hood feel trapped.

(Nobody wants to make the same mistake a second time. Even without Glowstick’s intervention, it only took a little distance from the situation for them to start berating themselves about jumping the gun.

The sense of urgency the Guardians have given him - and that he had in turn given the Bats - was a lot more suspicious with this new context. Artificial. Insidious, if Hood’s feeling about his ring was correct.

And oh wow Hal had never wanted a Bat to be wrong as bad as he did right now, a chill of unease trailing up his spine at the thought.)

Instead, they contact the other Lanterns - no information about the ongoing case, just framing it as Batman’s incessant Need To Know Things getting the better of him.

All of the others were off-planet when the party happened, Hal being the only Lantern that could make it - the schedules wouldn’t line up for everyone to meet him at once no matter how they worked it. With so many people in the League, barring high-level threats? Thems the breaks - so they’d intended to meet Hood individually at a later time.

This meant none of them knew what had happened yet, so no worries about them reporting back Oa.

Which would be very important to avoid if it turned out the Guardians had….

Well, suffice to say it was a good thing they were in the dark. Where Hal would like to keep them until he knew for sure one way or another.

None of them know any more than Hal does.

Judging by the cameras around the café, Hood is still there.

They want to give him more time to cool off from the inevitable…maybe anger, maybe fear. They doubt any of their presences would help at this point.

But answers might. He’d been terrified not knowing why he was so scared.

When they ask to run some tests on his ring, Hal offers it up willingly.

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

Tests don’t help.

Whatever energy the ring gives off interferes with the scanners, leaving them with nothing but junk data.

Signal’s vision is of no use - it’s just a ring, stable in his vision as any other inanimate object, if a bit brighter. But that would be expected even without souls being thrown into the mix.

And of course, with their ever-incredible luck, the JLD are all unreachable.

Two hours later and they haven’t learned anything they didn’t already know.

Two hours closer to the Guardians learning something is up; a disastrous outcome if it is a worst-case scenario.

Hal can’t join them, of course, since Hood wants to keep his secret identity a secret.

However, Nightwing promptly vetoes any of them going.

“We are going to call him,” Nightwing doesn’t demand, he states. “We are going to apologize, and we are going to ask if he’s willing to talk - in person or otherwise. We are not going to make him trust us any less than he already does - assuming there’s anything left to damage.”

The last part is a mutter, but everyone hears him loud and clear, grimacing or fidgeting their weapons or shifting from foot-to-foot.

They make the call on the batcomputer - after making Hal swear on his life to remain silent, lest he set him off somehow.

For all that they called, all of them are shocked when Hood actually picks up.

“I know what’s going on, if you’re willing to actually listen to what I have to say this time.”

A collective wince.

“Little Wing, I’m s-”

“Save it.” Hood snaps venomously, cutting off Nightwing’s attempt to apologize. “The only reason I am talking to you instead of shooting you all in the fucking kneecaps and promptly fucking off for the rest of eternity is because there is some major shit happening right now and Danny insists on trying the ‘talking things out’ option first. Civvies. My apartment. 30 minutes. Bring everyone, and tell Green Lantern his ass had better be there. And if it turns out he knew anything about this? May God have mercy on his soul, because I won’t.”

And on that incredibly ominous note, the call cuts off.

“Well that went well,” Hal deadpans.

“Considering my kneecaps are still bullet free, I’d say it actually did,” Red Robin says, voice tinged with disbelief. “Given what he was like at his worst and everything that just happened? That was downright civil.”

“Not instilling a lot of confidence here, Red.”

“Then take confidence in your continued cluelessness,” Robin offers from the base of the stairs. “And hurry up, we have a meeting to make.”

***

Gee, I wonder what the JLD could be so busy with

Up Next: Jason gets the scoop on the Lanterns, freaks out, debates the merits reverting to the ol' head-in-a-bag technique. The apartment meeting happens. GL & the batfam get to have a turn with the panic (and round 2 of beating themselves up)

Tags:

@skulld3mort-1fan @kyrianclawraith @jesimilu @bleuyellow93 @ocearnawrites @undead-essence @violet-catsarelife @sunsetdew0101 @tsukihimeyfan @the-legal-shipper @spideypoolalways @mariendall @jesus-camp-the-sequel @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @akikoyuii @mrowsters @do3y @aikoiya @joaniejustwokeup @wwwwyamd @fox-sama97 @britcision @tealty @apersond @v-inari

#dpxdc #ghost cores are Green Lantern rings au #jason todd #danny phantom #hal jordan #batfam #bone breakage

149 notes · View notes

sinsiriuslyemo · 5 months

Note

So I heard you're opening requests again, but there's no rush on this. I read the imagine where Frederick's patient was a sketch artist who told him her feelings for him but he respectfully turned her down to which she accepted. Do you think you could write one for Rafa but the reader is left jilted and heartbroken? The person is also a secret admirer who leaves gifts for him

“Who is that from?” Olivia asked as she eyed the clear box of what appeared to be chocolate covered almonds with a neatly fastened purple ribbon around it. You lowered your eyes in an attempt to hide the pink that was surely making its way quickly to your cheeks as your boss — ADA Rafael Barba — shrugged his shoulders and picked the gift up.

You hailed a cab, went straight home, changed into your pajamas, and put on your go-to pick-me-up movie before sinking onto your sofa. With a blanket over your lap, and your heart broken and bleeding in your chest, you reached for the chocolate-covered almonds, finally opening them.

“I honestly have no idea,” he replied, examining the box for the fourth time that day. “Nor do I know how whoever sent them knew that chocolate covered almonds are one of my favorites.”

“You got a secret admirer, Rafael?” Sonny inquired, dimpled smirk taking over his face as he sat in one of the seats in front of the ADA’s desk.

“That or someone’s trying to kill me, I suppose,” Rafael mumbled, setting the box down once more and beginning to listen to Olivia’s briefing on their most recent case while you set his long-awaited coffee down on his desk. “Thank you,” he said softly to you, glancing in your direction with a smile before he gave the Lieutenant his attention again.

You’d been working at the DA’s office for nearly two years as a paralegal, and had always seen the illustrious ADA in the hallways as he made his way to or from the courthouse downstairs. At first, you’d been content just to admire him from afar — even sometimes volunteering to work on one of his cases or sneaking down to the courthouse to watch him in action, though you always stayed near the back and ducked out immediately after the verdict was read. You grew to not only admire him, but begin to wonder what he might be like outside of the DA’s office. Night after night you would find yourself wondering various things about him. If he had a ritual when he arrived home from a long day. Whether he enjoyed leisurely reading the paper on Sunday mornings or preferred to immerse himself in a book. Did he prefer scotch or bourbon after a tough case? You always guessed the former.

Once you’d even followed him to Forlini’s and “bumped into him,” hoping he would invite you to join him for a drink, and he had, gesturing to the stool beside his and signalling the bartender for you to order yourself a drink. It was the first time you’d gotten to know him as Rafael, and not ADA Barba or Counselor as you so often called him. Though the majority of what the two of you had talked about was work-related, the few times you exchanged personal tidbits or anecdotes was enough to make him all the more intriguing to you.

Later that month, after you’d chastised yourself for being a borderline stalker and vowed never to follow him to a bar again, he — unprompted — asked you to stay late with him one night to work on a case. He’d been perfectly professional, and so had you… except for the fact that you fell in love with Rafael Barba that night.

"Y/N!" The sound of his voice, even partially muffled by the walls between his office and yours across the hall, made the downy hairs on your arm stand as the skin beneath developed tiny bumps. Inhaling deeply, you let out the air as you stood and walked past your fellow interns in the tiny, shared office that you all occupied to cross the hall and peek into his much larger office.

"Yes, Mr Barba?" You found him in the same manner you normally did, reclined in his chair with his feet kicked up on his desk and an open file in his hand. One hand held the manilla folder up in front of him while the free one squeezed and smooshed the stress ball he kept in his drawer.

"Would you do me a favor and dig out the files from the Kellerman case?" he asked, eyes still moving over the file in his hand.

"The one from last month?"

"That's the one," he answered, still not looking up from his reading material.

"Absolutely," you said, dutifully going to the file room down the hall and filling out a request slip. You chewed on your bottom lip, wringing your hands in front of you as you paced from one side of the hallway to the other, waiting for the case file. Taking a deep breath, you let it blow past your lips in a shudder, trying to calm your nerves.

In the two years with the DA's office, your crush on ADA Barba had never made it difficult to work with him. Sure, your heart would pound until your entire body thrummed with your pulse. Yes, your skin would often grow so hot that you were convinced it would sizzle should you splash water on it. But that didn't mean that you couldn't be just as professional as you'd always been. Even if one look into his green eyes would send you into a tailspin, making you feel as though you were in the middle of a tornado, with the entire world spinning around you.

"Y/N?" you heard from the clerk and blinked as you gave him a thankful smile before you took the file and made your way back down the hall. Knocking on ADA Barba's door, you carefully opened it and poked your head inside.

He still sat at his desk, but his feet had found the floor once more and his elbows and forearms pressed against the end of the desk as one hand scribbled notes on a legal pad. His lips were perfectly puckered in concentration and the little wrinkle between his brows prompted the corner of your own lips to curl upward.

"Mr Barba? I have the file you requested," you said, ignoring the flapping wings in your belly as you crossed the threshold and held out the file.

"Thank you. Would you mind staying and looking over that file for any similarities to the Efferman case?"

The sound of his voice rolled over your skin like a river of feathers that had been warmed by the blazing sun, raising goosebumps over your flesh. You licked your dry lips, wiping your free hand against your skirt. Your eyes fell on the hand not moving over the legal pad, following the thick vein that started as two blue lines below his knuckles then merged into one and ran down the center of his hand, disappearing again at his wrist.

"Y/N?"

You blinked, shaking your head and planting a smile on your face. "Yes, I'm so sorry. Absolutely, Mr Barba, I can do that."

"Let's set up on the couch, I could use a change of scenery," he said, dropping his pen on the yellow pad and standing.

His chest swelled with a deep inhale, eyes still on the yellow notepad as the air came out in a huff, his cheeks puffing outward with the noise. Taking up both the pad he'd been writing on and the file he'd been referencing, he made his way to the couch on the other side of the door and sat down. Glancing up at you as you sat next to him, he offered a brief smirk before putting his attention on the notepad on the coffee table.

Sitting so close to him allowed his musky cologne to surround you, overwhelming your senses until your head was swimming. Blinking several times, you cleared your throat and crossed your legs, opening the file and beginning to read. You tried to concentrate on the words in the file, but damn it if his scent wasn't driving you insane. Biting the inside of your cheek, you curled your toes inside your shoes and clenched your jaw. You could feel your shirt beginning to stick to your back as a light sheen of sweat built up there.

You could hear his breathing, slow and steady as you cast a sideways glance, trying not to stare at the peppering of grey he had beneath his temples. Why did he have to be so handsome?

"How are you doing in law school?" he asked, eyes still on his work as he annotated in the margin of his notes.

Your mouth fell open as you tried to articulate an answer, when your voice refused to come out, you cleared your throat. "Pretty good. I'm actually supposed to be taking the bar this weekend."

"Good for you," he mumbled absently, underlining a sentence before he turned to look at you. "You nervous?"

You blinked again, the only seamless thing you could manage to do. "Very."

"Don't be," he answered with a gentle smirk. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"T-thank you."

He knitted his brows. "Are you okay?" Your mouth fell open again, eyes widening slightly as you nodded.

In truth, your mind was still reeling from the conversation you'd overheard him having with Lieutenant Benson and Detective Carisi. Sure, he hadn't necessarily said anything bad about the chocolate covered almonds that you had snuck onto his desk. But it was the fact that they sat just as you'd left them that worried you, unopened. Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you gestured to the clear, plastic box with the purple bow with your chin.

"I thought you liked chocolate covered almonds," you blurted out.

He furrowed his brows, turning his head slightly as his eyelids slid down suspiciously. "How did you know that was what they were?"

"Um…" Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit! "I overheard you talking to Lieutenant Benson earlier."

He seemed to only then remember that, yes, you had been in the room. In fact, it was not five seconds after he commented on the anonymous gift that you'd brought him his coffee. "That's right."

Well, him clearly not remembering your presence certainly bodes well for you. Bowing your head to hide your frown, you began to read the file in front of you while trying to calm the tears welling in your eyes. A heat settled on your cheeks and spread to your neck as you tried desperately not to blink so as not to ruin the case file in your hands with your tears.

"Sorry, I've been kind of in my own world today," he said, apparently oblivious to your efforts to not cry all over the Kellerman case. "Haven't been much use to anyone, trust me — hey…"

Oh great.

You flinched away from his touch when the backs of his fingers came to wipe on your cheek. "I'm sorry, did I… did something happen? Are you alright?"

You shook your head, holding a hand up towards him. A laugh escaped you as the water in your lower lids finally poured over, and you quickly wiped them away. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look completely fine," he replied.

You laughed again, unable to help it. You must've looked like a lunatic and kept your eyes averted so that you wouldn't have to see him see you like that.

"Come on, what's wrong? Something is clearly bothering you." His hand patted your shoulder before settling on the back of the couch.

"It's stupid, really." You tried to convince yourself that there was no one to blame except yourself. You had been the one that indulged in the fantasy of him feeling the same way that you did. You had allowed yourself to sink deeper into the feelings you had for him. You were the hopeless fool here, not him. "I'm in love with someone who apparently doesn't even know I exist."

You hadn't meant to tell him what was actually wrong, and judging by the surprised look on his face, he hadn't expected you to be so candid. Still, he cleared his throat and offered a sympathetic smile. "I don't know what to say."

You bobbed your shoulders, keeping your eyes on the file in your hands. "You don't have to say anything."

"I mean, even if I did, it would hardly be appropriate," he mumbled.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line with the chocolates, I just wanted to do something nice for you and —”

“Oh…” His eyes went from you to the plastic box of chocolate, back to you. “You mean you… those are…”

You closed your eyes, wishing the floor would open up so that you could happily sink into the depths of hell and be done with it. The fact that he was clearly at a loss for words to the point of not even completing a single sentence was enough to make you wish you could just throw yourself from the window.

“Y/N, I’m your boss,” he said after a moment. “I’m so sorry, and I’m flattered, I —”

“It’s fine, can we just forget I said anything?” You were practically begging for a reset of the last ten minutes, but the look on his face indicated that it wouldn’t be so easy.

“I wish we could, but…” He gave a sympathetic smile and somehow that made you feel ever worse. “I’m sorry, I wish it were different, but it would be completely unethical for us to be anything other than colleagues.”

You nodded, ignoring for now the way your vision blurred. “Of course, I completely understand.”

He hesitated for a moment, as though there was something else he wanted to say. “And I’m so very sorry to have to do this, but I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to accept those now that I know where they came from.” He gestured to the box of chocolates. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, truly. I think you’re lovely, really I do, I just —”

“You don’t…” You chuckled pathetically through the tears that had finally begun streaming down your face. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it, it’s fine.”

Except it wasn’t fine. In fact, it was pretty far from fine. It was all you could do to keep yourself from sobbing out loud, relegating your tears to slow, silent streaks down each of your cheeks. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise; why would someone as cultured and sophisticated as Rafael ever be interested in someone like you?

“Would it be okay if I went home?” You tried to keep the desperation from your voice, but it was about as useful as the chocolate almonds.

“Yes, of course. Go ahead, I can finish up here,” he replied. You were sure he thought he hid it well, but you could see the slightest touch of irritation in his eyes at having to go over the casefile himself.

Good, you found yourself thinking as you set both files down on the coffee table. If you had to face being rejected, the least he could do was finish researching his current case himself. The strange satisfaction was gone the moment you picked up the unopened box of chocolate covered almonds, and walked out of his office. You had managed to get all the way to the elevator before letting yourself break down completely, thankful for the late hour so that you could spend the entire ride down to the lobby alone with your tears. When the doors slid open again, you were just wiping under your eyes, sniffing hard and opening your mouth to exhale.

#raul esparza #raúl esparza #writing #fan fic #rafael barba #law and order svu #request #askbox

30 notes · View notes

fitpacs · 24 days

Note

Oi tumblr user fitpacs, I hope you’re doing well! Morale’s been running a little low for me but ur posts have really helped to cheer me up!!!! so here’s some angst

I think if Fit’s secret ever came out, the only one of his close friends who would turn against him would be Tubbo. I feel like Phil and Bagi would trust that he had his reasons/ask for more details (and Phil hearing that it was Fit’s chance to escape 2b2t would immediately be like Oh Yeah, Valid); Mike might be a bit harder to defuse but I think he’d come around eventually. But Tubbo? Tubbo’s very much a “fuck the motive” type of guy, plus with his growing distance from Fit, feeling left out from the secret, and how data is implied to be important for his lore too, learning that Fit has already taken and ‘sold off’ his data might kill the Morning Crew once and for all

this is so interesting for me to think about! for me, qtubbo is very much a ‘act now think later’ kind of guy towards everyone except his daughter, because he feels like he’s easily interchangeable in everyone’s life except for sunny’s - that’s why everything he does for sunny (in canon) is thought out and consequences minimised; see, for example, the creation lore, as well as qtubbo randomly calling fobo the egg hospital and calling sunny the special, number one patient.

so yeah i feel like he will feel betrayed when he does eventually find out about it all, it will bring back all of those feelings of him feeling inadequate and that fit and pac always like each other better than they like him, and that they secretly want tubbo to leave them alone (which, lbr, is the real reason he tries so hard to break them up, he feels like if they get so wrapped up in each other, he won’t have anyone else - which is also why i think qtubbo now pushes so hard for fobo, he wants to feel just as important to qfoolish as he can, just in case the morning crew - in his eyes - falls apart; fit and pac are together and have their two kids, bagi has tina and empanada, phil has his two kids who are his entire world, mike is always wrapped up in his building projects with richas and never really seeks out company… and who does that leave on their own? again?

and the real nail in the coffin for qtubbo’s feeling of betrayal will be when he finds out his data has been passed on - stolen from him and passed onto whoever the fuck (he won’t stick around to find out), he’ll take sunny and isolate the two of them for a while, knowing that he can only really trust his daughter now. he’s always felt like the morning crew like each other better than they like him, and the original members - fit and pac - both knew that tubbo’s data was stolen from him without consent and didn’t think to even run it past him? that just amplifies what he already feels. they don’t care about him, just about helping each other. yes, fit and pac’s data is passed on too, along with other members on the island, but the couple actively chose that ending - they would’ve had the option to take their data out of the pile, but they took that choice away from tubbo, and that just makes him feel like they don’t care about him at all.

and whatever is done with the data is out of his control, yes, maybe they’ll be teleported away, maybe they’ll be killed, but nothing will stay the same - qtubbo will be pulled away from the one being on the island he trusts without question and the one being that he needs to keep living on the island without going insane (sunny), and morning crew will most definitely be destroyed in tubbo’s mind as they haven’t only destroyed tubbo’s life by deciding the course of it just for fit’s own gain, but also destroyed sunny’s life as the one person she needs, the one person she has on the island that is always on her side, is ripped away from her.

#WOO BOY I CAN TALK ABOUT QSMP ALL DAMN DAY HUH #also thank you for the lovely beginning of that ask anon #i’m glad i can help a little! :)#qtubbo #qsunny #qfit #qpac #morning crew

15 notes · View notes

mad-c1oud · 3 months

Note

Idk if the eggs technically count as half of a duo but "I won't let anything happen to you" with either slime & Tallulah or slime & flippa perhaps?

CHARLIE AND TALLULAH YES YES YES I LOVE YOU ANON

did anyone else see that she left charlie a letter because she MISSED HIM kill me just do it I can't go on like this let them hang out, let them reunite let them heal-

+++++

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Charlie pulls Tallulah to his chest, footsteps sure even in the pitch-black of the hallway. His sobrina doesn’t really need the reassurance; Tallulah is being braver than him in all honestly, her breath even and calm despite his own racing heartbeat. He’s her tio and an adult so he needs to take the lead here, though. This isn’t a place for eggs, this is hell.

They really outdid themselves for Pomme’s birthday this month. Someone needs to take away Baghera’s scaryfrenchman.png away, though. It’s a little overdone this time around. Doesn’t stop him from screaming heroically when another popup of one jumpscares the living daylights out of them. Charlie is so fucking brave and tough it's insane. Truly incredible.

“Oh my fucking god. You’re so lucky I was here to protect you from that guy, ‘Llulah. Jeez-us.” Tallulah giggles in his ear, the sound like music and a harsh juxtaposition to the groaning and crying someone is pumping in through speakers.

It’s not often he gets to hang out with her one-on-one, but the egg had spotted him lingering near the entrance to Pomme’s Haunted Hospital during the party and grabbed his hand, asking if he’d go with her because she was nervous. Who is Charlie to turn down some Tallulah Time? He doesn’t question why she didn’t ask literally anyone else, just beyond happy she asked him.

“AH!” Charlie shrieks when a cardboard cutout of… oh my fucking god is that Melissa in a sexy and bloody nurse costume- “Tallulah let’s- let’s not look at that for too long, for both of our sanities, yeah?” The egg laughs as Charlie obscures her vision with a hand, navigating them around an OSHA-violating nurse and onto- oh nice, a morgue.

Charlie removes his hand and just stands in the doorway, egg at one hip and his hand at the other. He tries channeling his best disappointed Dadza before speaking into the space, “Okay, this is cliché even for me. Whoever is hiding in a body bag and totally one of the lockers, jig is up. Too easy.”

He waits for a long moment while Tallulah keeps laughing hard enough she has to use her inhaler. Charlie waits for her to catch her breath, happy and no longer scared shitless. As Tallulah calms down, the body bag near the doorway rustles and the actual Roier pokes his equally bloody head out, pouting.

“No fair, I got everyone else but you, Slime.” The spider hybrid whines, flopping back into the bag dramatically. Charlie checks to make sure Tallulah is good before walking into the room, approaching Roier to pat his head sympathetically. Ew. Sticky. He’s also wearing that nurse costume, of course. Should have guessed.

He continues past the other tables and the wall of body lockers, towards the next door as he talks, “You’ll get ‘em next time, big dawg. I’ll even set the next person up-”

“BOO!” Pac and Mike scream from their respective lockers, doors flying open to reveal them decked out to the nines in decomposing makeup. Charlie has a split second to notice Pac even took his prosthetic off for the bit, but a split second is all he gets, unfortunately.

Things go well after that! Charlie handles it well, of course.

Unrelated but Fit is going to kill him.

Five minutes later, after the panic and terror have worn off enough to realize what he’d done, Charlie has to be led out early by a Roier near tears laughing, Tallulah securely in his arms still as Pac clutches the back of his shirt, bloody nose leaving an appropriate trail of blood through the final rooms of the haunted house. Charlie is going to say he just helped decorate.

“S-see, mi eggy Sabrina, didn’t let anything happen to you...” Charlie mumbles into her mess of hair before turning around to check on Pac as they weave in and out of dark corridors and scary Frenchmen, "Now Pac on the other hand... or should I say leg."

That gets him a flick at one ear and laughter in the other one.

Oh well, they’ll try again next month. Together.

#qsmp #qsmp fic #qsmp tallulah #qsmp slimecicle #slimecicle #qsmp roier #this one got away from me...#not sorry I love them more than i can handle #mad writings

19 notes · View notes

sketchy-rosewitch · 1 year

Text

House of Wax Religon Headcanons

CW: Catholicism, Talk of religion, Abuse, religious abuse, physical abuse.

This is basically just what I believe the brothers beliefs are. I thought about it last night and decided to write it.

Bo Sinclair:

Catholic through and through, he never stopped believing in God. He also believes he will never be forgiven until the town is complete (kinda a cult mentality).

Thinks his Ma is in heaven and she talked to God and told him Bo wasn’t allowed up until he did everything she asked of him and stopped being a “problem child”

I think he and Vincent had to be those kids that had their parent sit between them during Mass, (my sister and I were those kids).

Definitely had fits on the way to Church cause Mass was boring and he didn’t wanna go. (My Church had a kids Mass but their church is small so in my opinion they didn’t have that)

Got the shit beat outta him a few times cause he knocked over some of the candles or decided to mess around with a kid in the pew in front of him.

Used to pray kneeling at his bed right after Trudy died but eventually stopped and just kinda lays awake at night talking to God.

He has a rosary in his suit pocket, bedroom, and in his truck.

Gets hymns stuck in his head sometimes and plays them on the piano (doesn’t have the same feel as the Church’s organ but it satisfies)

Struggles with internalized homophobia

Still genuflects, does the sign of the cross, and all that out of habit.

Goes to at least visit the Church on Sunday and he doesn’t “work” that day either.

Vincent:

Atheist: Doesn’t believe in a higher power.

He stopped believing in God around 14. It was honestly because of how his parents treated Bo and how Bo and him turned out.

If God existed why did he end up with half a face? Why didn’t God allow Bo and him to separate before birth? Would’ve saved them so much trouble..

Fell asleep during Mass a lot but no one ever noticed cause he mastered waking up when they had to stand or kneel or sit. (He’d fall asleep standing and kneeling too)

Since he doesn’t believe in God he doesn’t really have a moral compass (didn’t see the need for one after he started killing)

The only reason he is still doing what his Ma wanted is because Bo convinced him and it’s about the legacy. Someone eventually will stumble across the completed town and see who Trudy Sinclair truly was.

He honestly went back and forth with believing and not but after awhile he gave up the fight.

Never struggled with homophobia, he just kinda like sits there and vibes.

Lester Sinclair: Agnostic

Lester still has a rosary in his truck glove compartment but he doesn’t really believe in God, or any religion but he doesn’t NOT believe in God or any religion.

He just kinda exists and he knows his brothers exist.

Sometimes when he worries he prays to whoever will listen

He believes his Ma and Pa are somewhere awful and that’s all.

He was an alter boy. Was how he thought he could get his parents attention.

May or may not have broken wine cups, bowls, the water jar and more from being an alter boy.

Bo and Vincent managed to cheer him up after he thought he disappointed everyone by breaking things.

Used to talk to the old ladies behind him during Mass.

Honestly thought about being a priest for a bit but decided not to about a month later cause it looked like too much work.

Lester struggled slightly with internalized homophobia but I think he does in fact go by Yolo (Ik so 2012 of me) unironically and just decides that he’s gonna live the life he wants.

He gets hurt by judgey people but in the end it doesn’t matter.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #bo sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair headcanon #lester sinclair headcanons #lester sinclair

78 notes · View notes

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

Note

I know I’ve probably done enough yapping about stsg and how much I love them but but but but….. the way u talked about suguru being jealous when reader has a partner?? Simply because he wants to make sure that you’re being loved and cared for enough??? I’ll actually explode right now oh my god I’m so serious he’s so loving?? I’m gonna be perfectly honest if I was his bsf I would be completely insufferable because if you wanted me to spend even a moment apart from that man you would have to drag me away kicking and screaming HES SO WIFE MATERIAL AUGHHHHHHHH. Oh god but imagine him if reader was cheated on by their partner I need to see him feral and ANGRYYY 🙏🙏 -stsg anon :3333

^ stsg anon this was my live reaction reading this YOU’RE SO……. wow we are just FEEDING each other’s sugu obsession aren’t we 😭😭😭 AS WE SHOULD!!!!!

BUT NO OKOKOK I . this makes me a little insane. FIRST OFFFF i’m so glad u agree??? i just think it’s so vital that he isn’t some possessive douchebag who thinks you belong to him or whatever, he just has a very firm belief that you deserve the best and that happens to be Him LMAO. he knows you better than he knows himself, knows what makes you happy and what buttons not to push — so he really just wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with someone who’s making you uncomfortable, who can’t give you what you need… :<

tbh that might also be what pushes him into confessing because he’s like im RIGHT here. i can show you what you deserve. i would fold

BUT STSG ANON MY LOVE MY LIGHT THE CHEATING IDEA????????? GENIUS.

oh he would be fucking FERAL alright like genuinely i think that’s the only time you really see him Angry. i’ve talked abt this before but !! to me sugu really is the kinda guy who seems very chill and composed but the MOMENT his loved ones are involved he’s just Fuming. like. he’s soooo scary.

first off. i think he would just be in disbelief??? like he’d believe you INSTANTLY don’t get me wrong but his brain just physically can’t wrap itself around the fact that someone would cheat on you. ESPECIALLY someone who is just so undeserving of you????? he thinks you’re soooo out of their league so just . the idea of it …… he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t want to understand.

but okok so his mother instincts would definitely tell him to focus on comforting you first and foremost. he just has this really insatiable need to soothe you. so if you come to his house and you’re just sobbing then his immediate instinct isn’t ”im gonna kill whoever did this” (thats later lol), but ”i need to make sure they’re okay.”

ohhh and if you call him … he is RUNNING to your house asap. no matter how far away it is. if it’s close enough to walk i think you’d open the door to see him just sweating, panting etc etc bc he literally ran as fast as he could to get to you. sprinting down the street like his life depends on it ohhhh he’s so…

AND THEN he’s just. so soothing. soso gentle. makes you tea and lets you cling to him and urges you to get all the tears out. just rubbing your back and whispering little soothing murmurs into your ear :((( until you calm down. and THAT’S when he makes you tell him what’s wrong.

and ohhhhhhh boy….,,,,, stsg anon………… the way he would just silently go feral. like. you barely notice it. you’re probably too upset to. but something in his jaw tightens and his eyes go dark and his hold on you grows just a smidge tighter, like that protective instinct inside him is crawling out of his skin…

it’s a little tough but i think he keeps it all under wraps as long as you’re there. so he can focus on making you feel better. just reassuring you, letting you know how much you deserve, how you shouldn’t waste your breath on someone so useless. like it’s OBVIOUS that he’s angry yk but he tries to maintain his composure. for you.

but ………….. after that. like. i’m thinking maybe you stay the night and he lets you sleep in his bed (maybe crawls in beside you if you ask for it bc you’re just really in need of stability and he’s far too eager to give it to you), and then you wake up and he’s making you breakfast and just kinda. casually lets you know that he’s gonna Talk to your partner. your ex partner. because if there’s one thing he refuses to budge on, it’s the fact that you’re breaking up with this idiot whether you like it or not. that’s the One thing where he doesn’t even hear you out, he’s not having it, you deserve to be happy and no one is allowed to hinder that.

and so he Talks to them <3333 and by talk i mean he very calmly but firmly tells them never to contact you again, and that if he sees them try they’re dead. (is he just trying to scare them? does he mean it? who knows who knows but what matters is that it works and you dont hear from them again <33)

i just really think this whole scenario makes something inside of him snap. i think that silent fury bubbles up every time he sees you question your worth, every tear you shed because of it. suguru is just so empathetic yknow? it tears him apart inside. makes him want to throw up.

and ohh god forbid you got trust issues after the whole cheating thing… i think that’s probably when he’d confess because he’d quite literally rather die than have to watch you go through the same thing with some other idiot. he really, genuinely, sincerely doesn’t trust anyone but himself to love you enough.

anyway im done in conclusion i love Suguru Geto <3333

#THIS MADE ME LOSE IT STSG ANON #LIKE GENUINELY #HES SOOOO #oh ur so realllll i would NOT let this man be away from me for more than two seconds if he was my bestie #hes SO wife and so loving and just <33333 he just loves you sooooo much its ridiculous #ask tag ✩#stsg anon !! ✩

12 notes · View notes

raccoon-eyed-rebel · 9 months

Text

Check

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Summary: Mike's friends show up to invite you to a party - they have horrible timing.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff. More fluff. Then some more fluff. Shenanigans. Cats. Mention of animal abuse. Mention of a strange situation involving someone's bro kissing his bro's mom. Yep.

A/N: Hello, and a very warm welcome to the next installment of the Cockblocking Chronicles! In this episode we have... no sex! Unsurprisingly. Also we have some... cockblocking. And a lovely little guest appearance of some of our favorites - and maybe some less favorites - and THE TURTLES!

If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too! <3

@deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @geralts-yenn @ylva-syverson

“Hey, Mikey! Is this the new girl?” You shriek at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and scramble to get under the covers without flashing whoever is behind you.

“I hope so, otherwise he’s got some explaining to do! Hey, when were you going to introduce us?” someone else says.

“We’ll let you two get dressed. Boys, coffee?” The three guys laugh and leave the room.

“Sy, Will and Evan. In that order. Not that it matters now, because I’m going to kill them...” Mike snarls through gritted teeth. He lets his head hang on your shoulder, relaxing a little now that he knows his friends are really gone.

“We can’t catch a break, can we?” Your voice finally – after all those weeks – betrays you, and Mike’s grin lets you know that he heard. So now he knows; you want him just as bad as he wants you.

“Apparently not...”

“You’re all dead to me,” Mike says as he walks into the kitchen, dragging you along behind him.

“Does he sound frustrated to you?” Will asks the others, who laugh. “He sounds frustrated to me…”

“I am frustrated, for fuck’s sake! I’ve been trying to nail her for weeks!” The kitchen goes quiet, and the guys just stare at Mike – except for Sy, who actually facepalms. “Probably shouldn’t have phrased it that way...”

“Ya think?!” you say as you smack Mike in the back of the head as hard as you can. But even you have to admit... “He’s not exactly wrong, though.”

The guys look at you as if you just told them the earth is flat – even Mike.

“Listen, this guy has been striking out since the very first date,” you continue, laughing when you see Mike’s face morph into a pout. “First it was cats, a week later parents, then he got grounded for three weeks, then it was a cop, now you guys… Cut him some slack.”

“Cop?” Evan asks, unable to hide his laughter.

“Yep. Got busted fooling around in the Camry,” Mike sighs. It’s no use lying, these guys know him well enough by now.

“Don’t you fuckin’ da-argh!” Sy interrupts your conversation with his exclamation of terror. When you look around, you see him sitting at the kitchen table, with Big Sy in his lap, who is purring contently.

“That’s hardly the massacre I was promised, Mike,” you joke as you watch the rather peaceful scene in front of you. The boys laugh at your words.

“Well, I ain’t gonna volunteer to show ya,” Sy says. The drawl in his voice is subtle but present. He’s not from around here, though you couldn’t put your finger on what part of the south he’d be from, exactly. “Someone hand me my coffee.”

You watch as Evan hands him the cup sort of carefully, never taking his eyes off Big Sy, who gives him a death glare from Real Sy’s lap.

“Mikey’s is the meanest,” Will clarifies without you ever asking. “He will swipe at just about anyone – except Mike – when he gets the idea we’re even so much as thinking about touching him. He’s completely okay with it when Sy’s not here, though.”

“Ours will let us take them off his lap, at least,” Evan adds as he bends down to pick up Nova. “Hello little attention seeker.”

“Forgive my frustration,” Mike chuckles, “but what are you fuckers even doing here?”

“Michael, language!” you hear right before the front door closes. Not long after, his mom walks into the kitchen holding heavy-looking bags of groceries.

“Ma’am, let me help you with… Motherf-!” Sy’s attempt to get up to help Mikey’s mom doesn’t go over well with Big Sy, who apparently digs all of his pointy little nails into Sy’s thighs before finally jumping off his lap.

“That’s what you get for still calling me ‘ma’am’ after all this time, Sy,” Mike’s mom laughs. “Are you okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sy answers with a grin as he takes one of the bags from her. The boys seem to feel perfectly at home here, because when they help Mike and his mom put the groceries away, they don’t even have to ask where things go – you, on the other hand, are standing around, feeling particularly useless.

“Sweetcheeks,” Mike suddenly says – much to the amusement of his friends, “can you grab Nova?” The furry projectile is trying to make her way into the fridge, which anyone would know to be a terrible place for a cat, only she doesn’t seem convinced of that at all.

“Come here, single brain cell, I’ll give you all the cuddles you so crave,” you coo as you pull her off the shelf she’s managed to crawl onto.

“Even if you didn’t have to work, eat, sleep, pee or breathe for a single second of your life, that would still be impossible,” Will says as he gently nudges Nyx out of the way with his foot. Soon, all the cats come running to the kitchen, gathering around Evan’s feet – even the ones that were nowhere near the kitchen to begin with.

“Let me guess,” you say as you watch Nyx and Larry trying to get into the cupboard Evan just opened, “that’s where their food comes from?”

One look into the cabinet proves you’re right, but Mike confirms it nonetheless: “Part of it. Just the canned food, wet food, dried fish, some kibble. The rest is either in the fridge or the freezer. I swear these cats eat better than I do – Tiger what the fuck?” He looks down at the cat that’s currently climbing his jeans.

“Mike!” The guys – and you – laugh when his mom smacks him in the back of his head. “Language!”

“Why are you always getting me in trouble? You’re not even mine!” he says as he grabs Tiger, who immediately jumps out of his arms.

“Wait, some of them are yours?” you ask, still cuddling Nova.

“Yeah,” Mike answers with a nod to Nova, “that one, Big Sy and Nyx are mine. The dorm allowed pets, but I didn’t take them with me. It was way too small. I was here every other day to check on them, though. Drove my mom nuts.”

“And now he lives here again,” she sighs as she makes herself a cup of coffee. “Let me interrupt this lovely conversation by asking you three–“ She gestures at Will, Evan and Sy “- why you are in my kitchen.”

“We stopped by to ask if Mike was joining us tonight at the lake, we’re staying in Will’s dad’s house – your girl is invited, by the way – and these two wanted to see how the kittens were doing,” Sy answers, nodding to Will and Evan at the kitten part.

“And you don’t want to know how the turtles are doing?” Mike’s mom replies in a way that’s somehow suggestive of something you can’t put your finger on.

“I came here to help you with the groceries,” Sy answers with a wink. From the corner of your eye, you see Mike gritting his teeth.

“Turtles are upstairs, if you three would come with me,” he says, ignoring you completely for a moment. “Oh, shit. Eh. I meant four, sorry Sweetcheeks.” Always nice to know where you stand.

As soon as Mike closes the door to his bedroom, he’s at Sy’s throat. “You need to stop flirting with my mom, because one of these days I’m gonna fucking punch your lights out, okay?”

“Alright, ease up, Mike,” Sy says, grabbing Mike’s arm and twisting it, forcing him to turn away. He’s on the ground in no time. “First off, I would love to see you try. Second; you know we only do it because it riles you the fuck up, right?”

“Let me go, you dick,” Mike grunts, turning back around as soon as Sy takes his hands off him. “Promise me you told me everything.”

“I swear to god, nothing more happened than what we told you.” The promise sounds oddly solemn for… yeah, for what? You look at Will and Evan, who both shake their heads, then at Sy and Mike, who look at each other.

“He kissed my mom once,” Mike says with the single most disingenuous grin you’ve ever seen.

“She kissed me,” Sy corrects him, with a hint of smugness on his face that Mike – luckily, probably – doesn’t notice. Inside your brain, it’s chaos. You’d absolutely pay to hear the whole story behind this, because how can it be anything but good. Do you blame Sy? Maybe not? He’s young and stupid, and Mike’s mom is a pretty attractive woman. But still… Kissing your friend’s mom?

The boys don’t seem prepared to tell you more about it now – Mike goes so far as telling you that he might tell you some other time, which also suggests he might never tell you at all, even after you insist you can’t drop a bomb like this on someone and then not tell them the whole story. Unfortunately, Mike – the fucking bastard – uses a distraction technique on you that’s absolutely foolproof: letting the turtles out of their pen.

Four weeks ago, the babies were unruly balls of floof, slowly waddling around on shaky little legs. Now, they’re fast. And absolutely no quieter than they were before, especially once the scratches on the outside of the bedroom door start.

You’d noticed it before; that door was in desperate need of replacement. Now, you understand why said door isn’t going to be replaced until the cats have actually scratched a hole all the way through it: because it would be pointless.

“It’s the second door,” Evan says as he sees you looking. At the same time, Mike pulls the door open and Big Sy, Nyx, Nova and Momo stroll in. Sy immediately finds Sy and begins walking in impatient circles around his ankles.

“They really want you to sit down so they can terrorize you, don’t they?” you ask him.

“Yep,” he says, “except when Mikey was still with his ex. He wouldn’t show up in any room where she was, so I was safe most of the time.” You don’t know why, but you shiver the moment Sy mentions Mike’s ex. Of course you knew you were hardly his first girlfriend, but you don’t like the reminder that there was someone before you. That said, the fact that one of his cats completely avoided her didn’t seem like a good sign.

Mike’s mom interrupts again, carrying a large plate of snacks into the room. “Please, stop talking about her, she was awful.”

You don’t even get the chance to ask if it was really that bad, because Mike looks at you with some form of guilt in his eyes. “Remember the – and I quote – horrible troll from the movies?” He sighs when you nod. “That was her. I was too blind to see it. And by that I mean – and I hate to have to admit it – she has massive tits and they made me fucking stupid. Never understood why Big Sy hated her that much. He’s not cuddly per se, but he’s alright around people. Well, a few months into dating her, I caught her when she kicked him off my bed. And I mean kicked.”

Without thinking – and with a look of sheer terror on your face – you reach out a hand to Big Sy, who’s contently purring in Sy’s lap. For a while, the red giant rubs his head against your hand, before getting up and walking over to you, lying down in your lap, begging for more attention. “Oh, God, sweet thing, who could ever kick you?” you say as you pet his head, and he even lets you give him belly rubs. It takes you a minute to realize the room has gone suspiciously quiet.

Mike – currently trying to keep three of the turtles from crawling on his head, while little Mikey has taken residence in the front pocket of his hoodie – looks at you completely stumped, as does (human) Sy. “He doesn’t do that,” Mike says as he points at the sprawled-out heap of red fur in your lap. “Ever.”

“I think this one passes the test, boys,” Sy laughs, finally breaking the strange tension in the room.

“With flying colors,” Mike says with a massive grin on his face.

#mike hellraiser #mike hellraiser fic #mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike #mike (hellraiser) x reader #hellraiser mike x reader #mikey x reader #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters

31 notes · View notes

ladytanithia · 7 months

Text

Writing WIP Wednesday

I'm pathetic and lazy and don't remember who all I was tagged by, and I don't feel like looking, so I'm just going to thank whoever tagged me (you know who you are), and tag all my friends: @dirty-bosmer @gwilin-stay-winnin @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thana-topsy @thechaosdragoness @thequeenofthewinter

This is nothing fancy, just a longish scene from the next chapter of Best-Laid Plans (@mareenavee, you're not the only one with no chill), in which Erik and Miranja pass back through Rorikstead to stay a night at the Frostfruit. Erik's father notices a change in Erik after just a week of adventuring. I just get the idea that Mralki's a better dad than he lets on. ;-) I debated between this scene and the scene with Sondas (my love - ok, one of them) at Darkwater Crossing.

^O^O^O^O^O^

“When I left home, I was practically a child,” he declared as they walked. “Father will hardly know me when I go back, and I’ve only been away a week. Thanks to you, Miss Miranja, I’ve become a man in more ways than one.”

Miranja smiled and blushed with embarrassment, but also felt rather flattered.

“Maybe this is a childish idea,” Erik continued, “but it would make me feel really good if we could make love under my father’s roof. It would be like the icing on the cake. Even if he didn’t know about it, I would know, and I’d feel like I’m finally on the same level with him.”

“What if he did know?” Miranja asked. “Do you think he’d be upset? Would he call me a harlot and throw me out?”

Erik looked surprised and bemused when she glanced over at him. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t think so, though. We may be small town people, he and I, but we’re pretty open-minded. He might worry that you’ll break my heart, but he wouldn’t disrespect you.”

“Hell, Erik, I worry that I’ll break your heart. I don’t know if it’s different for men than it is for women, but I fell pretty hard for the first boy I went all the way with. I’m not the marrying kind, though, and I hope you’re not thinking along those lines yet.”

“No, ma’am,” Erik replied. Miranja worried that she’d been too harsh and looked over at him. He looked back at her with a serious expression, but didn’t seem to be hurt. She nodded once, then turned her eyes back to the road ahead of her.

“You don’t think it would be disrespecting your father?”

“Well, think of it this way, Miss Miranja. Lots of travelers come through there. Some are couples. Some must surely have relations in the beds at our inn. How much difference would it make if I was half of one of those traveling couples?”

“It could make a big difference to your father,” Miranja speculated.

“He has to expect me to be a man in every sense of the word sooner or later.”

“But what if he expects you to wait until you have your own house and a wife?”

“What if he does? This is the Fourth Era. Times are changing. I’ve even heard of men having relationships with men, and women having relationships with women. Not that that bothers me…” he interjected, an apologetic tone in his voice, “I just mean that people should be able to do what makes them happy, if it’s not hurting anyone.”

“Now you’re speaking my language,” Miranja smiled. “I agree wholeheartedly. It’s what my parents have always told me. Okay, my dear, we will make love at the Frostfruit Inn tonight.”

Erik’s father was pleased and surprised to see them back, and Erik told him they were only spending the night because he had to accompany Miranja back to Whiterun to put away the stuff she was collecting.

“I’ve always wanted to see Whiterun,” Erik told his father. “All my life we’ve lived just at the opposite end of the hold, yet I’ve never been there.”

Mralki couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, son. And you seem to be no worse for the wear. In fact, you seem a little different already.”

“I’ve killed two Forsworn Briar-Hearts and a hagraven,” Erik told his father proudly.

Mralki’s eyes widened for a moment, then he shook his head and smiled. “Then I guess I didn’t have so much to worry about after all.”

“Granted, I couldn’t have done it without Miss Miranja, but we made a good team, and I’m learning a lot and getting stronger already.”

Mralki turned to Miranja. “Thank you, Miranja, for taking good care of my son. I trust you will teach him well.”

“Anything I can’t teach him, I have friends who can. Don’t worry, Mralki. He’s in good hands. And who taught him to use a bow? He’s pretty good.”

Mralki smiled and blushed a little. “I did. I was in the Legion once. Archery is useful for hunting as well as battle. I still hunt occasionally, and I taught Erik when he was young. He does more hunting than I do these days.”

When Mralki asked if Erik would be staying in his old room for the night, Erik fumbled before agreeing that he would. His red face would have given him away if his hesitation hadn’t. Miranja held her breath as they awaited Mralki’s response. Mralki looked from his son’s embarrassed face to Miranja’s steady but cautious gaze, reading the signs.

“Have you already, or…?”

“Yes, sir, we have already,” Miranja stated quietly and matter-of-factly. Now Mralki hesitated, but Miranja spoke again. “Call it a friendly agreement. It’s a form of stress-relief after life-or-death situations. We’ve talked and have an understanding.”

“It was my idea, da,” Erik put in. “She told me she doesn’t want anything serious. If my heart gets broken, it’ll be my own fault.”

Mralki sighed and wiped at the bar with his towel, looking at his own hand as he spoke. “I’ve already committed to trusting you to know what you’re doing, and it sounds like you’re well aware of what you’re getting into, so I won’t lecture you. The only thing I want to remind you of, whether with this lovely lass or another, is not to let the little head do the thinking. Keep your wits about you, lad.”

“Yes, da.”

“And you can rent one of the rooms with a double bed tonight.”

Erik’s face lit up like the sun. “Thank you, da. I love you.”

Mralki waved his towel at Erik. “You know I love you, too, son. Go get cleaned up and I’ll get you two some supper.”

#skyrim #elder scrolls #tesblr #miranja #fanfic #ao3 #erik the slayer #father/son moment #tanithia writes #slutty dragonborn

14 notes · View notes