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salstray · 3 months

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Ghostface (Danny Johnson) x Gn! Reader? Oc? First person, but no name or description is given, so interoperate that as you please. Warnings: The General Warnings that come with writing for Any Ghostface - Knives, blood, indication of recent murders, carving names into people's skin (mentioned, talked about, remembered, though not actively done in this piece), memory of past abuse from Danny Words: 2.3k~

Note: I know Valentine's Day was yesterday, but I only had the idea for this when I woke up today, so... here ya go. Hope you enjoy!

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Be Mine <3

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I knew something was wrong before I even stepped off the elevator.

The doors opened, creaking as they sluggishly pulled apart, revealing the dimly lit, dreary little hall that led to a row of wooden doors. Mine was at the very end. Tucked in the darkest corner furthest from the stairs.

And it was open.

Ever so slightly cracked. Just enough for me to see the odd angle of it as I pushed myself off the back wall of the little metal box with a sigh. Very slowly, I approached, half expecting it to fly the rest of the way open, for a hand to suddenly wrap around my wrist and yank me inside, never to be seen again. But that didn't happen.

Instead I pressed my palm against the scratched surface, hesitantly pushing it open to reveal more inky black shadows. The distant light of the hall barely managed to filter past the threshold and I held my breath as I inched forward, slipping my shaking fingers along the wall to find the light switch.

I flinched when it worked and the light above my head flared to life with a quiet click.

I figured he would have unscrewed the bulb. He’d done it before… However, the mess that trailed across my floor made it clear that he wanted me to be able to see the path he’d taken.

Footprints. Boot prints. The indents of heavy, worn treads across my floor, printed perfectly in sticky, browning blood. Framed with half crushed rose petals and bent stems. Like he’d been doing the whole they love me, they love me not thing as he stalked his way through my apartment. The tracks started at the window to my left, the one nestled in the corner of the walls. More blood was smeared across the glass, but it was in the messy shape of hands; hands he’d used to push up the frame and leave it there, letting in the cold, late winter breeze.

I sighed again as I set my bag and my keys on the counter to the right, carefully swinging the door shut behind me. The trail he’d left only started. It didn’t end which meant, almost certainly, that he was still here.

The blood started at the window, curved around my couch, then kept going straight until it reached the bend of the hall, which led to one room. My bedroom. Slowly, I followed it, doing my best to avoid every piece of evidence he’d left in his wake. When I reached the corner of the hall, I rounded it, then stopped dead at the new sight that had been unveiled to me.

My bedroom door was closed. Blood was twisted around the handle in the very clear shape of the hand that had opened it. On its surface was more blood. Painted into the shape of a heart that framed the gorey knife that was stabbed into its surface.

This wasn’t the first time I’d found it like this. Covered in someone’s blood, piercing some surface in my home. Last time it had been the dining table. Before that it had been the wall next to the front door.

I knew he wouldn’t be unarmed, the only time he’d ever be free of some sort of blade was when they were taken off of his corpse, but I knew that if he didn’t have this one then I didn’t have to worry about him using it on me.

That was his sign. He’d established that very early on: If I don’t have the big knife, you don’t have to worry, sweet-cheeks. This is the only one you gotta care about, okay?

Words that were seared into my mind. The same way his name was scarred into the flesh of my hip.

I took a deep breath and tip-toed closer, hesitating for a few long seconds before I resigned myself to my fate and took hold of the brass knob in front of me. The blood was tacky and thick. He’d been waiting for a while, then, and it would only be smart to make sure he didn’t wait any longer before he changed his mind and pulled the blade above my head from the door for more games.

The second it swung open, I was met with the sight of him.

Ghostface.

“Hi, lovey,” He called from his spot on the floor. He was sitting with his back against my bed, one leg straight out in front of him, the other bent up near his chest with his forearm resting on it. He was done up in all his black leathers, but I could tell from here, even without the blood surrounding him on the floor, that it had been recently soaked.

With a trembling hand, I reached over to flip the switch, powering on the outlet in the corner next to my bed and causing soft, golden light to pour out from under the shade of the lamp I had standing beside my nightstand.

More blood shined in the glow.

Another heart was smeared into the floor around him, surrounded by flowers. All roses. Some ruined and crushed, with petals plucked and tossed carelessly away. A few were full and intact, however. Blooming beautifully… if not for the scene they were a part of.

He tilted his head, the gaping maw of his mask twisting up towards me.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said sweetly.

“How long have you been here?” I whispered, the hand I’d used to open the door hanging tensely at my side, my fingers splayed and palm flat so no more blood would touch me of my own free will.

“Hmm… not that long…,” he mused, turning his head away as he thought it over. “Maybe… fourtyish minutes? I dunno. Finished working around 8; came here right after… haven’t checked the time since.” he finished with a shrug, then grunted as he leaned forward, smoothly pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over the mess he’d made without a care. Crushing more of the roses beneath his boots.

A fitting metaphor, I thought grimly, watching him with wide eyes as he approached.

My head bowed as he stepped up in front of me, my eyes now locking on the buckled straps that slid out from under his cowl and vanished under his arm. He didn’t let me stay like that for long. He’d told me before that he loved how I looked when I was oh so scared of him, so it was no surprise whatsoever when his hand raised and he used the second knuckle of his index finger to raise my chin. It was a bit of a surprise that he was so gentle with it… usually he’d take me by the hair and force my head back or wrap his whole hand around my jaw and yank me towards him, laughing when I yelped or started to cry.

“Missed you, you know,” he muttered. I almost didn’t hear him through the mask, but he was so close that it was hard to miss, even with the layers that separated his face from mine. “Woke up today and wanted nothing else but to just spend it all with you, but… ya know… duty calls.” I tried not to grimace when he chuckled and kept my eyes level with his when his hand fell away, painfully aware of the wet feeling that he left on the underside of my chin. “Did you think about me today?” he asked softly.

Knowing better than to lie, I nodded stiffly.

I thought about him everyday. It was kinda hard to let go of the knowledge that you were a serial killer’s plaything, believe it or not. That kind of thing took up a permanent spot right at the forefront of one's mind, usually, and I was no exception.

He hummed, his head tilting again as he stared at me. From here, with the bright lights flooding in from the hall behind me, I could just barely see the shine of his eyes through the dark mesh that hid them. I couldn’t see the color. I couldn’t see the whites of them. Just the way the light reflected and the way it flickered as his gaze moved back and forth between my own.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded.

I did as I was told in an instant, my urge to resist having been all but cut clean out of my body. The sound of rustling fabric vibrated in my ears. The gentle slide of leather against cloth. Then his voice again, clearer than I’d ever heard it before.

“Keep them closed, lovey. Or you’ll regret it,” he murmured, the feel of his breath against my cheeks almost making me flinch.

“I will,” I whispered. Barely able to get the words out as the air got caught in my chest. “I promise.”

“Good.”

His hands appeared on my cheeks, covered in his gloves, which were in turn covered in more blood. His fingers squelched unpleasantly as they pressed into my flesh and I instinctively started to pull away moments before he pulled me in.

I squeaked in surprise when his lips slotted against mine.

I expected him to be aggressive when he kissed. Insistent and eager and hungry. Just like he was every single time he pressed me up against the nearest flat surface, tearing at my clothes. Yet, he wasn’t. The hold he had on my face was firm, wet, but firm and gentle. The pads of his gloves pressed into my cheeks, squishing the flesh up against them, but it didn’t hurt like it usually did.

In the end, it was soft. Sweet. Shorter than I’d expected and when he pulled away, I had to remind myself to keep my eyes closed, fighting the urge to open my eyes and gape at him.

“Turn around,” he breathed, his hands falling from my face as I did as he said. “Open your eyes.” Again, I did. “Grab the knife from the door.” Panic shot through me instantly and I tensed, freezing in place, only moving to jerk in surprise when he laughed. “Relax, baby. I won’t be the one using it today.” The panic was replaced with confusion and he sighed quietly as his hands settled on my hips, the one on the left curling up until he had his palm against the place where Ghostface was permanently carved under my clothes. “I already marked you… now it's your turn to mark me.”

I blinked rapidly as what he said settled in my mind.

A vague memory suddenly surfaced from the haze of my thoughts. The night he’d done that to me in the first place. I remembered being tied tight to my bed, trying my best to thrash and buck as sobs tore at my throat from the otherside of the gag. Distantly, I’d heard his voice as he’d held my legs down with the bulk of his body, the burn of the knife sliding across my skin with a practiced ease.

Look at that, baby… God, isn’t that fucking gorgeous… fuck, I’ll have to let you do this one day. See what its like, cause God damn… it would be a fucking crime to keep this feeling to myself…

I’d had my own twisted thoughts of him and his many crimes at the time. Thoughts that almost made a hysteric laugh burst out of me as he nudged at my spine in the present.

“Go on, lovey. I’ll put the mask back on, so don’t worry about turning around once you got it.”

When I took my single step forward, I considered running. The absolute last thing I wanted to do was to grab that knife, to do to him what he’d done to me, to carve my name into his skin. To be a part of him for the rest of his life… yet if I ran, he’d be mad at me. I’d tried to run before and it had ended with a very harsh punishment. Cuts, bruises, and more than a few days lost to his torments in the pitch black basement of some warehouse on the outskirts of town.

I’d promised him I’d never do it again. Told myself that it wasn’t worth it, whatever it was that would get me there wouldn’t be worth it… but would this?

His hands appeared on my hips again and I flinched… again.

“What are you waiting for?” he whispered, the hard form of his mask pressing against the shell of my ear. His voice was mean. Mocking. Unhappy with my hesitation.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” I whispered back. “I don’t… I don’t like hurting people.”

“You won’t hurt me, lovey. Not in any way I won’t enjoy. Now… Get. The. Knife.” The next nudge was more of a shove and I stumbled another few steps forward, my hands curling up towards my chest as I started to shake all over.

Fittingly, the hand I wrapped around the handle of the knife was the one I’d used to open the door. The one that was decorated with blood. Blood of a stranger. Blood that belonged to someone who’s name I’d learn when I walked into work tomorrow, all the red heart decorations being taken down with teary eyes and fearful whispers following them back into the boxes.

It took a few wiggling tugs to pull it free and I kept my eyes on the ground when I turned to face him again, the knife tucked against my chest with my trembling fists.

When he moved, my eyes raised and I watched, tears welling up, as he crooked a single finger at me. Beckoning me forward.

I took another deep breath, stealing myself for what was going to come next. My fingers tightened around the hilt as I shuffled closer to him and the first tear fell as he took me by the hips once more. After a few seconds of studying me, one of his hands raised and he brushed his thumb across the trail it had taken down my cheek, shaking his head as he did.

“Save these, baby,” he stated, his voice low and dark. Familiar, at least. “You’ll need them later… now c’mon. We have a lot of celebrating to do.”

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#Danny Johnson #Dbd Ghostface #Ghostface #Ghostface fanfiction #Danny Johnson x reader #Ghostface x reader #x reader #Dead by Daylight #Dbd #dbd killer #my writing

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froggibus · 1 year

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Hi!

I saw where requests were open and you cleared out some.

I was wondering if you’d be okay for me to resubmit my dark/yandere batboys requests.

If you dont feel like doing a request like that it’s perfectly okay, this is your blog and your time so don’t worry and think I won’t be on your blog if you don’t. It’s all up to you, I just don’t want to take up you inbox if so.

Just let me know

Love ya!

- angst lover 🖤

This Unruly Mess I've Made - Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson x gn! reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: while Dick Grayson has always been your ball of sunshine, Nightwing hasn't, and on a particularly bad night, you see just how terrifying the vigilante really is

CW: violence, fighting, Dick accidentally hits reader (mistakes them for someone else), yelling, Dick says some pretty mean things, angst, groveling, some hurt/comfort

this is the third time ive had to rewrite Dick's part (also why this took so long!!) i kinda struggle with writing yandere/darker themes but i am trying! im sorry if this isn't quite what you wanted, but i was honestly stumped on how to write this for Dick.

also since these turned out so long i am going to separate them (also im thinking about doing a Tim version + am definitely doing a Bruce version)

Jason Version

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It’s dark and cold, but that’s typical for a night in Gotham. The rain is coming down hard, dripping down your face and soaking you to the bone. You squint into the darkness, searching desperately for your boyfriend.

His words echo in your mind. Stay put, I’ll be right back.

He had clenched your shoulders just a little too hard, his jaw set a little too tight. You understand why—if the roles were reversed, if you had received a call from him in the middle of the night, his voice strained and teary, you would be angry too. If you knew someone was following him, stalking him like some sort of prey, you’d be equally as mad.

He was at your side within a minute of the call, swooping in to save you. He had gotten you to safety, making sure you were okay, before diving back off into the night.

That was almost an hour ago, and you couldn’t stand in the rain under the overhang of the convenience store any longer. You had tried to call him, but he wasn’t answering. So, you set out to find him yourself.

How hard could it be to find a vigilante dressed in all black in the dead of night in Gotham?

Very hard, apparently, because you’ve been stumbling down the wet streets for what seems like hours with no sign of Nightwing.

Your clothes stick to your skin, every inch of you is wet and cold. You try to make your way back to your apartment, but the streets don’t look familiar to you anymore and you only grow more desperate with each passing moment.

There’s a bright orange light up ahead, so bright you feel like you’re imagining it. And it’s warm, warm like the sun. For a minute you’re not sure if it’s already day or not, but when you get closer, you see the roaring fire in front of you.

There’s figures in front of it, casting shadows across the street in a way that can only be described as menacingly. You squint, the light so intense it hurts your eyes. You can just barely make out the figure of your boyfriend up ahead, beating up some goons.

Someone else is with him, someone big. You can’t tell if it’s Bruce or Jason from this angle, but you don’t care. You’re so overwhelmed from the cold and your misery that you’re running to Dick before you even realize what you’re doing.

Dick’s just knocked out the last goon on him before he sees another, smaller one emerging from the darkness. Running straight towards him. The adrenaline has his heart beating so fast that it’s painful, his vision tunnelling, his instincts kicking in.

Just as you get to his sides, Dick reacts. His arm flies out, hitting you in the chest and knocking you flat on your ass. The wind is knocked out of you from the hit, shockwaves being sent up your tailbone from the impact.

You look up at him with teary, confused eyes. Dick stares back, equally confused, pupils blown. No, not Dick. Nightwing.

You expect him to react, to help you up, to apologize.

“What are you doing here?”

There’s not enough breath left in your body to speak, but he takes that as a sign to keep talking.

“I told you to stay put! Do you even know how much danger you’re putting yourself in, here? Putting me in?” His voice is gravelly and angry, a tone that you’ve never heard before. “You could have ruined everything!”

“I-I’m sorry,” you wheeze, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Jason’s ears perk up at the yelling, and you see him start to approach from over Dick’s shoulder. You don’t want him to see you guys argue, but that went out the window when Dick started yelling at you in public.

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything! Why can’t you just listen to basic instructions, y/n? Why do you have to make every single thing so fucking difficult on me?”

You flinch from his words. Actually flinch. He’s never spoken to you like this before. He’s never been this angry before. His chest rises and falls quickly, the adrenaline taking over completely. He takes a step towards you but you scramble back, your hands scraping on the pavement.

He tries to step forwards again but a hand catches his collar. He spins around, facing his younger brother. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jason shoves his chest hard. “No, what the hell are you doing? Can’t you see how fucking terrifying you’re being right now? Look at y/n,” he gestures to you, and when the older boy refuses to look, he shoves him again. “Look!”

“Stay out of this, Hood,” he shoves him back. “It’s none of your damn business.”

They keep arguing, voices rising with their adrenaline. Neither one of them are paying any mind to you, too busy shoving each other and getting in each other’s faces to look at you.

You take this opportunity to scramble to your feet, forcing yourself to take slow and silent steps until you’re far enough away to start running. You don’t look back, feet pounding the pavement.

Dick knows he’s out of line, he knows the adrenaline and the aggression are consuming him the way they’ve always consumed Batman. But he can’t stop it. Not tonight, not when you were in danger not once, but twice. He knows he’s spiralling, losing the control he’s held onto so tightly, but he can’t stop it now.

And Jason. Jason stepping in the way and shoving him? He can’t let that stand. And even if he knows he’s wrong, he’s not going to admit it and give the younger boy the satisfaction.

Their fight only gets worse, spiralling out of control. Dick giving into the adrenaline, Jason giving into his urges. It gets so bad that even Tim and Damian are scared. It gets so bad that all of a sudden there’s a familiar thud behind them and they both freeze in their tracks.

Dick knows even before he turns around that he’ll be face to face with Batman. Still, he does it, and the disappointed look his father is shooting him is enough to drain the fight from his body. Waves of clarity wash over him, and the events from the night start to register.

Bruce says nothing, his look is enough. The anger in his eyes says it all. Cave. Now.

The boys trudge after him, finding their own respective ways back to Wayne manor. Dick can’t help but tug on his hair and groan. What is this unruly mess I’ve made?

————

There’s bruises on your ass and chest. A large, long one across your chest in the exact shape of Dick’s forearm, and a big round one on your ass from where you hit the ground.

You can’t help but stare at them in the mirror, the ugly purple colour only making you more emotional. You want to scream, you want to cry, you want to hit him.

But you don’t do any of that. Instead, you step into the shower and stand under the hot water and close your eyes. All you want is to forget, for last night to have not happened. But it did. And nothing you can do will change that.

Dick feels horrible. How could he have said any of that to you? He didn’t even help you up after he hit you, accident or not. The thought of his own actions make him sick.

Bruce spent the better part of the night lecturing both him and Jason, and even after Jason left, he kept yelling at Dick. He couldn’t bring himself to argue or defend himself. How could he? He hurt you. He continued to hurt you. If Jason wasn’t there…he hates to think what might have happened.

He slams his phone down. This is the 37th time he’s called this morning, and still no answer. After the fifth call, they just started going straight to voicemail. Even his texts say they’re not being delivered.

He sighs, knowing he has no choice other than to head to your apartment.

—

You know before you even open the door that Dick is the one knocking. He keeps his touch on the wood soft, as if he’s scared to startle you. Which he is.

You don’t open the door. You look at him through the peephole, and he looks almost as rough as you feel. You sigh.

“Y/n,” his voice is soft, raspy. “I know you’re there. I-I can hear you breathing.”

You slide down the other side of the door, leaning your head against the hardwood.

“You don’t have to talk, and I know you owe me nothing but please—just, listen.”

Your heart aches and you’re not sure what to do. You want to listen to him and you want him to make everything okay again, but you don’t know if it ever can after last night.

“I fucked up. God, y/n, I fucked up real bad. I-I don’t know what was going through my head. I was being so stupid and I was on edge and the adrenaline—I was so worried about you.”

A few tears fall down your face at his words.

“I didn’t mean to hit you, and I think you know that. I would never hit you. I would never lay a damn finger on you like that.”

You wipe the tears on your forearm, your nose stuffy from crying.

“I know that I can’t take back what I said. I know that you’ll never forget that—fuck, I’ll never forget that. But I just need you to know that I didn’t mean it. I never meant any of that.”

Your breath is shaky and it takes everything you have to not start sobbing loudly. You clench your knees together, shoving your head between them. You know that he’s being sincere, and you know that he didn’t mean what he said.

“Y/n, you are the love of my life. I mean it—you are it for me. There’s never going to be someone else. And I need you to know that this will never happen again. I will never let this happen again.”

His voice cracks with every word, he’s so close to tearing up, but he won’t let himself. This isn’t his moment to break down. This is yours.

He doesn’t know what else to say, he doesn’t know what he could possibly add to make this better. Just as he goes to speak again, the door swings open and you’re face to chest with him.

“Y/n…”

“I-I don’t really know what to feel right now,” you admit. “A part of me is really scared of you, but I love you so damn much and—and I think as long as Nightwing stays away from me, we can make this work.”

He nods. “Whatever you want, baby. You name it and it’s yours.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay if I hug you?” His blue eyes meet yours, “we don’t have to if you’re not up for it. I understand that you don’t really trust me right now and—”

You practically jump on him, wrapping your arms around him. Dick accepts you with open arms, squeezing you so hard he lifts you off of your feet. You wrap your legs around his waist, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

He holds you, gently bouncing you up and down in a motion that’s so soothing you almost fall asleep on his shoulder. “I love you, y/n. I love you more than anything.”

#batfam #batman #dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson angst #nightwing x you #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing angst

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littleliteraturersj · 1 year

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Freddy VS Jason...And Pamela. (a future HoH:DC tease)

-The Nightmare wasted not a second by using his disappearing act in favor of saving time.

Quietly he appeared directly behind Voorhees and lingered only long enough to tap the brute on his shoulder. When Jason went to turn, Freddy vanished again, this time making himself pop up right in front of Jennifer’s bedroom door and therefore right in front of the other murderer.

Jason scanned the hallway, tremendously confused to find no one behind him. He gave a moment to listen intently as his gaze crawled all along the walls and floor. When it appeared as though the touch had been his imagination, the giant surely faced forward-

To find Freddy Krueger lounging against the door frame.

Freddy. Jason bristled at the unwanted sight.

Pamela Voorhees in his mind audibly, though mentally, scowled.

Without looking at the larger slasher, Freddy crooned; “You don’t look too happy to see me.” His hatted head rolled dramatically to one side to finally look Jason in the eye; “What’s wrong, Hockey Puck?” He popped the ‘p’ in the latter word while gesturing along the doorway, his gloved hand falling onto his own chest. “Am I in your way?”

Jason could only hatefully stare his answer and honestly it was answer enough.

“Well that’s a shame, because you just so happen to be in my way. In there?” He blinked a glance at the entrance next to him, his pointer blade ghosting over the edge of the wood, tapping it without touching it; “Is off limits. Anything you wanna tell her, you can tell me. So make like a good little dog and go bury your bones somewhere else. You’re barking up the wrong tree, but don’t worry..” Freddy rose from his lean against the framing to face Jason fully, both of his striped elbows resting on either side of the entrance as if to block the way with his entire body. “I’ll let her know you stopped by.”

Like Hell he will.

When Jason didn’t so much as move a single undead muscle, Freddy leaned in to sneer; “What? Ya don’t believe me?” His left hand traced an ‘x’ over where his heart should be, looking down at the area before looking back up at him; “Cross my heart and all the rest. Now off ya go. Hugs and kisses, give Pamela my best.” He flapped his gloved hand in a wave, laughing lightly.

Oh I’ll tell you where to put those hugs and kisses, Mr. Krueger.

Let me handle him, Mother.

You put him in his place, sweetheart.

Jason didn’t find Freddy’s lines funny. He never did. He made this clear by stepping well into the dream demon’s personal bubble, angling his head to lock eyes better. Their chests threatened to touch; A daring step to showcase all 275 pounds of his mass to intimidate the child murderer. Had anyone else been in his position, they would have shat their entire skeleton straight out of their body. But Freddy Krueger wasn’t anyone else.

“Ohh, you’re pretty close,” Freddy grinned cheekily up at him; “Ya gonna lay one on me? Hm?” A mirthful laugh spilled from his lips before he pursed them, mockingly giving the hockey player an air smooch. Once, Freddy might have faltered a step or two, maybe even weaseled his way out of the narrow space between hulking mass and door frame, but that was before he had seen Jason Voorhees for what he really was: An ugly little shit that didn’t know when to let go of his dead mother’s legs and move the fuck on.

Disgusting.

He always is.

Jason wanted nothing more than to break him down and turn into a mess even more disgusting than the Elm Street Slasher already was, but something more important came to mind to remind him and calm his anger.-

#House of Horrors: Director's Cut #my fic #freddy krueger #jason voorhees #pamela voorhees #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher community #excerpt from a future chapter

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voidbears-oc-stash · 3 months

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9: we'll use it if need be- lets go- *him'n phantom start walking- inside the center of the temple is a MASSIVE AND do REALLY MEAN M A S S I V E! machine! set up! all the pipes and wires scattered about the temple leading to it! a large vent at the top releasing a dark purple gas! into the sky- several wires and tubes leading to machines scattered all through out the room! and IN that big one as in EMBEDDED into the front of it's Xaster! arms splayed out at either side and tail fully extended in a straight line! eyes closed and mouth in a neutral position! several pipes and wires snake into him at several points! he's asleep- I THINK- but his core's currently on the surface of his chest- and- EMBEDDED in it's Ultra- his WHOLE BODY HALFWAY SUNKEN INTO IT! and park purple black, red and blue STRANDS of it are SNAKING through EVERY SQUARE INCH OF HIS SKIN! like he's been RUN through by them OVER AND OVER! his eyes are open but are glowing a bright purple and lifeless! his mouth slightly open! and head limply slumped forward! his LIMPS twisted at PAINFUL angles- ya wouldn't be BLAMED for MISTAKENLY thinking he's DEAD!- its sickening! after a few moments Ultra's pulled a few centimeters further in- *

"Would just pulling them apart be too dangerous?" Frostbite asks

#oc roleplay #jax #frostbite dragon

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more-mitaori · 2 years

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Chapter 6

An energetic young teacher's waving followed Hanako as she left his office, a heavy sigh escaping as she started to walk away. She wouldn't get very far before another familiar voice caught her attention. "Yo, Hanako!"

Hanako turned, a calm, neutral expression on her face. "Hello, Shinju."

"Hey, what're ya doin' over on this side of the school? Pretty far from the exit, right? You're usually one of the first students out of here." Shinju started walking beside Hanako, the two making their way down to the exit.

"I... well, um, promise me you will not laugh, but..." Hanako hesitated with a little sigh. "I've... joined the Fencing Club."

Shinju stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide. "Whoa, really? I never figured you for the sporty type! Hey, if this is for the paper, you know I can cover all the athletic clubs just fine, right?"

"Ah, no, um... it's... well, my current therapist thought it... might help lift my mood, if I were more... physically active." Hanako, as always, lamented what she saw as poor excuses and even poorer lies, but as usual, Shinju hadn't seen through them. How could she, Hanako thought? Shinju didn't know anything about Magical Girls.

"Ah, yeah, that makes sense to me. I guess it's not too different than 'Haku telling me to go make friends. Tripped and fell into a rock band!"

Hanako chuckled just a little, almost under her breath. "I... I suppose it's not too far from... why I did this, then."

They reached the doors leading out from the school, making their way outside. Hanako paused, taking a deep breath of air, closing her eyes. She appeared rather tranquil in this moment, a fact Shinju had noticed. "Heh. Seem like you're in good spirits today, after all."

"Mm. I... I guess I am," Hanako admitted, a tiny, almost unnoticeable smile lighting her face. It was true. Hanako felt better today than she had in a long time. For once, despite the tumultuous nature of her life now, she felt content. She had friends, something she couldn't say too terribly long ago, and she had a purpose, something that gave her life meaning.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a camouflaged military vehicle pulling up beside them on the road. Shinju immediately made for the passenger-side door, waving to Hanako as she got in. Hanako had never seen Kohaku in person before, let alone gotten the chance to meet her, but every story Shinju told of her made her sound like someone nice enough. At least, for someone climbing the ranks in the Japan Self-Defense Forces.

As Shinju and her sister pulled away, Hanako began walking down the road towards her apartment building. She lived in a tall, skyscraper-like complex in the Amakusa district. It was convenient for her father's work, as it cut down the commute entirely down to a short walk. He would often joke that it took more time to get out of the building than into his office.

Hanako's calm, peaceful lack of thoughts were interrupted as she bumped into someone on the sidewalk. A tall, lanky girl, at least a head taller than Hanako stood before her. Straight, yet dissheveled, dark hair hung from her head. Hanako recognized her uniform right away, though the girl was wearing a short, black leather jacket over it. "Ah! U-Um... I'm sorry. E-Excuse me..."

As she tried to walk around her, the girl held out an arm to stop her. "And just where the hell do you think you're going?" From this angle, Hanako could see a wet spot on the front of her jacket, a small stain bleeding onto the uniform itself. On the ground, a half-empty soda can, the rest of its contents spilling onto the sidewalk.

Looking up into the stranger's cold, nearly lifeless eyes, Hanako felt a shiver run down her spine. She often had the sense that Yui would be a bully to her from the first time they had met, but Yui's eyes were alive and even a little gentle, depending on the day. Yui's voice was brutish, but through her bluntness, Hanako had felt a desire to at least help those around her, to the extent that they wouldn't be a burden to her or themselves, anyway.

But this girl was different. In her hard, sour expression, Hanako saw only malice and hostility. She would back away, looking down again. "I... I said I was sorry. Um... I-I'll... get out of your way now."

"Oh? Just gonna spill my drink all over my jacket and walk off like nothing ever happened?" Before Hanako could get away, she felt herself pulled by the collar of her uniform and dragged closer. A sinister grin lit the girl's face. "If just saying sorry took out stains like that, I wouldn't be so bothered. But unfortunately, we live in reality. So you're going to have to make this right."

"A... Are you... trying to get money out of me, or something? I... I'm not a bank. Besides... th-this was... an accident." Hanako was struggling a little, trying to pull away, but the girl's grip was locked tight.

A few loose strands of dark hair came down across the girl's left eye, and her smile faded. "Unbelievable. First you ruin my jacket. Next, you half admit to it, but then you call me an extortionist. The absolute nerve of freshmen these days."

Hanako pulled herself free, jumping back a bit. For a moment, her sense of dread compelled her to transform and fight, but logic took over right away. This girl might be a bully, Hanako thought, and though she certainly gave off the impression of a cold, heartless beast, it didn't mean she was one. Not one that Hanako had made a contract to fight, anyway.

Besides, Hanako's mother had taught her how to deal with situations like these before. As she analyzed her surroundings, she noticed a name on the jacket. Her heart sunk as she realized that this was a custom article, but the name stood out more than anything else. "...I'm sorry, Rui Tomatsu."

The girl, Rui, stared at Hanako, incredulous, not making the connection to the name on her jacket. "You know me, kid? You think you know me?" Her right hand curled into a fist, and she hooked it swiftly towards Hanako's head.

Hanako just barely ducked under the punch, and instead of jumping back, she instead leaned into the motion. Rolling around Rui's side, she quickly made her way behind her. For a moment, from this position, Hanako considered countering the attack, but thought better of it once again. Instead, she used her chance to gain some distance, stopping a few meters behind her.

"...Everyone knows, Tomatsu," Hanako said, a bit more maliciously than she intended. "Everyone knows... that it was you who broke that window."

Rui wheeled around in an instant, but Hanako had vanished from sight. Her eyes were wide, wild with anger, and now with nowhere to place the rage. "Tch. Damn kid. ...I'll get you yet. Just you wait and see. All of you. Every last one of you fucking bastards are gonna pay this time."

Hanako had managed to duck into a bush, and with Rui's confusion, managed to slip from one hiding place to another along the road. By the time Rui would calm down, Hanako would be long gone, having used the blind spots in Rui's rage to slip away. This worked for now, but Hanako knew that it wouldn't work a second time. And she still had to go to school with this girl. What was the point of saying that, Hanako thought? What did she have to gain by tipping her hand, or provoking someone like this? Over something so small, no less.

Time passed, and distance would follow. There wasn't any sign of Rui following behind her, and the rest of Hanako's walk was uneventful. Slowing her pace and relaxing a bit, she pushed open the doors leading to the lobby of her apartment building, though she looked over her shoulders before stepping inside. A short elevator ride later, and Hanako was home once again.

"...I'm home." Hanako quietly announced herself as she walked through her front door. Despite how small she made her presence, one of two familiar voices called out in reply.

"Welcome home, Hanako." It was her father's voice this time. He was working from home, and since he answered, it meant that her mother was working late tonight.

Ren Sasaki worked for a large technology company, one that had its hands in many smaller corporations around the world, and was slowly growing into an entity that could shift the very direction of electronic devices and communications. Ren himself wasn't too important in his position, but he was climbing the corporate ladder quickly enough to provide more than enough for his family His was also not the only source of income in Hanako's family. His wife, Katsumi, was equally successful in her own field. Between the two of them, Hanako had everything anyone could ever ask for.

"...Is Mother running late... tonight?" Hanako carefully removed her shoes, leaving them by the door before making her way into her living room proper. A vaulted ceiling hung above the room, a large window on one side overlooking Mitakihara City's skyline with a hallway leading to the rest of the apartment on the other. Opposite the window sat a cozy kitchen, though more than spacious enough for multiple people to cook without tripping over one another.

"Yeah. Shouldn't be too long now, though. She said she's picking up dinner on the way back. Why not go relax for a bit?" Ren's voice was deep, yet soothing and quiet. He sat on a pearl white sofa, which faced a large television mounted on the opposite wall, perpendicular to the window. The television, much like Hanako's, was currently turned off. In Ren's lap, a laptop, one in which he worked frequently. Hanako's mother often joked that it was surgically attached to him.

He wore a brown, checkered shirt, and was still wearing his beige slacks, despite lounging around at home. Ren would always dress for work, even when working from home. He often said it kept him focused.

"...I think I will. Thank you, Father." Hanako gave a polite bow towards Ren, who waved off somewhat sheepishly at the formality, and she quietly slipped down the hallway towards her bedroom.

No sooner than Hanako plopped down onto her bed did her phone light up, buzzing in her pocket. She took it out, staring for a moment at the screen. ["hanako. any updates?"] The message was from Koharu.

Hanako wasn't able to reply, however, as she heard a knock on her door, followed by another quiet, soothing voice, higher than the first. "Hanako, dear? Your father told me you just got home."

The source of the voice was obvious by the tone alone. "Y... Yes, Mother. I'm home." She sat up, anticipating her door opening.

Sure enough, it did, and in the doorway stood Katsumi Sasaki, clad in a jet black three piece suit. Her chestnut colored hair was tidy, held in a tight bun on the back of her head. She hadn't even had time to remove her scarlet tie, and even though she looked like she just ran home, she still carried herself like a consummate professional.

A gentle smile was resting on her face, and she made her way into Hanako's room, sitting beside her on the corner of her bed. "How was your day, dear?"

"Oh, um... i-it was fine, Mother." Hanako's tone was a little unusual this time. Every day, Hanako would answer completely neutrally, but today she had hesitated. After all, she joined a more physically active and demanding club. She couldn't very well hide this from her mother. She looked up to her far too much to lie, and Hanako was far too easy to read to get away with it. But something like this was a vast and sudden departure from the status quo that Hanako was caught off guard by how this news would be received. "I... I joined the Fencing Club today."

As expected, her mother's eyes widened in surprise. She knew this was far too much, too fast, but the reaction she got wasn't quite what Hanako expected. "That's great! The doctors often say that physical activity would help lift your spirits. I wasn't sure you were ever going to take their advice. Ah, but why fencing, exactly?"

"W-Well... I'm not really suited to running, or anything... high impact. Fencing felt like... like a good compromise. It's active, but..." Hanako naturally trailed off. If Yui's tendency to come up with a good answer from nowhere was rubbing off on her, it wasn't doing it effectively enough just yet.

Her mother, however, simply nodded. "I understand, I think. It's a great start. You'll be using your mental strength as much as your physical strength. You're still pretty small, but this gives you a bit of an advantage. Swift movements are more important than powerful ones."

"How... do you know so much about fencing, Mother?" Hanako was a little taken aback by her mother's words on the subject. "Did you...?"

"Oh, no dear, not at all. But it's come up in cases from time to time. It pays to have basic knowledge about a wide variety of topics." Katsumi Sasaki was arguably the single most successful defense attorney that Mitakihara had ever seen. More than once did she receive offers from her colleagues to go into private practice, but she refused the offer each and every time. She was a public defender, and she believed that everyone deserved fair and just representation, regardless of financial status.

Katsumi was driven by an unshakeable sense of justice, and she had always hoped that this passion had passed down to her daughter. While Hanako's condition was often difficult, Katsumi never faltered in her patience. When she needed to be close, she was there. When Hanako needed space, Katsumi would give it gladly, despite her natural worry. While Hanako's progress was slow, her mother was comforted by the fact that Hanako never lashed out, nor did she blame anyone, including herself for her circumstances. Perhaps, she thought, she really was instilling the proper morals into her daughter after all.

If Hanako wanted anything, Katsumi would provide it. Not because she wanted to spoil her daughter, or lead her into a life of luxury, but because Hanako seldom asked for anything she didn't directly need, such as school supplies. The television and console were the lone extravagance that Hanako had ever asked for, and even then, she had barely touched them. It was the advice of a long-distance friend of Hanako's that pushed for the gaming device in the first place, but Hanako hadn't brought the girl up in awhile, and Katsumi knew better than to push, in case there was an unpleasant, or even traumatic incident behind it.

"I... I see." Hanako was staring up blankly at the ceiling. She was quiet for a long moment before speaking up again. "...How was your day, Mother?"

"Oh, uneventful. Just preparing for some simple, low-profile cases for once." Katsumi gave a little chuckle before standing up. "I brought home a variety of treats from the bakery, and I daresay your father and I will have trouble finishing them on our own. It's not the healthiest of dinners, but indulgence every now and then isn't the end of the world, right?"

Hanako sat up, only to remember that she had received a text from Koharu before her mother came in to check on her. "Th-that sounds great, Mother. I... I'll be along shortly."

"Take your time, Hanako." Giving Hanako a little pat on the shoulder and another gentle, reassuring smile, Katsumi left her room, closing the door behind her.

Hanako wasted little time in replying to Koharu. ["I encountered Rui. Things are more complicated than we realized."]

Almost an instant after Hanako sent her message, her phone buzzed once more. ["call me."]

* * *

The front door to a small, older house opened with a creak. Behind it, a middle-aged woman stood, somewhat apprehensive for a brief moment before she recognized the person who knocked. "Oh, Yui. Do come in, won't you? Alice told me you would be coming by today after school."

Yui gave a large grin towards Alice's mother, bowing her head just a bit before slipping inside, gently kicking her shoes off near the door. "Thanks, Mama Rinju. Oooh... makin' tea, huh? Lemme guess. Uh... Chamomile?"

Marian Rinju chuckled softly. "Sorry dear, Earl Grey."

"Shoot. Ah well, I'll get it right next time." Yui never could place what type of tea was brewing just by its scent, but the little guessing game often helped build rapport between Yui and Alice's mother, and it almost never failed to start a nice conversation. Yui would take a seat at the small, wooden table in the kitchen, at Marian's invitation. Marian followed close behind, then poured out four cups of tea. This was normal for Yui. Marian would pour one for herself, one for Yui, one for Alice, and then one for Esther, though she seldom joined them for Yui's visits.

Esther and Yui had only met briefly over the years. The two were civil, seemingly getting along well enough, but didn't really have a lot in common. The day after Yui made her wish, Esther had joined them for tea. Afterwards, Esther had invited Yui to their backyard, and challenged her to a friendly spar.

It wasn't often that Yui lost a fight, especially to another Magical Girl. But Esther was in a league of her own. Yui had no shame in admitting her loss, even to Alice. In a way, Yui thought, it established a clear pecking order, at least as far as everyone else was concerned. Alice looked up to her sister more than Yui, and Yui wasn't bothered by this.

Overall, Yui and Esther maintained a healthy, respectful distance from one another. Neither seemed to mind the other's company, yet neither side made any effort to bridge the gap and establish a proper friendship. Unspoken as it was, the rule seemed to be to not upset Alice by causing tension between her two most cherished people, even if they had no reason to dislike one another.

Esther was more composed, a little more proper than Alice, but she wasn't stuck up enough to look down on anyone. Even as a Magical Girl, Esther had, at one point, been Kyubey's go-to backup if a newly contracted girl had lost her way on a hunt. Esther never seemed to mind this role, either. But after the incident with her father, Esther had become more distant. Yui, naturally, understood this, and she didn't stick her nose into her senior's business.

Yui would sip her tea, with Marian sitting across from her, as if trying to read her youngest daughter's closest friend. Yui was used to this, as it happened with every visit ever since Tomozaku's arrest. She was never sure if Marian was trying to see if Yui intended to try and date Alice, and she was even less sure if that was something Marian was trying to encourage or dissuade. The gaze lasted only a few moments, and soon, Marian was sipping her own tea.

"So how is school, Yui?" Marian's tone was compassionate and motherly, but an undertone of scrutiny was always present in her voice.

"Ah, y'know... year's still pretty fresh, so my grades are okay. Better than last years'," Yui added quickly, anticipating Marian's follow-up. "But no clubs or anything. The band's taken up most of my free time."

Marian chuckled, setting her cup down. "I see. From what I hear, you lot are making a good deal of progress."

"Hey hey, 'bout time someone had some faith in us! See, this is why you're my favorite parent, Mama Rinju." As Marian beamed, Yui continued. "But yeah. We're gettin' there. It's slow going, but we're getting there."

"Do you have a name for your first album, then?"

"In Euphoria Clad." Alice's timid voice called from the stairs in the hallway, small footsteps following before she poked her head in around the corner. "I came up with it, and no one shot it down." She then sat down right beside Yui, sipping her own tea.

"Oh? I like it, dear." Marian's smile was wide and warm. "I'll buy your first t-shirt."

Yui scoffed. "As if we would make you pay for it! Mama Rinju gets the VIP treatment forever." Alice and Marian both chuckled. A few quiet, pleasant minutes of light conversation and tea would follow. The room went quiet, however, when another set of footsteps descended from the stairs. A head of neat, blonde hair wrapped in a ponytail peered into the kitchen from the living room. First gazing upon her sister, then her mother, then the visitor.

Alice bounded from her seat, throwing her arms around Esther's waist, a sheepish, childlike expression on her face. Marian simply smiled, and Yui showed no outward reaction, sipping from her tea again. Eventually, Alice let go of her sister after receiving a pat on the head, blushing a bit as she sat back beside Yui.

Esther herself had a neutral expression, save for the tiniest of smiles at Alice's affection. She sat down, taking a sip of her tea before turning her head slightly to glance towards her mother. "Earl Grey? What's the occasion?"

"There's not an occasion, Esther. I just felt like it, that's all. Sometimes, we all deserve the nicer things in life just for their own sake."

Shrugging just a bit, Esther didn't ask any further, instead turning back to face Alice. "Need any help with anything? Any major projects, or maybe homework you're stuck on?"

"N... No, I'm fine." Alice's voice was lowered, nervously kicking her legs a bit under the table. "I finished my homework right after I got home."

"Whoa, seriously? I still need to start mine." Yui rubbed the back of her head, avoiding Marian's frown.

"You don't want to fall behind this early in the year, Yui."

"Yeah, yeah." Yui finished her cup with a contented sigh. "I'll get started when I get home." The rest of the impromptu tea party was quiet, a little awkward. Yui and Esther were cordial, yet seemingly avoiding talking directly to one another. Neither Alice nor Marian seemed to notice. Eventually, two more empty cups were set down on the table. Yui did not take a refill.

Alice stretched her arms, setting her half-finished cup down on the table. "Mom, need help with the dishes?"

"Well! What kind of alien came down to replace my daughter, hmm?" Marian chuckled, though relented as soon as Alice shrunk back into her chair. "Since you're offering, I can't really say no, can I?"

"I guess I oughtta get going, too. I don't wanna fall behind..." Yui's dread was heavy, if not exaggerated. She stood up, stretching her arms as well and turned to leave the kitchen. "Call me later, alright babe?" Marian chuckled at this, while Alice blushed. Esther stood up soon after, still stoic as always.

Yui made her way to the door, slipping back into her shoes and stepped outside. She didn't get more than a few steps away from the house before a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"...Thanks for watching over Alice while I was gone this week." It was Esther's voice, and Yui turned slowly to face her. Again, Esther showed no outward expression, and she was keeping her voice down, perhaps to make sure Alice didn't hear her. "But, I'll handle things from here, okay?"

Yui matched Esther's poker face before responding, "I'm not sure I get what'cha mean, Esther. Mind dumbin' it down for me?"

"There's an idiom along the lines of 'too many cooks will spoil the broth'. Alice doesn't need two Magical Girls in her life, just to keep the Incubators away. It's overkill, no?"

Yui's voice lowered as her eyes narrowed. "Yeah? She sure did while you were out at wherever-the-hell you were all week. If I weren't around, she would've made the dive for sure."

"Don't you lecture me about what my sister may or may not have done in my absence," Esther hissed. "Where I was and what I was doing is none of your business."

"Sure it is. I don't like seein' my best friend hurtin' because the other most important person in her life just up and vanishes right before her abusive dad's trial's about to go down."

Esther took a more pointed step closer to Yui, her hand balled into a fist. "You would do well to stay out of my family's affairs, Yui. You're already in way over your head. So do us all a favor and back off, okay?"

Yui didn't budge. "If you're gonna go around all threatening-like, you might wanna be more direct about it. C'mon, just spit it out and save us both the time."

"Fine, then." Esther's gray eyes flashed a bit as she stared into Yui's violet eyes. "...Stay the fuck away from my sister, and my family. If you know what's good for you, you insolent punk." With that, Esther turned with a flick of her ponytail, making her way back inside, the door to her house closing quietly behind her.

~END OF ACT 0~

<= Chapter 5 ~ * ~ * ~ Act I: Bipolar Nightmare =>

#MitaOri #Act 0: Significance #fanfiction #PMMM

1 note · View note

superhero--imagines · 3 years

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Fill out an interest check for my haikyuu zine here | buy my Batman zine here!

A/N: wrote this for @neoheros and @coophi Writing contest. Features being married 25 and younger for all breast having readers. Slightly suggestive themes, but mostly fluff.

Atsumu has a thing for your chest.

It’s not a secret. If you’re wearing a low-cut top, the neckline in a smooth u-shaped scoop. Or a dress with a plunging neckline, a soft curve of either breast on each side.

He gets dumbstruck every time.

It’s not even sexual, well not all the time, he just thinks they’re cute. Like a couple of puppies. He just wants to smother them in kisses and tell them how cute they are.

So when he sees them wrapped in beautiful fabric, looking good and healthy, he swells with pride. (Amongst other things, he is still a man after all)

‘Mah babies are doin’ good’ he’ll think with a soft smile.

So when he walks into your shared bedroom, duffel bag still in hand, and see’s you sitting on the bed completely topless, your breasts covered by nothing but your bare hands, the dainty silver band glinting on your finger - he practically combusts.

Your eyes travel from the laptop flipped open in front of you, to your husband who’s still standing in the doorway. You expression brightens the second you see him, eyes sparkling as a smile arch’s onto your mouth.

“You’re home!” You cheer, hands still clasped at either breast.

Atsumu gulps, not trusting his mouth to properly form words, he briskly nods.

“ ‘Sumu can you do me a favor and hold my boobs up?”

That’s it. He’s dead.

Time? 3:47 PM

Cause? Brain aneurysm, he couldn’t take the mental stimulation of a dream he didn’t even realize he had coming true.

“ ‘Tsumu?” You call, he’s just been standing there at the doorway since he saw you. Is he mad? He did just come home from practice, he must be tired. You’re just about to tell him that it’s okay, he should relax, when he nods his head.

“Y-yeah, ‘course ‘ah can baby,” Atsumu shakes his head, he’s acting like a damn teenager right now! What’s there to be so flustered about anyway? You’re his wife, he’s seen you naked tons of times, no reason to get all dopey about a little fondling.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna bother you-“

“It’s no bother!” Atsumu winces as the high pitched tone of his protest. Talk about over eager. He clears his throat, hand curling in her his chin. “ ‘Ah mean, this is what husbands are for right? Even Dax Shepard sucked out Kristen Bell’s breast milk when she needed it-“ Geez, why is he mentioning that now?!?

“Anyway, point is ‘s no bother, ‘lemme just u-uh,” he flinches when his voice cracks. “Let me get behind ya” he finishes, clearing his throat when you shuffle forward, your breasts bouncing slightly.

Damn, they look so cute.

Atsumu has to bite his lip to stay focused, frosty white teeth nibbling at the plump flesh of his bottom lip as he shuffles behind you. His legs thrown on either side of your frame, as you settle between them.

He gulps again when his hands replace yours.

With the way you’re seated his chin almost brushing against your hair, he gets wafts of your shampoo, and at this angle he gets a top side view of his precious babies. The perfect scent to accompany the perfect view. They’re so much softer than he remembers too, it’s almost like-

“Atsumu stop,” he freezes, did he do something wrong? His hands automatically move to retreat back to his side when he see’s you shake your head. “No, stop squeezing, it hurts.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows thread together, his mouth pursing until it’s a straight line.

“It hurts?” You nod, not looking away from your laptop, your fingers dancing across the keyboard.

“Yeah they’re just so swollen,” you start.

‘So they’re swollen’ he thinks. Looking back he should have realized there was a reason you suddenly wanted him to hold your breasts.

“they’re so sore I think it’s making my nipples sensitive too-“

And that explains why you weren’t wearing a bra or a shirt

“They were hurting so bad I didn’t think I would be able to finish this report for work,”

Which explains the laptop, he remembers you saying you had a deadline coming up. Actually, he wasn’t quite sure what part that played in the fantasy- maybe something a little scandalous, like you were watching a dirty movie on it or something.

“But now you’re here!” Your fingers stop, abandoning the keyboard entirely and focusing all your attention on him. You twist your torso so you can face him. Your thumb caresses his face, and you press a kiss to his cheekbone.

“You’re my hero Atsumu”

Atsumu is only twenty-three, no longer a boy, yet still not a man.

But he’s trying hard to grow into one, a man you can be proud to call your husband. A mature man who you always think is cool and makes you feel like you’re going to melt.

Atsumu can’t help but feel like a teenage boy when he feels a wobbly smile curl onto his face, steam practically curling out of his ears.

“ ‘course ‘ah am,” he huffs, his chest puffing out. “ ‘s a husbands job to be their partners hero” you giggle, he’s always saying the cheesiest stuff when you give him a genuine compliment. It’s kind of cute how he still gets flustered around you. Throw him in front of a bunch of reporters or fans and he’ll play them all like a fiddle, but in front of you…he’s just a boy.

His expression gets softer when you turn back to the laptop. Your hero, huh? He likes the sound of that. But-

“I’d rather be the love of your life, though” he mumbles, face pressed into your hair, and his hands holding your breast.

“What was that?” You ask, hissing when he squeezes in surprise. Crap, he didn’t think you heard. He sighs in relief when you tell him to be more gentle, you’re in a lot of pain. Looks like you’ve let the topic go.

“I know you’re used to-“ you pause mid-sentence when you shuffle back, resting against your husband's chest only to feel something hard other than the prominent muscles on his chest.

“Are you-“ before you can get a word in edgewise, Atsumu screams:

“What? I’m pretty sure Kristen Bell’s husband was a little turned on too when he sucked out that breast milk!”

For a single second the silence stretches between you two, and then you break out laughing

“What is with you and Kristen Bell?” You gasp between wheezes of laughter. Atsumu is laughing beside you.

“ ‘Ah donno, ‘s the only celebrity couple ‘ah keep up with.” You rest your head back on his shoulder, still laughing when he leans down for a kiss.

#C/R_HQ!CONTEST #haikyuu imagine #Atsumu Miya #Atsumu x reader #Atsumu Miya x reader #atsumu miya imagines #atsumu x female reader #hq atsumu #atsumu headcanons #atsumu drabble #batman imagine #dc comics imagine #superhero--imagines

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

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Under the Floorboards (Pt. VII)

(Technoblade X Reader) Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI, Pt. VII

Your eyes cracked open as soon as the sunlight spilled into the room, your eyebrows furrowed together and a hiss of pain spilled from your lips. You brought your arm in front of your face to block out the sun, Technoblade should've closed the curtains the asshole. As you pulled your hand away from your face you couldn't help but pause, a delicate golden band with a blue diamond sat on your ring finger. You sat up in surprise, immediately buckling in on yourself pain radiating through your abdomen. You licked your cracked lips before uttering a simple,

"Ah fuck."

Something stirred next to the bedside, you turned your head in the direction of the sound, Technoblade was draped over the side of the bed. His hair was a rat's nest, sticking up at odd angles and ends, frizzing out in all directions. Drool was stuck to the bottom of his chin, his hands gripped the sheets tightly, his eyes screwed shut. He looked upset like he was having a bad dream. Looking around the room briefly, you noticed his robe and crown were hung up in the closet, food was left half-eaten on the vanity. How long had you been out? Trying to make as little noise as possible you slowly peered out the window, outside you saw a little shack built into the mountain. You must've been out a while if Technoblade is letting someone ruin his real estate value like that. Blinking in surprise you saw Ranboo emerge from underneath a hole, a smile spread across your lips as he paused and looked up at the window. You gave a small wave, his mouth appeared and his jaw dropped, he began to wave back enthusiastically before charging through the snow towards your home in a sprint. You knew you only had a few moments before the lanky boy burst up into the room, you carded your fingers softly through Technoblade's hair, you've never seen him in such a dead sleep. Normally, your stirring and movements would've woken him up minutes ago. Maybe Phil give him something to knock him out? That's a very likely answer.

"Bubba's..." You cooed tenderly kissing his forehead, "Time to wake up." You felt him shift, his face scrunching up uncomfortably as his eyes blinked open. Dark bags were prominent as he grumbled in displeasure until his eyes focused completely on you, he sat up swiftly and grabbed your face. "Ow, gentler please."

"You're awake." His voice quivered as he began stroking your face and cheeks, "You're actually okay." You tilted your head to the side in concern, his usual stern eyes filling with tears, "I thought you were dead." Technoblade held you close burying his face into your chest, his nails digging into your back. All you did was rub his shoulders and let him hold you like you were porcelain glass. "You were out for a week, Phil helped me tend to your wounds." He said after a few moments of silence, "NEVER do that to me again."

"I can't make any promises but I don't plan on it." You smiled as he pulled away from you, his eyes still red from reluctant tears. Techno leaned forward to press a passionate kiss to your lips, his hands cupped your cheeks as he kissed you like it was his last moments with you. You saw fireworks erupt in your vision and you visibly melted into it, pressure you didn't know you had was suddenly lifted off your shoulders.

"Oh my god. I'm-I'm sorry." Ranboo sputtered, throwing open the door and tossing his hands over his eyes frantically. Techno practically threw you across the room, the only thing keeping you from falling over was his tail that had wrapped around your waist during your kissing session. His entire face was bright red,

"Kid what the heck." He groaned, "Knock please."

"Sorry I was just excited, I saw she was awake from the window." Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck, as he looked at the two of you.

"Aw, were you worried about me?" A smile came across your face as the boy blushed furiously under your gaze, one cheek was bright red and the other was a bright green just like his eyes. He hesitantly bobbed his head in a nod and a soft, motherly look spread across your face. Technoblade saw the look you gave the teenager of the corner of his eye and his heart turned to mush in a matter of seconds, these kids were gonna be the death of you. "I'm sorry to have worried you, but look I'm a-ok now!" A smile spread across Ranboo's lips as he walked further into the room,

"Well, that's a relief." He sat cross-legged on the floor smiling up at both of you, Technoblade sighed and ruffled his hair. His eyes widened looking up at the blade, little stars seemed to dance in his heterochromatic orbs.

"Thanks for looking out for her. I'm sure Phil told you but you saved her life, I owe you one. I don't take that lightly." Technoblade nodded at him with a serious look on his features as he took his hand off of Ranboo's head. Ranboo looked shell shocked at the genuine honesty of your boyfriend, "Now never mention this to anybody or I'll kill you." The look of awe on his face fell immediately and it turned into a sheepish smile, his shoulders slumping forward.

"There it is," Ranboo sighed. You couldn't help but let out a joyous laugh at the interaction, both men turned to look at you and grinned at one another, they were both happy to see you laughing.

"So when did you move in with us?" You asked Ranboo with a hum gently stroking the top of Technoblades head once again. He had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a happy sigh, he hadn't felt your hand in his hair in so long could you really blame him? Ranboo looked thoughtful for a moment his eyebrows furrowing, he rubbed his claws together like he was searching for the answer.

"Sorry I- oh! The day after you all blew up L'manberg again Phil came to me and asked if I had a place to stay. I obviously didn't have a place to stay anymore." He gave an awkward laugh, "So here I am."

"Well, we are certainly happy to have you with us. Right Techno?"

"Ehhh," You glared at him sharply and he held up his hands. "He's gotta prove himself first Princess you can't blame me for being on edge."

"Eh, that's fair. Still, I'm just happy to be here." Ranboo beamed brightly unfazed by Technoblade's hesitance, something told him that Technoblade really didn't mind him living on his property. "Oh, I'll contact Phil and let him know you're alright! He'll probably want to know about your condition, yeah that's what I'll do."

Reaching out you took Ranboo's hand as he went to stand, he looked a little surprised as he stared at you. "You ever need anything, please don't hesitate to talk to me, I know that what happened was traumatizing. So please, I'm here for you if you need me." His ears seemed to press back against his head, his eyes widened considerably.

"Thank you." He practically yelled pulling away from you to scurry out the door, he was completely and utterly flustered by your kind words. It reminded you so much of Technoblade when you first met him you couldn't help but smirk at him. He raised an eyebrow at you a frown gracing his features,

"What?"

"He acts exactly like you. He's going to fit in great here." Technoblalde looked at you like you had three heads,

"Ya know, I can't believe I ever missed hearing your voice."

"Oh fuck you." You gently cupped his chin and kissed the corner of his mouth, "I loved and missed you too you big lug." Technoblade closed his eyes and smiled adoringly at your gentle caresses, "So..." You whispered softly in his ear, "what's with the ring?" He tensed in your hold and you felt his forehead hit your shoulder.

"An...an engagement ring." He admitted quietly, your eyes lit up and a smile spread across your lips. You hummed in response and began to pet his hair soothingly,

"I thought a certain pig said that we'd only get married if I didn't get hurt."

"Yeah well whoever that was sounds super cringe. Imagine basing a marriage on something like that. Men am I right?" It got a giggle out of you and he pulled away to flash you a smile, his large hand cupped your cheek and you snuggled into it.

You nodded your head, "Can't live with them clearly. Since all they do is lie." Technoblade nodded with a straight face, "but in all seriousness this for real? Cause like I'm totally gonna make out with you if it is."

"Oh, it's super for real then."

"Stop I'm being serious!" You whacked him lightly in the chest,

"It's for real," His face lost its teasing smirk as you both locked eyes. "I'm head over heels for you (Y/N). You make me so happy, you're the only one in my life who makes me feel...feel normal," You watched his eyebrows furrow, "I knew I loved you and I knew that you were it for me." Technoblade sighed and leaned back picking up your hand and interlocking it with his own. You couldn't help but notice the golden band on his left hand, it mirrored your feminine ring perfectly. "When you were dying, or when I thought you were dying all I could think about was that we never got married. That we couldn't blow more governments up together or go on adventures. So yes, it's for real, I want to marry you officially if you want a small wedding we can do that if you don't want a wedding at all I don't care. I just wanna be yours forever."

Your heart fluttered in your chest and butterflies flew around in your stomach. As brutally honest as he always was he was more than a little emotionally stunted, you knew this was hard for him. You leaned forward and kissed him, it was long and passionate, you felt his fingers curl around your hair. As you pulled away you felt him try to chase your lips with a frustrated whine,

"I wanna be yours forever Techno. You're everything I ever wanted in life, I've never been happier than when I'm by your side. All my life I've been a wanderer, going from place to place, never really having a home. You gave me the one thing no one has and it's exactly that, a home. Plus, you're so feral which is so hot." You added just to watch his face scrunch up and you felt him push you down against the pillows.

"You ruined the moment. I changed my mind, the wedding is off." He huffed with no real feeling behind the words, "you should rest."

"I've been resting. Help me get up I wanna go outside." You scoffed with an eye roll swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You noticed your ankle was wrapped in a tight bandage, you frowned wincing as you tried to put pressure on it. "Fuck, how long am I going to have to wear this?"

"At least a month is what Phil said, we need to make sure there is no lingering damage. Can't have my anarchist wife not be able to cause trouble with me."

"Oh? I'm still allowed to cause trouble with you?"

"Obviously. Especially since I'm getting you a totem of undying just to cover all my bases." Technoblade stood up helping you to your feet, "you're doing great Princess, let's see if we can make it out front." You gave him a tentative smile as the both of you slowly made your way down the ladders and outside. You never thought you'd miss the cold winter weather stinging your cheeks but here you were. "Cold?"

"Only a little." You smiled up at him and felt his cloak drape around your shoulders, he must've grabbed it before you left the room. You buried your face into the pure white fluff at the top and closed your eyes, it smelled like Technoblade and that brought you comfort. He usually smelled like gunpowder, shampoo, and cedarwood, it was by far your favorite smell. Technoblade's hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. The both of you just stood there enjoying the flurries of snow as they fell down around you, his thumb gently brushing against your hip bone.

After a while of peaceful silence, Technoblade seemed to grow restless his gentle brushing turned into inconsistent taping, eventually, he pulled you in front of him only to begin to sway with you in your arms. "You getting bored?" You looked up at him and reached to cup his cheek in your hand, he hummed pleasantly at the contact.

"A little."

"Aw, my poor baby," You cooed and he grumbled under his breath at the sarcastic tone your voice took. "Kidding, don't get pouty I'm messing with you, if you want I can read to you? Or do your hair cause it's...a mess."

"You mean you aren't head over heels in love with this unwashed rat's nest?"

"Unwashed." Your nose scrunched you and he smirked wickedly, "I know that look. Don't you fucking dare-" You let out a shriek as Technoblade began to rub his head against your cheek, making his hair fall over your shoulders. "TECHNO! TECHNOBLADE YOU ASSHOLE STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

"What? I'm being loveable and soft. Is this not what you want?" He purred holding you tighter against him as you wiggled in his arms trying to break free of his vice-like grip.

You growled at him, "NO! You dick!" Technoblade could only snicker at your dismay but pulled away from you per your request.

"I'll go shower," He pulled away to scratch at his head "want me to set you up by the fireplace? I'll meet you there when you're done?"

"As long as you shower I'll do whatever," You huffed and he snickered picking you up to carry you inside the house. "Stinky pigman," His face shifted into the said creature and he poked you with his nose. You rolled your eyes as he sat you down on a chair, reaching up you scratched his snout, he made a dulcet sound before pecking the side of your head. The fire popped and crackled as the heat warmed your frozen cheeks. Snowflakes melted in your hair making you shiver from the brief chill they let off, closing your eyes you took in a deep breath of air.

Married, you couldn't believe you were actually getting married...to the man of your dreams no less. You held up your hand in front of you and traced the delicate details on the band, you felt at peace, this wedding needed to happen as soon as possible. You barely wanted to waste any more time, god knows what could happen in the next coming months, who was going to come and try to kill the both of you again. You'd have to mention it to Technoblade when he came back to see if he was okay with basically eloping. You stretched like a cat snuggling into the cushions, you'd have to get a dress though because you're not showing up to your own wedding in Netherite armor. Floorboards creaked above your head signaling Technoblade was out of the shower and getting ready to come to greet you downstairs.

You turned away from the sound, your lips pressing into a thin line as you let out a shaky breath. Tommy had been discovered under the floorboards of this very house after the rough start you had bonded with the rambunctious teen and wanted to keep him safe. Obviously, everyone knew how that ended, a part of you hoped you weren't projecting that lost care onto Ranboo. It wouldn't be fair to Ranboo if you treated him like another Tommy, the child you wish you could've helped.

Twirling your fingers around your (h/c) hair you only delve deeper into those thoughts. You wanted to help Ranboo, you wanted to help all the kids, the trauma they all have gone through had to be tremendous. Ranboo living on the property was a start, away from the crater of a failed country and anyone who would want to hurt him. You were going to protect him, this wasn't going to end up like Tommy's betrayal, you'd make sure of it.

TINK

Technoblade would probably call you insane if you mentioned this plan to him, but then again he was never one to feel pity or sympathy for those he didn't consider family. Even so, you hoped this boy would open up to you and consider you a parental figure in his life. Hopefully, Technobalde would warm up to him as well, you both all could be a little family.

TINK

Okay...maybe that was jumping the gun. You barely know him, for all you know he could secretly be helping Dream as a double agent or something. Okay, (Y/N) now you ARE being insane that's absurd.

TINK, TINK

What the FUCK was that sound. You turned to the window and could only make out a little smiley face in the corner of the glass, for some reason unease settled in your stomach. Where did that come from?

"Princess?" His sonorous voice filled the room crashing over you like a wave of clarity amongst the ever-growing fog of your mind.

You jolted in your seat before turning towards your fiance, "Hi bubbas."

"Hallo," Technoblade was shirtless his scars on full display as well as his muscles. One was way more important than the other to you, you can guess which one. His pajama pants sat loosely on his hips as he wandered over to sit in front of you, his head resting between your thighs. You had to hold back a giggle at the pleased look on his features, his hands came up, giving them a soft squeeze.

"You having fun?"

Yes. OBVIOUSLY. You could crush our head with those thighs, so yes. So soft. We need to stay here forever.

"They're okay," He replied casually as your fingers carded through his pink hair. "I definitely don't want you to try crushing a watermelon."

"Oh my god." Your shoulders began to shake and you placed your forehead on top of his own, he only smiled softly. Your laughter was sweet and made him think of a small little bell chiming in the air.

"You're gonna braid my hair now right?"

"Obviously."

"Thank you, Princess."

You were a little taken aback by his genuine tone, there was no hint of sarcasm or his usual teasing voice.

You love him more than all the stars in the sky.

He looked up at you with his big red eyes, as you began massaging his scalp. He let out a throaty moan, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your blunt nails on his scalp. "Jesus Princess, you're a goddess."

"As long as you never say I rival Aphrodite you can call me a goddess all you want." He laughed and nodded his head,

"You have yourself a deal."

"I can't wait to marry you as soon as possible."

"You're really obsessed with me huh? You a fangirl? That's a little creepy not gonna lie."

"Oh, I'm your BIGGEST fan. I live in your house and sleep in your bed."

"Cringe," You rolled your eyes dramatically but pecked his lips stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Seriously though, can it happen as soon as we can."

"How do three days from now sound? Just so we can plan properly and gather some things we need- if you want a like actually wedding." You nodded eagerly,

"Yes, please. That's all I need."

"Then it's settled."

The smile on your face was all he needed to know he made the right decision not only in marrying you but rushing the wedding,...three days. Oh shit, he was gonna be a husband in three days. The voices in his head collective said one phrase,

We're fucked.

~~~

Hi guys! Thanks for all the love for my story! Have fun with this chapter, a Karlnapity x reader might be in the works next. Not that this story is over, after all there’s still a wedding to attend.

ALSO please go read my friend quackity-love-bot’s new fic! Here’s the link: https://quackity-love-bot.tumblr.com/post/642241693382557696/skyfall

Enjoy ;)

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kalinawtokilig · 3 years

Text

S/O who sleeps (too much) in the oddest of places

Ohh, being tired 24/7. I feel ya,,

((My formats will be a bit a different as I’m experimenting which feels and looks best, so bear with me))

- Y a s . My five favorite characters of haikyuu. yes. I agree. -

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Pair(s): Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader, Suna Rintaro x Reader, Tendou Satori x Reader, Yachi Hitoka x Reader & Sugawara Koushi x Reader

Summary:

You are the type of person to either have pulled so many all nighters that fatigue has finally caught up to you and the backlash is very intense, or you are such a sleepy person you’ll take a nap anywhere, anytime. It had cause inconvenience sometimes, such as having to keep the storage closet in school locked to prevent you from sleeping and being locked in, or skipping some classes to doze off. But thankfully your partner was able to help and spot you in time before anything off happens.

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

((Ughhh, I love and pimp,,, I canNOT express that enough))

Iwaizumi knows his S/O can be such a sleepy babe

He wants you to be careful where you decide to rest

One time he wondered where you were, as he hasn’t found you in your class nor has his friends saw you in lunch

He usually visits you to check up on you, to see if you’re okay, if you got enough sleep, or if you ate

He!! Is!! Concerned!! for !! your wellbeing!!

With school ending and no practice today, Iwaizumi was eager to see you and walk you home, maybe even order takeout while watching a movie or something. When he said goodbye to his friends, he grabbed his scarf and jacket, heading to your classroom.

“Ah, Iwaizumi-kun.” One of your friends say, seeing him walk through the door and scanning the classroom. “If you’re looking for (Y/N), we haven’t seen them in a while. Last time we did it was the first few classes, then they left.”

Nodding in thanks, Iwaizumi decides to keep texting you, until you answer. But you didn’t. Which meant you kept your phone at do not disturb again OR your phone died. Again. You probably used it to listen to the newest podcast and went straight to school without sleeping a wink.Furrowing his brow, he grunted in frustration. “Where can they be?”

He thought for a moment.

‘Not in the storage closet, the janitor now locks it cause they kept finding (Y/N) in it. In the locker room? No, I got a text from one (Y/N)’s friends that they didn’t go to P.E.’

Then it clicked.

“(Y/N) better not be up there, it’s fucking freezing-”

Speed walking down through the hallways and up the stairs until he reached the rooftop, he slammed open the door and he looked around, circling the entrance, he sighed with relief.

You were napping against the back of the entrance building, a fluffy blanket and his hoodie that you were wearing to keep yourself extra warm. Not to mention you also layered his hoodie with his VBC jacket. You were lying in fetus position, your bag serving as a pillow as you snored softly, blanket pulled up to your nose.

You look so precious.

‘Snap out of it, Hajime! They could’ve gotten sick! They can’t sleep here any longer!’

Crouching down, he nudges your temple with the curl of his index finger. He’s not surprised that your skin was cold, the tint of pink on your cheeks and nose tell him how cold your face was.

“Baby, wake up.” He speaks quietly, still rubbing the crook of his finger against your temple.

Humming as your eyes flutter open, you sneezed, sniffing as you smiled in a daze to your lovely boyfriend. “Hallo, Hajime. What’re you doing up here?”

He pouted a bit, now his face is tinted red. “Idiot, I was looking for you. You haven’t been answering your phone, did your phone die again?”

You snuggled deeper into his jacket, looking so soft and cozy. Your boyfriend is practically dying inside from how cute you are. “Mm. I think so? M’not sure.”

“C’mon, let’s go home. You slept until school was over, dumbie.” He brought his hand close to you, sneaking out from the blanket, your warm hand grab his cold one, and he pulled you up, picking up your bag and then wrapping the fluffy blanket around your body.

“When we get to your place can we sleep? You’re so warm, Hajime.” You shift closer to him, snuggling against the crook of his neck.

He chuckled, ruffling your hair despite your annoyed, tired, protests. “Of course we can bubs. But you got to do your homework.”

You hummed again, softly this time. “I did it already. I can give you the answers if it means you’ll sleep with me.”

Iwaizumi sputtered, “W-Watch what you’re saying, dumbass! You can’t just say that to anyone!”

Hugging him, the fluffy blanket still covering you and engulfing him, you smiled slyly, “That’s why I’m saying it to you, babes.”

“Idiot, l-let’s go.”

“Eager, aren’t ya?”

“...Shut up.”

((Yes. Give me all of Iwaizumi Hajime. Yes. I agree.))

Suna Rintaro x Reader

((Look at him. LOOK AT HIM. Icant---))

Suna probably either does get enough sleep or he doesn’t, there’s no inbetween

Sometimes he does, cause he’s so tired from practice and collecting blackmail from the Miya twins fight

and there are times he doesn’t that you have to pick him up from class cause not even the loudest Miya twin can wake him up

That’s cause Suna trained himself to tune out Atsumu HA

But in reality, I feel like Suna is a light sleeper and if you were to wake him up, he’ll be like, “Wassup, babe?” In the husky ,,, tone,, aARYUFVAOR

He does usually need to find you, cause he does get concerned where you sleep

During gym class, you decided to fall asleep underneath the bleachers. You weren’t dead tired, but you had a big exam for three of your classes. Three tests take up a lot of mind power and studying consumes days and nights of good sleep. Thankfully, Suna had let you wear his VBC jacket today, cause he knows how cold it can be in the gymnasium.

By the time gym class ended, lunch rolled around and Suna had texted you that he was coming over to your homeroom so he can pick you up and eat with him and the twins.

Arriving at your classroom, he looks around and sees that you weren’t there. Asking your seat mates, they reply to him that they haven't seen you since gym class. Blinking at them, he nodded and left. Pulling out his phone, he checked your snapchat and you posted nothing. Swiping up, he sees that you’re still in school, but it doesn’t exactly say where, only that you’re in the Eastside.

Gym.

You’re still in the gymnasium.

He knew that you were busy studying for the three tests that he came to the conclusion that you didn’t get enough sleep, which meant you’re sleeping somewhere in the gym.

Going to your locker cubby, he opened it to see that you haven’t even brought lunch with you. Except two juiceboxes. Taking them out, he headed back to his class and picked up his own bento.

“Where ya goin’ Suna? Aren’t ya s’ppose to eat with (Y/N)?” Osamu asked.

“Hm. I will. Gotta pick’em up.” He replied.

“Good luck findin’ them then.”

“Thanks, ‘Samu.”

Suna casually walked to the gymnasium, taking long stride to get there at a shorter time. (Curse them... and their tallness)) Entering, he decided to call you. Then he heard the small ringtone you set up for him, the ‘bunny-senpai theme’ something like that. Following the sound of it, he stood in front of the bleachers in confusion. The ringtone was coming from there but you weren’t on the bleachers. Walking to the side, he heard the ringing become louder. Peeking from behind, he shone his phone light and saw a figure sitting against the wall.

Snorting, he entered into the small cave and sat next to you, seeing as you were about to fall forward, he debated on either recording you fall flat on your face, probably groan and go back to sleep, or, he cannot do that.

Being the good boyfriend he is, he placed his hand on your forehead, pulling it gently towards him, having you lean against his shoulder. He decided to take a photo, only for him and your eyes, adding it to his album of you two together. The album was called ‘Finding (Y/N)’, which was dedicated to you being found in the oddest parts of school and Suna finding you. You were mainly asleep in most of them, since that’s why he named it after you because of the places you sleep in or on.

Last time he found you sleeping on one of the library tables, far back where all the bookshelves hide that table and other forgotten books.

Throwing up a peace sign, a certain angle showing both him and you, he captioned it, ‘Underneath the bleachers :P’

Somehow the flash of the screen camera made you stir, waking up, you lazily blinked.

Suna turned to you, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Nice nap?”

Sighing, you nuzzled against his shoulder. “S’cold, Rin.” You muttered. Opening his bento, he picked up some meat and popped it into his mouth, talking with his mouth full he replied, “S’cause you’re wearing shorts, babe.” He draped his hand over your exposed legs, patting them softly and then pulling it onto his own. “Where’s your sweats?”

“Mn, I’unno. Must’ve put’em in the laundry. Or something.” You said, going back to sleep until you sniffed your boyfriend’s lunch. Tired eyes shooting up, you rub your head against Suna. “Can I have please?”

Chewing rice, Suna picked up a piece of spice pork and offered it to you.

Taking a bite, you mewled at how good it tastes.

“Nice hiding place, by the way.”

“Thanks, bubba.”

((Omg,,,, I fuckin LOVE HIMMMM))

Tendou Satori x Reader

(AUYROVARFOYVARFOY YES,,,, I SIMP AND PIMP ))

OHHH what an energetic boi *cue puppy eyes uwu*

When he sees you napping he finds it sooo cute!!!

He can’t help but coo and call you the cutest nicknames for you to wake up too

“Peach” - “Jellal to my Erza” - “Beloved” - “Sweetcheeks” etc etc YUGFOEUYFGOUYEFV I LOVE TENDOU!!!!!

Shiratorizawa is a big school

He usually wants you to go straight to your dorm or his dorm so you can nap, but he does want you to text him so he can see you and plop down next to you so you can nap together <3

If he can’t nap, he’ll read manga next to you be enveloped by your body warmth

When you forget to text him AND you’re not in either dorm, you know he’s gonna f i n d y o u

out of love, ofc <3

At the end of practice, Tendou headed to his dorm, ready to shower and change into comfier sweats. Opening the door and dropping his bag to the side, he noticed there wasn’t a familiar lump on his bed. Shrugging, he took a quick shower and changed into warmer clothing. Drying his hair with a towel, he sat down on his bed and checked his phone.

“Ara, (Y/N) isn’t in their dorm. Good thing their roomie is there. Time to find my sunshine~!” Standing up, he pocketed his phone and closed his door. He could use the snapchat app, but he always like a challenge. Checking your reoccurring and unusual sleeping spots, he had found that you weren’t there at any of them.

Humming, he had overheard from your classmates as he passed the hallways that they haven’t seen you after lunch. Like the good partner he is, he remembers your schedule. Since you had some of the same breaks, he made sure to drop by and wake you up so you can eat. He does find it worrisome that you like to sleep a lot that you forget to eat sometimes, but he doesn’t mind if that means he gets to see you more often! And talking about remembering schedules, he would sometimes pull you out of class so both of you can go into one of your hiding spots and catch up on whatever you wanted to talk about.

Tendou loves hearing about your dreams. You tell him you have the weirdest and coolest anime-esque dreams when you’re at a specific place in school, saying it ‘Awakens your dream eye’. He indulges on it, saying that maybe one of your dreams can become a really cool manga idea, so he decided to help you keep your dreams consistent, doing research as in keeping a dream journal to continue the awesome dream you had, most of the time, you have your boyfriend on edge with how detailed your dreams can be.

“My angel, lil’puppy, light of my life, where can you be?” He sang out at the hallways, passing by students who stayed a bit late to continue their studies or help around the school by cleaning.

Stopping for a moment he recalled what your friend said;

“(Y/N) probably dozed off again. I haven’t seen them since lunch and before that, we had lab.”

Humming a made-up tune, he made his way to the lab reserved for the third-years, and as he slid open the door, he turned on the light and looked around. From checking to the storage closet and underneath the student’s desks he pouted a bit.

A light bulb went off in his redhead.

Going to the teacher’s desk and pulling away the swiveled chair, he bent down and smiled.

“Found you, (Y/N)-ba~by!”

You were sleeping soundly, your knees pulled up to your chest and Tendou’s VBC jacket being worn as it made you look so much more endearing.

“Wake up, you hibernating bear. Gotta get up before someone finds us.” He crawled close to you and he cupped his hand on your soft cheek, turning to pinch it. Eliciting a whine, you scrunched your nose and glared with your eyes closed.

“Open your eyes and time to rise! Satori is here to bring you back to your kingdom!” He teased, seeing that you started to stir, but your eyes are still closed. You held out your grabby hands and he pulled you into his arms.

“Must’ve been a nice dream to have you skip all of your afternoon classes and forget to text me. Why sleep here?” He asks as he smoothed out your hair, you caught his hand and nuzzle your face into his large palm, his heart doing everlasting flips as how adorable you are.

“Mm, kinda...superhero dream. S’a redhead antihero. Kinda lo’like you, Satori. He’s so cool, tryin’ ta change the system.” You replied a bit slurred, your eyelids opening half-way to stare lovingly at him.

With his lip wobbling and eyes smiling, he lightly rubbed his nose against yours, “Always the smooth talker, aren’t ya, love?”

(((I am dying. IWANT HIM IWANTAHIMMMMMM)))

Yachi Hitoka x Reader

((SYUFOYVFYYOYV YES I AGREE I LOVE HER I WANNNT HERR IM A GREEDY PERSON OKAY OMG LET ME SIMP IN PEACE JEEZZ)

The pretty girl worries to death

Yachi knows that you don’t sleep at night cause you’re too busy gaming

Last time she slept over at your place, she tried her best to stay up for you but she passed out, when she woke up, YOU WERE STILL AWAKE

Finds ways for you to sleep early so she won’t have to find you sleeping in the storage closet beside the folded chairs

Conflicted on not wanting to wake you up or waking you up so you won’t get in trouble

You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping! She really dislike waking you up :(

As practice rolled around, Shimizu-senpai asked Yachi to pick up some more chairs from the storage closet. As she walked there and opened the closet, she heard soft snoring.

She should know that it was you, but she was scared to move anything cause she doesn’t know exactly where you are sleeping on. Shuffling slowly, she peaked over some of the corners, reaching the blue mats, she saw the tuft of your hair at the opposite end. Climbing onto the mat, she crawled and looked down, seeing that you were sleeping in a cramped space.

‘How can (Y/N) be possibly comfortable?’

Your head was leaning against the stacked mats, knees pulled to your chest and arms crossed on your knees. Just as Yachi was about to reach and fix your hair, she squealed when you caught her wrist, pulling it down as her face was closely met with your tired eyes glaring at the person who tried to wake you up. Softening your stare, you smiled kindly, loosening the grip on Yachi’s wrist and kissing it from holding it a bit tight.

You were satisfied with the new color plastered on her face, a stuttering mess.

“(Y/N)! W-What’re you doing s-sleeping here?! Don’t you know how cramped it is? And dusty?” She asked, avoiding your gaze.

Humming, you rubbed the pad of your thumb against her soft wrist, “M’sitting on a spare towel. What’re you doing here?”

“I had to get chairs for practice.”

Groaning, with your other hand, you rubbed your temple. “I missed my last two classes. Damn.”

Yachi pouted cutely, “(Y/N), did you sleep at all?”

“I took a power nap. For five hours. Heh, don’t act so mad, buttercup. At least I got to wake up to you.” You flirted, snickering at how redder she became.

“D-Don’t do that! I’m trying to be mad at you! You know I worry about your health. An average teenager should try to at least sleep seven or eight hours!”

Sighing, you smiled at her with fondness, “I’m nocturnal, Hitoka. I sleep as much as possible when it’s the daytime. And I know for a fact that a student like you doesn’t sleep as much considering all the advanced class work can be a pain in the ass. Wasn’t it two nights ago you face timed me at two in the morning cause you were ready to set your homework on fire?” Smirking as you observed her sputtering for an explanation, you raised your hand and held the back of her head.

“I’ll fix my sleep schedule if you give me daily kisses, how about that? Would you accept my offer, princess?” Your lips ghosted her, you can practically feel how warm her face is.

Staring at her, she scrunched her brows and pursed her lips. “I don’t mind that proposal.” Yachi whispered.

Grinning, you straightened your back as Yachi willingly leaned down to tilt to the right and returned the kiss. Pulling away, you stuck out your tongue between your teeth with a successful smile.

“Since you’re awake, can you help me bring some chairs to the gym?”

((I’m dying. I’m dying. IM DYING))

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

((This man,,, goddamn,,, angels voice DEVILS WORDS))

Sugawara knows you love to sleep too much

He wonders if you hibernate in the winter

Makes jokes about you being bear,,, or a cat

Would sometimes invite you to his house or go over to your place so he can make sure you eat and remind you to do your homework

Babe loves to nap with you after practice!!

Snuggling into all the pillows and blankets you hoard

“I am in the cave of the hibernating honey bear”

“Koushi, go to sleep”

Sugawara knows how sleepy you are, so he doesn’t mind coming to your place and greeting you with kisses for you to wake up to. Even though practice ended late and Coach Ukai was pushing them a bit harder, Sugawara became a bit energized after showering and walking a bit faster to get to your place. After your first-year together, you decided to copy your house key and give it to him. Arriving to your place, he opened the door and knocked off his shoes, greeting your parent as they told him you were sleeping, as usual.

“I was lazy to cook, Sugawara-kun. So, I ordered you guys pizza and burgers. Knowing (Y/N), I know they would complain to me if I haven’t bought them fries either. It’s in the living room, so try to wake up that tired kid o’mine to eat. Went straight to sleep when they came home.” Your parent sighed, shaking their head at your behavior.

Sugawara chuckled. “I’ll bring them down, don’t you worry!”

“I’m positive you will. If it’s you and food, (Y/N) won’t mind at all.”

The teen went up the stairs and opened your door, switching the lights on as his eyes landed to the barricade of blankets and pillows that shifted a bit. Walking closer, he saw the small exposure of your facial features. Tearing away the blankets, he smiled as he leaned in to pepper your face with soft kisses. The apples of your cheeks, forehead, temples, nose, and lastly, your own lips.

Stirring, you slowly blinked.

“Good evening, Sugar. Did you sleep well?”

You grunted.

“Come downstairs, there’s food!”

Two hands shot out from the blankets as you held onto your boyfriend’s shoulders, pulling him down as he yelped.

“Koushi, you can’t use food against me. I was sleeping.” You said in a tired voice.

He turned to his side to look at you, lifting his finger and tracing your face, cheeks, nose, arch of your nose, and your lips. You took his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. With half-lidded eyes, you watched underneath your lashes the pink hue on his face, even the mole near his eye was highlighted.

“You have to get up, (Y/N).” “Why.”

“So we can eat and watch anime!”

“Hmm.” You brought the hand you were holding close to your chest, “But I wanna stay here and hold you.”

Sugawara can be speechless at how flirtatious and bold you can be, even if it was unintentional. But he knows you, and he knows how to play this game.

Shuffling close, you can feel his body heat, “If you wake up, I can give you some of the answers to the homework. And hand feed you fries.”

Eyes fully awakened, you smiled cheekily, “You know me so well, Sugarplum.”

#sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #yachi hitoka x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty · 3 years

Text

What if hallucifer stayed with Sam throughout the whole show? What if cass didn't really fix the problem, but only took the pain away?

Sam walks out of that hospital knowing he's not alright. Knowing he's never gonna be alright. He gets into shotgun, dean smiling next to him warmly, Lucifer smiling at him from the back seat. Cold dead eyes.

Lucifer is there with him when dean and cass get blasted to who knows where. Crowley tells him he's all on his own, Lucifer laughs next to him.

He meets Amelia, but eventually she leaves him. He doesn't blame her, who would want to be with a guy who talks to air and barely sleeps? He starts drinking a lot after that.

Dean comes back, from purgatory apparently. He doesn't know about lucifer, Sam never told him, didn't want to make himself a bigger burden for his brother. So he lies, tells him he was with Amelia this whole time. Dean gets angry. Sam knew he would, but it's easier this way.

Lucifer is with him when they find the bunker, commenting on the ugly lamps. Sam snickers, dean looks at him weird, but doesn't say anything.

Lucifer is with him when he completes the first trial. He looks down to Sam who is covered in blood. He points to the dead hellhound. "I knew that one." He says. "Her name was Ashley."

Lucifer is with him when he goes to hell to rescue bobbys soul. "I did not miss this place." Lucifer whispers next to him. A shiver goes down Sam's spine.

Lucifer is with him when he's just about to finish the last trial. Lucifer always keeps quiet when Sam is completing trials, something about "purification." Sam doesn't really know, he mostly blocks him out.

He's there when dean comes and stops him. He's yelling at Dean, telling him to go, leave them. But dean cant hear him, he knows he cant hear him. Sam doesnt know why Lucifer even tries.

Lucifer is in the back seat of the impala when Sam wakes up. He doesn't remember getting into the impala. He remembers passing out in the mud in front of the church. His clothes are clean now though. Lucifer is quiet.

Lucifer has stopped talking to him, he just hovers now. It's driving Sam mad. He's not used to the strange silence, but he doesn't suspect anything weird until he starts losing fragments of his day.

He starts noting down time frames that he loses. He started when he was researching in the library at 2:45pm, blacked out, and came to in the kitchen at 3:14pm. Lucifer stays out of his way. Sam sometimes thinks he has a look of pity on his face, but that can't be right, can it?

Sam eventually asks dean about this. His brother just brushes him off. Lucifer continues to hover.

Crowley comes and saves him. Sam kicks the angel out. He opens his eyes to see Lucifer staring at his brother. "I guess sammy has a thing for kicking angles out."

Deans starting to get suspicious. Sam's zoning out more and more. Eyes glazing over as he just listens to Lucifer ramble on about nothing. About everything.

"You good Sammy?" Dean asks him one day while they're eating breakfast. Sam answers too fast. Dean only gets more suspicious.

Dean eventually finds out, Sam knew he would sooner or later. He finds dean with alcohol more often now. A look of guilt is permanently stuck on Sam's face.

"Its not your fault Sammy." Dean always tells him. Sam is finding it harder to believe him.

Sam zones out more often. The only thing that can bring him back is deans touch. Deans heavy hand on his shoulder bringing him back down to earth, grounding him. Deans always looking at him with this sad smile. Sam feels like he's failed him.

Lucifer is with him when he finds out dean got the mark of Cain. "Oh that's a nasty little thing." Lucifer comments next to him. Sam has taken to ignoring him, it eases deans mind.

Dean is getting worse and worse. And so is Sam. Dean is slowly losing care for Sam and he's not there for him anymore. He's not there to ground him, to pull him back.

Sam starts zoning out for longer periods of time. Dean doesn't seem to care, only rolls his eyes. Lucifer watches perched on a chair next to him. "Does big bro not love you anymore?" Sam flinches.

Lucifer is there when dean dies.

Lucifer is there when Sam finds the note. "Aww big brother left you." Lucifer laughs.

Sam is spiralling. Lucifer talks to him more and more as Sam searches for his brother. No-one is there to ground him anymore. No-one is there to help him. One day Sam accidently talks back to Lucifer. Lucifer looks shocked for half a second before that cold smirk comes back to his face.

"Its been years since you talked to me Sammy." Lucifer says one day as Sam is reading a book on demons. "I missed our little talks." Sam slams the book shut. "Shut up." He hisses.

Lucifer is right there as Sam ducks down to avoid the hammer. "I never knew why Alastair liked this one." Cass appears. Thank god. Sam falls back against the wall and helplessly covers his ears. He knows it won't block him out. "Sure he ripped apart a lot of souls in hell, but a hammer?" Sam hits his head against the wall. "Shut up shut up shut up." Lucifer laughs at him. Cass pays him no mind.

Lucifer is there when the darkness is unleashed. "Ooh aunty." He says next to Sam. Sam flinches, dean places a hand on his arm. All three stand there and watch.

"You know, I find it really uncomfortable that your brother has a thing for my aunt." Lucifer says one day. Sam looks him right in the eye. "Shut up, Lucifer." Sam hasn't looked directly at Lucifer for at least 3 years. Lucifer smiles coldly at him as dean walks up to Sam, worry and fear etched into his face. Palms out towards him like he's trying not to scare off a frightened animal. Sam doesn't feel too far off from that.

Lucifer is with Sam when he goes to see real Lucifer. Sam thinks he's going crazy.

"So, you're still seeing me huh?" Real Lucifer asks him. Sam sucks in a breath as Lucifer stands to the side of the cage. "Oh c'mon Sam. I've been inside that head of yours. There's nothing I don't know about you." Real Lucifer smiles down at him. Or is it fake Lucifer? Sam doesn't know anymore.

Lucifer is with him as he gets tourted by the British men of letters. Always sending words of encouragement, towards Toni.

Lucifer is sitting on the steps. "Ah remember our lovely time down under?" He asks, titling his head to get a better view of what the lady was doing. "Ooh blowtorch. You never did like fire huh?" Sam screams. He can bearly hear Lucifers laughter over his own screams of pain.

Dean comes and saves him. Hands all over him as soon as they're out. Lucifer rolls his eyes at them. "Mother hen." Sam tenses up.

Lucifer is there when their mother leaves them. "I guess everyone hates ya huh Sammy?" Lucifer smiles at him. Dean doesn't react, doesn't even look at him.

"Never did like the brits." Lucifer says one day. Sam smiles. Deans hands are on him straight away.

Lucifer is there when Jack is born. Lucifer is there when cass is killed. Sam thinks he's seeing double, two Lucifers talking to him at the same time.

One Lucifer stays with him, one goes with his mother. He's not sure which is which. So he asks. Lucifer laughs at him. Dean doesn't put a hand on him.

Dean always stands closer to him after that, he's always making sure that they're touching, that they're shoulders are brushing. Lucifer gets annoyed at dean. Tries to hurt him. Sam sleeps less and less, just in case, just in case one day Lucifer succeeds.

Lucifer sits right next to Sam one day, getting all up in his personal space. Dean isn't in the room. Sam silently sobs.

Lucifer is always hovering around Jack, making terrible remarks about the kid. Sam snaps one day. "Leave him alone!" Lucifer smiles at him, Jack looks up at him like a confused puppy, and dean is dragging him out of the room, his fingers digging into his shoulder blade.

Jack has started to avoid him after that. Dean tells him not to worry about it, but it breaks Sam's heart. Lucifer laughing at him for it all the time is not helping.

Lucifer is there when the vampires get him. Cheering to the side of the cave. And Lucifer is there when he wakes up. He didn't know that it was the real Lucifer.

Lucifer is with him when he makes it back to Dean, both of them. Sam only knows which one is real beacuse everyone is looking at that one. Sam feels like he's failed Dean, again.

Dean hugs Sam, but it doesn't feel real, it doesn't feel right. Lucifer pokes his blood caked neck, Sam jerks away from dean. Dean looks at him with heart broken eyes.

Deans hand is on him all the time now. Holding his arm, brushing their shoulders together. It makes Sam feel jumpy.

Sam makes sure Lucifer stays in this world. He doesn't know which one he trapped, but he hopes it was fake Lucifer. Real Lucifer is easier to deal with.

Lucifer is there when real Lucifer is killed. Sam smiles at him.

"So much for your win Sammy." Lucifer says one day while Sam is sitting in the darkness of his room. "Sure you killed me, but you lost your big brother." Sam wishes he could punch him.

Lucifer is there when Sam gets dean back.

Dean makes a comment on his beard. "Don't listen to him Sammy." Lucifer says as dean walks off. "I think you look good." Sam shaves his beard off after that.

Lucifer is there when Michael possesses dean again. He's laughing the whole time. Dean won't help him, can't help him. Dean is gone.

"Let him in the box Sam!" Lucifer suddenly snaps at him one day, making Sam jump. "Get rid of Michael!" Sam starts to cry. It's too much, not even deans touch is helping him anymore. It feels wrong, alien.

Nick attacks him, Lucifer is cheering him on. "Ah I wish he was my true vessel!" Lucifer exclaims as Sam's vision darkens.

Mary is dead, Jack is gone. "Bye bye mother Mary." Lucifer sings. Sam flinches, dean doesn't care.

"Oh so you can't put your brother in that box, but you sure as hell can put my son in?" Lucifer is yelling in his ear. Sam punches the air. Deans hands on him don't help.

Chuck comes back. Lucifer snarls at him, never stops yelling at him. It's hard for Sam to pay attention to anything, he can't hear anything over Lucifers yelling. Deans hand is on his shoulder the whole time, but he seems out of it.

Lucifer was quiet for a while after God killed Jack. Sam counts his blessings.

Lucifer is there when they rendered chuck powerless. He seems to have a grateful look on his face.

Lucifer isn't there when dean dies.

Lucifer isn't there when miracle dies.

Lucifer is there when Sam's on his death bed. He's standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest. He waves, and Sam's vision fades.

Sam's free.

Sam's finally free.

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scaryscarecrows · 3 years

Text

I'd Crawl on Broken Glass to be the One That Laughs Last

Gotham’s gone straight to Hell in a handbasket. Scarecrow’s dead, which is no loss, but Bruce is missing, Arkham blew up for reasons unknown, and the Arkham Knight’s Militia is still in control. Oh, sure, there’s a fair chunk of them in lockup, but they’ve been getting steadily more riled as the days wear on (three days since the Asylum, their boss has to be dead, who’s in charge now?), and the tanks are still running patrols, the bombs are still in the road, and there are checkpoints and watchtowers everywhere.

Jim thinks they’re waiting for something. There’s been no assault, not like he thought there might be. The street thugs and any uncaptured Rogues are still allowed to run wild, though the watchtowers have been spotted taking shots at something big flying around out there. Honestly, they’re even leaving the police alone, for the most part...but they will still shoot at the cars if they get too close. It’s like they’re on babysitting duty or something until the Knight gets back. It’s unsettling.

He’s out doing a little exploration-he doubts they’ve killed Batman, or they’d be gone, but Bruce still isn’t around-when something drops onto the roof of his car. He hits the brakes, tires screeching, and narrowly avoids sliding into a tank crossing the road.

Breathe.

Jim has no time to go for his gun before the driver’s side door gets ripped open by what Jim can only describe as the Hulk. The man outside is only a little smaller than Bane*. There’s a rocket launcher on his back and Jim’s sure he’s not the one that landed on the car, because the car would be a pancake.

He’s proven right a second later when the polar opposite of the giant jumps down. That said, this guy might be tiny, but he moves like he knows half a dozen ways to kill you. The cherry on the disaster sundae? Both of them are wearing army fatigues.

Militia. Shit.

“Boys,” he says, already planning on how to get that rocket launcher from the big one, “don’t be stupid.”

The little one doesn’t say anything. The big one laughs and before Jim can move, he’s been pulled out of the car.

“Boss wants to see ya.”

So they have a boss. Who. Who is it? One of their own? Riddler? Penguin? Goddamn Deathstroke? Who is his new problem?

“No.”

“Sorry.” The man does sound mostly sorry. “Not really askin’. C’mon.”

Jim tries to slam his elbow into the man’s collarbone. He doesn’t even really get to move before the little guy grabs his arm and wrenches it behind his back. Not hard enough to dislocate it, but hard enough to be a warning.

“We don’t want to have to hurt you, Commissioner,” the big man says. “We’re just picking you up.”

“Go to Hell.”

A gun presses against his back. Fine. He’ll go. But he won’t like it.

* * *

He’s disarmed, bundled into an APC, and blindfolded. After way too many sharp turns and double-backs, he’s...somewhere in the underside of the city. He’s thinking over near Drescher.

Wherever it is, he’s pulled out of the APC, taken inside somewhere, and handed off to new hands. When the blindfold comes off, his kidnappers are nowhere to be seen.

The men in charge of him now (and only for now, give him time…) are less...unnerving...than the other two. One is wearing the white uniform of a medic, and the other is having a snack. Cashews? Cashews.

The medic is a man on a mission. Jim doesn’t even manage to get out a, ‘you’ll be sorry’ before the man’s turning on his heel, jaw working furiously, and snapping, “Come on.”

“Where are we going.”

“Boss wants to see you, won’t listen to reason. This way.”

He stalks off and the snacker chuckles.

“Cashew?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” They follow the medic down a crumbling hallway. “They didn’t scare you too much, did they?”

“What’s with the good-cop-bad-cop routine?” he demands. “Is your friend up there gonna come back and threaten to carve my face off?”

The man just laughs.

“Probably, but he does that to everyone.”

“Sometime today!”

Huh.

Jim thinks they might be in the old mall. Scarecrow had been driving that way when something had happened, and, well, if Jim were going to have an evil base of operations, this would be a good one. Lot of ways in and out, nobody ever comes down here anymore-too dangerous-and it’s big, big enough to hold tanks and soldiers and whatever else these boys have. When they round a corner, he sees a familiar logo and decides that yes, that’s where they are. Hm.

They round another corner and end up in the back of the building. Jim’s not sure what this was, but there’s a corridor lined with doors. The medic stops in front of one and turns, hands clasped behind his back.

“Twenty minutes and no more,” he snarls at Jim. “You’re lucky you get that many minutes. You try anything, you might live to regret it. Might. You tire him out, out you go, I don’t care if it’s been two minutes. Don’t touch shit, don’t knock shit down, don’t--”

“I think he’s got the picture,” his other escort soothes. “Don’t terrorize him.”

“Humph. With the amount of work I had to put in to keep his dumb ass alive, I’m entitled to terrorize people.”

“Still.”

“And I’ll tell you something else. You lay a finger, one solitary finger on him, you so much as breathe too hard--”

“There won’t be anything left to bury,” the other man says, smiles with all his teeth. “Here you go, Commissioner.”

“Twenty. Minutes.”

And then he’s shoved into a room with--and good God, how--the Arkham Knight.

The Knight is lying in bed. He looks the worse for wear, but Jim can’t quite muster up pity for him. This...this is his fault. Gotham, Bruce, Barbara…

He swallows down the rage. Not because it’s the right thing to do, but because the Knight’s not alone. Jim supposes they wouldn’t just leave him unattended, not with those injuries, but still.

The Knight doesn’t seem to notice Jim. He’s certainly not looking at him. He’s looking at the laptop the other man has. Right now, at this exact second, he looks like a sick kid, wan and tired, eyes fluttering like he’s fighting to stay awake. But he’s not. Robin or not, he’s...the Knight’s not that boy anymore. Robin wouldn’t have done this, any of this. Robin’s dead.

“Sir.” The other man here isn’t wearing a uniform, he’s wearing jeans and a raggedy flannel that hangs open over some sort of band shirt. But his bearing is still that of a soldier’s, and the rifle leaning against the wall by his chair is top-of-the-line. “Gordon’s here.”

“Hrm?”

“Remember? You wanted to see him.” The Knight blinks a few times, heavy and confused, and tries to lever himself up before his companion reaches over to pin his shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

More confused silence. Now that he’s moved his head, Jim can see his pupils are blown wide. That’s not a surprise. He’s pretty sure he was in Arkham when it came down, and he hadn’t looked well before that.

Serves him right, he thinks, remembering the cuts on Barbara’s cheeks and chin. Serves the bastard right.

He keeps his mouth shut. The laptop has been closed and set aside, and the rifle is now in its owner’s lap. It’s casual enough, but the threat’s there all the same: you’ll go through me to get to him.

He wonders, a bit, what drives these men. He doesn’t really care, but he wonders a little all the same. Even the ones in the cells have been resolute that ‘the boss’ will get them out, that he’s got everything in hand, just you wait and see.

...in their defense, Jim had thought he had to be dead, and yet here he is. So.

“S’right,” the Knight finally breathes. He sounds terrible, and Jim suddenly matches the purple swelling on his throat to handprints. That scares him. Not out of pity or sympathy, but because what little he’s seen of the man says he can handle himself. Whoever did that… “S’right.”

“You up for it?”

He’d better be. Jim was kidnapped off the street for this.

“Yes.” Good. “Glad to see you’re unharmed.”

No thanks to you, Jim doesn’t snap, resolutely ignores the memory of the Knight holding up his hands and telling Scarecrow, voice painfully earnest, to take him and let Jim and his men and Robin leave in one piece. He settles for a curt nod, can’t quite muster up a, wish I could say the same.

The Knight pulls in a painful-sounding breath and drops his head to the side.

“Bring up the footage for Commissioner Gordon, would you?”

“Yessir.” The laptop returns, balanced delicately over the rifle. Jim doesn’t know if he wants to know what’s going on. “Hang on...give it a sec to load…”

The Knight moves and visibly bites back a wince, but the new angle means that Jim can see the full extent of the bruising on his neck.

“There we go--you okay, boss?”

“Ribs,” he breathes. “They don’t like it when people zipline into them.”

What.

“Need me to call--”

“No.” He swallows hard and beckons Jim closer. “M’fine. Just sore. And stiff.” He clears his throat, grimacing. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount.”

“M’just not used to being still this long--”

“Deal,” his friend says sharply. The Knight just grins, but that annoys the other guy. “Did you miss the flatline bit?”

“Technically?”

“I--never mind.” He makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Never mind...okay, all set.”

He turns the laptop around and Jim hesitates before perching on the very edge of the bed. Nothing terrible happens to him.

“This is footage from my helmet. How it kept going after that level of trauma, I’ll never know, but my IT department managed to recover it remotely.”

The footage picks up in a dark area, abandoned sewer network or something, probably, and it’s glitchy and stuttery.

Bruce has been caught on camera before, but not like this. This is...savage, animalistic. He comes out of nowhere, dodging gunfire and seemingly oblivious to the shouts of surprise, and moves in via a flying kick to the camera itself, which goes white and static-y for a second. A few of them come up behind him and suffer backhands and powerful kicks for their troubles, and then Bruce fills up the frame, shoulders positioned like he’s got his arms out and...and...

He looks at the Knight, looks at the bruises around his neck, and looks back at the screen in time to see Bruce going down and being dragged backwards.

“He do this to you?”

The look the man gives him is so reminiscent of the little boy Jim remembers that it makes his head spin. It screams, I know you’re not really that stupid...right?

“Well, I didn’t do it to myself.”

“--okay, sir, I’m just gonna…”

The helmet moves and Jim spots the medic from earlier before it gets set on the ground, facing Bruce. Bruce is chained to a pipe, seemingly unconscious.

“Don’t talk, just nod. Can you breathe okay?”

There’s an obvious cut--they don’t want to share it all, apparently--and then Bruce stirs and starts...giggling. Jim knows that giggle.

“What the hell.”

The Knight shudders and burrows under his blankets.

“It’s complicated. We’re reasonably sure he’s been eliminated, or at the very least contained, but--” A hand moves, presumably indicating himself. “I made it out. He might have, too.”

His friend closes his laptop and sets it aside.

“We’ve got teams sweeping Arkham’s grounds to the best of our ability,” he says. “Unfortunately, we are not a rescue team and as such are not fully equipped to handle the more unstable areas. That said, given the police department’s...track record...we would very much prefer that your men stay out of our way until we either find the individual formerly known as the Batman, or definitively confirm his demise. We’re hoping that at the very least, any injuries he may have sustained slowed him down, but we can’t prove that, given the lack of video footage for the incident.”

“It’s our understanding that Batman has, at least for the time being, lost his fight against the effects of J.” The Knight swallows. “Of Joker’s blood. I attempted to contain him--”

“Contain, my ass,” his friend grumbles. The Knight ignores him.

“I attempted to contain him,” he says again, “via...ah…”

“He blew up the goddamn asylum with himself and Batman inside,” comes the sharp interjection. “In case you managed to miss that.”

Jim had not managed to miss that, thank you very much.

“I noticed,” he says dryly. The Knight huffs a painful-sounding laugh and falls silent.

There’s. There’s a lot Jim wants to say. The Knight was Robin, and Joker killed him (and made sure they all knew it, that tape, good God, he’d sent it to everyone and Jim remembers Dove bursting into tears when she tried to tell him), but he’s not dead now, and look at what he’s done.

Much as he’d like to demand answers--or at least bring half of that up--he won’t. He doubts the man with the laptop will react well; now that he really looks, the man’s tense, clearly poised to move if he has to.

Jim can probably take him. He absolutely can’t take the others that will come at the commotion.

There’s a small dinging sound, and silence, and then an urgent, “Sir. Sir.”

“Hrm?”

“We got something.”

The Knight blinks a few times before half-surging up and demanding, “Let’s go, let’s go, then, help me up--”

“Chair or Trent?”

“Neither--”

“Chair or Trent.”

“Chair,” he grumbles after a second. “But I can walk on my own--”

“Yeah, but if the doc sees you, he’ll be mad. Here it is.”

Jim moves, semi-prepared to offer to help but not really wanting to, but they must have a system, because the Knight’s in the chair with a blanket in short order.

“I feel like a cheap Bond villain,” he’s complaining now. “One that rolls down a ramp into an electrified pool or something.”

“Maybe next time, you’ll consider your life choices, sir.”

“They weren’t supposed to come back to haunt me!”

“I know, sir.”

“Christ...what do we have.”

Should he…? Sure, apparently.

What a day. He needs a drink. A good strong one.

“My understanding is it’s better seen than explained, sir. No body, I don’t think.”

“Fantastic...the bastard’ll survive anything.”

Jim privately thinks the same applies to him, but he doesn’t share that thought. He doubts it will go over well.

The computer room isn’t crammed full of people. There’s one guy on the monitors and another one-one of the ones from before, actually, the one with the cashews-lounging in a chair next to him, drinking a Coke.

“What’s going on, you said something turned up--” He doesn’t quite hide a shiver, but when the other people in the room zero in on him, he shakes his head and insists, “M’fine.”

“Boss, I can link this to a laptop if you’re s’posed to be in bed--”

“M’fine. Pull up the footage.”

“You’re not gonna like it,” monitor-guy says, spinning around and wheeling over to make room. “Looks like he got out, same as you.”

“Seriously?”

“Would I joke when it mattered, sir? Here, look. See this?” He makes the screen bigger. “That look familiar to you?”

It certainly looks familiar to Jim. Bruce’s cowl is difficult to mistake, and there it is, crumpled in the rubble. It’s singed, and one of the ears is broken, but it is Bruce’s cowl.

“Damn,” the Knight breathes, and...Jim doesn’t like admitting it, not after tonight, but...he looks so young. A scared little boy, that’s all. “That’s not good.”

“What do we do, sir?”

“We don’t even know for sure if he’s out.” The Knight’s friend leans over the chair to get a better look at the monitor. “Maybe he tried getting out and died, we don’t--”

“I made it out,” the Knight says quietly.

There’s a wave of annoyed grumbling that includes at least one, ‘self-sacrificing dumbass’ and a, ‘in spite of your best efforts’. Jim has to wonder about that one. He can’t muster up that much sympathy, but he does wonder.

The Knight just sighs and adjusts his blanket around his shoulders.

“Fair. Anyways, seeing as I found a way out, it’s not unlikely that he’s done the same, barring the. The possibility of an instant death. I suspect we wound up in a pocket, though, so.”

“You didn’t notice anything on your way out?” Jim demands. “Was he right with you?”

“I was--”

“Concussed and bleeding to death,” a new voice snaps. “And in no shape to be walking, let alone note-taking. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

“Briefing the--”

“Literally anybody else can do that.” The angry voice belongs to the medic from before. “You don’t seem to understand what ‘flatline’ means, sir, or maybe you’ve just got a death wish, but tough fucking titty, said the kitty, you’re not dying on my watch. Say bye-bye to the commissioner, you’re going back to bed and staying there or on God, I’ll put you in a coma and keep you there until you don’t have so much as a bruise. Do I make myself clear?”

Jim expects argument. None of the Robins ever let Batman boss them around to that extent, and he knows damn well that if he’d backtalked his superiors like that, he’d be in, frankly, deep shit. But the Knight just sighs.

“He’s been here long enough, anyway.” Long enough for what? “Keep your men out of our way, Commissioner. No offense, but Batman existed for a reason. You can’t handle him.”

Jim bristles.

“Can’t handle--”

“You know it’s true,” he snaps, and straightens up, turns to the man with the cashews. “Call everyone back.” All of a sudden that’s no longer a little boy playing Soldiers. That’s the man that crippled Gotham within hours. “I want everyone off the streets and back at base, now. Do not engage under any circumstances.”

“Yessir.”

“Get into the street cameras,” he continues. “If a rat comes out of a sewer, I want to see it. I want whatever drones we have left out and searching, but leave the car alone. That hasn’t worked so far and I’m not losing more--”

He must breathe wrong, because he suddenly starts coughing, harsh, violent whoops from down in his chest.

“Get him back to bed,” the medic orders once the coughs cease. “Or he’ll be Snow White and believe you me, nobody is getting in here to kiss him awake.”

“Jones--”

“We can handle this, sir. We’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“But--”

“You trained us for this, remember? We’re professionals.”

The Knight falls silent, one hand still pressed against his ribs, and finally melts back into his chair.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Bye, commish.”

He doesn’t recognize the men that take him back. The streets are empty, though, barring the patrolling drones, and they make it back to the GCPD unscathed.

Unfortunately, Jim returns to, quite frankly, a disaster. The officers on duty are tied up, and the militia cells are empty. Not a man left. He’s just freeing Cash when the broadcast screen crackles and the Knight appears on it, face serious.

“I mean it, Commissioner,” he says. “Keep out of the way, or I’ll put you in a cell instead.”

“You--”

“Tell Bullock hey for me, would ya?” He leans forward. “Stay safe.”

Click.

THE END

*I’m figuring Bane is bigger than the Giant Mooks because his boss fight consists of you jumping on him to slash his Venom tubes AND because he can and will run you over, while Giant Mooks of any affiliation are not rideable and don’t run.

#fic #jason todd #arkhamverse #jim gordon #the squad #laughing batman timeline #happy birthday jason!#i still love you even if canon doesn't #(also friendly reminder that jay is a TACTICIAN)#(gotham didn't invade itself)#(he might be hurt and loopy but fuck with him at your peril)

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raith-way · 3 years

Text

Fandom: DCEU / Suicide Squad

Fic: Memento Vivere

Pairing: Revina Revnic/Rick Flag

Kiss Prompt 10: …desperately

Requested By: @asirensrage

Tagging: @jinxsflame @hughstheforcelou @uno-reverse-reversed @hiddenqveendom @ocfairygodmother @jewelswrites-ish

The Mission Comes First

Rev had learned, what felt like a lifetime ago now, to fear the words routine mission. Any time a mission became routine, she knew to keep on guard because some kind of shit was going to hit life’s proverbial fan. Despite knowing that, she had let herself relax. Because the mission had been a simple one. Her and Harley had been the only ones deployed, into a dark nightclub filled with music that she could feel vibrating in her soul and bodies sliding against each other with wild abandon. It made her crave the quiet, but she got a kick out of watching Harley mingle and enjoy time outside of her cage. As far as the mission went, they were just doing a little recon. (Rev’s first specialty.) Watch, listen, learn, report. It was the kind of mission that she could do with her mind completely disconnected. Instincts picking up the important bits while her thoughts strayed.

Harley danced, Rev observed, and Rick talked into her ear the whole time. Strict orders that kept her eyes sharp and whispered words that made her thighs tense. For a little while, it was the best mission ever. Harley was distracting the crowd with what looked like an impromptu dance battle, giving Rev a clear view of their target and his dealings, and Rick was dripping filth over their private comm about all the things they were going to do as soon as this mission was over. Her body had started to move along with the masses as she imagined a completely different body pressed against hers, and that was when it happened. When the routine mission flipped, ass-up, and she had frozen inside the club as she heard strange voices over the comm.

Focusing on the mission had been torture after that, because the comm had gone silent. The private channel and the public one. She gave Rick five minutes, she trusted him enough to take care of himself, but she could only control herself for five minutes. Once time was up, she started jumping with the crowd just a little out of beat. She caught Harley’s eyes, and she knew the woman could understand her because she clapped her hands in the air and pulled attention to herself. Rev used the window of opportunity to slip out of the club unnoticed, and she could hear the heavy door clang behind her as she strained to see around her. Rick’s command center for the night was nearby, and that was where she went. Started at a leisurely walk and then slowly built into a jog, until she was nearly running. The nightclub had been in one warehouse, and Rick was set up at a different warehouse far enough away to not be noticeable. Too fucking far away, in her opinion.

The first body was a bit of a shock. Neck twisted at an odd angle, sprawled across the ground, but she didn’t slow her run and just jumped over the body instead of stopping to inspect. The second body was less of a shock, face and chest shining wet and red in the darkness, and she jumped over the body and upped her speed. By the time she reached the warehouse she was looking for, she had vaulted over two other very obviously dead bodies and was breathing heavy from the panic rather than the fast pace. The next shock came from the bright light inside the warehouse, and she skidded to a stop in front of the rolled-up door. Just outside of the falling light. The thick leather heels of her boots caused some noise, enough to get some attention, and Rick’s eyes snapped up to hers.

“The fuck’re you doin’ here, Revnic?” Using her surname wasn’t a good sign, but she didn’t care about which of her names that he was using because she could clearly see blood. He was sitting behind a table, just a plain white fold-up table, and leaned back in his chair. The coat he was wearing to ward off the chill was gaping open, showing the dark shirt underneath, and she could clearly see rips in the material. Rips from blades. On the floor under him, she could see grouped drops of blood. (Not puddles of blood. He wasn’t bleeding that much.)

“Strange voices, dark comm, what the fuck?” No one had ever accused her of not getting to the point, and she completely ignored Rick’s I’m-the-team-leader-show-some-respect glare.

“I was doing a perimeter check, and I got stabbed,” he answered as he sat up straighter. He visibly winced as he slumped forwards in his chair, like she wouldn’t worry if he hid the damage behind the table, and she reached up to pull at her hair. Her stupidly dyed hair that had been dyed for this stupid mission, where Rick had been stabbed while not even being involved in the mission part of the mission.

“What? Why’d you get stabbed?” she rushed out. If they’d been found out, someone would have come after her or Harley. Why go after Rick? Better yet, how’d they get the jump on Rick?

“Not like I stopped to interrogate them. I was a little busy with being stabbed,” he mumbled and rubbed absently at his jaw. Had one of them clocked him? He quit rubbing at his face and pressed his fingers against his temple as he looked right at her. “I got a little distracted.”

“Are you telling me that you can’t handle phone sex and not getting stabbed at the same time?” She finally marched forward, out of the darkness and into the harsh light of the warehouse Rick had claimed, and she bit down on her grin as Rick instinctively sat up straight in his chair.

“It wasn’t phone sex,” he complained. As soon as she was close enough, she grabbed at his shoulder and pushed him back in the chair.

“Comm sex sounds stupid.” She was talking while pulling up the dark tee that he was wearing, and she swiped her hand across the blood that had streaked down his torso. She heard him hiss through his teeth, but she could see now that the wounds themselves weren’t so bad. Two lucky strikes, enough to break the skin and make a mess, but he probably wouldn’t even need stitches. Just a big band-aid slapped on for a day or two.

“Mission ain’t over, Revnic,” he told her as she swung her leg over his lap. Her shirt was dark enough that it wouldn’t show bloodstains, and it wasn’t like she’d care if she did walk back into the club with blood all over her shirt.

“Just checking on my team leader.” She kept one hand pressed against his stomach, high up on the left with already drying blood sticking to her skin, as she leaned forward and knocked her chin against his. “Next time you need to take a break to kill some interlopers, you keep me on.”

“That get you off, Rev?” The words were said against her lips, warm breath against her skin and the taste of the mints that he favored slipping down her tongue, and her free hand locked around his neck with enough force to leave bruises in the shapes of her fingertips along his hairline.

“Knowing you’re alive gets me off.” She whispered the words into him, so that he could taste the truth of what she’d said, and she thought of his voice cutting off. Of not being able to hear him. Of not knowing if he was alive or not.

Before she could have another thought, of Rick dying or him killing four men while she danced with strangers, they crashed together. She bit at his lips until he cursed against her teeth and gripped her hips hard enough to ache, and she lost herself in him. They pushed and pulled at each other, desperate to leave marks that belonged to them, and she ducked down to feel the thundering pulse in his throat pushing against her tongue. Sealed her lips around the thin skin and sucked, nipped with her teeth and pulled, to leave a mark over the place that proved he was alive. She could feel fresh blood against her hands as her fingers curled against his skin, like she could pull him apart and bury herself inside his chest cavity right next to his beating heart, and she could feel her hair being pulled as she was ripped away from his skin so that his lips could devour hers. Her mouth felt hot and sensitive, bruises were blooming across her hips and thighs, and it wasn’t enough.

When Rick pulled away, she actually whined. A high-pitched sound slipped from her throat as her hips rocked forwards, and Rick sat up straight to hold her steady against him. One hand curled around the back of her thigh, fingers pressing in, and the tight grip he had on her hair allowed him to hold her back. Even if she did lose a few strands of hair while trying to taste the jumping muscle in his jaw. Her eyes opened to look at him, to see how his usual stern expression hardened into something that echoed the hunger in her, and she tipped her head back to bare her throat as she let out another quiet sound of need.

“We have a guest,” Rick said slowly. He was looking directly at her, looking at the way her tongue swiped across her bottom lip as she chased the taste of him, and she forced herself to focus. Behind her, she could hear heavy leather shifting against concrete.

“Don’t stop on my account, boss. I’m gettin’ quite the show,” Harley told them cheerfully. Mission, right. If Harley was here, that meant that the mission was over. (Could also mean that Harley had gotten worried and decided to check on them, or it could mean that she had gotten impatient and just killed the target. Rev was okay with all the options.)

“Love ya, Harls, but… no,” Rev said and looked over her shoulder. When she bowed her spine to look over her shoulder without dislodging Rick’s hand from her hair, her hips rolled forward and Rick’s fingers slipped to grip at her inner thigh. From her bent angle, she could see Harley pouting and kicking at the ground.

“Always ruinin’ the fun,” Harley sighed. Rick echoed the sigh, so perfectly that Rev almost laughed, but she was saved from getting that lecture as Rick suddenly gripped her hips and lifted her from his lap.

“Harley, report,” he snapped out. Harley straightened, standing at perfect attention, and even her salute was right on point. Once Rick was standing, Rev dropped to sit in his chair and waited for the debrief to be over. In the meantime, she had some plans to make.

#oc: revina revnic #fic: memento vivere #revina revnic x rick flag #otp: need you closer #suicide squad #rick flag x ofc #kiss prompts #look #my original idea for this prompt was so much different #more action and more angst #but apparently #rev's thirst for rick overrides my ideas #so here's this #thanks again for the ask!!

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balance-and-bonds · 2 years

Text

Summary:

“What the… what are you all doing? We have work to do!” It’s a justified reaction, Lucretia thinks, to finding your entire crew literally lazing about on deck not an hour into this new cycle. “This one's on me,” Taako says. “It’s a new trend I like to call: taking a fucking break.”

Cycle Nintey-Five. Everyone’s maybe not doing so good and could use a little warmth.

Read on Ao3 or below...

“Well,” Lup says, materializing on the Starblaster with the rest of them. “That one sucked.”

There isn’t time for anything else as Barry rushes over, scooping her up and causing a small shriek of laughter. She had been gone for months, as had Merle, and at the very end, even Davenport.

Lucretia glances around out of long habit, noting everyone in their designated spot. Merle back after another Parlay, Magnus again looking hale and whole, no longer with an arm in a sling from an incident with local marauders. Taako has that old familiar presence that had been missing through the long months without his twin, the dark bags under his eyes are gone, his skin no longer ashen. Barry, too, is less pallid and sickly looking after suffering a long bout with a respiratory disease the past few months, but had been strong enough to fly the ship on the final day.

“Cycle Ninety-Five, everyone,” Davenport says from the helm, quickly checking over the navigational instruments and setting their course. He doesn't look particularly fazed after being struck dead during a last-ditch effort to get the Light. His voice, though, betrays his exhaustion. “Good work getting out of there.”

Merle is already striding over to him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Made it through another one!”

“Made it through is right,” Taako says, but even he’s smiling as Lup and Barry split apart and she throws herself at him.

“Missed ya, broseph,” she says, holding tight.

“No you didn’t,” he replies, holding back just as tight. “Have a nice nap?” After so many years their losses had become easier, but it didn’t stop them from hurting, nor from missing each other like hell.

“Hope this one’s better than the last,” Magnus says, already moving towards the front besides Merle and Davenport at the console. The others join soon after, except for one.

Lucretia stays back. She had smiled at first, for their sake, but it’s forced and anyway no one notices her. The flimsy mask slips off and she moves to the window’s edge, laying a hand on the wall to steady herself.

“This one looks promising,” Davenport says, tilting the ship in a slow circling curve so the world comes more into view.

It must be already past midday, so startling bright Lucretia has to squint and lay a hand over her brow to see. The world below is iridescent, full of blue-green forests and rich red stone, with rolling hills, winding rivers, and a distant turquoise sea on the horizon. It’s a welcome sight. After landing on the last cycle there had been no sight of the sun, perpetually cold and damp with gray seas and heavy gray skies choked with ash. The people there had a similar gray look and feel, as rugged as the terrain. Some had been hospitable and helpful but many others had been warlike and wary. Still, it was a shame to have not found the Light. But they had escaped once more. As always with a new cycle, there’s work to be done.

For now, though, Lucretia slips away and no one notices. They should be able to enjoy being together again without her sullen attitude. Out on deck, going along the helm and adjacent greenhouse, past the squat stern of the ship and around to the other side, there’s a sturdy wooden bench bolted down tight, courtesy of Magnus. There, Lucretia sits, staring blankly out, seeing little more than blue sky and distant purple-gray stormclouds.

The ship stops it’s circling and steadies out, sailing on straight and steady. Her head and body is in the shade at this angle, but at least there's sunlight on this plane, thank the gods. For a time she sits with her hands folded over her stomach, feeling it rise and fall as she sifts through her emotions.

“I made it,” she whispers, and then shivers, pulling her red robe closer, the chill of the previous world clinging like a fog. At least now she doesn’t have to tell the others. It doesn’t matter anymore.

The last cycle, Lucretia had tried to kill herself.

She survived, though. It’s good, of course. Distantly, she realizes it’s good. But she’s still so damn tired. Even if this new world is better than the previous one—which was remarkably bad—it doesn’t stop the looming danger over their heads. Nothing has really changed. She’s already so fucking done, and now she has to do it all over again. It was easier before when she hadn’t felt so alone. But more recently there’s been a slow acting poison in her veins that she’s finding harder and harder to struggle against, a voice that tells her she’s not needed. Not really. She’s not wanted, even by those who she calls her family.

So what’s the fucking point?

She breathes that in and feels it sit hot in her chest, and then tells herself to not be stupid. Things are fine; she needs to stop being so dramatic. They made it. They’re all back and safe. She should go try and help before she gets in trouble for shirking her duties. She just needs a minute. A few minutes. They won’t miss her, anyway.

She dips her head lower, trying to fight against that thought. It’s been harder, though, ever since the end of Cycle Ninety-Two when they had decided on a grand plan to beat out the Hunger, with her own plan so thoroughly dismissed. It's like they hadn’t even listened, or like she’s still seen as a child, a silly little girl. But she should be used to that.

Her job is the chronicler. All she’s meant to do is be quiet, stay on the sidelines, and record the stories of those who actually matter. Not her. Of course they wouldn’t listen to her. Why should they care what she thinks?

No. No, of course they care. She knows that. After so many years she shouldn’t be questioning this, she can’t afford to be so weak hearted. Her eyes shut tight as she wishes she could scratch out these feelings, tear them out of her head like a page of her journals. New cycle, new body, but these thoughts cling on, stubborn as a tick.

Well, she’ll just need to keep a tighter lid on herself. With everything else going on, with so much at stake, there’s no need to bother the others with her issues. She’s gotten better at being self-sufficient after Sixty-Five, or, perhaps, a bit worse. But she can handle this. She can pretend for their sake, anyway. They’re probably together now; she should join them, just not yet. They won’t notice if she’s gone a bit longer.

“Wondering where you ran off to,” Taako says from off to her right, coming from the stern as she had. It’s easier to go undetected that way, out of sight of the helm's broad windows. Her hands tighten in her lap.

“Just needed some quiet.” She had assumed he’d be spending the new day with Lup and the others, but it’s not surprising he’d want to check on her. Taako sits beside her, slouching low and letting his long legs stretch out across the wooden deck, his feet in the sun.

“How ya doing?” he asks.

“Fine.” She’s mindful enough that being silent is not a comforting response, nor does she want to worry him with the truth. Not anymore. New cycle and all that.

He’s quiet, and so is she.

She needs to be careful. He alone knows what she did last cycle. It was he who had pulled her from that oil-slick ocean, freezing and retching, and had stayed with her on that rocky shore as she broke down. He had listened to her. He hadn’t even shouted that much, which she appreciated. Then he had comforted her and half-carried her back to the silver ship, had gotten her warm food and into a soft bed, and stayed with her even then. When the others arrived back from their expedition, he kept her secret. In fact, they never openly talked about it after that day, but he was gentler with her, inviting her to spend time with him in the kitchen, and keeping her company during the days and restless nights.

He had been wonderfully kind. Still is, of course. But he doesn’t need to do that anymore. It’d be better to let him think it had been a momentary weakness and that she’s not still that pathetic. He’s got his sister back and the rest of them. He’s done enough.

“I’ll be fine,” she tells him, sitting up straighter and actually sounding like it. “You should go be with the others. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Uh huh.” He doesn’t move, though, other than idly twist his heel. Then his foot stops mid-twist. Without a word he yanks off his boots and socks before kicking his bare feet into the sun. Dammit. So he’s apparently not leaving anytime soon. She slouches down beside him, feeling like she’s being babysat.

At least the others have no reason to worry about her. Lucretia glances back at the familiar ship, considering that. “You didn’t tell them, right?”

“Nuh,” he says with a faint shrug. “You asked me not to. I can respect that.”

She nods, settling back again. “Thank you.” It wouldn’t matter anyway, when their deaths are fleeting. Why should anyone care if she had killed herself, or tried to? Still, she doesn’t want them to know. She can’t bear that kind of pity.

“Ya made it through, though,” Taako says with an attempt at optimism. “Survived another one.”

“Yeah. And what was the fucking point?” The bitter words slip out before she can stop herself. She shuts her eyes, because she shouldn’t be doing this. “No. Sorry. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“Chill, Luce,” Taako says in a low voice. “Don’t do that. It’s okay.”

She’s careful to breathe evenly, her eyes burning hot, and she doesn’t want to cry right now.

“I know I made it. That’s a good thing. And it’s a new cycle, a new chance, I know all of that. But nothing’s really changed. I… don’t want to keep doing this. I can’t.”

“You gotta keep hanging in there.” He doesn’t look at her, his eyes distant. “We all are. And maybe it’ll keep sucking for a bit, but you’re here. We gotta keep trying.”

“I guess,” she says for lack of anything else. That alone isn’t reassuring. She’s not sure if she wants to be here, nor anywhere. How much longer does she have to keep going? Although of course they now have an answer to that question. She appreciates he doesn’t mention that there's a plan to defeat the Hunger at last, just not her own. That place in her heart is still soft and purple bruised.

“At least that last cycle is over,” Taako says in a more normal voice, not like he’s tip-toeing around her. “That’s gotta be in the top five worst ones. Cha’boy’s missed the sun. I can’t pull off the vampire look, and those vitamin things of Merle’s were gross. And that fucking plague?”

“That fucking plague,” Lucretia says in agreement.

“Fucking thing kept coming back, that was just unnecessary. Magnus kept me up for weeks with that cough of his.”

“I’m sure that was rough on you,” she says, smiling despite herself. Taako’s easy to be with.

“It was! Big guy kept coughing on everything, can’t believe I didn’t keel over from that alone. Then that tsunami hit, and those firestorms. Oh man, and the people? Don’t get me started on those assholes. Yeah, mark it down in your records, Luce. Ninety-four: shitty as hell.”

“And the one before that,” Lucretia says, easing a little with the familiarity. It doesn’t feel so much like letting down her walls as peeking over them. “Awful.”

“Fuck yeah, that one super sucked!”

“I’ll mark that down, too.”

“Good. This year’s gotta be better than those.” He pauses before rapping his knuckles on the wooden bench beneath them.

“Maybe,” she says. For a moment the hope is almost catching, and then it fizzles out once more. “But maybe it doesn’t matter.”

He lets out a long breath at that.

“Sorry,” she says quickly, because she’s really not trying to make him leave. She doesn’t want to push him away. “Y-you’re right, maybe this one will…” But he waves a hand to quiet her and she lets the false words die, wishing she could feel better. At least he doesn’t leave.

After a moment he stretches his arms high overhead, a long cat-like motion with even his toes flexing ahead. She watches, bemused, as he then slips down off the bench, almost gelatinous, and sprawls out flat on the deck of the ship. He sits up again a second later, only to slip his arms from the sleeves of his IPRE jacket and yank off his woolen sweater, mussing up his braid and bangs as it comes over his head. When he lays down again, it’s only in shirt sleeves. He sighs with evident satisfaction.

“Join me, Luce,” he says, not opening his eyes against the glare. His skin and hair and clothing take on a golden edge in the light of this world’s sky. A minor deity, she muses. Narcissus, perhaps. Or, more kindly, Apollo, that twin god of beautiful and refined things, of truth and of sunlight.

Lucretia hesitates and then follows his lead, pulling off her robe, then her light jacket, and then her other long sleeve shirt—she always ran cold as her mother used to say—setting them on the bench and remaining in a white tank top. Tentatively she kneels down as Taako moves his left arm up into a crook for her head to rest. The wooden beams are still cool, the chill seeping through the jacket laid out beneath them, but the sun here is warm and the sky above nearly cloudless and the color of a bluebird's wing. She shifts closer to him, a warm presence, and she breathes.

It’s… nice. It’s wonderfully warm and she soaks it in, a great relief after the last world’s frequent storms of sleet and hail and freezing rain. The sun beats down, not too strong that it’s unbearable, but pleasantly so, raising gooseflesh on her bare arms as it reddens her eyelids. The dark thoughts are still there like shadows. But, like shadows, they’re chased away by the light and it’s not just that of the sun.

Fuck, she might have needed this.

“We’re gonna get through this shit,” Taako murmurs, sounding half asleep. “And we’re doing it together, don’t forget.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, because she had forgotten. “I know.”

“It’d have been an asshole move if you left me alone with Magnus and Cap,” he says. It’s joking but doesn’t quite land.

“You would have been fine, we both know that,” she replies quietly, hoping it will come off as reassuring. He makes a little noise in his throat. Without looking she knows that he’s frowning.

“We’d have missed you. We always do.” His head turns a bit, and she tilts her chin up to meet his soft gaze. “We’re better with you here.”

She lowers her eyes, not wanting to argue but also not sure if she believes him. Ever since Ninety-Two she’s felt more and more out of place. After all, she was the only dissent. It was her idea that was so thoroughly rejected. Wouldn’t it be better for them to not have her there? Not like they have much choice. Well, unless she makes the decision for them and cuts her cycle short. She would do it for them. Would they be happier that way?

It’s a chilling, miserable thought and she pushes it down. Perhaps she’s that obvious, or he’s just that good at reading her, because his arm tightens around her.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers. He sounds so sincere. It makes her want to believe him, clutching at that slender hope. She nods, pressing her lips tight.

“Cause of you,” she manages to say. “Thank you. Really, Taako.”

She loves him, all of them, and she can’t forget that in her self-pity. It’s easier, just a little, to want to keep going. For him. For them.

“Course,” he says, his voice high and pleased before then dipping low. “And, l-listen, I get how hard it is, and it fucking sucks, but you’re still here. We both are. So… I’m proud of ya, Luce.”

Her eyes jump open at that, and the bright blue sky is suddenly a watery haze that she has to blink away. She holds onto those words, pressing them like a flower between pages, tucked away safe. It’s strange, being told she might have done something good. Despite it all, he’s still here, he cares, and that’s something, at least. Perhaps that’s what she needs, now: something to hold onto.

But she’s reminded that Taako does understand her, all too well. It’s hard for him, too, especially whenever he loses Lup. He had only mentioned it once, so offhandedly she had nearly missed it, but she knows. He’s also struggling but he pulled through, and she now finds that same pride reflected.

“We made it,” she says, this time for his sake.

“Yeah.” His breath shudders as he lets it out. “Yeah, we fucking did.”

She inches closer and lays her head against the sharp point of his shoulder, her body curling towards his. Maybe she’s not as alone as she had thought.

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” she murmurs.

She expects a quip at that, something flamboyant and self-assured. Instead he slips his arm out from over her head and brings it down between them, gripping her hand and not letting go, and she holds right on back. The sun is bright overhead and they close their eyes, both of them set out to thaw after a long winter.

Not long after she hears the main door leading outside slam open. She idly wonders if it’s Magnus or Lup, but she’s too comfortable to do anything about it.

“Lucretia?” Magnus calls out from the other side of the ship, shocking her into alertness. Listening more closely now, she thinks she can hear the door to the greenhouse also open and close. “Luce?”

She sits up as Taako lets out an annoyed groan, laying an arm across his eyes like that might shut out the noise.

“Luce!” Magnus shouts again from the back of the ship. He rounds the corner and spots them, swearing and racing over before dropping to his knees. “Luce! Are you okay?”

“I-I, yes, I’m fine. What’s wrong?” She would have gotten to her feet if he wasn’t gripping her shoulders. “What’s happening?”

“Wha… nothing,” Magnus says, visibly confused and still considerably anxious. “You just disappeared earlier and you weren’t in your room or the kitchen or, like, anywhere.”

“Sorry.” She’s so thrown off she’s not sure what to say. “I uh, just...”

“I told you I was taking care of it,” Taako mumbles. Lucretia glances over and so does Magnus, who lets go at that but frowns, almost dejected.

“Right. Yeah.” He pulls away and clumsily gets to his feet, looking out of place as he stands over them. “But you guys are okay?” His hand shields his eyes as he glances to the sun. “Kind of a weird place for a nap.”

“We’re fine,” Lucretia says reassuringly, not wanting to worry Magnus who already worries too much about all of them.

“Peachy,” Taako adds. Then he lifts his arm and looks up to Magnus, apparently considering something. “Yo Mags, join us. It’s ballin’.”

Fortunately this part of the deck is wide and accommodating because he’s awfully quick to join them, laying down on Lucretia’s other side with little fanfare. She’s content to settle back between them, tucked close.

“Okay, yeah, this is nice,” Magnus says after a minute and the other two hum in agreement. Like them, he shrugs off his winter clothing, shoving the cable knit sweater onto the bench besides hers, his jacket spread below as a blanket.

It’s not even that warm, truthfully. The air is cool at this altitude, high and crisp in her nose and lungs, but it simply makes the sunlight more welcoming. It’s like springtime in the mountains, bracing and full of promise.

Magnus clears his throat and asks conversationally, “Hey, uh, so anyone else real fucking tired of running and fighting shit all the time, or is that just me?”

“So fucking tired,” Taako says.

“Cool, cool,” Magnus says, nodding.

Lucretia’s left hand is free and so she reaches out to lightly take his, not thinking much of it but simply a quiet reassurance because she doesn’t feel like talking much. But when she does, he grips her hand back so fast and with such alarming fierceness that she flinches. It hurts. Quite a lot, actually, but she doesn’t pull away. Barely moving her head, she glances over and sees him staring straight at the sky, jaw clenched and holding his breath in his chest. She stares, that feeling seeming to catch in herself as well. He keeps holding on tight, painful and desperate as if afraid to let go. Slowly, Lucretia swipes her thumb over the edge of his knuckle, a small gentle motion. He quietly lets out that tense breath, his eyes awfully bright. Bit by bit, his grip loosens.

Right. They’re all going through this hell together. She hadn’t thought how much Magnus might be struggling, trying to protect them all as they die over and over. They’re all so damn tired. They’re all suffering. It’s strangely comforting. At least they’re not alone.

His eyes flicker over to hers, a question and apology because he probably didn’t intend to crush her hand. She smiles in answer and doesn’t let go. With that reassurance he sinks down, his strong shoulders relaxing. She subtly slips her other hand into Taako's and he lets her. They continue to lie there, holding hands like children and breathing easy. Despite the hard wood at her back and the overhang of the deckhouse above them, she can almost believe they’re back home in a grassy park, watching the clouds overhead and making pictures. There might still be that innocent joy somewhere in them, even now.

Soon they hear Lup and Barry near the pointed bow of the ship. They’re out of sight but Lucretia can picture them in her mind, close together with arms full of instruments and pads of paper, the usual scene at the beginning of every cycle. There’s chatter between them, largely indistinct, and Lucretia thinks they should maybe go help. The others don’t budge, though, and anyway she’s feeling a bit like a warm puddle.

“Thought they’d be shagging right about now,” Taako mutters, and Lucretia laughs.

“Who even says shagging anymore?” Magnus says. “What decade are you from?”

“I’m almost ancient, my dude. I’m an elf of many decades.”

They’re not so quiet to escape notice, it seems, as the voices pause and are replaced with approaching footsteps.

“Oh. Huh,” Barry says, and Lucretia creaks an eye open to find him blinking down at them.

Lup appears at his shoulder and then tips her head sideways. “You good over there?”

“Luce needed some Taako time,” Taako says with a small squeeze of his hand, which Lucretia is grateful for.

“Yeah?” Lup sounds thoughtful as she comes closer. “That so?”

“I’m here, too,” Magnus says, lazily waving an arm.

Lucretia squeezes his and Taako’s hand back, memorizing the feeling, and then starts to sit up. “It’s fine, though. We can—“

“No, no, no, this looks important,” Lup is quick to say. A moment later she’s straddling over Lucretia’s entire body, her face inches away and her hand cradling her cheek. If they hadn’t spent almost a century together this might have been startling, even terrifying. As it is, Lucretia is quite touched.

“You doing okay, hon?” Lup asks, eyes locked on her own with great intensity, apparently trying to read into her soul.

“Yeah,” Lucretia says, smiling faintly. Better, anyway. She knows what her reset looks like: the same dark circles under her eyes—a reminder of that last sleepless night before their voyage—and the unfortunate spots of acne, the same dark hair at the exact same length. But she imagines her eyes might indeed betray that deeper exhaustion, the fears and worries she’s been so careful to hide.

“Last year was kinda awful, huh?” Lup mutters, stroking her thumb over her Lucretia’s cheek before gazing around: from Taako to Magnus and the open space overhead. She does this a few times, left, right, and left again before finally slumping down between Taako and Lucretia, half crushing both of them until they squirm out from under her.

“Hey!” Taako says with an undignified squawk. “Go find your own cuddle puddle!”

“Just did,” Lup replies, sprawling an arm across Lucretia’s stomach, which Lucretia clasps on reflex.

“Welcome back, Lup,” Lucretia says softly, now feeling a touch guilty for running off earlier, and also because she’s truly missed Lup. Even when she hadn’t spoken much with her these past couple years, she misses that beautiful light that she brings with her, same as Taako and all the rest. Truth is, she’s been missing Lup for a long time.

“Was wondering where you ran off to without giving me a hug,” Lup whispers, her face against Lucretia’s shoulder as she snuggles closer. Despite the lighthearted tone, there’s a quiet concern beneath that does something to her heart. Before, Lucretia hadn’t wanted to worry the others for selfish reasons—more out of a desire to not deal with any of it—but now she remembers she really does hate causing them pain. She pulls her arm out from between them and curls it around Lup’s skinny shoulders.

Barry continues to stand near their feet, the four of them now pressed quite close and almost out of space width-wise. He doesn’t move nearer, though, looking unsure with his hands in his pockets.

“Joining in?” Lucretia asks. When he meets her eyes, he’s so tired.

This last year has been hard on him. It always is, losing Lup, and he had kept busy off the ship even more afterwards so that Lucretia had barely seen him. That had seemed for the best. She had convinced herself she was handling her own dumb emotions and didn’t need to bother him. He was—and is—going through a lot and doesn’t need Lucretia’s problems on top of all the rest. But it’s not just that. She had pulled away after his and Lup’s decision was chosen over her own. Some older, mature part of her mind knows she had been acting childishly, yet she still let that distance grow. She had left him to suffer alone this year, and guilt now gnaws at her. She hadn’t meant it to go so long. It never should have gotten this bad. They have too much history, too much love between them, to give up.

“Come on, babe,” Lup says gently. “We got space for ya.”

But rather than slot between them he steps around, squeezing past the bench and stooping to pat Magnus’s shoulder as he goes. With slow movements he lays down near their heads, perpendicular to the rest.

“If you’re gonna be there, scooch,” Taako says lightly, waving his hand forward. “I could use a pillow.”

Barry concedes with a sigh. “Been a while, huh?” is all he mutters as he moves closer to all of them. It feels like another piece of a puzzle fitting into place, another tension in her heart loosening just a bit more.

A hand comes to rest on her bare shoulder—the one Lup is nestled against—and she knows its Barry by pure touch. Against her skin he writes out a question in the cryptic language they had created over the decades, borne from accident and necessity.

You okay?

She means to answer back the standard affirmative response. Then she decides otherwise because in fact she’s not terribly good, and maybe right now that’s a little bit okay. Therefore, when she reaches up and across her chest to respond, it’s only to rest her hand over his own. He hesitates at that. She can feel his fingers twitch, troubled and restless as he interprets that. For a moment, she thinks he’ll pull away. She wouldn’t blame him. Then there comes one more message, written with care:

Okay.

He squeezes her shoulder, a comforting touch, and that’s enough. He doesn’t move his hand away, and she grips his tighter, leaning her head against it. It’s good to have him back. Maybe they can talk again. She misses that. He might miss it, too, now that she thinks about it.

Merle is next.

“You guys aren’t dead, right?” he asks when he comes up on deck, staring at them and scratching at his beard. “Cause I don’t think I’ve got that much healing in me.”

“Not yet,” Taako says. “Give us a few months and we’ll see.”

“Just getting that good ol’ vitamin D you’re always harping about,” Lup adds.

“I thought you’d have already gotten that with Barry,” Merle says. Lup aims a kick at his shin, while the others laugh or groan.

They’re definitely running out of deck space between the bench and the railing, so Merle sits cross-legged against the wooden side of the ship near Taako and Barry’s heads. He doesn’t need any extra prodding to start shedding layers, yanking off his own jacket and hooded sweatshirt. Lup and Barry had already de-robed a bit as well, whether to fit in or because the sun feels really good, it’s hard to say.

“Did I miss much the last go-around?” Merle asks conversationally.

“No,” says everyone.

“Well that’s good.”

“Gonna go do Parlay with that asshole again?” Magnus asks from the other end of the pile.

“Eh, maybe, maybe not. Not gonna be anytime soon, though. He might not be pleased to see me after I called him a sanctimonious bastard and told him to kiss my ass—“

“Nice!” says Taako.

“—But all the same… Eh.” He shrugs. “Truth is I’ve missed you fellas.”

“Missed you too, Merle,” Lucretia says with a look over, and he gives a warm smile in return.

“It’ll be good to have you back,” Barry says, reaching up to lazily tap Merle’s knee. She doesn’t remember seeing those little touches much lately, like they’ve all been closing themselves off in their grief and anxiety. Lucretia thinks again that maybe they’re all, in fact, needing this just a bit.

“Cripes this is nice,” Merle says after a little time, pants rolled up and hands hanging loose over his legs, head tilted up towards the sky and looking more like a cleric than usual. “I feel like a plant.”

“Gross,” Taako mutters from beside him, now half curled around his sister.

“But mood.” Lup, in turn, has shifted to lay spread eagle over everyone else, not that anyone complains.

Soon after there comes the sound of the helm door opening and closing, and then the echo of light footsteps from around the corner. It’s quiet for a moment, movement again, and then it stops once more. Lucretia opens her eyes from her half stupor, thinking they’ll need to get to work soon. The others shift around her, but it’s half-hearted at best.

In the silence they can all hear their captain mutter, “Where the hell…?”

“Over here,” Magnus calls out. Taako and Lup groan in sync from her other side.

“What the… what are you all doing?” Davenport barely pauses as he storms over, full of righteous fury. It’s a justified reaction, Lucretia thinks, to finding your entire crew literally lazing about on deck not an hour into this new cycle.

“Uh…”

“We don’t have time for…” He stops, the indignation fading fast as he stutters to a halt, sharp black eyes quickly taking them all in. “Uh. I-s everything okay? This isn’t some sun poison or anything, right?”

“Nah,” Merle says with a lazy wave of his hand. “Don’t think so, anyway.”

“Good.” There’s clear relief, but also a growing confusion. “But then you all need to get up. We have work to do. What are you even doing?”

“This one's on me,” Taako says. “It’s a new trend I like to call: taking a fucking break.”

“Actually this is my fault.” Lucretia raises her hand. “I needed this. Emotionally.”

“Give us five minutes, cap,” Lup adds. “I also need this emotionally.”

“Same,” Magnus mutters. “I’ll take ten minutes. Last year kicked my ass.”

“Last few years, more like,” Barry says.

“When we get to a full century I’m gonna demand a pay raise,” Merle says. “And R&R.”

“Yeah, all right,” Davenport says, conceding more easily than expected. “I suppose we can spare a few minutes.”

“Got some space over here,” Merle says, patting his leg. “Join us plants.”

“Still gross,” Magnus mutters.

Davenport sighs, leaning back on his heels. It’s clear he’s considering stepping away to continue his work, not giving up the authority of captain that he’s worn for so long. Too long. It’s only then Lucretia realizes it’s been forever since the two of them had gone stargazing, spending the night with his telescope on top of the deckhouse and telling stories of the constellations, not as captain and crew but as friends. She’s been cold to him, too, and now that seems a bit unfair.

“Come on, Cap,” Lucretia says, propping an arm under her head to look at him. “It’s pretty fucking nice.” One of these nights she’ll have to bring him tea. If he’ll accept it, that is.

His mustache twitches as his gaze flickers over them, his back still stiff but he’s wavering, undeniably. He takes a moment to glance over the railing and gauge where the ship is sailing towards. As far as she can tell, it’s clear, open skies. He sighs in defeat.

“Why not.” When he looks at them again with that same critical eye, there’s a new question there, and a new bright glint. “Is undressing a necessary part of this?”

He’s answered by a chorus of: “Hell yeah!” “Obviously.” “Wait, can I take more off?” To which the answer is no.

There’s a faint laugh as he bows his head. “All right, then.” He unbuttons his jacket—scuffed in the shoulders, rubbed thin at the elbows, with the mark of a captain over the breast—before carefully slipping it off, shedding that heavy shroud of leadership, and then two more layers until he’s about as dressed as the rest of them. Davenport slips into the narrow space between Taako and the deck railing, laying his head on Merle’s lap and letting out a long and weary breath.

Then all seven are there, sprawled on the deck with their faces turned towards the sun. For a time Lucretia is pleasantly conscious of her surrounding family and of her own deep breaths and the steady beating of her heart.

“Longest two-month mission of my life,” Davenport remarks, which is met with scoffs and laughter.

“Pfft, no shit.”

“Hey, uh, not to put a damper on this,” Barry says reluctantly with an arm over his face, “but I’m gonna fry if I stay out here.”

“Oh, I’ve actually got something for that.” Lucretia takes back both her hands and raises them overhead, fingers dark against the blue of the sky. She pauses, trying to recall how it goes before spreading them wide with a whispered incantation. A translucent shield bubbles around them, flickering briefly before fading almost entirely. It becomes slightly darker than before and the burning sensation on her skin fades. Her hands drop as she settles back, quite content. “That should hold for an hour or so.”

“What’s this?” Barry asks. Lucretia rolls her head backwards to see him poke an arm through the barrier, silver magic fizzing around his skin.

“UV Blocker spell,” Lucretia says lightly, but can’t quite disguise the pride. “I created it a couple cycles back when we were traipsing through the desert with that caravan. Haven’t had a chance to use it since, but yeah. Should have thrown it up sooner, thanks for reminding me.”

“Damn, just making up spells?” Merle says with a soft chuckle, gazing about.

“That’s very impressive,” Davenport says, sitting up to better see it.

“Thanks.” Her lips twitch into a smile, unused to hearing that kind of praise, not in a long time anyway. “You know, I’m actually pretty fucking good at shields.”

She winces a little at that, and then winces harder, her face scrunching. Fuck. She honestly hadn’t meant anything by it. It was meant to be a little proud, a little in jest, but those words could easily come across as bitter. That’s not what she meant. Especially not now.

“Wait, shit,” she mutters, her face burning for a different reason. “I-I didn’t—“

“Hell yeah you are,” Lup says brightly, once again throwing an arm over her and pressing tight. Barry, too, squeezes lightly at her shoulder. Magnus chooses that moment as well to fling a heavy arm across her stomach right alongside Lup’s. It’s overwhelming, just a little, and she holds her breath.

She chances a glance over at Davenport, who’s looking at her with a gentle smile. “No arguments here.”

That clenched, cold feeling in her gut tightens for a moment, and then dissipates all at once as she lets out a long slow breath, emptying her lungs and letting her head lay back, her neck and shoulders loose. She soaks it all in: the sun and the air, and the comforting presence of her family.

Yeah. She really fucking needed this.

They perhaps stay longer than intended. Merle is almost certainly asleep, mouth hanging open and chin to his chest. Barry is faintly snoring, an arm intertwined with Lup’s which probably wasn’t the most comfortable position, while Lup’s other arm lay across Taako’s chest, her leg over Lucretia’s thigh, apparently aiming to sprawl over as many as possible. Magnus is also out like a light, curled up beside her with his jacket for a pillow.

It’s hard to see Taako from where she lies, just the top of his hair and the tip of an ear. Slowly she reaches around Lup to him, accidentally smacking his cheek before finding his shoulder, and he lifts his head in response. So not asleep, then, or not anymore. Good. She doesn’t want to forget him amidst everything else. The truth is that she wouldn’t be here without him. She might exist in this plane, sure, because that’s out of their hands, but she wouldn’t be laying there, surrounded by loved ones. He saved her. It was Taako who came looking for her when she had felt so alone. He brought her back to herself, along with all of them. A bright, golden presence. A wonderful friend. Her brother. Her family.

Against his sun-warm skin, she carefully writes:

Thank you.

His hand finds hers, his long fingers brushing over her knuckles. He also pauses before responding with a simple message that makes her heart skip.

Love you.

“That’s cringe,” she says aloud, like an idiot. Taako lets out a bark of laughter, and she’s holding back her own a little, because it's that or start crying.

“Do I even wanna know?” Lup asks drowsily, creaking one eye open.

“Nah,” Taako says with a long contented sigh. “It’s good.”

“Hmm, yeah.” When Lucretia smiles this time, it’s genuine. “We’re good.”

At the very least, they’re getting better.

#taz balance #lucretia #taako #starblaster #Stolen Century #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #emotional hurt/comfort #angst #bittersweet fluff #aka the only kind I apparently know how to write #might be a bad idea posting the whole thing here but oh well #meant this to be a drabble #On the Deck of the Starblaster

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lynnsfics · 3 years

Text

Make Me

Pairing: Spot Conlon x Reader

Request: Can I get a Spot Conlon x reader with #3 and #21 from the first prompt list please? If it’s not any trouble Prompts: “Who do you think you are? The Queen of England?” and “I’m (First Name) fucking (Last Name)”

Word Count: Approx. 1.6k

TW: mentions of blood, knives

~~~

The morning bell sounded, waking you from your dreams. “Damn that Kelly,” you muttered. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wake you up to get your papers on time. To be fair, he had been waking you up everyday that week and he threatened to stop if you didn’t get more sleep. You didn’t actually expect him to make good on that promise, though.

With a sigh, you decided that if you rushed, you could make it to Weasel’s in time to grab some papes. You just had to hope all your regulars hadn’t gone to someone else already. After getting dressed quickly, you began to head out the door of the lodging house. Unfortunately, you weren’t watching where you were going and smacked straight into someone.

That really ticked you off. “Hey, watch where youse is walking,” you snapped, “some of us got places to be.”

The boy rolled his eyes, “Who d’ya think you are? The Queen of England?”

“No, even better.” you said cooly before introducing yourself.

He crossed his arms, unfazed. “Where’s Kelly, I’ve got a message for him.”

“Do I look like I knows where Kelly is? Not my job to look after him.” When he sighed, clearly annoyed, you relented a bit. “You can wait for him or pass the message along to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.”

“Jus’ tell him that I need to see him. We need to talk about the terms of selling on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

You nodded, “And you are?”

He blinked in surprise, taken aback. Clearly no one ever had the audacity to ask him before. “Ya seriously don’t know me?”

You shook your head, confused. It wasn’t as if you could be expected to memorize everyone’s name. “Sorry, no.”

“I’m Spot fucking Conlon,” he said, his confusion evident in his tone. “The King of Brooklyn? Is any of that ringin’ a bell?”

You felt a chill go down your spine. So this was the famous Spot Conlon, and you just insulted him to his face. Nice one. You’d be lucky if you didn’t get soaked right now. You decided an apology was the way to go in this situation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

He cut you off. “Youse didn’t know? Clearly. Jus’ don’t forget it again, got it?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Next time I see Jack I’ll give him your message,” you stated quickly. “I’d best be off, I don’t want to be the last one out sellin’.” With that you were off, Once you thought you were far enough away, you breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn’t often that you became flustered so easily, but there was something about him that made you feel nervous. You walked up to Weasel’s counter, still seeing a few papes left. “I’ll take twenty papes,” you said to Oscar.

“What’s the magic word?” he questioned.

Pretending to ponder it for a moment, you grinned. “I’m not sure, how about ‘screw off’?” Placing down your coin, you grabbed your stack of papers. Walking about you shook your head. “Magic word,” you chuckled to yourself, “what an idiot.”

Hearing someone call your name, you turned back around. “Watch your back,” Oscar threatened, “the others won’t always be around to protect ya’.”

You rolled your eyes. Once again, a Delancey was making an empty threat. “Sure Oscar, I’m real scared.” Turning, you walked out the gate and into the square. It wasn’t as crowded as usual and you felt a tug of panic.

If you couldn’t sell all your papes today you may not be able to stay at the lodging house for much longer. The city streets were dangerous enough at night, and for a girl it was twice as treacherous.

Taking a quick look at the headline you began to feel hopeful. It was a good one today, thank the Heavens. “Vice President Hobart dead! Power crisis looms!”

It didn’t take long for more than half of your papers to sell. You grinned to yourself, it wouldn't be too hard to finish selling and head home early. Well, as soon as you found Kelly and gave him Spot’s message.

As afternoon rolled around, clouds began to cover the sun. You sighed, praying it wouldn’t rain, or worse, snow. Finally, you sold your last paper, at a higher rate than usual, since you were one of the last newsies still out. Clutching your money, you breathed a sigh of relief. You thankfully had enough to stay at the lodging house for the time being

It was starting to get dark, but you decided to try and find Jack before heading back to the house. He never returned early when it could be avoided, instead wandering the streets coming up with new selling angles.

You began to walk towards the theatre. Even if Jack wasn’t there, Medda may have seen him. A few streets away from the play house, you heard someone call your name. You looked around, but couldn’t see anymore. Shrugging it off as exhaustion, you kept walking. It was only after you heard it again that you stopped.

“Who’s there?” You pulled a small pocket knife out of your bag, hoping any potential attacker would see it and back off.

Two figures stepped forward from a nearby darkened alleyway. Oscar and Morris Delancey. You quickly recalled Oscar’s statement that morning and felt your heart sink in fear. It seems he was right after all.

“I heard youse was disrespecting my brother,” Morris said, “and ya’ see, I can’t allow that.”

Deciding to not wallow in fear, you put up a brave front. “Would you rather I’s insult you, Morris? I’m sure I could come up with somethin’.”

He took a step forward, “Why you little…” Morris swung his fist forward and you ducked down, narrowly missing the shot. In your haste do so, however, you ended up dropping your knife. Oscar shoved you backwards, and you stumbled.

“Shit,” you muttered. You felt your back hit a wall, and you knew you were cornered. A sharp pain shot through your shoulder and you used all your strength to not cry out in pain. This would be the worst moment to show weakness. With a quick motion, you brought your heel down on Morris’ foot. He staggered backward and you moved away from the wall.

As soon as you did, you saw a stone fly through the air, hitting Morris on the forehead. Leaning against the wall, he cussed under his breath. You risked a quick look around, trying to find who it was that saved you. In that moment, Oscar saw his chance.

“You’ll pay for this,” he growled, moving towards you.

“No, she won’t,” you heard a voice say. From out of the shadows came the person you least expected to see. Spot Conlon stood between you and Oscar. “Youse really want to go through with this fight?” he asked with a smirk.

“Now youse both going to pay for this,” he spat. In one fluid motion, he grabbed your knife off the ground. Oscar lunged forward, swinging the blade wildly. It made contact with Spot’s arm and he cussed. Oscar laughed and stepped back. “Told ‘ya.” He tried to attack again, but before he could Spot blocked him, grabbing his arm and twisting it back.

Oscar dropped the knife, and it clattered to the ground. Using his other arm, Spot swung his fist, making contact with Oscar’s face. “Now you and your brother here are going to leave and never bother this girl again. Got it?”

Oscar nodded weakly before taking off. Morris, still recovering from the stone, slowly limped after his brother.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, once the Delancey’s were out of sight.

“I had to do somethin’,” Spot replied modestly. Your gaze shifted to the cut on his arm, and you gasped. It was worse than you thought.

“I can help with your arm,” you said hesitantly, “if you want.” He nodded in response, leaning against the alley wall. Pulling a small roll of bandages out of your bag, you knelt next to him. “It may sting a little,” you warned.

Spot winced as you began bandaging his arm. “Why were they even after ya’ in the first place?”

“I may’ve talked back to them this morning,” you answered, thinking back to the incident.

“Is that a habit of yours? Because you seem t’be quite good at it.”

“Real funny,” you said rolling your eyes. You finished wrapping the bandage. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“It would be better if I didn’t just get stabbed,” he said with a wry laugh.

“To be fair, it was your decision to join the fight,” you replied jokingly.

“Well, to be completely fair, I wouldn’t have made that decision if I hadn’t seen ya’ get hurt.”

“To be truly fair,” you countered, “I was only here to find Kelly to give him your message.”

A look of guilt flashed briefly across his face, but he quickly hid it. “Shut up,” he said with a chuckle.

You smirked. “Make me.” Not even a second later his lips were on yours. After the initial shock, you kissed back. He tangled his fingers in your hair and you smiled into the kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you felt breathless. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you this morning,” he whispered. “But I also wanted to ask, would you,” he paused, “would you want to go out with me sometime?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, yes I would.” With that, he pulled you back in for another soft kiss.

~~~

Requested By: @teddy06

Spot deserves so much more appreciation I swear. Let me know if you want ot be added to my taglist and as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 8.5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: none!

A/N: It took me a while but here’s chapter 8 but from Twyla and Seamus’s POV.

“Where are you going, Finnigan?” Harry asked, quirking a brow at him. Seamus smiled, winking some.

“Launching operation ‘make sure the date goes well’. You didn’t think I was gonna miss out on this did you?” Draco eyed him suspiciously as the vein in his forehead began to throb.

“Twyla set you up to this, didn’t she?” Seamus turned once he got to the doorway, flashing him a smile.

“ ‘Course she did!” Before anyone could protest he slammed the door behind him, instantly being greeted with Twyla standing in front of him. She had an unusually large purse attached to her shoulder, bouncing excitedly as he approached her. Her outfit was fully pink camo aside from her shirt which was a white. He eyed her curiously, snickering some. “So much for blending in.”

“Hey if I’m gonna blend in, I at least want it to be cute! Plus I don’t know how your Prada suit is going to help you blend in Finnigan.” she huffed, patting the side of her bag. “But that’s what these are for.” he looked at her in confusion, beginning the walk to the front of the villa.

“What’s in there?” he asked, attempting to peer into the bag. She clenched it closed, glaring at him.

“I’ll show you in the car. We just have to wait for them to pull off.” Twyla replied, pulling Seamus behind the large pillar on the porch. They both watched as Neville helped (Y/n) into the car before climbing in after her. Once the car was far enough out of view they both clammered to the other car in the driveway. The chauffeur eyed them quizzically.

“Mr.Longbottom didn’t mention his second car being taken out. Left over business Master Finnigan?” he questioned, opening the car door for the two of them. Seamus hummed to his question, closing the door after Twyla climbed in.

“Yeah, yeah something like that. Listen, I need you to follow them to their destination. No questions, got it?” the older man nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat before beginning to drive. After a short while they caught up to the car, watching as the two talked, laughing with each other. Seamus and Twyla both looked at the two intensely, squinting their eyes as if that would make the conversation magically easier for them to hear.

“This is pointless! We should’ve bugged the car.” Twyla exclaimed, flopping back into her seat. She was beyond frustrated. She knew the conversation was going well but she just wished she knew what they were saying. The part of her that felt like the girl’s older sister felt slightly protective of her, especially due to her reserved nature.

“It’s best not to worry about things we can’t change. Anyways, what’s in that bag of yours? You seemed pretty excited about it earlier.” Seamus asked, taking a swig from his flask. Twyla perked up at his words, placing the bag on the seat in between them. Unclasping the button, the contents were revealed.

“Ok, ok so! First off, we’ve got disguises. We definitely are going to need those.” he examined the wigs and mustaches that she placed in his lap. They were clearly great quality and in good condition despite their chaotic encapture in the confines of her purse. He nodded, waiting to see what she’d pull out next. “Then I’ve got these IDs in case, ya know, some legal trouble arises. We have plenty of identities to use.” he gasped at the IDs, eyeing them. They were really believable, not a detail out of place!

“Wow, these are extremely realistic, they look like the real thing! Where’d you get them?” he asked her. She laughed some, stuffing the wigs back into her purse.

“Who said they were fake?” he gawked at the girl as she continued to speak. “What? I found them on the ground in different places we’ve been. Besides, using a few stolen IDs is the least of your concerns! You’ve done far worse your entire time here.” she had a point, so he’d give that to her.

“Signor Finnegan, Singora Dundee, we’ve arrived. Would you like me to wait outside for you two?” he asked, as he opened the door for the two. Seamus slid a large noted bill into the pocket of the man’s suit jacket.

“Just wait around the area. Go explore, Giovani! I’ll call you when I need you.” he said smiling at the man as he pat his shoulder. The man’s eyes widened, smiling brightly as he bowed, tipping his hat at his superior.

“Grazie, Signor!” he thanked him before hopping back into the car. Twyla thanked the man as well as they made their way up the stairs of the restaurant. They watched as Neville had a melt down at the person behind the desk.

“Boss must be feeling nice today. I’ve seen him do far worse to people who question him.” he shrugged, opening the door as the couple began to walk off. “I wonder what the commotion was?”

“Name of Reservation?” that. How could they have forgotten reservations? Of course restaurants this high class were sure to have some sort of reservation system. Seamus wiped his hands on his pants, clearing his throat.

“Uh, Johnson?” he panicked, causing Twyla to hit his side. The girl behind the desk scanned the book before her eyes lit up. “Ah, Signor Johnson! Right this way sir.”

“Nice save.” Twyla whispered to him. However as their waiter lead them one way, Neville’s began to go another. “A-actually can we have a change of tables? We’d like one angled from the one with the view. Signor Johnson here loves to admire the scenery, isn’t that right?” Twyla inquired, watching as Seamus nodded along giving the waiter a hopeful smile. The waiter sighed before smiling back. She giggled some, eyeing Seamus up.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

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

“Man, this bread is amazing! And can you believe this wine is free too?!” Twyla asked, crumbs falling from her mouth as she washed down her bread with another drink of wine. Their table had been positioned perfectly, giving them a dead-on view of the two. They had been observing carefully, awing at the cute kisses they’d share and turning away when silence would grow over them. A few times the two had to stop each other from waltzing over there and doing something about it.

“Who said the wine is free?” he asked, laughing at the girl’s shocked expression.

“Dray will cover it, I’m sure he won’t mind.” she said, shrugging as she poured herself another glass.

“Yeah, he really likes you, ya know? I overheard him gushing about you to Blaise and..” Seamus’s voice began to grow muted as a feeling overcame Twyla. It was one she knew all too well. Ever since she could remember, Twyla had always had a sixth sense for knowing when things were about to happen. It was like intuition times ten. Most of the time the things she’d feel were so specific that she knew instantly but now? She didn’t know what but she knew something was coming.

“Seamus, something’s about to happen right now. I can just sense it.” Seamus tensed at her words, reaching for the holster hidden on him.

“Something like what? Like danger?” he asked, sitting up straight as he began to grow alert, looking carefully around the restaurant.

“No, more like drama….in really cheap perfume.” she said. He went to ask what but was cut off from a scoff to their side.

“It sounds like you may be smelling yourself, no?” a thick, high pitch french voice sounded off. They both groaned in unison. The man reached for his glass, downing the rest of his wine before he stared at Gisele intensely.

“Why are you here, Gisele?” he said, annunciating each of his words. It was clear from his tone and disposition that the last person he wanted to see tonight was her. Especially after the warning he had given her in the museum. Her smile grew wider, resembling one of a horse.

“I was just having a bit of a meal, you know, before my big show tomorrow. Celebrating my success early.” she noticed the empty chairs at their table, a light bulb going off in her head. “Say...Neville wouldn’t happen to be here with you would he? Well what a dumb question that is! Wherever you are he’s sure to be leading in some way.”

“He’s not here with us.” Twyla said, standing up in attempts to intimidate the woman. However she just continued to smile with the same stupid smile on her face.

“I see...so he’s here with someone else?” Twyla froze, mouth agape as she looked at the woman. “Ohh I know what’s going on. He’s here with that decoy and doesn’t even know that the two of you are here.” she looked between Twyla and Seamus, satisfied that she had them figured out. “Well if you wanna keep it that way, I suggest you stay here.” and with that she began to walk towards Neville and (Y/n).

“I say we just go after her.” Seamus blurted, beginning to stand up as Gisele began to converse with them. Twyla’s eyes widened, wrapping her hand around his wrist as she dragged him back down.

“We can’t just go over there! Do you know how upset they’d be if they knew we followed them?” she hissed, causing him to sigh, giving her an annoyed look. “Listen, I know you’re worried. So am I! But we’ve gotta watch how it plays out first! Who knows they may surprise us!” Seamus nodded, sitting back in his chair fully. However, she could tell he still wasn’t satisfied. Looking down at her purse, her eyes lit up.

“Hey! Why don’t we put our disguises on that way if it escalates, we’ll be ready! Besides, I wonder what you’ll look like with ginger hair.” she said, wiggling the ginger wig towards him, poking him in the shoulder with her free hand. He looked between her and the wig before grabbing it, putting it on. After it was situated on his head, she handed him the matching mustache and mutton chops to go along with it. Once he was situated, he turned to ask Twyla a question but was caught off guard. She had on a short black wig, a set of bushy brows and a mustache to match. They sat in silence as they looked at each other before they began to howl with laughter, cutting each other off with wheezing and swear words.

“My dress! Look what you did to me!” they heard a loud annoying voice yell, causing the restaurant to grow quiet, including them. They looked at each other before nodding, beginning to walk over to the table. Twyla waved her hand, a set of matching restaurant uniforms appearing on top of them.

“Is there a problem ma’am? Sir?” Seamus asked, causing the three to turn towards them. He had to stop himself from laughing at the way the vein on his boss’s forehead began to twitch. (Y/n) went to say something but Twyla stopped her, holding a finger up to her on mustached lip.

“Yeah we got a complaint from the head chef. You’re to be escorted out of here immediately. Come along now.” Twyla said, gripping Gisele’s arm. As they began to drag her away, she leaned close to the woman’s ear. “Checkmate.” she whispered, watching as the woman’s eyes grew in size. She began to stutter as the two dragged her out, tossing her to the curb roughly.

“You idiots! You blew your cover, now what are you going to do?” she asked in a gotchaesque tone. Seamus scoffed, beginning to walk to the car. Giovani had returned, a smile on his face and a new pair of sunglasses along with it. He turned once more to look at her.

“We’re done, our job is complete.” he responded, hopping in the car as he waited for Twyla.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” she asked, still on the side of the curb. Giovani moved the car a bit, a stray puddle “accidentally soaking Gisele head to toe. The pair looked at each other smirking before turning their attention back to the model.

“Taking out the trash.”

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