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princessofgayskull · 3 years

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Hi sunflower, what's your thoughts on T Swift's Betty being a catradora song???

Me, taking a break from spop to focus on my mental health and setting better boundaries:

Me, reading this ask:

This ask woke me up from like a deep, sleeping beauty type slumber, not joking. I don’t get asked to talk about Taylor Swift often, despite being a fan of hers since I was nine years old (I’m 22 now *wink*) and we are about to find out why. But I pride myself on taking any fiction piece of media I interact with and connecting it somehow to Taylor Swift. I can do so to varying degrees of success (usually depends on the ships and romance of the world) but there are so many songs of Taylor’s that have just fit Catradora so well for me, both in and out of canon.

Some of my favorite examples: out of the woods (AND IT KEPT ME UP AT NIGHT WHEN NOELLE SAID THIS WAS HER TAYLOR SWIFT SONG FOR CATRADORA LIKE GAH CASUAL TS LISTENERS WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND) bad blood, lwymd, don’t blame, dancing with our hands tied, the archer, breathe, you’re not sorry, the way I loved you, forever & always, should’ve said no, safe & sound- I could go on.

But I won’t because I wanna stay on topic and talk about betty. Now I have a number of songs from the folklore/evermore series that are for me catradora songs (we’ll get to that in a minute) but this one is… challenging. Because I could be like “yes, because [insert casual reason here]” or “no, because [insert casual reason here]” but I can’t because Taylor feeds her children well and there’s several aspects of this song I feel like should be considered.

This biggest one to be considered, for me, is the love triangle aspect. Folklore features at length the betty/james/Augustine love triangle, each of them having one main song on the album from their POV. Betty's is cardigan, augustine’s is august, and james’ is betty. (also I’m going to throw out the gender component for a second; I know taylor says that Betty is about a guy’s apology and I totally vibe with her reasons why she wanted to write a song about a boy apologizing BECAUSE HOW GREAT WOULD THAT BE?) The love triangle makes the application of Catradora iffy at best. Because it’s like, who would be who? I am going to go out on a limb and assume that you’re seeing Catra as James? I think that personality wise, Adora as Betty and Catra as James is not a stone’s throw away from fitting actually really well. Adora’s canon journey is one of coming to realize “I know what I want and I know that it’s okay to want it” and a big part of Catra’s arc is her being like “Well shit… there goes my plans. Kind of feeling like a dumbass rn” especially in s4/s5.

(That s4/s5 distinction is important; I’ll show why in a second)

But for me, there’s no augustine. Or one that’s obvious anyway. I never imagined that either Catra or Adora dated or even had any inclinations with anyone else during the five season run- that’s just my personal opinion, people are completely welcome to feel free to disagree. I don’t think Catra acted even out of distraction with Scorpia or DT, and I think Adora was so focused on being She Ra that when she wasn’t thinking about failing/abandoning Catra when she alloted time to do so, she was thinking about the crushing weight of her responsibilities. So you know, not that much time to get back out there. So I rule out what causes James to apologize in the first place- cheating.

Side note about James cheating- I’m pretty sure Taylor confirmed this, in the long pond studio sessions doc, when she’s telling Jack Antonoff (MY BOY JACK) and Aaron Dessner ( GRAMMY AWARD WINNING KING) that James “was a fool!” And James did sleep with Augustine as confirmed in august, but cardigan makes it seem like he was definitely dating Betty before the summer. Maybe Taylor took inspiration from friends and they “were on break.” I also believe that the kiss in the Heart is the first kiss, that Catra and Adora were never ‘together’ together before Adora found the sword and defected (again, that’s just an opinion, but Adora just looks so wonderfully gobsmacked), so…

We can rule out cheating, and I think we can accomplish this and still reserve the essential meaning of the song of “I did something wrong, I see that now, I apologize for doing it, and I still love you” by widening the lens of what the “did something wrong” was (or “did something bad” you know *wink*). In that wider lens really you could fit either Catra or Adora into the song, but I’m still going to assume Catra is the James in this scenario based on how much of her redemption arc is formed around her refusal to say sorry and then eventually doing so. Of course there is no standing your porchlight but rather standing while wrestling a bunch of murderous clones…. Hmm….

But there are some stupid friends! I wholeheartedly believe Catra is James because of the dissing of Betty’s friends. That’s what Catra does to Bow, Glimmer and the rebellion et al., for most of the show and by the end of s4 she has no friends for Adora to even mock (terrible and cruel of me, I know, but it’s true). Also I know people are like “he called her friends stupid and then expected betty to take him back?” but I scream sing the line “WILL YOU KISS ME ON THE PORCH IN FRONT OF ALL YOUR STUPID FRIENDS?” every time. It brings me serotonin.

Along those lines we can ask “Who’s Inez?” in this situation. When I think gossip no one from the show really comes to mind, well, expect for Double Trouble. But Double Trouble doesn’t ever speak to Adora about Catra. This happens vice-versa, and in Betty, James reveals that Inez told Betty he cheated on her.

I want to say something controversial… Glimmer comes to mind when I think “who’s the Inez?” And this is based off of two things: 1) Inez’s closeness to Betty, and 2) Inez drags James out to dry, rightfully so. And when I think of that I think of Glimmer screaming “Do one good thing in your life!” directly in Catra’s face. James gives Inez a bad wrap in Betty. Not cool James.

Of course there’s the pivotal, “would you tell me to go fuck myself?/ or lead me to the garden?” To me this a fun way of showing there’s vulnerability to what James is doing, so automatically I’m led to is the scene where Catra asks Adora to stay, or each time in s5 when Catra risks, basically an identity crisis to let Adora in how she really feels, but there’s always the potential that Adora could spurn her by not returning her feelings or rejecting her outright.

I think the best argument that can be made for “is betty a catradora song” can really be encapsulated by the lyric(s): “the worst thing that I ever did is what I did to you” and “the only thing I wanna do is make it up to you.” That is what about the song SCREAMS Catra to me. And yeah, it could be argued that Adora hurt Catra pretty brutally (Shadow Weaver makes that point EVEN THOUGH SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO) that she messed up by abandoning Catra- but Adora feels guilt for... literally breathing. Adora is the quintessential embodiment of “pick your battles, no that’s too many battles, put some back,” but Catra picked one battle first and foremost (yes, she had a few others but this was the one) and that was Adora. Everything that motivated her was surrounded around a narrative of surpassing Adora for a multitude of reasons, and because of that she pretty much hurts Adora every chance she gets after Promise. Adora is really Catra’s first casualty, it makes sense that she has to be her first apology. And I think that after being vibed checked back to back by DT and Glimmer and realizing “oh hey fuck, I’m still in love with her” and then almost dying just to not die because Adora saves her, I think much of Catra’s motivation shifts to “how to do I get Adora to want to stay?”

That’s my logic for how Betty could be a catradora song in canon. Now not all of my Taylor associations are with canon catradora, many of them do belong to uws catradora, because it’s a lot easier to apply the more modern details of Taylor’s songs to a modern au. The song Breathe is big that way. (it’s in Upper West Side, it’s the song Adora listens to and cries to after that first ride, I just never mentioned that it was taylor because my conditioned reaction to bringing up taylor is to have my head bit off with someone’s semi incorrect and slightly sexist opinion that I never, ever ask for) And this ask got me thinking about what it would look like if I applied not Catradora to Betty, but Betty to Catradora. What would it look like if Catra skateboarded and wore black lipstick, Adora wore a cardigan and they had homeroom together until Catra really messed up? What would it look like if they were seventeen when they admitted their feelings for each other instead of 21? What would it look like if they spent a summer fighting but dreaming of each other? What would their love story look like if Catra and Adora were in that town where Taylor envisioned this “same event that affected three people in different ways?”

I think it’d look something like this.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31141973/chapters/76952048

what do you guys think?

quick but INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT thank you to @gimme-tea-bitch for helping me with this, being my beta, and listening to me talk about folklore/evermore.

#I am literally SHAKING as I post this you guys have no idea #like vibrating through a wall shaking #i've been working on this for like the past two months #and I know everyone wants cruel summer but my goblin brain is like #AHHHHHHHH WRITE A FOLKLORIAN AU FOR CATRA AND ADORA YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO #IT'S 23K WORDS NO ONE WILL NOTICE #this was supposed to go up with two parts but tbh with you guys i have high key been feeling when jenny slate said #'i don't get the love until something beautiful goes out'#please be gentle with me

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lady-une · 3 years

Text

They Always Leave

This is something I wrote just to process my feelings about a guy. Nothing fanfic related at all. Honestly probably just a pile of emotions horribly written. But if you read it enjoy. It made me cry.

Trigger warning that this does mention drug use but honestly this stuff isn’t a drug.

Loud laughter and music could easily have been heard by anyone who happened to drive by or park near the crazy looking Toyota. For inside the Toyota held three friends, who were just doing their normal Scooby gang shit of smoking and listening to music. Their bellies were full having just engorged themselves on wings, cheese curds, and waffle fries.

The night was setting up to be a normal night for the trio, nothing to crazy. The only thing out of the ordinary was that a special appearance was to be made by a man who once partook in these normal nights. A man who’s laughter lifted one of the girls spirit. A man who did stupid shit all the time just to make people laugh. A man who’s darkness matched Alice’s. He was everything she wanted all rolled up in one stupid motherfucker.

When Alice had first met Caleb he was just some random guy who had tagged along with another guy her best friend had been seeing. Everyone knew of him as alibi, he was just some stupid redneck man. Not at all what Alice was attracted to. Yet the more time she spent with him the more that stupid redneck grew on her. She told herself it was nothing, chalked her emotions up to him just being a challenge. She knew he didn’t like big girls, he preferred his woman small and red headed. It was fine, everyone had their preference in a mate. Hell Alice had her own and this man didn’t hit any requirement.

But something changed. The playful teasing and remarks changed. She started to see him differently. An attraction started to slowly build deep in her gut. Small little hugs became more. Being so close to him that she could feel his breath on her cheek as they spoke silly things to one another about what they were doing. The urge to kiss him started to grow. The day dreams of him professing his attraction started to become recurring. The way he looked at her, it made her second guess everything. Was that smile different? Did he always follow me with his eyes? She started to ask around to see if anyone else had noticed anything or if it was all in her girly imagination. Some said he was just being friendly and a few said he probably had feelings too.

Alice had a way of showing her affection. Some call it a love language but in all honesty it was just childhood trauma and her way of trying to buy affection. To keep someone from leaving, because Alice knew they all left in the end. She had slowly started to gift him things. It started out small, a sex toy since he had been in a two year dry spell. She had taped it up with two containers of gorilla tape. She had joked saying it was to mimic being at a bar and having to work for that piece of ass. Then she had found out his favorite beer. Of course it would be a seasonal one, just like her who had a love of a hard to find seasonal liquor. She checked daily for the beer to come in stock and finally when it did she bought 3 cases knowing it wouldn’t last long but it would put a smile on his face.

For his birthday she had requested the day off work. The idea had formed to drive the hour long drive to his job and tape his truck up with clear wrap and then attach birthday balloons. Then meet him and his friend Greg at the bar for a birthday lunch. There she would give him his gift, a shirt. Nothing extravagant, just one from his favorite online brands that supported the troops. Yet that whole plan had been lost. Gone in an instant. Lies and deceit had caused her to part ways with her once close friend Greg. Caleb was a causality as her best friend had called it. Alice hated it, she didn’t want to part from Caleb.

The birthday shirt had sat days in her room at the end of her bed. Still in the delivery packaging. Alice would have just dropped it off in the bed of his truck had she known his address. Instead after a night of smoking and drinking she had finally texted him. Letting him know she had his gift, letting him know how much she missed him. With the dawn of the next day came sobriety and realization of how stupid she was. Quickly opening the chat she saw he had not seen the messages, this was her chance to right the wrong. With a click of her finger she unsent the messages to Caleb. It wasn’t until later in the day that Caleb had finally opened the chat up and saw that she had unsent the messages and called her out on it.

Alice confessed that she had texted him some stupid ramblings about the boxing match she had seen. A bold face lie but there was no way in hell she would confess her feelings to him sober. Instead she lied and then asked to meet so she could give him his birthday gift early. He had agreed to meet her while she was out with her friends. A quick drive by and it would be fine. Or that’s what Alice had told herself.

The margarita she had in the restaurant had calmed her nerves. The devils lettuce she was smoking had made her even more calm. This would be fine, she repeated her mantra “it’s fine” over and over in her head. A quick in and out.

It wasn’t long before she received the text that he was pulling up and asked where to park. She told him to look for the Yoda mobile and loud music. He replied back with a simple “LOL” and then she heard his loud truck before she saw it. Looking at her friends she smiled before getting out of the car with the gift. Caleb had parked two spots to the left of car and was climbing out of it by the time she reached him. The man wore his standard wranglers and brown boots with his KORN t-shirt and hat.

Alice laughed before nervously saying, “I should have bet on KORN instead of the fuck your feelings shirt.”

“That shirt was dirty, this was the nearest shirt.” Caleb replied with a half smile on his face.

Alice looked up at him trying to decipher what his eyes were possibly saying behind his dark sunglasses. A memory of a time earlier that summer where she yelled at him to take those damn shades off so she can see that he was looking at her while she talked to him popped in her head. To an outsider it would look like she was being mean to him but that was how they were. They would loudly bicker and cuss one another out with a smile on their faces.

“Well now you have a new shirt. Sorry I didn’t get you those jeans you wanted, you know shit just got weird and I felt weird texting you to ask about the jeans.”

“You didn’t have to.” Caleb replied as he took the colorfully bright pink Disney princess bag from Alice’s outstretched hand. He looked at the bag and back to her with a smile.

“Don’t give me that look, I saw it at target and the damn thing screamed ‘Caleb’ so I had to buy it. Now go on and open it!”

Caleb shook his head as he opened the bag up, sifting through the pink and blue tissue paper Alice had stuffed into it. When Caleb finally had the shirt in hand he tossed the princess bag into the bed of his truck and unfolded the shirt to hold it up and inspect it.

“I fucking love it Alice!” He shouted as he looked at the shirt that had bullets in the shape of a hand flicking you off.

“I wasn’t sure if I should get that one or the one with all the fish on it that said size matters. But Greg said to get this one.”

“Well I love it, thank you!”

Caleb opened his arms and Alice fell right into them wrapping her arms around his back and taking comfort in his hold. It had been too long since she got to hold her favorite person. She often dreamt of him holding her and it felt just as good as her dreams.

“Come on Alice, say your goodbyes. He is a casualty.” Yelled out Alice’s best friend from the back of the Toyota affectively killing Alice’s moment with Caleb.

“Casualty?” Caleb asked.

Alice pulled away but held on with just one hand to his KORN shirt, “Just ignore her.”

“Mmmhmm. How are things going with that?” Caleb inquired.

Before Alice could give him an answer her other friend yelled from the driver seat in his Yoda voice “Say your goodbyes and lets go.”

Alice looked from Caleb to her friends in the car and stomped her foot as she yelled “I wanna keep this one!”

The car of friends broke out in a laughter knowing that she was referencing a TikTok they had all seen hundreds of times. They thought she was being funny, they knew she had a crush on Caleb but she had meant it. She didn’t want him to be a casualty. She wanted him to stay in her life.

“You should probably get going, I don’t wanna hold you up.” Caleb said with a slight chuckle.

“I don’t want to. Can’t you stay awhile?” Alice asked looking up at him through her sunglasses. She could feel the tears wanting to come but held them back.

“You know I cant.”

“Please.” She begged.

“I have to get home.”

“Live a little.”

“I do live a lot but just not with you.”

“Same excuse every time.”

“Get going now before they leave your ass.”

Alice grabbed on to his shirt with the other hand. “I don’t want to.”

The tears were welling up inside her eyes, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold off. She hated crying in front of people. She saw it as a weakness. The many years as a child being told to stop crying or she would be given a reason to cry. Then as an adult being told by the man she was seeing that crying was a weakness and that she need to toughen up and that she wasn’t allowed to cry and be weak. She knew it was perfectly fine to cry and it was not a weakness. It was something that she told her kids all the time when they felt sad. That it was normal to cry and that you should cry and work through your emotions. Yet it was something she preached but never practiced herself. She had four kids at home to watch over, she didn’t have time to be weak.

“Thank you for the gift Alice, I really do like it.” Caleb said as he held onto one of her arms.

“I’m glad you do.” The first traitorous tear slip passed her eyes and she knew the instant Caleb saw it because his face lost all playfulness.

“Alice…” he gently called her name.

“I know its stupid. You don’t gotta tell me that. But I know the minute I let go and you get in your truck I wont see you again. All those plans we had will be gone. Who will take me to the gun shop to buy my first gun? Who will make sure that the sales man doesn’t take advantage of me? Who will help me learn to shoot it correctly? Why couldn’t you like me? God I sound like a stupid female right now. But we would have been great together you know. You matched my level of darkness, we matched each other in so many ways.”

“Alice..”

“You know it. They know it. Everyone knows it. Everyone always said that we should just get together but we both would just laugh but deep down I wanted it. God did I want it but you just couldn’t get past that I was a bigger girl. Boy do I feel fucking stupid on an epic proportion right now.”

“Alice everyone has their preference, you always said we were friends because you knew I didn’t like you like that.”

“Of course I did because I didn’t wanna lose you. Better to be friends then not have you in my life. Funny how now I wont even have that.”

The tears were freely falling at this point. Alice could no longer hold her head high, instead she looked down at the ground. She couldn’t look at that stupid face of his, that face that she knew would haunt her dreams for many days to come.

“Alice you will find someone so much better then me. My stupid ass wouldn’t make the best partner for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Look at me Alice.”

Alice shook her head, how could she look at him she was feeling pathetic at the moment. Crying because a man doesn’t want her. Caleb didn’t give her a chance to wallow in her own misery, he put his new shirt on the side of his truck bed and grabbed her face lifting it up to his. He lifted her sunglasses and looked at her tear stained face.

“Don’t cry Alice.”

“Shut up you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Caleb took his thumbs and brushed the tears away from her eyes. “I’m not someone to cry about.”

“To me you are.”

“You gotta let me go Alice. Move on. It was fun while it lasted and we will always have our memories.”

“Do they teach you these bullshit excuses when you guys are in school? I swear it’s the same fucking thing just said by a different guy.” Alice yelled angrily through her tears.

“Don’t be mad.”

“Don’t tell me what to feel.”

“Then don’t act like a spoiled brat.”

“Then don’t act like an ass who is un-attracted to fat women.”

“We aren’t going to get anywhere on this. Please don’t be mad and please don’t cry over me.”

Alice knew she was being mad because she was hurt and that she shouldn’t be. She knew she should be enjoying these last few moments with Caleb. With shaky hands Alice reached for Caleb’s sunglasses and lifted them up to see his face. Caleb was an expert at hiding his feelings, years in the military had made him hard.

“Why did you do it Alice?” Caleb quietly asked.

“You act like I did it on purpose. I didn’t plan on falling for you. If you weren’t so fucking perfect and if your darkness didn’t call to mine we would be safe.”

“I’m sorry Alice.”

“Me too Caleb.” Alice whispered as more tears fell down her face and she stood on her tippy toes to give him a chaste kiss at the edge of his lips.

Alice tried to smile through her tears and pulled away allowing him room to get back into his truck. With him seated in his truck Caleb rolled down the window and said goodbye before pulling away. Alice watched as the man she wanted nothing more did what all men do…..leave.

#Emotions #heart ache #broken heart #dating

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

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Can you please do a sequel to the Thomas piece you posted?? I would love to see more of their “rekindled” (idk if that’s the right word) relationship evolve. Thanks so much!!

So, uh...I know what the doctor ordered and all, but I kinda made it real angsty cause I have no idea how to write anything other than angst so...yeah...🤡

Sorry if this was all over the place🤦🏻‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~

Looking back on the past several months, you wondered if there was anything you could've done differently.

Maybe, if you just kept to yourself, none of this would be happening.

You and Thomas tried your best to get everyone out of the Maze, you really did. You knew there would be casualties, but you never thought it would be Chuck...or Newt.

After your memories returned, you and Thomas did everything in your power to try and convince the Gladers that you weren't the bad guys. Of course, Gally didn't take too kindly to that news; and when Teresa came up in the Box, all hell broke loose.

You had no idea how you managed to get out of that situation, but thankfully you had more than just Thomas and Teresa on your side. You escaped the Maze. You escaped W.C.K.D. You saved Minho and countless other kids that were taken. Now...you were safe, as crazy as it sounds.

A part of you wished you never got your memories back. You wished you could've just stayed in the Glade with Chuck, Newt, Alby, Ben, or even Teresa. It was hard to not blame yourself, because you were to blame. Maybe none of this would've happened if you just stayed away from Thomas.

Sure, you harbored a bit of resentment. Not just at him though, the whole situation was fucked up, and you knew that, it wasn't fair to blame it all on one person.

Seeing so many of your friends die, in part, because of you, put a strain on your relationship with Thomas. It sucked, because you all were on the run for so long that you didn't even get a chance to spend quality time with him. All you had was your memories to keep you company, which is more than anyone else could say. Which, you guessed, made you lucky.

All these memories coming back to you in an instant, remembering how Thomas was then compared to who he is now, it took some getting used to. Before the Maze, you had a very specific idea of who Thomas was, who he was to you. He was your best friend. He was your partner. He was your soulmate. So why did you start to see things so differently?

It was subtle, at first, just little things you disagreed on from time to time. Like, how you both handled conflict. Then, when Gally became a problem, you had very different ideas on how to handle him. Ultimately, that problem came to a head quickly and you had no choice but to go along with Thomas' plan.

But after escaping the Maze, you two practically disagreed with everything. Granted, looking back, you wished you had agreed on certain things. You were ashamed of yourself for how you treated the Winston situation. When he got infected, you already came to the conclusion that he was just dead weight. Obviously, Thomas had an issue with that. You were never that close to the kid, neither was Thomas, but he was still dead set on dragging him across the desert. It was only when Winston tried to kill himself is when Thomas finally broke.

You apologized to Thomas that night, but he surprised you when he said he understood where you were coming from. He knew Winston would've make it, but he was too stubborn and scared to admit it to himself. That moment was the first time you kissed him since you had gotten your memories back, and Thomas kissed you back.

You always made a strong effort to see things Thomas' way, even if he didn't notice it. But your opinions were so strong sometimes, that you'd completely ignore the pit in your gut that told you that he'd never agree, even if you made a compelling argument. It was frustrating. You knew that some of your ideas were a bit lackluster, you came from a more inconspicuous, strategic approach when it came to plans, whereas Thomas was more guns blazing. But when it came to Minho's rescue mission, both of your views came in handy.

Even now, you wondered if you had went along with Thomas' plan of attack, would Teresa still be alive? Would Newt? Obviously, you had no way of knowing. But just the thought that maybe you might've been at fault made you shut down sometimes.

You had yet another argument with Thomas, and you just couldn't handle being around him anymore. It wasn't the smartest of plans, but you snuck out of camp and wandered into the forest away from the beach. Even in the heat of your rage, you were almost positive you could find your way back again, so you didn't worry. All you tried to focus on was steadying your heartbeat, but all you could do was take an unpleasant trip down memory lane.

It probably should've worried you that it was getting dark really quick. If you were still at camp, you could probably still see the sun going down. But the forest pretty much blocked out all light, even the moon just barely peaking through the trees. But you stayed, suspended a couple feet in the air, sitting on a sturdy tree branch.

Your wrist started to itch, the annoying stinging sensation forcing you out of your state of tranquility and back into the real world. You had to physically stop yourself from huffing, rolling your eyes when you realized that he was close by.

Ever since that day in the Maze, you could always sense Thomas' presence, the ink in your skin giving off a slight burning feeling whenever he was close by. It would start off dull, barely noticeable. The feeling would intensify the closer Thomas would be in proximity until it completely stopped.

"Y/n?"

"Go away." You quickly replied harshly, not even turning around to look at him.

"You need to come back to camp, it isn't safe out here."

"Oh, like it's any safer across the ocean." You sighed.

This was the hundredth disagreement, Thomas wanted to go back to the mainland. His hero complex finding it difficult to just stay in the Safe Haven while there may be other people in need of help. Teresa seemed to finally break him from beyond the grave. He wants to find a way to replicate the cure that she gave to him before she sacrificed herself.

You thought it was stupid. You kept thinking about everyone that has been hurt, everyone that was murdered, all their friends that were experimented on by W.C.K.D. in their hopes of finding a cure. Thomas held the cure in his hand, but it's always never enough. It's like he has to put himself in danger to find a purpose in life. You were almost sure that they was no purpose, just survive.

In the Glade, you had more hope, surprisingly. Without your memories, you woke up with a tiny bit of hope, hope that the world outside the Maze would be better. But then it wasn't. You remembered how shitty the world really was, it even made you miss the Glade. It was a cage, that's for certain, but it almost seemed like you were safer there.

Sure, you were safe now. But your experiences in the Maze combined with all your memories that you had to deal with, you changed, you and Thomas both. Sometimes, it didn't really feel like you were the same people before you lost your memories. Maybe that's why you two were at odds constantly, maybe you two weren't actually soulmates. Who knows what put those tattoos on your skin, it could've been W.C.K.D. for all you knew. It was a very disheartening thought.

"Come on, Y/n. This again, seriously?" Thomas scoffed. "I thought you of all people would understand why I need to do this. If we can replicate the cure, who knows what that could mean for us? For the whole world?"

You sighed, jumping down from the tree branch and standing to face him. "Thomas, I never said we shouldn't try to make more cures. I just think it's idiotic to try and go back to that hellscape."

"It's not that I want to, we don't have the proper tools here that can make it easier to remake the serum."

"Last time we were there, all those buildings were being blown up. Most likely, it's all rubble and ash by now. There wouldn't be anything left to salvage."

"But not impossible."

"Thomas..."

"It's not impossible. Those specific buildings might be gone now, but you know how many more W.C.K.D. facility's there are. We have those coordinates."

"Those buildings are probably overrun by Cranks."

"But there still might be equipment left, and that's enough for me. We owe it to Teresa to try."

You rolled your eyes. "We don't owe her anything, Thomas. She betrayed us all, remember?"

"She saved my life. Our life. Surely, you remember that." You didn't reply. "She was like a sister to you, Y/n. Those feelings aren't just something that goes away overnight."

"It's easier when you remember she always had an agenda to begin with." You snapped, but quickly felt guilty when you saw the tears in Thomas' eyes. Your gaze softened. "Replicating the cure isn't gonna bring her back...we have to move on."

"I know...I know it won't bring her back..." Thomas whispered, slowly sitting down on this forest floor.

You sighed, kneeling down beside him. "I admire that you...want to save the world. But you shouldn't go on a suicide mission because of one person who's not even alive anymore." You said as softly as possible, the chirps of insects around you almost drowning you out.

"You think this is just about Teresa?" Thomas quickly asked, furrowing his brows.

You shrugged. "I know how hard you took her death. And yeah, it's been hard for me too. I was just so angry at her that I didn't allow myself to mourn. But I honestly think that Teresa wouldn't want you to kill yourself over this cure just for her."

Thomas let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "It was never just about her. I...I couldn't save Newt. He wasn't immune, and I am. And I could've saved him if I had just listened to Teresa. So many people on this island aren't immune. Including you...if there's even the slightest chance I could make more cures in order for you to be safe...it's more than enough for me. I can't lose you too."

"Thomas..."

"I can't lose you."

You shook your head, quickly grabbing onto Thomas' hands. "Hey," You said softly, "you're not going to lose me."

"How do you know?"

"Thomas, no one here has the virus. And we're so far away from the mainland...don't you think it would be affecting people already if it could reach us here?"

Thomas stayed silent, casting his gaze to the forest floor dejectedly.

You sat closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, but still keeping your hands on his. "Thomas, I think the worst is over now. We don't have W.C.K.D. hanging over our heads, and we're not running for our lives anymore...we shouldn't have to worry about this kind of stuff anymore."

"Sometimes it's hard to believe that we don't have to run for our lives anymore..." Thomas whispered softly.

You frowned, leaning more into Thomas. "I know...I've been feeling the same way."

Thomas brought up your wrist, kissing his tattooed name gently. "I'm sorry. I hate arguing with you."

You smiled weakly. "It's okay. I'm sorry too."

"I remember you telling me that my stubbornness will get me killed someday." He chuckled, then sighed. "You weren't wrong. I know I'm stubborn."

"Hey, it's not just you. I know I'm stubborn too."

"We make such a good pair, don't we?" He joked.

The thought about the origins of your tattoos came back into your mind, causing you to frown slightly. "Do you ever think about our tattoos?" You asked hesitantly. "Like, about how they got there in the first place?"

Thomas inhaled deeply. "Yeah. I have."

"Do you think W.C.K.D. is the one who put these here?" You asked, rubbing your thumb over Thomas' tattoo.

"I don't know...maybe. But even if they did, it doesn't matter to me. I love you, and that'll never change."

You looked up at Thomas, seeing that he was already looking at you with a small smile. You felt your face heat up when he moved a strand of your hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "Thomas...?"

"Hmm?"

You leaned in and placing your lips against his gently. "I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~

yes, i'm aware this was a bit of a mess lmao. hope you enjoyed regardless

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #tmr thomas #thomas x reader

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lunasquared · 3 years

Text

First Encounter

Chapter 1 of Rebuild All You Have Broken

Written for Villainous July @multiverse-irondad-july run by @superherotiger and @kevyfanfics

Materlist - Read on AO3 - Next Chapter

Summary: Peter finally encounters the notorious villain Iron Man and it goes nothing like he expects.

Story below the cut

Peter sighed as he sat crouched on top of a building surveying the city and listening to the report from below about yet another attack by the infamous Iron Man, the villain who has been terrorizing New York for the past months. For the most part, at least from what Peter had gathered, Iron Man had been destroying Stark Industry buildings around New York that had housed weapons and every attack he was in and out before anyone knew what was going on. But for the other times he looked to be destroying random buildings throughout the city that no one knew what they held or what their purpose was. The guy had never killed anyone, but from what Peter could tell his morals rode that extremely fine line between killing someone and seriously injuring them. Only problem was that Peter could only take that guess from the looks of things. He had never actually met the guy.

For the number of times Peter had been out as Spider-Man and then later heard about an Iron Man attack during the same time block, it was almost surprising to Peter that they had never run into each other, but at the same time Peter would never complain about that. He was unsure about what Iron Man would do if they did run into each other. From what Peter had heard anytime Iron Man had a run in with some sort of hero, be the Avengers, or any type of vigilante like Peter, it never ended well for the other party. Iron Man always won and the other would come out extremely injured. So yeah, Peter was thankful to not have a runin with Iron Man, but that did not mean he was actively avoiding the villain either. Peter was in the grey area in between actively avoiding and actively seeking out. If he ran into Iron Man, great! He could actually attempt to do something to stop the villain. If not then he was perfectly fine going about his typical Spider-Man patrols.

Peter knew that eventually his luck would run out. He would run into Iron Man and have to face him, however today was not that day as patrol was normal. Or well as normal as a city patrol could be. Stopping a few muggings, finding lost bike owners, finding a few lost pets. Normal for a patrol. And when Peter crawled through the window of his apartment that night and climbed into bed after changing, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer “normal” would last.

~~~

Turns out normal didn’t last much longer, only a few days. Patrol did start normal for Peter, that is until he heard a large explosion nearby that of course he had to check out. When Peter got to the explosion site he wasn’t sure what to expect, but based on the amount of destruction, he immediately knew who the culprit was. Peter did a quick survey of the area looking for any sort of casualty when he saw the iconic gold and red form fly out from the debris. As much as Peter wanted to stay and help those who were potentially injured, he knew the first responders would be able to do a better job than him at helping out, so he quickly took off after Iron Man.

“Stop!” Peter called out in attempts to get Iron Man’s attention.

Iron Man of course didn’t respond so Peter pushed himself harder trying to catch up to Iron Man before he disappeared.

“I said stop!” Peter yelled again trying to swing faster to catch up.

Peter was unsure how long the attempt at chasing Iron Man went on, but as he slowly fell further and further behind he knew that catching Iron Man by swinging would be a futile attempt. In one last attempt in desperation Peter shot out a web at Iron Man, unsure if he was trying to just slow him down or distract him in some way, but whatever he was trying to do it worked because Iron Man stopped and slowly turned around to face Peter. Even though there was a mask covering his face, Peter could see the raised eyebrow and almost shocked face behind the mask.

“Excuse you?” Iron Man said in a way that had Peter jolting to a stop on top of the building nearest Iron Man.

“Excuse me?” Peter repeated exasperated. “You’re the one who blew up a building then ran away.”

“And you had the nerve to shoot a- whatever that is at me.” Iron Man said, peeling the web off his suit. “And I flew away. I didn’t run.”

“You still blew up a building!”

“And you still interrupted me. Which I must say is bold for a little spider like yourself.” Iron Man said with a smirk and bite of venom in his voice that made Peter want to coward away.

But he didn’t fold in on himself and leave like every instinct in his body was screaming to do. No, instead he put on his brave face and tried to stand a little taller in front of the villain. It was an attempt to stand his ground, to say he wasn’t moving no matter what. Peter had a feeling how this would end and he knew the odds were not on his side. But luck and odds were never what had driven Peter before so why would he let that drive him now?

“Bold because no one stands up to you?” Peter questioned, thankful that the slight tremble of his limbs didn’t give way into his voice.

“No.” Iron Man stated simply. “Bold because those who do typically don’t make it out.”

Peter knew what those words meant, it wasn’t hard to interpret them and it wasn’t hard to remember those who had attempted standing up to Iron Man in the past. He had seen some of them first hand. Never the attack itself, but the aftermath of trying to help. And while Peter never wanted to be on the receiving end of it, at the moment it was looking pretty likely that he would be.

“Why?” Peter asked in an attempt to stall the inevitable.

“Why?” Iron Man repeated. “Well why not?”

Iron Man was playing games and though Peter was stalling he didn’t like games like this, there was always an ulterior motive with the games when someone played along with the stalling. So what was the motive? This whole conversation wasn’t right. Iron Man never talked to anyone this long. If someone tried to stop him, he attacked. It was simple, it was predictable, so what was different about now? What was different about stalling with Peter, what was the reason for it?

Peter racked his mind trying to find a reason for the stalling. There was nothing different with this attack compared to the others. At least from what Peter could tell there wasn’t. So why this? Why stall? Why even have a chance to reveal something? Why make that chance?

“Why are you stalling?” Peter finally asked, too curious to not say anything.

“You’re stalling as well so you can’t really be asking that question.” Iron Man shot back.

Then Peter heard it. It was faint, but it was the telltale sound of Iron Man’s suit flying. But Iron Man was right in front of him so how? Out of the corner of his eye Peter saw something shift in Iron Man’s demeanor, almost like he was more confident, more cocky.

“Ah so you finally hear it now. Interesting. But maybe now you’ll finally get it.” Iron Man’s voice dropped into something filled with so much venom, so much confidence. “You will never be able to stop me. No one will, because I’m everywhere.”

Iron Man flew off and Peter stood in shock watching as he went. He had a conversation with Iron Man and didn’t end up in the hospital. Except now he was more curious than ever about Iron Man. Did he have partners? Were they just other suits? Was Iron Man somehow playing him and didn’t even have other suits?

There were too many questions running through Peter’s mind, there was no way he would be able to continue patrol like this, he would end up zoning out and getting hurt. So after a few minutes of allowing himself to be in shock Peter took a deep breath and took off towards his apartment.

Peter stopped in an alleyway near his apartment and quickly changed before heading upstairs. When he opened the door he could smell that whatever May was attempting to make was burnt.

“Chinese?” Peter asked, coming around the corner into the kitchen and giving May a quick hug.

“Yep I’ll order it now.” May confirmed giving Peter a kiss on the cheek.

~~~

“Are you okay?” May asked as Peter shoved the food around on his plate still trying to process everything that had happened today.

“Yeah.” Peter said with a nod. “Just a long day. I’m ready for school to be over.”

“You just have a few more weeks, then you have the whole summer.”

Peter nodded he couldn’t wait until school was over. That meant longer patrols, and not worrying about having to finish up homework when he got back for the night. The TV pulled Peter out of his thoughts as he heard the reporter mention Iron Man.

“The notorious villain Iron Man has struck yet again, this time destroying multiple warehouses on the outskirts of Queens. The contents of those warehouses are still unknown as is Iron Man’s motives for these attacks. We do know that there were minimal injuries and as of now no casualties during the events of today’s attacks, search and rescue teams are still looking so those are subject to change. Please if anyone knows any information about any Iron Man attacks or about Iron Man himself please contact the number shown on the screen.”

“I can’t believe there was another attack.” May said, pulling Peter’s attention away from the screen. “That’s the third one this month.”

“I wonder why he’s doing it?” Peter questioned causing May to raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean his attacks just don’t make sense, why is he targeting Stark Industries or seemingly random places. It just doesn’t make sense is all.”

May only shrugged. “Whoever it is and why they’re doing it, I just hope they stop.”

“You and me both.”

~~~

That night Peter laid awake staring at the ceiling replaying his conversation with Iron Man over and over. There had to be something in that conversation that gave something away as to why he was doing it or to who he was. Peter knew going over the conversation over and over was worthless and he wouldn’t find anything, but what stuck in his head was why didn’t Iron Man try to fight him?

#villainous july 2021 #villainous july #villain tony stark #tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #iron man #spiderman

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ac3id · 4 years

Text

pairings: shigaraki tomura x female reader

warnings: nsfw, dubcon, captivity, yandere shiggs, mention of death, shiggs is a meanie, dumbification if ya squit.

a/n: im so glad someone requested this!! i will litereally never shut up about man also!! shigaraki is beefed up in this cus that man finna get permanent residency in my head

word count. 1557

Imagine: Shigaraki taking the small, cute little pathetic nurse of the hospital he hijacked as his darling.

It takes some time for him to find you tolerable. At first, he absolutely loathes you; you’re always crying over the littlest things, always painting him to be the bad guy and you even refuse to give treatment to his men. And honestly, that pisses him off the most. You’re completely brainwashed by society. What do you mean you won’t help men like ‘him’? Are you that superior? You get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong? Are his men not humans? He hates you. If it weren’t for the situation he had faced himself in, he would have decayed you in the blink of an eye. But now after a failed mission and a lot of casualties on his side, he needed your quirk.

When he kidnaps you, finally, it’s not because he loves you and wants to take care of you. No. It’s because he wants to torture you- literally. He’s so sick of your hot-headedness, so sick of your ideals- how you still think heroes will come to save you from those nefarious villains. Shigaraki wants to break you, show you how pathetic you really are. And so he does.

One day he just gets so tired of your antics, you’re ignoring him- something you find yourself doing very often these days. You isolate yourself from him and everyone. You run to a storage room and hide, your knees pressed to your chest and head held down. You sniffle into your knees, you never wanted this happen. What did I do to this deserve this? When would the heroes come? You chanted to yourself. Deep down, you knew Shigaraki was right but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that the world was so hollow and even if it was, you’d choose to ignore it. You’d live your life the way you want to and believe in that devil’s words. You’d-

The door slams open, a big angry looking Shigaraki stands in the there, his eyes fuming with murderous intent. He rushes towards and wastes no time in clasping his big, sturdy hands around your petite neck and you pulling you up. He squeezes around it and choking noises fills the room, your hands automatically wrap around his trying to push him off but it’s all in vain. He’s too strong and you’re too dumb. You let out choked pleads, begging him to let you go and that you’ll help him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you cause he needed you, you believed that he’d-

“If you’re thinking that I won’t kill you right this instant. You are wrong. I will take away your quirk for myself and leave you here to bite the dust. Don’t test me.”

He drops you to the floor, you rub your neck and try to collect yourself. He looks down at you, the way your tremble reminds him of a puppy who’s been kicked. He smiles to himself, he crouches down and grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. “I don’t like being mean to a pretty little thing like you,” he confesses and your eyebrows knit together. Why is he talking to you like this?

“Use your dumb little head, okay? Listen to me.” His hold from your collar disappears and he stands back to his full height hovering over, you looked like an ant under and he looked like monster. You look up at him with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes- he’s the predator and you’re the prey. There’s no denying it. You were stupid for choosing not to submit to him before but now, you know he’s not the one to show mercy. He’s going to give you one chance you better not disappoint him.

You started to obey him after he had threatened you, knowing full well he’d take your quirk and kill you the very next second. You did not want to challenge or anger him. It’s for my own survival, you tell yourself. You help his men, you sit, biting back your urge to hit Dabi as you tend to his wounds while he throws obscene remarks of what he’d do to a girl like you or how you have to stop your self from throwing up as you listen to Toga explain in detail about what she wants to this boy she’s crushing on. It’s hard work. Spinner and Mr. Compress were a little better but considering the fact that they come back to you after murdering innocents. It surely manages to you up at night.

It doesn’t take long for Shigaraki to develop a soft spot for you, he likes this new you. You are submissive, you listen to him. He finally managed to put you in your place.

You did not think about those heroes anymore, did you?

Ridiculously, he finds a friend in you, both of you start talking. You talk about your day with him he tells you about his, you drink together and as much as you shouldn’t; you find yourself enjoying your time with the league.

You come to understand them and you forget that you’re being held, hostage. Call it Stockholm syndrome but you didn’t care. The newfound joy lasts but all things must end.

The calm before the storm: Shigaraki suddenly finds himself falling for you, your shy habits- how you’d twirl your hair when you got nervous or chewed on your lip while concentrating. How your cheeks stained pink in your intoxicated state. He noticed everything, he didn’t want to believe he was falling for but the way butterflies that danced around in his stomach when your finger grazed over his, how his mood turned better when you entered the room. The signs were obvious. He was in love

He thought he’d tell you about his feelings for you before they left the hospital, all his men had recovered wonderfully courtesy to you. You’d flee with him and the both of you would be happy together forever a perfect ending for a new beginning. He confesses his love to you two days before his departure, he tells you how he wants to spend his life with you, how he thinks you’re the one but to his dismay. You don’t feel the same.

It breaks his heart into pieces, he can’t believe what he just heard. You’re kidding, right? You love him the way he loves you. Right?

No? No.

He’s pissed. Needless to say, even though you rejected his proposal, he still takes you along. He locks you in one of the many rooms of the PLF mansion. The only person you can see is him, he spends hours trying to make you understand why you needed him but you don’t budge. It’s like starting all over again. He is kind at the beginning but as days go by and his frustrations increase he just ends up using you like his fuckhole, bending you over whenever he wants and fucking your brains out. Shoving his cock down your throat, leaving you a quivering mess.

If you refuse or hesitate, he’d threaten you. He’ll take away your quirk and chop your legs and arms clean and leave you to rot. He’s done it before (you recall the incident with Overhaul). It leaves you no choice but to listen to him. He wins all the time.

“Faster,” Shigaraki grunts. He has your wrists tied behind your back, his fingers tugging on your nipples, hard grinning at how your face confronts in pain. “Come on, whore. I know you can do better than this” he says staring at how your tiny cunt takes his huge cock. He was mesmerized, the way your walls wrapped around his girth. It was obviously too much for you, you could barely keep. The way your tongue lolled out of your mouth and eyes crosses, it was given.

Unable to form responses you only whined in protest, hoping Shigaraki would take it easy on you but he just laughed. “What are you saying, my dumb little baby?” he asked in a condescending voice. It made you feel pathetic, he treated you like a pet who couldn’t for look after herself. It drove you mad that you couldn’t do anything about it, his hand snakes around your neck holding it firmly you stop moving on his dick. Keeping it settled warmly in your hole he pulls you down, his lips level with your ear. “Do it properly, my love,” you cringe internally at the nickname- a second ago he was calling you a whore. “If you don’t, I’ll take quirk,” your face pales, you couldn’t lose your quirk. It was all you had. “Please...Don’t do that. It’s all I have.” your voice cracks and tears roll to your cheeks, “It’s okay, baby. Just do it again. Be better this time,” he coos his hand patting your back as he restrains himself from thrusting into you, he lets you go and you start rocking your hips again trying to satisfy him, he grips your waist tightly; it would leave marks later.

Shigaraki stares at you sleeping next to him, after a tiring session you were finally getting well deserved rest. You had obeyed him beautifully today, he wondered how long would it take before you realized that; it wasn’t your quirk which was all you had left. It was him.

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peach-pops · 4 years

Note

Hello! Do you remember "Dating a Hothead/easily angered girlfriend" blog from anonymous? Can I request for Akaashi, Kageyama, Ushijima, Sugawara, and Tsukishima of how will they react to their s/o? Thank you! I really really really love that blog! It really reminds me of me of being sassy 😂. Anyways, sorry for bothering you *bows*

Author’s note: UGH Im so sorry this took me so long to get out! I only did Kageyama and Akaashi cause I wanted a bit of a contrast hope that’s okay! Also, I wanna point out that there’s nothing wrong with defending yourself, even if things do get violent. I don’t condone violence I’m just saying to protect yourself in the best way possible!

Here’s the first part!

Akaashi and Kageyama with a Hotheaded Girlfriend

-Akaashi-

Akaashi knows how angry you get so he always does his best to try and make sure everything goes smoothly to avoid any casualties

BUT Akaashi can’t control every little thing and he realizes this fairly early in your relationship

I’m a full believer that Bokuto loves raves and clubbing and because of this, he usually drags you and Akaashi along

One night you three and a couple of other Fukurodani members are out clubbing and immediately, Akaashi surveys the room: where are the exits? Where’s the bathroom? Which group looks like trouble? Where did his girlfriend and best friend go???

He spots a group of girls near the bar that are a part of a bachelorette party who are a bit rowdy but he kinda brushes them off cause there’s nothing threatening about six girls wearing cheap wedding veils

You guys get your own private table in the corner ( bless Konoha and his connections) and after an hour or two of drinking and dancing, you take the initiative to go buy the next round of drinks cause that’s just club etiquette and you’re lowkey ballin

Let’s get it miss independent !!!! 😤 😤 😤

Akaashi offers to go with you but you tell him to watch Bokuto cause he might bust his head from dancing on the table

Once you make it to the bar, you decide just to order a pretty expensive bottle for the table because you’re not confident in your ability to carry six shots back without spilling it everywhere

You pay for the bottle and start making your way back to the table when you see the bridal party from earlier hanging out at your table. You see two girls laughing side by side with Bokuto (ok my dude get some) BUT THEN you search for Akaashi and sure enough, you see him visibly uncomfortable as the ‘soon to be bride’ tries sitting in your mans lap.

Akaashi looks up and he’s conflicted cause he wants your help to get this drunk girl off of him but he also knows you’re crazy and you might kill her in the process

“ Your hair looks so sexy pushed back! Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“ Please go away, my girlfriend is coming and she won’t be happy-”

“ Aw girlfriend? No fair why are the cute ones always taken?”

“ Aren’t you getting married?”

You’re gripping the bottle so tight in your hands and Akaashi can see it in your eyes that you are soooo close to hitting this bitch over the head with the bottle

He already knows exactly what you’re thinking and he’s pleading with you not to just with his eyes

Would you kill a girl over sitting in your mans lap? Yeah probably I mean you were fucking crazy

BUT since you could see how serious Akaashi was, you loosened your grip on the bottle and placed it on the table. Before the bride could even look over, you had already lightly nudged pushed her off of Akaashi’s lap and sat down on your boyfriend as if to claim him

“ What is your problem, you didn’t have to push me!” The bride whined as she got off the floor but you kept your glare on her

Akaashi squeezed your thigh to try and calm you down but maybe it was because of the alcohol so you just clenched your fists even tighter

“ You’re lucky all I did was push you. I can’t believe you’re about to get married and you’re trying to straddle my fucking boyfriend!”

Akaashi can feel how tense you are so he sits you on the inside of the booth so he can be in the middle between the girl and you. At this point, you’re sitting next to Bokuto and he’s laughing nervously cause he’s never seen you act like this before but he’s a ride or die so hes automatically team Y/N

“ Are you threatening me?”

“ Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?”

“ Y/N stop-”

“ Yeah, listen to your boyfriend bitch.”

“ WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING A BITCH?!”

Before you can lunge over the table, Akaashi keeps his arm out and blocks you from doing so. He turns to the girl and bows his head, trying not to let his own anger consume him,” I think you should leave.”

“ And what if I don’t want to?” The soon to be bride pokes bitterly as she attempts to wrap her arm around Akaashi’s shoulders,” what is your girlfriend gonna do, hit me?”

She’s right, you can’t launch yourself across the table and your arm doesn’t have the reach but you had alternatives. You grabbed a half-drunken glass of some brown rum and you flung the alcohol into the girls face

Everyone at the table was SHOCKED, lowkey including you cause you didn’t even mean to throw the drink in her face it just happened YOU SWEAR it was just an instinct

Who could blame you I mean you were so mad plus you had been watching so many compilations of “ Best Housewives Fights from Bravo” that it was the first thing you could think of

Akaashi, bless him and his brilliant mind, immediately blocked your body with his because the soon to be bride tries climbing into the booth to beat you up and Bokuto also has a protective grip on your wrist to stop you from killing her

LUCKILY before you could spill any blood, security comes and forces the girl to leave your table

At first, you thought Akaashi was mad at you so you kind of pout and tell him how sorry you were but Akaashi doesn’t even care he just makes sure you’re okay

In his head, he knows maybe you were in the wrong for pushing the girl but he would never admit it outloud cause he values his life

My heart swoons for this man

Bokuto on the other hand is slapping your back and shaking your shoulders going,” Holy crap Y/N that was AWESOME!!!”

-Kageyama-

You and Kageyama had only recently started dating so he probably doesn’t have any idea how mad you could get. He’s seen a few times where you’ve gotten upset over school or your family problems but he still didn’t think too much about it

Who was he to be put off at having an easily angered s/o when he was balancing between his own emotions?

Anyway! You were one of Karasuno’s managers and you and Kiyoko got SO CLOSE! The job was super easy and it meant you could spend more time with your boyfriend so win-win!

The only part that was ever hard for you was other guys constantly hitting on you and Kiyoko like damn okay you both were hot as hell but at least treat girls with respect?

You didn’t mind guys telling you that you both were pretty caused duh you two already knew that but most of them were SOOO disgusting and you never let it slide

Before one of Karasuno’s games, you were on the sidelines with Kiyoko chatting about the next match when you could hear some of the guys from the other team trying to get your attention

“ Damn, Karasuno girls really are as fine as they say, they look soooo good.”

“ God, the things I would do if I was alone with them.”

“ I know you two can hear us, turn around so we can see what we’re working with.”

You just kept your eyes locked onto your clipboard because you didn’t want Kageyama to see how fucking crazy you could get but JESUS it was so hard when these two guys were harassing you

“ Kiyoko, I will fucking lose my mind if they come over here. I think I’m going to snap someone’s neck,” You said through gritted teeth as you watched your boyfriend warm up.

“Maybe you should go cool off in the bathroom before the game starts. I’ll let Kageyama-Kun know what’s going on and I’ll meet you in the hallway,” Kiyoko suggested as you gave her prayer hands cause she really do be a queen

You took your clipboard with you as if it was a weapon and stomped out to the bathroom cause you knew if you stayed in that gym any longer, you would cause a scene

You rinsed your face in the bathroom and you took a few deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down

Your friends and family always told you that you needed to get your anger under control and now that you were dating, the last thing you needed was to scare Kageyama off

When you started to head out towards the gym, you felt in the air that something was off like spidey senses but instead, it’s like a creep radar was sounding off in your head

That’s when you saw Kiyoko and one of the guys from earlier cornering her against a wall

You can see that Kiyoko was visibly uncomfortable and you were just about to push your limit

“ I said to leave me alone. I’m waiting for a friend.”

“ Oh, you mean the other manager? I’m telling you, we would treat you like absolute queens at our school-”

“ Hey dude, back the hell off!” You shoved the guy to the side pretty hard to the point where he stumbled back a few good feet,” fucking creep.”

This dude, this mf has the audacity to POST UP TO YOU! You’re not even intimidated by him even though he’s easily half a foot taller than you

Like he’s in your face cause now he’s pissed that this girl actually managed to shove him pretty hard

“ Lay your hands on me again and see what happens.”

“ Are you threatening me? Cause if you are, go on and try to hit me I fucking dare you!”

Kiyoko is like nuh uh not on my watch and while im pretty sure kiyoko can throw fucking hands, she ran to go get Kageyama like “ go get ur girl”

This alerts pretty much the whole team even though they’re supposed to be warming up, they go with Kageyama cause if the boys hear your name and that you need help, they get hella protective

Kageyama slides over to the hallway and sees this dude yelling in your face and he sees red when the guy lays a hand on your shoulder

Before Kageyama can even make it over to you, you smash your clipboard over the guys head so hard, he hits the floor

BUT BRUH once he hits the floor you don’t! Stop! hitting ! him!

Like that clipboard is the perfect weapon oml

“ Don’t! Ever! Touch! Me!” You literally bash him after every word and this dude can’t even fight back like I personally dont feel bad but ummmmm you might commit murder

Kageyama rushes over to you and grabs you so you can stop and he’s trying to calm you down but once the word “bitch” slips out of the guys mouth, Kageyama grabs him by the jersey and is shaking him like a ragdoll

“ Watch your goddamn mouth before I put my fist through it!”

And you’re still heated so you want to basically jump this dude with your boyfriend cause romance ya know but Suga is holding you back ( he highkey struggling)

And now Noya and Tanaka are trying to hold Kageyama back because while they definitely would’ve reacted the same way, they don’t want Kageyama to go overboard

“ What did you just say? Go on and say it again-”

“ Kageyama please!”

“ You’re lucky I’m getting held back-”

“ Y/N! Enough!”

Just two lovebirds threatening a dudes life I love it

Things get resolved pretty quickly thanks to daddy daichi calming everyone down and now it’s time for the match to start

Suga lets go of you when Kageyama walks over and the first thing he does is hug you tightly. He practically squeezes the life out of you like this experience really showed how protective he was

He even admits that while he’s glad you can handle yourself, you shouldn't have to stand up to people alone and 100% doesn’t think you overreacted at all especially when Kiyoko thanks you for sticking up for her

He’s a bit intimidated by how you acted only because he had never saw you that mad before but he doesn’t blame you for how you handled it

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forlornmelody · 3 years

Text

The Fantabulous Vacation of One Harley Quinn and Her Girlfriend Poison Ivy

Rating: T (suggestive themes, cartoon violence)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Linkage: Ao3

Summary: Harley's been burning the wick at both ends and Ivy knows just the thing to help. But it takes more than just a change of scenery to get Harley to let go.

Note: Commission for @rookie009

~*~*~*

“You’re probably wondering Mr---Watchman--”

“Tockman.” Mr. Watchman spits. “William Tockman.”

“Why I’ve brought you here today.”

Mr. Watchman rolls his eyes. “I imagine you’re going to tell me.”

“Ah! Good. You’ve stopped struggling. Progress, Mister!” Harley boops him on the nose. Maybe she made the binding too tight? “I’m not cutting off your circulation, am I?” She leans in close. “Are you comfortable? I need you comfortable.”

“I’m tied up in ropes, wench!”

“Ah, see! This is what I’m talking about!” Harley sits across from him and his fainting couch, pulling her pen from her bun and making a heading on her notepad. “You have a whore madonna complex.” Chewing her pen, she murmurs, “perhaps from the trauma of your wife’s death? Cystic Fibrosis, was it?”

Her new patient says nothing. “Mister?” Harley glances up. “Willy?”

“Help!” William Tockman dangles from his left ankle, suspended in air by a beefy vine. “She’s gonna kill me!”

“Oh please. You’re hardly worth the trouble.” Ivy steps around him and the vine, brushing the dust off her hands. “Hi Harls!” How she got the vines up this far on this abandoned apartment building, Harley has no idea. But it sure has a lot of brick to climb.

“Ivy!” Harley doesn’t so much as hug her as ram her at full speed.

Her target, used to such behavior by now, braces for impact and manages to hug back. Harley takes a big whiff. “Mm. Jasmine?”

“Lilacs.” Ivy peers over at Clock King. “You...uh, busy?”

“Mm yeah. A little tied up at the moment. Or he is, at least.”

“So I see.” Ivy chews her lip, staring out the window as if she had left a reminder there. She makes a face as the draft stirs some of the painting tarp discarded on the floor. “I was thinking maybe we could get out of town for a bit.”

“HELP.”

“Are you asking for help, Billy? Or do you prefer Willy?”

“HELP ME! THESE WOMEN ARE CRAZY.”

“Great!” Harley says brightly. “Admitting you need help is the first step towards healing!”

“Harls? Are you even listening?”

“You need help dismantling another CEO along with his company?”

“No.”

“Fundraiser for conservation efforts?”

“Harley--”

“Pride pre-game with Kitty?”

“Harleen.” That stops Harley short. Ivy never calls her that. Mostly cause she hates getting called Pamela with an undying passion. Probably childhood trauma. But Harley digresses.

Ivy sighs. “Sorry. Look. I need a vacation. We need a vacation.”

“I need help!”

“SHUT UP ALREADY.” Ivy and Harley say it together, and Ivy waves a hand, muffling Harley’s captive, er, patient with a particularly broad leaf.

“Mm... I’m a little busy--”

Ivy glances at Tockman, finally. “I can see that.”

“Lemme look at my calendar. Mmm.. maybe...next year? Definitely the one after that.”

“Harls.”

“I know, I know. But there’s my derby team, missions with Task Force X, the Birds of Prey, my day job--”

“I know.” Ivy takes her hands, gently, and squeezes them. It’s the softness that stops Harley in her tracks. “It’s why you need some time off.”

“But--”

“Shh. I already have plane tickets and a hotel booked. You don’t have to plan a thing.”

Harley can’t help the blush creeping up on her cheeks. “Aww, shucks, Ives. When are we leaving?”

“Now. The plane’s departing in--shit. We gotta go.”

“MMRPH.”

“Oh, right.” Ivy releases Clock King with a patented thud as she shoves Harley out the door. “Bye!”

-----

“So, we’re we goin’?” Harley pushes the arm rest out of the way and rests her chin on Ivy’s shoulder. She glances at Ivy’s phone as if it’ll give her some clues. She spots a sudoku puzzle. “Japan?”

“No.”

“The Amazon?”

“Nope.”

“Themyscyra?”

Ivy gives her a look. “Really?”

“Er��.my mom’s? Please say it’s not my mom’s.”

“It’s not your mom’s.”

“Thank God.”

“Also, why would we fly to your mom’s house when we could easily drive? Or take a commuter bus?”

“Good point. Mm.”

Ivy smooths Harley’s hair out of her eyes. “It’s a surprise.” She snatches a quick kiss before the flight attendant rolls by. “You’ll love it.”

In this moment, Harley’s pretty sure she’d love anywhere as long Ivy’s there with her. She’s lit up by the light of the tiny window behind her, and her crimson locks glow like an angel’s. But Harley knows well enough that neither of them are anywhere close to innocent. “Say, how’d you get us past security?”

Ivy winks at her.

“No casualties?”

Her lover mockingly brushes her own chest like a scandalized church mouse. “I would never!” she snorts. “They’ll be fine. Just a little dazed and confused.”

Harley leans her head on Ivy’s shoulder. “I know the feelin’.” And really! Harley’s proud of her. Ivy’s never been one to follow rules or care for humans. But she tries for Harley. Why she bothers when Mistah J never seemed to care, Harley has no idea. But it means the world to her.

-----

The taxi drops them off in front of a large revolving door. But it’s not the gold handles that capture Harley’s attention.

It’s the lush plants growing from every nook and cranny on the place. Harley bets Ivy could spend an hour naming all of them (scientific names and personal names.) Butterflies and hummingbirds in every color of the rainbow--and the faint buzzing of bees. A solitary stream crosses their path, and a wooden bridge stretches over it. Garden terrace after garden terrace rise up from the ground to an open-air cafe at the top.

And behind the walls and the hotel proper? A waterpark.

Harley’s eyes go as big as saucers. “Ivy! You shouldn’t have!” She squeezes her into a hug.

“Thanks, sweet pea, but I can’t breathe.” Ivy manages to get out.

“Oof, sorry. Here ya go.” Harley releases her, and Ivy pecks her on the cheek.

“Best part is, they’ve a zero-carbon footprint and they’re waste free.” Harley rarely sees her grin so wide.”

“Whoa.”

“They call it The Greenhouse.”

-----

Their first day at the resort passes in a blur. Harley shows Ivy a good time in and out of their bedroom. They go snorkeling in the ocean, ride the rides so many times Harley ends up upchucking their picnic at the beach, then make love at sunset in their honeymoon suite. Harley wonders if the management thinks they’re--well, they’re as good as, aren’t they? They don’t need rings or a wedding or a place of their own or--

“Harley?”

She blinks. Ivy only calls her that when she’s worried. Harley realizes she’s been staring at the chocolates on their pillows for God knows how long. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Of course!” she says automatically, pulling Ivy into another kiss.

Ivy kisses back, then runs a finger down her cheek. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” The setting sun makes her hair even redder, which Harley didn’t think possible, and Harley finds herself toying with her curls.

“Hey, I’ve been wonderin’.”

If Ivy notices the change in subject, she doesn’t mention it. “Yeah?”

“How come we haven’t seen any other guests? And how come we haven’t been arrested?”

“Oh! That.” Ivy waves a hand dismissively. “I rented out the whole resort.”

“With what money??”

Ivy shoots her a wicked look that sends shivers down Harley’s spine. “Ace Chemical’s investment fund.”

“Ooooh, you’re naughty.”

Harley dives in for another kiss but Ivy puts a finger to her lips. And doesn’t let her suck on it. Rude. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Since we’ve got all this extra cash, wanna make a run at the casino? I hear they donate the proceeds to rainforest restoration.”

“Alright.” Ivy sighs and reaches for her dress. Harley has a sinking feeling that she’s going to bring this up later. Maybe if Harley’s lucky she’ll forget about it? Yeah. Ivy forgets things all the time.

“Last one there buys the first round!”

-----

Ivy and Harley sit across from each other, an immaculate brunch setting between them and two mimosas. Her lover’s plate sits almost empty, and while Harley’s lies largely untouched. She keeps playing with her veggie egg white omelet, but the next bite never seems to make it to her mouth. “And then we can go for a walk on the beach later! Have you seen those beds? Right there on the water? Mm. Do you think anyone would hear us if we--”

“Harley, wait.”

“Like, the sound of the waves would cover it up, right? Mm. Maybe not. I’m loud. Not as loud as--”

“Harley, no. Stop. Stop.” Ivy presses her hands on either side of Harley’s face, drawing her to a standstill and inches away from her. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to!”

Ivy gives her a sad smile, shaking her head gently. “You don’t have to impress me, Harls. I love you.”

Harley, in typical Harley fashion, vibrates with energy. “But…I want this to be special. As special as y--”

“This vacation already is special. Cause you’re here with me.”

“But--” I’m not that special, Harley wants to say. But she knows Ivy won’t let her get away with saying that out loud. She wants to crawl underneath the tablecloth and hide until Ivy leaves. They always leave in the end. Once they get what they want. Mistah J--

“I love you, Harley Quinn.” Ivy takes her hand, gently, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And maybe. Maybe it’s that she doesn’t know what to do if Ivy stays. It’s easier to love someone who doesn’t love her back. It’s safe. Ahem. Emotionally safe, Dr. Quinzel says inside her head. For once, Harley has nothing to say. She’s too busy trying to keep the tears from falling.

“You don’t have to do anything. I already love you.” Ivy bites her lip--the way she always does when she’s thinking hard. Like how best to resurrect a drooping petunia or a rose bush that has a pest. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “And if it’s not too much--too early--to say this: I always will.”

“You proposin’ or somethin’?” The words tumble out of Harley’s mouth before she can stop them. Her cheeks feel like they’re blushing as bright as Ivy’s hair.

“I…” Ivy’s eyes widen. “I-I don’t have a ring on me.”

Shit. Fuck. ShitshitshitFuuuuuuuuuck. “I’msorryIdidn’tmeanit.” “It’s way too soon.” Harley puts on her best brave face--the same one she always put on when Bats showed up and Mistah J magically was nowhere to be found. “Marriage is so outda--”

“Harley.” Ivy puts her entire hand over her face. “Quinn.” “I never said I didn’t want to marry you.”

“Mmphwr?”

“Who wouldn’t want to marry Harley Quinn? You’re amazing.” She traces her eyebrows. “You’re the smartest person I know.” Boops her nose. “You’re impossible to kill. Holy fuck.” Runs her fingertip across her bottom lip. “You…” Ivy presses her lips together, looking down at the table. “You helped me love again when I hated everyone.”

“Pam.” Fuck, she’s getting misty eyed.

“I mean it. I was ready to wipe humanity off the map and start over.” She laughs a little, her voice rough as she wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “But then you came along and nominated yourself my new shrink.”

“Don’t give me all the credit.” Wow, okay. Maybe she’s more than just misty-eyed. “You saved me too. From Mistah Jay. From Bats. From what woulda been a really boring life.”

Ivy’s smile slips slightly. “You’re not gonna die on me, are you Harls?”

Harley squeezes her hand. “Nah. You’re stuck with me.” Her words come out a little thick. “For richer or poorer.”

Her lover leans in close, capturing her lips in a warm kiss. “That’s usually pretty literal for you.”

“HEY.”

“It’s true! Guess I’ll have to see if Ace or maybe Lexcorp has any funds they won’t miss. I need to get that ring soon. Garnet? Spinel maybe?”

“Aww, shucks. How am I gonna be surprised now?”

Ivy scoffs. “If it’s a real surprise, it’s not a good time for a proposal.”

“But what if I want to be like those girls in those Tik Toks? Like where you propose to me but like I got my own box in my pocket?”

“Harley. A ring box wouldn’t fit in your tiny ass pockets, and you know it.”

“You know what would fit in my shorts?”

“Harleen Francis Quinzel.” Her laughter dissolves in a kiss and Harley pulls her back to their suite. They got a lot of planning to do. Though Harley has a pretty good feeling they’re not gonna get a whole lot of planning done today. But Harley’s okay with that. Pam’s always been the top of her to-do list anyway.

#harlivy #DC comics #poisonquinn #harley quinn #poison ivy #clock king #fluff isn't my usual so PLEASE tell me what you think #so sugary sweet you're gonna need to brush your teeth #melody writes #fluff

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make-sterek-canon · 3 years

Text

That night I saved you || PolArm oneshot (KinnPorsche The Series)

Getting hurt being somebody's bodyguard is part of the job. It's inevitable.

Getting killed is another thing entirely. In Pol's eyes, it's unacceptable. Even more if the one at risk is Arm.

“That night I saved you”

[Pol’s POV] (Italics = emphasis/others; italics and bold = thoughts)

Extremely warm night. Sticky climate. His suit is completely ruined from all the sweat and dirtiness. There's also some blood mixed in there. Snot too, probably. Pol can't tell.

He's holding Arm down with one hand and the gun with the other. Arm is unconscious and not even responding to any external stimulus. All Pol can feel is his heart beating in his chest. Too slow to be noticed but it's something, some hope in the dark situation they're in.

Pol needs to get Arm out of there and fast or he'll lose him, and he's definitely not ready to say goodbye just yet. Maybe not ever.

He pushes the button on his earpiece but dead silence welcomes him from the other side. He takes off the damn thing rather violently. Time to put into action his last resort then.

"Pete! Pete!" His shouts fill the air. The bullets are still flying around and there's too much noise. He waits a few seconds, then tries again. Calling Pete desperately. Unrelenting sweat is falling down his face and neck, wetting even more his white (not anymore) shirt.

"Here!" He hears, and he sighs in relief.

"Listen! Can you handle it? I need to get Arm some help, he's in bad shape!"

"Go, I'll cover you!

That's all he needs to get going. Ducked behind a pile of sturdy-looking boxes, Pol tries to pinpoint Pete's position so he'll know where to move. Judging by his shouts he might be somewhere to the right and if Pol remembers correctly there's an exit that way. He needs to move to reach it though and it's easier said than done since he still has to protect both himself and Arm from getting hit by stray bullets. The only way is staying crouched while dragging Arm's motionless body.

Unresponsive as his fellow is, Pol is taking longer to do just that. He also needs to call someone to come and get them because they took Pete's car this time and of course he's the one that has the keys.

Pol curses under his breath. He'll definitely make a copy for next time. If there was a next time. There is still the possibility that none of them will survive the night after all.

After countless and torturous minutes he finds himself closer to the right side exit. This abandoned warehouse is big but not enough to get yourself lost.

Fortunately, no one has seen them and Pol hopes it stays that way for a bit longer.

"Hang in there, Arm. We're almost out."

He hasn't moved yet and Pol is starting to think that he's been dragging a corpse all along, but the sole thought is quickly getting to him and there's no time to lose.

The air is even more stickier and dense outside than inside the building, and Pol is heavily wheezing from the effort. Resting Arm's back against the facade, he places a hand on his chest to support him while taking the phone out with his free hand. Scratch that. He decides against it when not even two seconds have passed. They were not going to make it if they had to wait for someone from the major clan to come.

"Think, Pol. Think..."

Raising his eyes he suddenly notices an old gray Sedan some meters away, parked on the side of the smaller building, part of the main one but detached.

"This better work."

Hauling Arm as carefully as his own banged up body allows him, he walks to the vehicle. It should be easy to open since its windows are not armored as Pete's and the rest of their cars. Or if it's a getaway car as Pol suspects he could probably find the keys nearby, placed there for the owner to grant a fast escape.

First things first, he rests Arm against the car and checks to make sure it isn't open before looking for the keys. Crouching close to the driver's side tire Pol sticks his hand in the space between the car's fender and the tire, finding the keys on top of it. Bingo. After grabbing them he gets up and when a shot rings out, his hand opens on instinct dropping them to the ground. The bullet impacts against the gravel right next to where Arm is and Pol's breath stops working for a second, scared that he might have been hit.

"Where do you think you're going, scum? Put your hands up and turn around. Slowly."

Pol does as he's told, facing the man. He's pretty much average looking, not as big in size as Pol and he's definitely tired if his labored breathing is any indication. He has to take him down. And fast.

The quietness doesn't last long when the man steps forward with his gun still raised. The distance is shorter and Pol takes that chance to surprise his enemy, crouching down and getting some gravel to throw it to his face. That gets him a shout in response and he promptly throws himself against the man next to take the gun away. It flies off somewhere. But that's not the end of it. The man only needs a moment to collect himself and he attacks Pol. Avoiding blow after blow, he counterattacks when he has the opportunity, but he's not fast enough to block a sudden kick to the ribs. Falling to his knees in agonizing pain, Pol raises his head to look at the man, who's got a karambit and is brandishing it right in front of his face.

"Very nice... Just stay there like the dog you are. Fucking useless." He snickers and Pol flinches in disgust. "Your fuck-buddy must be dead, huh? Don't worry, you'll be following him soon enough..."

Pol glances Arm's way and his eyes tear up but he bites down hard on his lower lip to prevent the tears from falling. It's highly efficient since the pain distracts him from feeling anything else. He's not going to give the bastard the satisfaction to seeing him cry. Not for his own life, but for his fallen friend. The defiant look Pol sends the man's way makes him smile sadistically.

"Ah, that look... I'm so gonna enjoy butchering you like I would do a pig..."

A sudden movement causes Pol to look behind the man, a bit to his left. The man notices but it's not enough for him to turn around or even move. There's no time since he already has a bullet embedded in his skull. The dead body falls forward right into Pol but he moves before it touches him.

Still kneeling, he looks up at the shooter. Vegas.

"Empty promises... I hate people who are all bark and no bite the most." He says, with a gravely tone full of disdain.

And suddenly it's like a staring contest. But this time there's neither winner nor loser.

"Where's Pete?"

Pol is not sure if he should answer though he somehow knows that Vegas means no harm to his friend.

"Still inside."

"Get the fuck out of here or I'll finish you off. Less Kinn's bodyguards means less threats to my clan."

"Why won't you then?"

"What?"

"Finish us off."

"Let's just say that a certain someone wouldn't like that. Be grateful."

Guess who.

With nothing more to say, apparently, Vegas turns around and walks to the main building, gun in hand and ready. You can still hear some commotion happening inside. Pol watches him go for a second before getting up to get the keys from the gravel to open the car. He checks on Arm then, looking for his pulse in the neck. It's there. Weak, but there. Pol heaves a sigh of relief.

Getting him inside the car is not as easy at it looks but he manages to lay him down on the back seats. Pol is still not sure how is he that unconscious but he suspects he was brutally hit with something, and he worries that Arm might have a concussion since he's bleeding quite profusely from the head.

The road is completely empty on their way back and Pol speeds through it with too little care for anything else than getting Arm the help he needs.

Pol is so focused that he swerves and almost goes off the road when his phone rings unexpectedly, strident in the silent car.

His heart still in his throat, he answers after a few more tones ring.

"Pol, it's Pete."

"Hey... How are things there?" He asks the best he can, trying to steady his racing heart so it could return to normal.

"Calmer. I- I think we did it. The cargo is ours" Pete's voice is wavering a little, and Pol is not going to ask how they got it since he already knows. They had outside help and if Boss Korn found out he'd be anything but happy. But he won't say a thing. He's never been a whistleblower and he won't start now.

"Casualties?"

"Not many. We came prepared after all."

"Yeah..." Pol distractedly says, looking at Arm through the rearview mirror.

"What about Arm? Where are you taking him?"

"Where do you think?"

"Dr. Top? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Pol grips the steering wheel so hard that both his hands start hurting, and he asks with his teeth clenched. "I don't have many options at the moment, or do I?"

He doesn't trust the man either but it's also true that there's nobody else they can go to. Dr. Top is as mysterious as he is a good doctor, and he'll treat Arm fairly.

"Ok, ok. Do what you have to do."

Running a trembling hand through his thick and slightly sweaty hair, Pol exhales slowly. "Pete, Arm... he... I'm not sure if he's alive. He hasn't moved or anything since before we left. He had a pulse when I got him into the car, but it was weak. He... he may be dead for all I know and fuck, I'm not okay with that..."

"Pol, you need to calm down," Pete says softly. "It's going to be okay, you hear me? He's gonna be alright. He's one of the toughtest men I know. So stop thinking. It's definitely not helping."

"It's just-"

"No, and whatever you might want to say? Just keep it for when he comes around. Okay? Call me when you get there."

"Yeah."

"Pol."

"Yeah, alright. I'll call you."

"And... ?"

"Stop thinking. I got it the first time, Pete."

"Just in case you forgot."

"Right... See you."

"See ya."

Then Pol hears a "Vegas, what the f-" and suddenly the line is cut off.

He doesn't move or says anything for a while, but the silence becomes too much and he feels the need to fill it.

"Vegas came to help... Can you imagine? That sadistic bastard helping us... Well, more like helping Pete." Pol mumbles, looking in the rearview mirror from time to time. "He saved my life. I'm not sure if I should be grateful or scared. I owe him, big-time." He doesn't know what comes into him but in a flash, Pol hits the steering wheel quite violently. "Fuck, Arm. Talk. Open your damn eyes. Can you at least hear me?" Regret washes over him the second he explodes. "I can't believe I'm doing this... I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry. I should have been there for you sooner. If you die...” Don't you dare die on me.

The Anakinn residence comes into sight, imposing and in complete darkness except for the lights on the front facade.

Next to it, Dr. Top's house lies. It kinda looks like a cabin and it has all the comodities and necessities but if he lives there is basically because it is in his contract. Other than that, he comes and goes at will. No questions asked.

Getting out of the car Pol opens the back door to take Arm out. He doesn't even care about leaving the car open since it's not his and carries Arm bridal style towards the house. The entrance light turns on before he reaches the wooden door and it opens, showing the doctor in silky maroon pajamas. He's the definition of tall, dark and handsome. That's probably why Boss Tankhun and Vegas' brother Macao are head over heels for the man.

"Sleeping, Doc?"

The man smirks for a microsecond and urges Pol to get inside. "Leave him on the dining room table." He quickly follows the orders. It was like someone had told the doctor that they were coming because the table was clearly prepared for an emergency. Leaving him there, Pol steps back. That's when he takes a moment to evaluate Arm's state by himself. He's too damn pale. But other than that he looks like he's sleeping.

"Can you tell me what happened to him?" The doctor asks while checking Arm for vitals and shining a light into his eyes.

"I don't really know. I wasn't even close when it happened." Pol explains. "But I guess he was hit with some kind of weapon or thrown against something..." He stops talking, swallowing hard when he notices that his voice is breaking.

"It must be a concussion... Has he been unconscious the whole time?"

So I was right. Pol nods, not trusting his voice just yet.

"I'm gonna need you to be vocal, Pol. Get yourself together and talk."

"Y- yeah, he's been like that since I found him lying on the ground."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Pol clenches his fists. Son of a...

"Okay, you can wait outside. Drink some water. Eat something. Do whatever you want, but get out of my sight."

"What? No-"

"Yes, Pol. You're making me uncomfortable, and you don't want Arm to suffer the consequences, right?"

Frowning and still with his fists clenched, he barks a resounding negative, storming out of the dining room after glancing at Arm for a brief second.

If he lets himself get carried away and closes the door with more force than necessary nobody can really blame him.

Pol doesn't know how much time he spends sitting on that awfully orange colored sofa, but he's been dozing off for a while, his eyes opening and closing non-stop.

But he knows he obviously lost the battle when he's startled awake by a hand shaking him. His own grabs that hand determined to get it off him in the worst way possible but he's promptly stopped by a familiar voice calling his name. "Pol, it's me."

Pete's delicate face welcomes him when he opens his eyes. "Pete. You're here." Surprise follows and he sits upright. "Why are you here? I thought you were with V-"

"He dropped me off and went back to work. He's got some unfinished business to attend..."

"Yeah, I can only imagine." Pol snorts, running a hand through his hair and clearing his throat. He feels it scratchy, like something got stuck there.

"Have you drank or ate anything? I don't want to be that person but you look bad..." And it must be true when his friend is looking at him in such a worrisome way. He doesn't even get upset for not having called him.

"I just can't... I feel like throwing up every time I think about it. Arm..." The reality hits Pol in that exact moment he remembers why he's in the state he is in. "Fuck. Arm. Pete, how is he? Do you know? Has the doctor talked to you? Is Arm... ?"

"Stop. Man, you're freaking out and that's not going to help either of you," Pete tries to calm Pol, taking his hands between his. "He's alive. He's fine. But he's not waking up. Dr. Top said that it'll probably take some more time for him to come to his senses. He also said that he's suffering from a severe concussion and that he's lucky he has no brain damage. So it's just a matter of time until he..."

"I want to see him." Pol declares, getting up in such a rush that it desestabilizes him for a second.

"You're going to hurt yourself even more. So stubborn..." Pete mutters, frowning while holding him by the elbows. "Has Dr. Top checked you up? Ah, don't bother answering. I already know what you're gonna say. Sit, for fuck’s sake."

"I need to see him," Pol almost begs. He just wants to see with his own eyes that Arm is alive. Is that so hard to understand?

"No, it's not." It's almost as if his friend had read his thoughts but he just said it aloud. "You know, it should have come as a surprise... but it just makes perfect sense. You are always together, and don't let me get started with those meaningful stares and little touches... Say, when you do you think it all started?"

"What do you mean?" He's still not ready to admit it out loud. Not if he can help it. So he chooses to play dumb instead.

Too bad Pete doesn't think the same.

"When did you fall in love?"

"You're being more nosy than usual..."

"I'm just curious."

"Should I ask you the same then? About you and that... man?" Pol answers back, quite forcefully.

Pete stills for a moment, with his eyes being the only thing giving him away. "I guess I deserved that one."

Feeling bad, Pol quickly backpedals. "No, I'm sorry. I just don't want to talk about it. It's not the moment nor the place."

"You're right," Pete shrugs sending him a tiny smile. "But don't think this is over."

"Oh, trust me. If I know you, and I think I do quite well, I just know you're not dropping it out anytime soon."

"Just delaying it. Because you look awful and I pity you."

Pol can barely contain a laugh. Pete is that good. He's a ray of sunshine among the darkness that lives within them. Even when he's had it really bad himself. Being a ball of happiness is his greatest charm.

"Okay, jerk, now make yourself useful and take me to him."

“Methinks you should ask nicely,” Pete pouts, obviously faking being upset.

“Well, me thinks you're being ridiculous.”

“Ah, you're no fun...” Sighing, Pete puts an arm around Pol's waist, and he instinctively puts his right arm around Pete's shoulder as support. "Alright then, I'll take you to your lover boy. He's rocking the Sleeping Beauty look, let me tell you."

"I'm telling him once he wakes up."

"Oh yeah? Then I'll tell Boss Tankhun to punish you later.

Pol snorts. "As if I hadn't had enough beatings for two lifetimes..."

"At least you weren't almost killed like a million times. Those guys were ruthless. The bullets kept coming and I thought I was a goner."

"You don't know the half of it," he mutters shaking his head, remembering how Vegas had saved his ass. Probably the same way he had saved Pete's if you think about it.

It seems like while Pol was asleep Dr. Top had moved Arm from the dining room to the guest room that was next to the kitchen and the toilet. Not by himself, of course, but with Pete's help.

The bedroom is neither big nor small, and it looks cozy with that warm wall decor paper beige colored with golden motifs. There are some paintings and portraits here and there, and a wardrobe in the bottom right corner, not too far from the full sized bed.

Arm lies there, still a bit too pale but he doesn't look like he's dying anymore. Pete was right in his Disney comparison and Pol cracks a smile.

"Whistle if you need me. I'll be in the living room." Pete interrupts his train of thought and he just nods, following his friend with his gaze as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

Turning around, Pol walks to the bed and sits on the right edge, facing Arm. His hand moves before he can think about it and he places it over Arm's heart. His heartbeat is steady and Pol closes his eyes to calm himself. They're both safe and together. Together... As if the touch was burning him he removes his hand from Arm's chest.

"I'm going crazy... There's no other explanation." Pol sighs, running a hand through his hair as a nervous gesture. "You really need to wake up, Arm. That doctor freaks me out and I don't like the thought of you spending the night here. I want us to go home."

It's right then when Pol notices that Arm's hand is palm up on the sheets in a clear invitation. After clenching and unclenching his fist a few times, he closes the distance and grabs Arm's hand with his own, lacing their fingers. He's almost tempted to kiss the back of his hand, but what he does is leaning towards Arm to whisper in his ear in a soft tone: "Are you going to leave me hanging? I didn't peg you as a cruel man..."

At first Pol thinks it's his brain playing tricks on him or maybe a muscle reflex but when it happens again it makes him lose his breath. Something is squeezing his hand. Leaning back a little, he looks into Arm's chocolate eyes, unblinking. Awake at last.

"We're even then, because neither I pegged you as a romantic man..." His voice sounds extremely hoarse but it's like music to Pol's ears.

Wetting his lips, he smiles from ear to ear. "Ass."

This time, neither of them smile in solitude.

~~o~~

Hi!

Writing this second oneshot was a challenge. It almost killed me, haha. But it was fun and I loved writing it. So worth it!

I hope you guys like it ^^

Here’s the first ArmPol oneshot I wrote. This one is a continuation. Kind of~

I’ll probably write a third one (last?) and maybe a Vegas/Pete spin-off!

Now go give the teaser for the series some love.

Thank you! <3

~Aeriel

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #polarm #armpol #jobbas #basjob #fanfiction #my creations

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Note

okkkk so how do you think this particular situation would go down, I desperately need to know bc your portrayal of tomura and your writing is just 😍but anywaYS what do you think would happen if someone from the league or Tomura himself killed the reader’s very close friend either on accident or as collateral damage of a big fight between the league and someone else?? And he has no clue who the person was & he didn’t care til y/n comes up to him completely destroyed like ‘did you kill them?’

eeeeeeeee.

in short, likely not too well.

warnings: angst, death, mentions of blood and gore

You are clutching at your phone when you hear the hideout’s front door open and creak closed.

It’s dark in your room and the only light is the electronic gleam of your cellphone. You can hear them all laughing, talking, dispersing, and no doubt giving themselves a pat on the back for another job well done. Fucking havoc and ruin managed, time to turn in.

Tomura is usually the first to drift up the stairs and you can hear his footfalls, pacing heavily along the creaking wood. He pauses in front of your door, but someone calls to him before he can enter and he steps away, his footsteps fading into nothingness.

Good, you think, finally lowering your phone. You’re not ready to see him, you’re not ready to talk about this. No, talking about it would make it feel real, and making it real is going to be a problem.

Yes, you know that Tomura is a villain, fuck, a killer. You’re not stupid. You realize that none of this lines up with anything normal, anything safe, or anything right. But, the call you received a few hours earlier had shocked you.

It had been months, hell, years since you’d heard from her, or her mother.

Her mother’s voice was faint, broken and distant. She said she didn’t know who else to call. She knew you worked in the area, that you had...connections. She just wanted to know where her daughter was, where your friend was. Apparently, her last known whereabouts were around the Tokyo area, close to the UA campus, too close to where the last strike that Tomura had ordered had taken place.

Nothing was confirmed.

There wasn’t enough of the bodies left to do that. Most were identified by shattered bone remnants, teeth fragments, or bits of scraped up mitochondrial DNA. Some were charred, others beaten, and the last bunch were sliced into ribbons, marred with either deep cuts, or shallow, well placed nicks, designed to do the most damage, to cause the most blood loss.

Nevertheless, it was the last place she had been seen and it’s the last major skirmish the League had participated in. There was no coincidence, no misunderstanding, no room for doubt. Your friend, one whom you’d known since childhood, was most likely dead.

She had either been decayed, burnt, or mutilated. Either way, dead is dead and you can’t bear look at any of them, as they laugh and joke down below. You also can’t fathom how stupid you’d been, how naive. And you certainly don’t want to see him.

You should leave. He’d likely let you. Make up some excuse and go far, far away, to wallow in your guilt and your uncomfortable denial.

You hear his footsteps again and your head snaps up, your eyes bright with unshed tears. He pads past your room and you hear him open his own door. The others will likely be downstairs for hours, but you can slip out now, disappear before he even realizes that you’re gone. You stand and as you tug out your duffle another thought slips into your mind: Or, you can confront him. See if he denies it, see if he remembers seeing her, if he admits to killing her, if he fucking shows you any shred remorse. She was your friend and he likes to say that he cares for you. Let’s see if that’s true. Put it to the test, once and for all. Then, then you can leave, you bargain.

Shoving the empty duffle bag onto your bed, you stalk out the your door before you can blink, feet whisking you to his familiar doorway, your fingers shaking as you twist the knob and yank, flooding his dim room with the weak light of the hall.

He’s sitting on his bed, and his lean, bare, back is facing you, his dark shirt hanging on his forearms, half tugged off. He turns at the groan of his hinges and he blinks up at you, his eyes wide, red irises gleaming.

“Figured you were asleep,” he remarks as you close the door, leaning heavily against the wood, steadying your breaths. He peers over you, his eyes softening as they linger on your face, and he flings his shirt away, discarding the dark fabric onto the ill kept floor. Once he processes your stony expression he pauses, his head lowering, a frown creeping over his lips. “What?”

You let his question hang and take one more gulp of air, wincing your eyes closed, and steeling yourself for the horrors that are about to wash over you. Ready or not, you’re going to ask.

“That mission that you did, the one by UA, how many people...I mean...w-was it it in a populated area?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be. It was supposed to take place on a back street. The heroes shifted us onto the main road. Why are you asking this? I thought you didn’t want to know about--”

“So there were civilians involved? Everyday people? Normal people, going about their day? There were...they...” you can’t spit out your real question and you clench your fingers into your palms, indenting tiny crescents into your skin.

“Yes. Civilians were there. Like I said, the heroes forced us into the open, we had to clear a pathway out. Again, why are you asking about this?”

A dark silence greets his query and that haze of tears is misting over your eyes again. Tomura, noticing your distress, stands and steps toward you, his fingers already reaching for you. Once those digits trace along your skin you bristle, jumping away and thudding clumsily into his side table, nearly toppling the surface and hissing in pain at the sharp sting. Your eyes lift to Tomura’s and he’s staring down at your half sprawled figure, utterly perplexed.

“What the fuck? What’s wrong?” his voice is low, holding that familiar rasp, but there’s an edge of annoyance lingering there, too.

“What’s wrong?” you spit, righting yourself and rubbing your throbbing hipbone. “What’s wrong? Oh...oh nothing. Just the fact that someone I know...fuck...knew...goddamn it...I knew her Tomura. She was my friend and now she’s...well they don’t know what the fuck she is. There’s not enough of her left. They’re having to identify with her DNA. There’s not even anything to bury. They’ll have to put an empty coffin into the ground. Her mother will...

The last place she was seen was right outside that street. She was buying a...fuck, I don’t even know...but she was living her life and then someone...no...not someone...you, you took it from her. How...how...” your voice breaks and you crumple to the dusty floor, burying your face in your hands, your tears falling wet and hot as they drip through the cracks in your fingers.

Tomura is stock still above you, unsure and completely wrong footed. He doesn’t shift toward you though, no he remains and he watches, his fingers itching, palms tingling to reach for you.

He doesn’t like this, no, he doesn’t like this one fucking bit. But what can he do? What did you think? Things happen. He didn’t know. He didn’t fucking know. He wants to tell you that, but it doesn’t undo the hurt, it doesn’t rewind the death. It’s too late. All he can do now is watch as a deep welling of self loathing passes over his mind, trickling up his spine and making every hair stand on edge. The true horror of the situation hits him like a freight train and he gulps heavily, trying to maintain his own composure. He’s going to lose you, you’re going to leave. He’s going to...you...you won’t...you’ll go. He’ll be alone...

After a few minutes, you steady yourself again, angrily brushing tears from your lashes, rubbing at your face until it stings from the friction. Your eyes flick up to Tomura, but he’s still rooted to the same spot, his eyes burning as he watches you. You fall onto your bottom, your legs splaying under you, fingers snatching at the edge of your shirt, balling and rolling the fabric, anxious and agitated. You start to shake, but you finally manage to press on, voice soft and whisper thin.

“I know you didn’t know...I didn’t even know she was still in Japan. I haven’t seen her in years. Her m-mother...her mother called me. I didn’t even realize until a few hours ago...I don’t know why I didn’t think...I know what you do. I know that there are always casualties in...whatever the fuck this is. War? Terrorist attacks? But fuck, Tomura, this isn’t changing anything. It’s just hurting the little people. The insignificant players. The ones who are trying to go about their day to day--”

“They don’t get a fucking pass just because they’re normal people, (Y/N),” Tomura growls, his tone taking on a ragged bite. “They live in this society, they prop up and support the systems. They wallow in their apathy and laziness, always thinking that the heroes will clean it up, the heroes will take care of it. Everything has a cost.

What do you think we’re doing? What do you think you’ve been helping us with? Do you understand now? Do you see? Society can’t change unless it’s uprooted and destroyed. That’s not a blood less task. Yeah, I might have killed her. Dabi might have killed her. Or Toga, or Twice, or Compress, or Spinner, or a fucking mix of all six of us might have killed her.

I don’t have time to hold up a picture of your loved ones before I engage in a fight. If...if you can’t...fuck. What do you want me to say (Y/N)? I can’t bring her back. Saying sorry does nothing and I’m not going to insult you with halfhearted apologies. I’m fucking not. So, if that’s what you’re wanting to hear--”

“I don’t know what I wanted. I don’t know what I expected,” you mumble, but Tomura stops his preamble at the sound of your voice, listening, waiting, knowing you’re about to wash your hands of the whole thing.

Wash your hands of him.

Even if you leave, he won’t kill you. He can’t. You mean too much to him. Fuck, he thinks he loves you. He’s never said it, but he should have. Fuck, fuck. He should have said so many things, told you what you mean to him, given you more, listened more, held you more, but there’s no time now and anything he tells you to fill that gap will just sound hollow.

You lift yourself to your feet, legs unsteady and wobbling, propping your hand against the wall. “I’m going back to my room,” you tell him, slipping past his tense form and letting yourself back into the hall, your feet heavy and head lowered.

You should pack, you think as you kick off your shoes and strip down to your underwear, sliding onto your cool sheets. You should be tossing everything you can into that duffle and disappearing into the night. But all you can seem to do is curl up on your bed, wrapping your cold arms around yourself, and sobbing out the last of your frustrations and hurts.

It’s late when your door opens and you don’t turn to look at him, you can’t. Still, you let him slip beside you, his warmth soothing some of the lingering tremors that are dancing along your spine, making you quake. He clings to you, pressing soft kisses against your neck, telling you that he’s glad you’re still here. He’s circumspect and quiet, but he won’t let you go, moving each time you do, keeping you tucked against him, his strong arms caging you close.

Hours pass, and the only noise in the dark room is your shared exhales and distant heartbeats. Finally, as the sun slips over your shaded window, you lace your arms with his, silently accepting his unspoken regret and sorrow. He turns you to him and tilts your face up, lifting you and dropping gentle caresses on your lips.

He won’t change, you know that. It doesn’t undo the hurt. It doesn’t make him less of a murderer. But you can’t go. You can’t leave him. He...he means too much to you. You’re in this now, body and soul, and come hell, come death, come absolute destruction, you’ll stick by him.

(｡•́︿•̀｡)

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on death and sadness #tomura shigaraki #shigraki tomura #tenko shimura #shimura tenko #i am sobbing now #Drabble

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

Chapter One: Blood Stains - Lola

A/N: I am so happy and excited to finally be able to share this with you, it has been my baby for the last couple of months. I would love to know what you think of this first part so do not be scared to let me know your thoughts. I have written this in first person rather than my normal style as felt it fits better with how I had it in my head. Also big shout to @little-diable for sticking with me from the day the idea popped into my head and letting me bounce all my ideas off 💜 love you girl 💜

Falling For Red Masterlist // Join The Group Chat Here // March Writing

Everyone knew bloodstains were a bitch to get out. No matter how much you try, there’s always that faint tint of pink left behind, the faint tint of the victim's blood.

A reminder of the life I had chosen. Well more so a life that chose me.

But yet again another perfectly good white shirt had been ruined by the blood of my victims.

No matter how many times I told herself not to wear white, I never listened and always regretted the decision after the job had been done. Screaming as I threw yet another perfectly good shirt in the trash.

“Another shirt bites the dust aye babygirl?” Blade laughed as he tossed his keys on the table, keeping his eyes trained on me.

“Mmm” I nodded while lighting a cigarette.

“How many times until you learn Lola?” Blade smirked, he knew calling me by my birth name would annoy me as well as taking the cigarette from my lips and taking a drag on it himself before letting it drop into the mug of coffee “and no smoking in the house you know Maddox will kill you if he finds out”

“Please don’t remind me” I snarled pulling my switch knife from my boots “and unless you want to be my fourth victim of the day less of the Lola, you know it’s Red and or babygirl”

“Damn my girl is angsty today” Blade smirked, taking the knife from me, tossing it onto the table before running his hand along the inside of my thigh.

“Damnit Blade stop buttering me up” I glared raising an eyebrow at him “what have you done?”

“Jacob is on his way around” Blade winced taking a step back from Me.

He knew that I didn’t really like his twin brother. There was history there. History that I didn’t like talking about.

“Give me strength” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You could have warned me I’ve had a hard day and just wanted to chill out. Maybe netflix and chilled but no you had to invite your brother around”

“I’m sorry” Blade sighed looking at me with puppy dog eyes. “He said he needed someone to talk to, apparently his wife wants a divorce”

“Fine but he is paying for the pizza” I huffed in defeat as Blade moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Don’t worry babygirl” Blade hummed against my ear before nipping it, causing a low moan to escape“I promise I will make it up to you when he has left”

“You better” I breathed closing my eyes “I’m gonna take a shower, dispose of the bloody shirts yeah, last thing we need it Jacob asking unwanted questions”

“Or I can join you in the shower” Blade breathed against my neck “Jay isn’t gonna be here for at least forty minutes and I’m sure you could do with destressing”

I mentally cursed myself for how my body reacted. They had an agreement. It was just sex. Nothing more. No strings attached. But it seems they had fallen into a nice little routine and to the outside world it was like they were a couple.

Blade knew the effect he had on Lola, her breathing and actions told him everything. And he loved teasing her.

“Mmm I guess you can” I whispered biting her bottom lip.

Just as Blade spun me around and was about to kiss me the doorbell rang.

“You have got to be kidding me right” I growled “I thought you said he wouldn’t be here for another forty minutes”

“That's what he told me” Blade said in defence holding his hand up before realising something “forty minutes ago”

“You are unbelievable” I huffed storming out of the kitchen.

“Where you going babygirl?” Blade laughed at how dramatic I was being.

“To take a shower before I make you my fourth casualty today” I growled “there best be pizza by the time I get back”

Blade shook his head as he answered the door to his brother who raised his eyebrow at him as I stormed up the stairs slamming the bathroom door closed behind me.

I let the hot water soothe my aching muscles. Yes it was a good day three people I had been tracking down for months were now in body bags. But that didn’t mean they didn’t put up a fight. At least I had a couple of days off before the next file came through. Enough time to hit the gym, sharpen my knives and do some maintenance on my guns.

Things were quiet with the rest of the guys on mission. They had been gone for around eight months now. I hated it, I had spent most of my life living with four guys so the house was always loud and there were always people fighting. Mainly me and Nix.

I wasn’t completely heartless. I missed my boys.

Maybe I missed Axel more but maybe it was for the sex. We had a friends with benefits thing going on.

I couldn’t exactly bring guys home, one I was too busy and two everyone was super protective. So when they went on mission I spent more time with Blade, which was nice because with five people living under one roof it was hard to get quality time with my best friend. So for the last seven months me and blade were fuck buddies. God knows what I was going to do when Axel was back.

But that would be a problem for later down the line.

“Damn I’ve missed that view Princess” Axel’s voice appeared as he stood behind me, instantly catching my fist that flew up. “Now that is not the way to greet someone you haven’t seen for months is it?”

“Are you really home?” I smirked, spinning around so I was now pinned between the counter and Axel’s body.

“No we are just figments of your imagination” he smirked “of course we are home you idiot”

“I missed you” I smiled as I wrapped my arms around Axel’s neck.

“Babygirl have you seen my-“ Blade shouted stopping when he saw his brothers gathered in the kitchen. “The boys are home”

“That we are” Phoenix nodded as he poured himself a coffee.

“It’s good to have you back man” Blade grinned. “And alive”

“It was touch and go at one point” Axel sighed as he still held me.

Once Blade had found whatever he was looking for he headed out to the Agency.

“So he’s calling you babygirl now?” Axel smirked, raising his brow at me.

“Urm yeah” I muttered as my skin started to heat up. I thought I would have longer to figure this out before Axel of home.

“I knew it would happen” he whispered brushing his fingers across my bare thighs. “Better him than some random I guess”

“You aren't pissed?” I asked, resting my hands on his chest.

“Nope” he nodded “now I am in desperate need for a shower you coming Princess”

“What about breakfast?”

“Nix take over” Axel commanded not taking his eyes off me, causing Phoenix to groan and stick his middle up.

“So Princess about that shower” Axel hummed against my neck.

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horrorslashergirl · 3 years

Text

Decebal Avram Chirilă Headcanons

Authors Note: I did some Headcanons for my Romania Original Characters and used a lot of history references to depict his character. I think it turned out to be good, but I am very certain. Also, I have no grudge against other countries and such. This is strictly for my character. I mean; just because you create a character that kills that doesn’t mean you support real life murder or you kill yourself. Good, now that we made that clear. ENJOY!

Rebel with a cause; Outlaw by heart

Decebal is someone that both stands out and can blend in, which is a paradox. He stands out mostly because of his very tall form and handsome eccentric features; basically, when he enters a room he lights it up with his attitude. The blend in part is mostly after the big entrance in a room. He is multilingual and can fake accents, which confuses people. For example, he went to Italy multiple times and the local ones there thought at first he was a foreigner, until Decebal put on the Italian accent, speaking it fluently; the locals were confused. Is he Italian? Doesn't look like it.

He doesn't like uncultured people. He is a man who loves to learn about other countries' histories and culture, to broaden his horizons in this aspect. Knowledge is the second most valuable treasure along with Freedom. He is happy to explain culture and information misunderstandings about his country. 'No, dragă. Romanian isn't a Slavic language. It's a Latin language.' He had to explain this way too many times.

History has put a great impact on Decebal; he loves and hates it at the same time. He loves it because you get valuable lessons out of it; for example, in November 1942 Soviet forces launched a counteroffensive against the Germans arrayed at Stalingrad in mid-November 1942. They quickly encircled an entire German army, more than 220,000 soldiers. In February 1943, after months of fierce fighting and heavy casualties, the surviving German forces—only about 91,000 soldiers—surrendered. How did this happen? Stalingrad wasn't an important target, but Hitler wanted to destroy it mostly because of its name that comes from Stalin.... In conclusion, PRIDE destroyed them.

Decebal is anxious around Russians, although he does visit the country, mostly because of Ukraine and Belarus. Decebal is anxious around Russian's because of their history. One issue is that prior to World War I, the Romanians sent their gold reserves to Russia for safekeeping but the Russians did not return the gold after the war. Take it like this; Romania was an ally with Germany and Russia. The German's when they went to brothels, they brought flowers and chocolate, while the Russian beat and raped them. The Romanian women covered themselves with charcoal to make themselves ugly and unattractive to the Russians. Now, Decebal doesn't judge because of your nationality, but if you do prove you are like that, well.... Tough luck. Russia is a nation with power or strength as its national idea and they have repeatedly shown that they do not care about ideals like “legality” or “legitimacy” but respect force and military power only. This trait does not make you popular among your neighbors. Instead, you´re seen as an aggressive jackass who abuses and bullies others.

There are also many reasons why Decebal has anxiety towards Russians, all because of history. Romanians were forced to learn Russian. Romanians who are older still, almost universally, will tell you that they know one phrase in Russian: "Дайте часы!" ("Give me a watch!") Because that's what the Soviet liberating soldiers told every Romanian as they liberated them of their wrist watches (and anything else they fancied) when WW2 ended. Among other things that the Russians liberated from Romanians? The entire Romanian national treasure. Oh, and Moldova. Decebal has Moldovian blood running through his veins. Basically, Romania trusted Russia with its national treasure, Russia being an ally.

Decebal, if he is your ally, won't ever leave you on the battlefield, he is a 'go all the way or die' type. He's tired of how cowardice has affected his country and himself, so he is willing to fight till death. If you have strong beliefs and are passionate about something he will support them. Think of him as a shield of steel.

He hates the dictator-like attitude; he had to endure a lot of that shit and he is in no mood to listen to someone that thinks they're the big bad one just because they induce fear and brutality like an uneducated mindless jackass. Seriously, don't try to impose him with that kind of attitude because at some point his rage will come undone. There's a Romanian saying 'Mi-sa umplut paharul', which basically means that he won't take your shit anymore. Decebal is as scary as he is friendly. You don't wanna see this guy get into that mood. When he gets angry, which rarely happens, there's a cold wind that hits the nape of your neck, a dead silence that makes you wonder what will happen and a shadow casts his face, his almost white eyes illuminating under that shadow. Short story.... If you're the unlucky soul that has angered him, your body will be turned into shish kebab.... very tiny pieces and he will do that oh so slowly.

Getting over these dark vibes, Decebal is a music lover, one of the many things that keep his grin on and his eyes sparkling with life. He has an mp3 player with earphones in the pocket of his jacket and loves to listen to it during the most normal and abnormal times. He will listen to music at night while sitting on the roof of a house/building or..... He will fight with the earphones on and music blasting. He sings, and he is pretty good at it.

Decebal has so many faces that it's hard to really put a label on him. Some see him as a very cultured gentleman with a charismatic personality that brightens every room he enters. Then there are the ones that describe him as a hooligan, a punk, a very vulgar and blunt person who has no shame and mercy. He is really just a way too honest misunderstood guy with a vertebral column that cannot be bend.

He is a guy that appreciates the little things life has to offer. Life during Romanian communism really imprinted on his life. Give him a little piece of bread and he will be grateful to you. The food ration during that time was harsh; no more than half a loaf of bread, not too much meat, or sugar, and so on. Food is a luxury in Decebal's eyes.

Decebal is more used to the night than day, mostly because all his life he spend it in darkness. He spent months in underground jails without seeing the light of the day, losing track of time. Plus the communist government cut off electricity from 6:00 - 8:00 pm each night across the country to preserve energy. He sees in darkness like a cat and his ears are very sensitive.

Decebal loves his home country very much because he knows how much potential this little country has. Romania is Europe’s richest country in gold resources, Romania boasts the world’s largest administrative building, The largest population of brown bears in Europe lives in Romania, The Statue of Decebalus in Orsova is Europe’s largest rock sculpture, The only gold museum in Europe is found in Romania and also Romania has one of the happiest cemeteries on Earth, a reason for why Decebal makes jokes even in the face of death. On each grave there, is written dark humor poetry. Here's an example:

Under this heavy cross

Lies my poor mother in-law

Three more days should she have lived

I would lie, and she would read (this cross).

You, who here are passing by

Not to wake her up please try

Cause’ if she comes back home

She’ll criticise me more.

But I will surely behave

So she’ll not return from grave.

Stay here, my dear mother in-law!

#Decebal Avram Chirilă #Slasher OCs #Original characters #Romanian OC #Killer OC #Headcanons

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atsukashii · 4 years

Text

❝r.i.p to the youth❞ // e. kirishima

SYNOPSIS: ➛ The world has gone to shit and you have lost almost everyone close to you, including Kirishima

» CHARACTER PAIRING: eijiro kirishima x reader

» WORD COUNT: 5.6K cause i have no chill again

» GENRE: apocalyptic au, aged up characters

» WARNINGS: major character death, ANGST with fluff ending, blood, swearing

« masterlist || ao3 »

You were only seventeen when the world had gone to shit. You had been studying with your friends at U.A when you watched the news roll in, villains had popped up everywhere in a large scale attack. After that day, the world had never been the same. Led by Tomura Shigaraki, the league of villains now held hostage the world, ruling it in the very way they knew how. Now labelled The Purge, many of the top heroes were wiped out in the first few months, and more as it followed.

Now today, five years later, you are still trying to survive through an apocalyptic world, where ones who were only students when it started, are now leaders of rebellion… the only force to attempt to rise up against the villain dictatorship. The Rebellion Army was created by pro heroes once the fighting began, however as the years passed, there were newly inducted commanders in charge more frequently than there ever should be. You are one of them. Along with your previous schoolmates and close friends, Izuku, Shouto, Bakugou, Iida, and Momo, somehow you had all become the leaders of the rebellion army. All the previous pro heroes either having been killed or forced into solitude for their safety and the safety of the rebellion. Together, your spread out force had managed to locate some of the existing pro’s, however, they opted to be the voice of reason and advice, and decided to leave the leadership to a bunch of twenty-year-olds. You were inducted as a commander just over two years ago due to the strength of your quirk, your incredible strategic skills, and your ability to be stealthy was far greater than anyone else. You had earned that rank in a time where you didn’t want it. All you wanted was for this all to end.

Looking down at the picture in your hands, you wish you could turn back time and transport back to it. It had been a few months before The Purge began, where the only concern you had was if you were going to pass your final exams, your work-study, and your boyfriend. Not the fate of the world, or at least not until you were a pro.

In the faded image, you were shielding your eyes from the sun but had a bright grin on your face. Your thighs were draped over a shirtless male torso that had your heart hurting inside your chest. He had a carefree, teeth-bared grin on his face, his eyes squinted shut in the sunlight, as he held onto your legs to support you. He looked so happy that day, in fact, you all were. You and your class had gone to a water-park, as a time to relax and just have chaotic levels of fun. It was one of your last good memories before it all fell apart. And now, this picture with your boyfriend was your greatest treasure.

Because two years ago, villains had discovered your previous location and attacked out of the blue. It had been pure chaos and a mad scramble to evacuate and get away with as few casualties as possible. It was one of the worst days of your life. Because that day, you had been separated from your boyfriend and once the dust had settled, he was gone. You had searched for days, not eating or sleeping. The only thing on your mind was finding Eijiro Kirishima, if it was the last thing you did. You were only forced to stop when Bakugou pulled you away, kicking and screaming. Everyone had said he was dead, and that you needed to accept it, but Bakugou just reiterated the same line over and over.

‘Shitty hair wouldn’t fucking die like that. We’ll find him y/n.” yet here you were, two years down the line, with still no sign of him. So like everyone else, you had accepted the fact that he was no longer going to be around, and when you found yourself deep within a pit of depression, it was your friends who pulled you from it, helping you take a step every day. You weren’t over it, and you knew you wouldn’t ever be. For that red-head who was sunshine personified was the love of your life, and he always would be.

A knock comes from your closed door, and hesitantly, you shift your gaze from the photo in your hands to the figure now poking their head through the partially cracked doorway. Momo’s kind smile meets you, and when she sees the tattered picture in your hands, it morphs into something soft but laced with pain. You aren’t the only one who is hurting from his passing, it has affected your friends and comrades too. There was too much death these days, too much for people to bear.

“It was a very fun day.” She says, walking over to where you sit on your bed, before sitting next to you. It had been one of your best memories with Kirishima, yes, but also with your other friends. Some who weren’t around now…

“And so different to life now.” You reply, pushing the picture back under your pillow before you turn to your friend and fellow leading commander. “What’s going on?” There had to be something for her to come and get you during your break.

“Shouto wants to move the stealth operation to today. He says he’s got a bad feeling about tomorrow.” You’re not surprised by the idea, so you just nod, not questioning your friends’ instincts for a second. Being in charge of such a large operation, all six of your close friends have learnt the inner workings of each other's minds. And when someone has a gut feeling, a hunch, you follow it, because nine times out of ten, it’s right. And in a world ruled by villains, being wrong means death, and that’s something you don’t want to see happen ever again. “We want you to lead it.” Of course.

The argument sits heavy on your tongue, but something inside you like always can’t seem to let it out. Maybe it was the guilt, or the fear of not being there to stop something bad from happening again. Because not long after you had lost Kirishima, you had lost your mentor, your work-study agency leader, your friend, in a stealth mission gone wrong. You had almost died that day, unable to save your mentor. Instead, Keigo Takami had saved you, and you weren’t going to let his sacrifice go to waste. You were going to protect every single one of your friends, even if it meant you died in the process.

“Alright.” Together, you both stand and begin the walk to the meeting room. The second you walk in, your eyes meet your four commanding friends, as well as three others. You smile at Jiro, Sero and Shoji before sitting down at a vacant seat. “What’s the plan?” You ask the quiet room, listening as Momo points towards a map of the city in the centre of the table, explaining the plan.

“Jiro’s ear jacks are going to eavesdrop on anything audible inside the warehouse. Shoji and Sero, you are on lookout, and Y/n, you are on escape routes.” Everyone in the stealth team had quirks that allowed them to do their job quickly and efficiently… but you were just there as back up, as a walking bomb ready to go off if something detrimental should occur.

You’d lost half of your quirk the day you had almost died, and witnessed your mentor sacrifice himself for you. Those flames, ones you can manipulate yourself- but failed to, burnt your wings until the weight that had rested between your shoulder blades your whole life, was gone. Now, you could manipulate fire, but hadn’t used it in almost a year, instead, focusing on hand to hand combat. After that day, you could barely glance at flames without either making yourself sick, or having flashbacks powerful enough that they seemed as if you were actually trapped back in the past. The sensation… the scent… the burning… the screaming.

“Live, little firebird. Save us all.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a sigh before standing to your feet. Everyone in the room looks in your direction, and you look at Bakugou, one of your closest friends and look into his eyes, trying to ignore the nagging thought that they look similar to Kirishima’s.

“We leave at 22:00.” Momo nods to you across the table and you look to your friends who are risking their lives alongside you. “Let’s get some dirt on these assholes.”

҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉

“We don’t get closer than ten metres to any entrance or exits of the building.” You whisper, using your very very little air manipulation to help your words travel to your friend’s ears. You see all three of them nod in response as you creep down the abandoned alleyway. The world is so quiet, the only noise was the slight breeze and trash being moved across the street from it. Everything about this area was abandoned and for good reason. You had discovered through one of the rebellion’s many spaced out informants, that they had seen S class league members frequently visiting this warehouse. This mission wasn’t to take more than two hours, that’s what Bakugou had drilled into your brain.

“Don’t be fucking late because I’m not coming to look for your dumb ass.” You weren’t a moron, which is what you had responded with and you could have sworn the blonde wanted to punch you in the face. It was the usual really, the urge and not the actual physical blow - that never happened. However, you knew that if your team didn’t show up, the blonde would come looking for you and not stopping until he dragged you all back and then tried to kill you himself for being stupid.

Normally, other than villain activity, it is quiet in this part of town. The previous residents having abandoned their homes the second the league of villains moved in. So you are surprised when Shoji gestured to you only thirty minutes in.

‘Figure. 2 blocks.’ He gestured with his hands, not risking to speak so close to the building. Sure you are on the second floor of the building next door, but with Jiro’s quirk in use, you aren’t going to distract her either.

‘Villain?’ You question, using both your hands to communicate the thought back. Shoji shakes his head and instead waves you over to his position. Silently, you manoeuvring until you are next to him, looking out the broken out window at where he is pointing - straight towards a figure staring at the building you’re currently listening on. The person is completely decked out in all black, and you definitely different recognise them, not that you could make out much of their figure other than the fact they were tall and bulk, probably male. If he were a villain, surely he could have just walked towards the building instead of peering at it like a predator watching its prey.

In silence, Shoji and you watch as the figure moves towards the building, carefully using the shadows to hide their body as they slip between alleyways and across the street. Okay, so not a villain… Suddenly the figure disappears behind an alleyway and you look at Shoji with a frown. What the hell was someone that wasn’t a part of the rebellion doing here?

From what you were aware, you were the only current branch within this area, the rebellion spreading wide across both Japan and the world, all under different titles and names, however, you were the leading force in this city, and possibly Japan. You would know if there was another organisation within the city limits. So who the hell was that?

Jiro taps the floor twice and your eyes look to Sero, holding his binoculars, directed straight at the warehouse. They were wrapping up. You tap your wrist to signify that you were to head out in one minute, when a gasp suddenly breaks the silence. Oxygen leaves your lungs as Shoiji tackles you to the floor. Wheezing, you don’t question in when heat engulfs the world outside the window. Your ribs scream in pain from the impact, but over your friend’s shoulder, you see the bright blue flames lick across the ceiling through the open window. Blue flames.

Your screams bounce across the concrete walls of what once had been an office building but was now nothing but rubble. Blue flames lick over your shoulder blades and neck. Your spine, engulfed in a pain you never thought possible, but what has you screaming is the image in front of you. You look up into Dabi’s smirking face, his blue flames swirling around his scarred fist. “This is the end of the line for you gorgeous.” He raises his hands in front of your face and for a second you close your eyes, praying for it all to be over. But then there’s a thump, and you watch in horror as Hawk’s - beaten to a pulp, lands in front of you, his scarlet red wings spread out behind him shielding you from the blue flames.

“Live, little firebird. Save us all.”

The last of his feathers grip your clothes, and you slam out of the rubble, dragging you across town as fast as they can. You cry out and beg to stop as one by one, they fall to the ground, losing their power, until you lay on the sidewalk outside the warehouse on your stomach, trying not to scream. You knew your wings were gone, the heavyweight you had held up your entire life wasn’t there. Only pain, god so much pain, you wanted to die. You had only passed out after you’d heard people mumbling above you, and at that point, you hadn’t cared if it were villains… you just wanted it to end.

Those blue flames… They had brought down your old compound that day, and you had been flying people out of the burning building when you had bumped into Kirishima, about to sprint into battle to join Bakugou and Shouto. You had wanted to beg him to stop, to just get out of the building, but that’s not who you were, and it definitely wasn’t who he was.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll be back. Get everyone out and I’ll meet you at the safe-point soon.” Kirishima says, kissing you on the forehead before racing out. You hadn’t even had time to tell him you loved him like usual, before moving to pull more people from the wreckage and transporting them. And that was something you would never forgive yourself for. You let Kirishima run into that burning building.

Once you had gotten the last people out, there was a loud crunch, followed by a boom. You and Sero turn around, only to see the roof of the warehouse begin to collapse. Figures flee from the fire, and one is heading towards you at an alarmingly fast rate. The second they reach your position, you do a headcount, tracing peoples faces until you realise there are only four of them. There should be five. Whipping your head back and forth, you quickly spin around, scanning everyone here for that head of red hair...but he’s not there. Where is Kirishima? Where the hell is your boyfriend?

You then look to the very singed and exhausted as-blonde before you. “Where is Eijiro?” Bakugou frowns at you, before looking around, his movements getting more frantic with every passing second.

“He was right there…” You hear hum mutter, only for another loud bang to come from the old warehouse.

No, god please no...The situation finally hits you, and you jump to action, your wings propelling you forward towards the burning building. You hold out your hands and try to smother the flames with your quirk, but theres too much, and its burning through the building to quickly.

Your only a few feet from the inferno when you’re tackled to the ground. You try desperately and wildly to shake the weight off, but soot covered hands have pinned your wings so you can’t move.

“Get off me! HE’S STILL IN THERE! I NEED TO GET HIM OUT! KIRISHIMA!”

“And die yourself in the process? There’s nothing you can do Y/n.” Bakugou’s voice is in your ear, and you scream out in frustration. The noise is so loud, coming from a place deep inside you that it hurts your vocal chords when it comes out. There's another crunch, and you watch helplessly as the roof completely collapses, finally succumbing to the flames, and the second it falls, part of you dies with it.

“EIJIRO!” You scream again, trying to shake the blonde off you.

“I’m so sorry Y/n.”

“No, please no.” Your voice is barely there, unable to be any louder. The flames leaving nothing in their wake, devouring everything it comes into contact with. “Not him, not him.” You repeat the words over and over, as you rest your head on the ground. He’s not dead, he can’t be. I can’t- I can’t do this without him. Your heart is pounding inside your ears, unable to hear anything else, and your lungs can't seem to hold any air at all. Before you know it, black dots line your vision, and then everything is dark. Before you pass out, the last thing you remember was the flickering of blue flames.

Those blue flames took your mentor from you, they took your wings, your freedom, they took the love of your life from you. You had nothing left. And now, those blue flames are going to pay.

For a year and a half, you haven’t touched your flames. You haven't activated the power that prowls under your skin like a beast. You had smothered it, tried to calm it, bottled it up for months, waiting for a moment to release it. The second you lock eyes with Sero, you nod before rising up off the ground.

“Get them to the checkpoint now.” You hiss, just as a chuckle echoes from down on the floor below.

“Running away so easily?”

“He’s right below us,” Jiro whispers, her ear-jacks still pressed into the concrete. She looks up at you, fear her eyes. How the hell do we get out of here alive? Luckily enough, you already have an escape route.

“Sero, now!” You yell out, aiming your hands at the floor and releasing a breath. All that unrelenting anger, frustration, grief, fury bubbles to the surface, and the second you see Sero swinging out the window with Jiro and Shoji in tow, you unleash yourself upon the world. Your pent up emotions spread to life in the form of a white flame, immediately melting the floor beneath you, and unfortunately missing the scarred man that it now reveals.

“We’ve been looking for you, little firebird,” Dabi smirks, even whilst standing in the middle of a world of flames. “The name’s kind of ironic isn’t it, considering how you lost your wings.” You know he’s goading you, so instead, you raise a hand, your own flames swirling around your fingers almost resemble lightning in their color.

“Ironic, considering you’re about to be burnt alive.” You hiss out before releasing your flames upon him. Dabi quickly unleashes a flash of power, only for those cursed blue flames to become overwhelmed by a wave of white melting hot fire. The smug look disappears in his eyes as he takes you in. You can feel the fire bubbling inside your veins, spilling out across your body like a shield, only not burning you. “You took everything from me,” Your throat aches from breathing in the smoke of the building. “and now, I will take your life.” You shout, letting your quirk redirect itself partially to your feet, sending you flying through the air where you fire white-hot fireball after fireball in the raven-haired man’s direction.

He would not survive this. You would make sure of it.

Your blasts were tearing up the building around you, and the warehouse you had been spying on, yet you did not care. You would set the whole world on fire before you gave him the chance to get away. The second you boost yourself out of the building and into the open courtyard between the buildings, is when you finally notice the fact that they’re barely standing, one slight movement from completely crumbling around you. Focusing back on Dabi, he looks at the buildings before relaxing his stance and glaring back at you.

“Don’t fool yourself, you can’t kill me. You’re nothing but a pathetic waste of a quirk.” He spits back, releasing a volley of blue flames towards you. Placing both your hands above your head, palms facing the sky, you swiftly release a blaze of power as you bring down your hands towards the floor, effectively slicing the incoming blue flames in half like a hot knife slicing through butter. You weren’t going to talk anymore, instead, you would fight him until he felt as much pain as you once had. Until Dabi knew how you had felt every day for the past two years since he had taken everything from you. Since he had ripped the love of your life from your grasp and permanently forced your feet to the ground.

Pieces of debris began to fall to the floor around you from collapsing buildings. Raising your arms either side of your body, you grin a feral smile at Dabi and aim at the two buildings, knowing fully well that when they collapse, they will bury you both. Quickly catching on to your idea, the man in front of you hesitates, only for a second, as if shocked by your actions.

“I’ll see you in hell, Dabi.” You release your flames and watch as the world crumbles around you.

҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉

At first, there is nothing but silence, your body weightless and mind empty of all thought. Is this death? Everything is dark until there’s a shout that echoes so loudly in your brain it hurts, and you feel something grip you tightly but you can’t tell where... and then… Nothing…

When you come to again your eyes blink open instinctively, and you find yourself staring at a concrete ceiling that you’ve seen many times before. The infirmary?

You blink a few times, vanishing the blur from your eyes. You can hear the scraping of furniture coming from outside the room, but surprisingly, as you glance around, you’re the only one in here.

Trying to sit up, suddenly your ribs screech in protest, forcing a hissing breath from your lungs. Jesus christ! You pause once you force your aching body upright, and glance around the room again, giving yourself a chance to let the pain settle before moving again. An IV machine stands empty next to your bed, and a bandage wrapped around… well your everything. The white compression cloth fits your ribs like a second skin as well as your arm. You don’t even remember getting injured… All you remember was unleashing hell on Dabi and bringing down a building around you. You were ready to sacrifice yourself to take out one of the main league members like any of your friends would have done.

The only questions that matter right now though are did you succeed? And how weren’t you dead? You can’t seem to come to an answer for either though.

A loud muffled noise comes from outside, interrupting your thoughts. Curiosity gets the better of you, as you manage to pull yourself off the bed, ignoring your aching body’s outcry. The second your bare feet meet the cold concrete flooring, you can’t hold in the wince as the temperature makes your bones groan. You push on, slipping through the closed doorway, and glancing around, trying to track the source of the noise. You can’t make out the conversations, not until you’re passing through the halls, hunched over and holding your ribs that ache with every slight movement. It’s only once you’ve been walking around for too long do you deduce that the sounds are coming from the main common room of the warehouse. As you head in that direction, you pass a mirror and actually cringe at the image that stares back.

Yikes.

Any dust and grime that had covered you from the rubble you had most likely been pulled from had been cleared, but you still look as if you have been dragged backward through hell. Small scratches pepper your face, and a massive black eye is forming on the right side of your face. If you thought you could move your arms high enough without wanting to cry, you might have prodded it to make sure it was real. Thank god for small mercies, you suppose.

As you draw closer to the large open doorway of the common room, you see a few people gathered around the entrance, with smiles on their faces. The look confuses you enough to force your feet to scuff along the floor as you stop. The second the noise meets their ears, their heads snap in your direction, and those smiles become grins that are slightly terrifying. How long has it been since you’ve seen faces like that?

“Y/n, you’re awake! I should get someone from the medical team, stay there a second.” An older woman says before quickly jogging back down the hall from which you came. More sound spills out of the room and this time, you can finally catch parts of the conversation.

“I’m going to kill you myself.” Bakugou growls, which doesn’t surprise you. But the fact that his words don’t meet his tone is what surprises you enough to force your legs to move, and to step into the room. Right away, your eyes are drawn towards the cluster of people in the middle of the room. First, you see Sero and Jiro, both looking a bit dishevelled, but mostly okay which has you sighing in relief. The next is the fact that everyone was here… but why? Between the heads of your other friends and comrades, you catch a glimpse of the fiery blonde that has pure murder in his eyes. However, he doesn’t act upon and instead reaches forward and brings someone into a tight embrace.

Oxygen abandons your lungs and for a second, you’re positive that you are hallucinating. Your body is no longer responsive and your mind is an empty void as you try to take in the person before you. He’s still across the room, but you’re asphyxiating under his very presence. His red hair is now black, most likely due to the fact hair dye wasn’t on the list of top priorities of anyone these days, and has also grown out enough to be pulled off his face. It’s so different… but those crimson eyes, ones that gleam like light peaking through rubies is the same… You are dreaming, or dead… you have to be… You had watched your boyfriend die, you had watched Eijiro Kirishima run into a burning building. You had seen the structure fold like paper cards, and you had searched the rubble for days after. You had grieved for two years for the man you had loved since you had first met him in the U.A entrance exams.

There is no logical reason as to how he is now grinning at Bakugou, slapping him on the back with tears filling his eyes. It’s not possible.

It’s not, you searched for so long…

The second he pulls the blonde back into another embrace which earns a string of curses and some laughs, his eyes finally meet yours over Bakugou’s shoulder, and you find yourself transporting back to the day you had lost him.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll be back”. He never came back,

“Get everyone out” You had.

“I’ll meet you at the safe-point soon.” He never did.

You’re gasping for air as your heartbeat thunders inside your head. It blocks out all other noise, and black dots dance within your vision. All of a sudden people are looking at you, and you can see Izuku’s lips moving in your direction, his eyes full of panic as he takes you in but you can’t hear him. You can’t seem to look from the ghost in front of you. No… he’s dead… Kirishima was dead. You have grieved him, you have cried over him, you have mourned the love of your life and still were…

Stepping out of Bakugou’s embrace, the man slowly walks towards you with caution, as if not to spook you. Well, that’s too late because I’m not seeing ghosts so I’m definitely off my rocker. With every step he takes towards you, you find the rise and fall of your chest gaining more and more speed, trying to take in more air, but failing to do so. Within seconds, he’s feet away from you, and you can’t take it. You had wanted this, so much… but it was impossible. Shaking your head, you hold your hands up in front of you to stop him from moving closer. Tears are flooding down your cheeks uncontrollably, and when he takes another step, you physically flinch back, a broken noise emerging from your lips that causes him to freeze. No, you’re dreaming! Wake up y/n! Maybe you’re in hell, and you are going to be forced to relive this again and again, only to lose him. If that’s true… Your eyes roam over Kirishima, looking almost the same as the day you lost him, and you know then your heart can’t take much more. You can’t take it.

“I- I can’t - I can’t…” You know you’re not making sense, and you’re not even sure if your words are actually understandable. But the pain and anguish in his red eyes is so similar to your own, it makes looking at him hurt even more. Kirishima finally walks forwards once more, until he is close enough to hold you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stares down at you with so much affection and fondness in his eyes, and so much heartache you feel an echo of it inside your own chest.

“Sorry it took me so long to come back angel, I got a little lost.” oh my god. He says, trying to break the sombre mood with a joke, but you just fall to your knees, weeping and sobbing so hard you can’t breathe. In a split second he’s there holding you, crushing you to his chest so tightly, all you can hear is his heart and all you can smell is his scent. Oh my god, he’s here. He’s actually alive. The thought makes you cry even harder. Oh my god, he is alive.

Eijiro’s alive. Your brain begins to piece it all together. When you had brought the building down… someone grabbing you, a shout. It was him.

You pull back, your trembling hands cupping his wet cheeks as you search his face for any signs that it isn’t him, that it's nothing but a cruel dream. But the pure love swirling in his crimson red eyes and the tears running tracks down his cheeks are enough of an answer. “How I- you didn’t come back. Why? I needed you! And I thought you had died! I thought he had killed you like Hawks… I needed you Eiji, and god I missed you, so so much!” You manage to get out between the sobbing. Your mouth is moving on its own at this point, and you can’t keep up with what it’s saying. You have so much to say, so much to tell him and feel as if you don’t say it now, you’ll suffocate under its weight.

“It’s a long story sweetheart, but I’m here. I’m never leaving your side ever again.” You clutch his shirt beneath your palms, your weeping quieting slightly, and you rest your forehead to his chest, just relishing in the heartbeat you feel beneath your hands. He’s alive. Eijiro’s alive. Your brain repeats it on a loop as if trying to forever engrave the fact into your brain so it will finally sink in that this is reality. You will no longer have to experience a day without his smile, a night without his warmth, a second without his heart.

“I love you. I love you so much, and I missed you so much Eiji I can’t-.” You whisper breaks again as you squeeze your eyes closed, trying to stop another wave of sobs from breaking through. A warm hand gently lifts your chin, and you find yourself staring back up at your first and only love. He’s alive.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before rubbing his nose against yours, his eyes not wavering from your own, as if he blinks, you’ll be gone. “I love you so much y/n, I will always come back to you. Always.”

You couldn’t care that you were in a room full of people, you couldn’t even care if villains showed up out of nowhere. Kirishima was back, he was whole and he was home.

#major character death #blood #swearing #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #eijiro x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #eijiro kirishima fanfic #kirishima eijiro fanfic #kirishima fanfic #eijiro fanfic #bnha #mha #lolswrites #lolsplaysbingo #eijiro kirishima angst #angst with fluff ending

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blue-bird-kny · 4 years

Note

hello!! can i request a giyuu x reader soulmate au with the red string? maybe after they find each other giyuu avoids the reader and then the reader confronts him about it and turns out he’s afraid to get attached and lose them (like with his sister and sabito)

I did change the request a bit to pack in that extra angst but I must say (Ik I say this a lot but I mean it), this has been my favorite request/piece thus far. There is more I’d like to add but I’ll save it for the end, so please enjoy ~Amanda

Warning: Angst, Fluff, Swearing

“Promise”

(Longest one yet with 2k+ words)

The little red string that connected you to your soulmate has always laid limp, even when you were a little kid and had first noticed it. They said this happened when your soulmate was far from you and the closer you two got, the tighter it pulled until disappearing the first time you and your soulmate touched.

You found the idea of soulmates fascinating, it was amazing that something only you could see fated you to another. As you grew older and entered the corps, you never felt any pull from your string. Once while at the demon slayer HQ, you’d felt the faintest tug on your pinky where the string was wrapped. You’d been so happy to finally feel anything from them, but almost as quickly as you felt it, it was gone.

After that day, you were determined to find your soulmate because, finally, they weren’t so out of reach. You constantly joined group missions in an attempt to find them and when you weren’t on a mission, you lurked around headquarters hoping to feel anything.

You tried for a year straight and nothing happened. Any time you felt a tug on your finger, you quickly followed in that direction, only to have the feeling disappear. You were so close to giving up because it was beginning to feel pointless, really there are thousands of slayers, how could you find just one? That was, of course, until you met him when you were least expecting it.

Your years of service had allowed you to climb the ranks fairly quickly, so as a Tsuchinoto, you’d been assigned to captain a team of slayers on a mission. The mission had been brutal; you’d lost several members of your team in the fight against a high level demon, almost losing your life in the process. You’d managed to kill the demon of course, but the casualties were too high for you to feel like it had been a successful mission.

Despite having only been in recovery for two days, you insisted you attended the Hashira meeting you’d been invited too. Oyakata-sama had asked that you relay the details of your mission to the other hashiras because he believed there was some connection to finding kibutsuji. As you left, you ignored the protest of those taking care of you because if this was important enough to have all the Hashira’s present, there was not way you were letting some stupid injuries stop you from going.

It was exhausting to move but you still held your head up high. The closer you grew to where the meeting was being held, the more butterflies erupted in your stomach. It wasn't because you were about to be in the presence of the most powerful demon slayers (although that was nerve racking), but because with every step you took the string on your pinky grew tighter and tighter.

Upon arrival, you tried to unsteadily bow to your superiors but Shinobu quickly forbade it along with any other unnecessary movement, insisting you sit. “Thank you for your concern Shinobu-san, but I must refuse. It would be disrespectful to sit, beside these wounds don’t bother me” your explanation impressed the Hashira’s, even though it was easy to see that your injured leg and bandaged body were causing you pain and discomfort.

Your eyes followed the string that was pulling so tightly at your hand that you needed to force it to stay by your side, landing on the figure kneeling furthest from you. Giyuu, the water Hashira, sat facing away from you, staring at the floor. “That's strange, doesn’t he feel his pinky being pulled? Can’t he see how our strings are connected” you didn’t allow your thoughts to distract you though, you were here for a reason.

You carefully explained every detail from the mission, answering every question that was thrown your way; you were honestly impressed with how calm you were despite your situation. After the meeting finished, Shinobu requested (demanded really since she wouldn’t accept no as an answer) to walk you back to the estate. “Please give me a moment, I need to speak with Giyuu-san” you told Shinobu, who reluctantly allowed you to walk to him.

You reached him just as he was turning to leave, your string pulling so hard it was getting harder to keep your hand in place. You smiled, “excuse me” you called sweetly, eager to talk to him. Your enthusiasm faded though, as his cold eyes turned to meet yours. He looked almost upset to be talking to you, you gulped before continuing “I think we’re soulmates” your voice sounded so small under his intense gaze.

The remaining Hashira’s watched as the tension surrounding you two began to thicken. “I know” his words were so simple, yet so empty. You didn’t get the chance to respond to him before he continued, “Are we done here? I have no intention of getting to know you, you’d only get in my way”. Every word that slipped past his lips buried themselves deep into your heart, chipping away until it cracked in half.

He turned away without another word from either of you, you watched as his form grew smaller in the distance till it was gone. With each step he took, the string that was once pulled so tauntly, loosened little by little, till it sadly hung on the floor. The room was cold and quiet, no one really knowing what to do as they stared at your slouched body.

“I can’t let them see me like this, I’ll just have to wait till I’m alone”

You turned to face those behind you, feeling embarrassed as they watched with sorry eyes. You cleared your throat trying desperately to erase any sadness from your voice as you spoke “Shinobu-san, I’m ready to go now”, you bore a sad smile and lifeless eyes as you two walked away.

“Well that was a fucking wreck” Sanemi commented making the others hum in agreement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks passed while you were still recovering at the Butterfly Estate. You’d been completely drained of life since Giyuu bluntly rejected you as his soulmate, feeling completely numb from any of the pain your treatment may have caused. You were miserable and anyone who saw you knew it; you never smiled, you barely spoke or ate, and your eyes were void of any life. Everyone tried to make you feel better, but nothing worked.

Shinobu (who had taken a liking to you) was desperate almost to make you feel better, she feared that if you didn’t cheer up soon, there’d be no bringing you back from the darkness that was drowning you. She’d seen something in you, an incredible potential that was too good to be wasted because of Giyuu’s insensitivity. She left to give him a piece of her mind, you at least deserved an explanation.

She found him training, swinging his sword in various directions. “Giyuu-san you’ve really outdone yourself this time, haven’t you. This is why you have no friends you know.” Shinobu’s tone was friendly, but her words were bitter. Normally, her words would have made Giyuu feel bad, but right now, he couldn’t feel any worse than he already did.

Giyuu actually wanted to be with you, you were soulmates afterall, but he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk losing someone else he loved, his heart couldn’t take it. Truth be told, he didn’t think his plan through, he didn’t take into account how it could affect you.”Shinobu-san please, not now” his response was so out of character that Shinobu was thrown off, she’d come to reprimand him but there was no need apparently. She sighed, “I don't know what you’re doing, but she’s heartbroken and barely eating. She could die if this continues” she walked away after that, she didn’t need a response because she knew what she’d done.

Shinobu had sort of stretched the truth, but for a good reason. She’d never admit it, but she knew Giyuu was a good guy, so the prospect of his destined love dying because of something he’d done would drive him mad. She was right of course; after a night of restless sleep, Giyuu set off to find you at the Butterfly Estate hoping you’d accept his apology.

“(Y/n)-san congratulations! You’ve completely recovered and are ready to head on your next mission, something simple to start no doubt.” Aoi cheered you on. You simply hummed with empty eyes as you finished getting dressed. “Thank you” you muttered, bowing your head as a sign of gratitude. You moved towards the door, failing to notice the strong pull of the string wrapped around you pinky until it was too late. The door pulled open just to find Giyuu standing there staring at you regrettably.

“Excuse me” your voice sounded foreign to his ears; those had been the exact words you said to him when you two met, yet the life and enthusiasm had been sucked away. He winced, realizing he was the one to take those away from you.

“No” his voice was deep and absolute. You didn’t move, didn’t blink, because you knew it was meaningless, so you just stood there staring back at him. “I’m sorry” he started awkwardly, he’s never been a man of many words but if it meant not losing you, he’d suck it up.

“I was selfish and avoided you for my own personal reasons. I didn’t want to let you into my life and have you taken away like the others I’ve loved” he sincerely spoke, trying his hardest to get you to listen. You’re breath hitched as he continued, “I’m an awful person for what I’ve done to you, but please, consider letting me into your life because there’s nowhere else I’d like to be” his words were genuine. You didn’t know when you’d started crying, but you had, and now your tears slid down your face in huge drops; all your bottled emotions rising to the surface and overflowing.

Giyuu wanted to wipe your tears away, but he didn’t want to touch you univinted. Your voice was heavy and choppy from the sobs you let out as you cried.”I forgive you Giyuu, but I need time”. You would never shove him away, but you couldn’t accept him back so quickly, these last few weeks had been a living hell and that wasn’t something you could just forget.

You composed yourself as best as you could, even though your voice was still shaky, you’d stopped crying. “Giyuu I’m leaving on a mission for a few days, that will be enough time for me to sort everything out, but you are forgiven”. Giyuu watched as you raised you pinky, the one that had the string wrapped around it, just like his.

“Giyuu I need you to make a promise to me first. Promise that no matter how it may seem, you’ll have faith in me. I don’t know what happened in your past, and I hope you’ll tell me one day, but I’m not going to leave you so easily. Promise that you won’t shut me out like this again and that you’ll be honest with me about your feelings as best as you can. And Finally,” you paused as you formed the faintest smile, “promise to never break my heart like this again”

Giyuu was stunned, you’d forgiven him and he was more grateful than words could explain. His mouth quivered as a small smile crept its way onto his face. His pinky, the one with the other end of the sting, wrapped around yours reassuringly. You two watch as the red string, the one that has tied you both together your whole lives faded away.

“I promise”

Main Masterlist

Ahh this request made me feel all kinds of ways, but I’m so glad that I’ve written it. It made me feel so many emotions, so thank you for giving me the privilege of writing it. This is also the longest fic I’ve written on this blog so yay! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it, if you did I’d appreciate it if you read my other work. Thank you ~Amanda

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader

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kandoesfanfics-writes · 4 years

Note

83 but with all the batfam + Mari fluff?

“If you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers.”

Ah, thank you. A feel good prompt at last!

—————————————————————————————————-

Bruce blinked slowly, trying to gauge exactly what emotion he should be feeling at the moment.

Clark was standing behind him in awe and slight terror, waiting to see how the big Bat was going to respond.

Diana looked absolutely delighted by the goings on of Bruce’s children.

The entire hallway was covered in little foam darts with sticky cups attached to the tips. Pink, purple, black, gold, red, blue, green, and grey foam darts painted the normally dull colors of the manor. They were attached to the pictures, the walls, the banisters, basically anything solid.

Throw pillows were tossed in every direction. Blankets were held up haphazardly, as if they were a hastily made shelter. Books were also scattered across the floor, along with some creatively taped together foam darts that looked like…throwing stars? While it didn’t look like anything was broken or damaged, the lack of Alfred greatly concerned Bruce.

He was positive the butler wouldn’t let the children get away with this. Alfred had taken care of this house since he was a boy, and Bruce knew that the children couldn’t overtake Alfred. Each child had their own sense of respect for Alfred, occasionally listening to him instead of Bruce. If Alfred had ordered them to stop, they would have ceased immediately.

Alfred didn’t call Bruce to tell him he was leaving either, so the man knew his ‘father’ had to be inside the house.

“Clark, take the eastside. Diana, you take the west side. I’ll try and see if I can’t locate Alfred. Keep on your toes, the kids have most likely set up traps,” Bruce said quietly.

Both nodded, though Clark seemed more serious than Diana. The Amazon’s blue eyes were sparkling with excitement and mirth as she broke away from the group. Clark was hesitant to leave Bruce, but one glare from the man sent him on his way.

Clark may be virtually indestructible, however, he knew his best friend well. He also knew his best friend’s children well. He knew damn well he was walking into a literal warzone with some of the fastest and most intelligent non-metas to ever take up a cape. He was now a potential target, and he wasn’t dumb enough to underestimate the Bats…especially not on their home turf.

——————

As it turned out, Clark was very right to worry.

How did he know?

There were now fifteen darts stuck to his head.

The man of steel had been walking down one of the many corridors when he felt something strike the back of his head. He had pulled off a dart, which was grey in color. He tried listening around him to hear if there were any footsteps approaching him, but when he closed his eyes to focus, a barrage of darts came out of nowhere.

He began to run, only to be yanked into a passageway by someone.

That someone swearing fervently once they saw him.

“Motherfucker! The girls’ got Clark, Dick! And he obviously didn’t fuckin’ see Babs because he’s completely unarmed! He’s fuckin’ useless!”

Clark’s eyes widened as he looked to the dark haired man speaking.

“Jason? One, watch your language. Two, what in the name of Ma’s apple pie is going on here?” he demanded, looking at Bruce’s second eldest son.

Jason gave him a grin with teeth, essentially telling the Blue Boy Scout to go fuck himself. Another set of footsteps caused Clark’s attention to snap to the newcomer, who he recognized immediately. Dick was holding a finger to his mouth with an intense glare on his face.

“Shut. Up! Do you want the girls to find us? Or worse?” he hissed lowly.

Clark looked bewildered between the two brothers as they began to make obscene hand gestures towards one another in annoyance. He still had no idea what was going on and was about to go find Bruce until Damian appeared.

“Training exercise,” he whispered. “Girls against boys. To participate, you had to go see Barbara for the comm and dart gun with your specified color. Since you did not, this means that you are not on our team and will be considered a casualty point instead of full points. However, since the girls got you first, that means if we shoot you, we don’t get any points. So you’re safe from at least us.”

Clark felt a headache beginning as he rubbed his right temple. The things these kids thought up when they were bored! Clearly Bruce hadn’t known about this, considering his confusion upon entering the manor. Did Alfred know what the kids were do—

He gasped as another dart hit him. This time the dart hit the back of his neck. He ripped it off to see it was a grey foam dart once again. He held it in his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. Clark wondered which of the girls would have chosen grey—

“Fuck, we’ve gotta move!” a fourth voice came, slightly panicked. “He found us! Abort, abort!”

Who found them?

Who was he?

Clark watched as Tim haphazardly shoved things into a bag, turning it into a makeshift shield. Jason began to swear violently as Damian responded that they couldn’t move from their position. The girls were lying in wait for them just around the corner. If they fled, they’d all be shot. Dick seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, taking cover behind one of the statues in the room. He went to speak until Jason covered his hand.

“I’ll go.”

“Jay—”

“I said, I’ll go. Just get ready to run,” Jason said, alarmingly grim.

Wasn’t this just a game—?

Jason sprinted out of the room, hollering as loudly as he could, “IF YOU WANT ME, COME AND GET ME, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Clark watched as a spray of darts followed Jason’s path as he attempted to reach cover. Dick, Tim, and Damian darted down the opposite way, leaving Clark behind. The Kryptonian just stood there, confused and still being pelted with little foam darts. It wasn’t until he heard a jubilant voice that he actually began to move.

“Clark! Why aren’t you getting in on the action?” Diana asked him, with her own dart gun in hand.

“Diana? What are you—”

“The girls were a player down and invited me to join their team! I think this will be a brilliant exercise in teamwork, strategy, and stealth!”

Of course Diana would think this was fun.

And of course, Diana also took this opportunity to shoot him with her own red and blue darts.

Clark then wondered if Bruce was getting it just as bad as he was.

———————

Bruce, while having not been shot yet, was not having much luck either.

He had seen his boys race past him, but the trio hadn’t paused for a second. All three had had foam darts of the pink, purple, black, blue and red, and grey variety sticking to them, some falling off as they ran. Considering the fact that none of his children had stopped their mischief upon seeing him, he figured that either they didn’t see him…or they saw him and did not care.

His daughters, as well as his hopefully future daughter-in-law, also darted past him without a care. The girls were mostly covered in grey darts, but there were some red, blue, gold, and green ones attached to them. Diana was also trailing after the girls, however, she only had grey darts on her body. They paid him no mind, giggling and laughing as they raced past him.

Bruce was now irritated, and he continued to search for Alfred. It appeared the only sane person in this goddamn house would have to restore order. His kids had even roped sweet little Marinette into their tomfoolery, and it was up to Bruce to stop them before they got her hurt. Though, Alfred was probably the only one who could stop them now.

He went to walk back into the foyer, not having found Alfred in the kitchen or living room, when he felt something hit him between the eyes.

The next thing Bruce noticed was that his children had all frozen, staring at him with wide eyes.

Jason looked delighted, a wide grin on his face. Dick and Tim were horrified, mouths agape. Damian was laughing, as was Stephanie. Marinette’s grey eyes were wide, and she’d covered her mouth with her hands. Cass’s shoulders silently shook with mirth, and Diana had a shit eating grin on her face.

Clark had just appeared next to him sighing, a grey dart on his forehead.

“Got you too, huh?” he said with a sigh. “Okay kids, which one of you decided nailing me and Bruce on the forehead would be fun?”

“Oh, it wasn’t one of them,” a sing-song voice came. “By the way, both teams lost.”

This brought forth arguments from the Bat-siblings as Marinette wiggled her way to the front. The dark haired Parisian walked over to the speaker… a red-headed woman in a wheelchair.

“Who won then, Ms. Barbara?” Marinette asked, ever polite.

“Please, Marinette, call me Babs,” Barbara said with a smile. “And our surprise sniper won of course! By taking out both Bruce and Clark, he clenched the final victory.”

Marinette’s grey eyes lit up, and she laughed loudly.

“Congratulations, Alfred! Looks like we’ll be making dinner tonight,” she said with a grin.

Alfred stepped out from behind his hiding spot, smiling at the lot.

“Yes, yes, you will be. I trust Master Dick and you will keep them in line?” he said, handing Barbara his dart gun.

“Oui, Alfred!” Marinette chirped. “What would you like for dinner?”

“Surprise me, Miss Marinette. I’m sure you’ll pick something wonderful,” he replied.

Bruce watched with wide eyes as Alfred instructed the children to clean up. The kids left without a fuss. Marinette and Dick left the room last, discussing what they would be making for dinner. Alfred walked over to both Bruce and Clark. He snatched both darts off of their foreheads before smiling and saying, “Welcome home, Master Bruce. Master Clark, it’s good to see you. Miss Diana will join you once she’s done helping the children clean up.”

Clark looked down at his best friend before sighing.

The Waynes and company were… certainly something else.

#maribat #no real pairing but hinted #feel good fluff #kan answers an ask #kan writes some things #prompt response #long post

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