#she probably covered her hair and her face
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Prepared for Anything Part Three
What was with Danny’s luck and fires? He wondered as he searched a warehouse he’d come across for survivors. He’d been flying home(invisibly of course) when a nearby building had exploded. Flames licked at the grease spattered floor and ate at old crates, but the biggest issue was the smoke. It billowed thickly like the smog that filled Gotham’s skies, and impeded even Danny’s enhanced vision. He could taste the ash in the air. He knew there were people here. He heard someone coughing and the sound of fighting going on ahead.
He forged onward, dashing towards the sounds, and the layers of smoke lessened enough for Danny to see what was taking place.
The first thing he noticed was the scuffle. About a dozen of what were clearly henchmen fired guns and grappled with. . .
Danny sighed.
More vigilantes.
One wore purple and had long, blonde hair. The other wore black with gold accents, and a mask covered her face. Both sides of the fight wore rebreathers.
The second thing Danny noticed was the red vigilante with bandoliers across his chest, bound with chains, and hanging by the ceiling. He hung over a vat of boiling oil that was alit with flames.
. . .
. . .
What was this? Some scene from a childrens’ cartoon?
Danny hurried forward, egged on by the lung Red was hacking up, one who very much was not wearing a rebreather.
Danny pointed a finger at the chain suspending the poor vigilante, and shot a small ecto-blast from the tip. The chain broke.
The vigilante screamed as he fell towards the boiling vat and Danny leapt to intercept him mid-air.
“Huu—“ The vigilante huffed at the impact, Danny’s shoes squealing as he landed and skidded to a halt.
The red guy wheezed. “Thanks.”
“Sure. Couldn’t just leave you hanging around, now could I?” Danny grinned.
Tim groaned.
Danny didn’t think the vigilante had room to complain.
Immediately, they were beset by attackers.
“Oop.” Danny dodged a bullet, shifting only the needed inch to avoid it. “Hey! Watch it! I’ve got cargo!”
“Carg—?!” The vigilante tried, only to hack again. He sounded offended. Danny didn’t really care.
A few goons were closing in on them from all sides, and Danny found it highly annoying that they were interfering with his mission to get this damsel in distress outside to fresh air. It wouldn’t take too long to knock ‘em out, but still.
One of the lackeys raised his weapon and Danny prepared to—
Flying in from the left came a foot, clocking the man in the jaw. Danny watched a small and lithe black figure move like she was the manifestation of violent, deadly grace itself. Danny was in awe as she took the man out, gliding and dancing as if it was all she breathed and all she lived. Her movements were efficient and so quick, Danny could barely catch the motions taking out the next three men after. She tore through them like they were nothing. They fell at her feet as if they were insignificant gnats, as if one look was enough from the goddess of death over here to kill them.
She turned to Danny when she’d cleared his immediate attackers, and he stared at her, mouth slightly agape. His heart fluttered.
“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. . .” Danny muttered mostly to himself. He could watch her do that over and over and over again and never get tired of it. It was captivating.
The black vigilante went still for a moment, her eyes seeming to lock with his through her mask, before motioning for him to flee.
“Right.” Danny dashed past her, lugging the red one in a bridal carry. A fireman’s carry would probably be hard on his lungs.
“Wh—at w—s tha—t?!” The red one coughed up. Danny couldn’t tell if he was laughing at him or judging him. Or both.
“Shush.”
Danny blew through the nearest doors of the warehouse to meet fresh air and sucked in a deep breath. The smoke didn’t bother him, but this was still nice. He distanced himself from the warehouse quickly, worried about wasting time and risking this dude’s life. Or health. Danny had no idea how bad the smoke inhalation was. Pretty bad, he was guessing.
Danny laid him down in some alley. Mechanical whirring announced who had arrived. Danny looked up as the purple and black vigilantes dropped down from the roofs.
Danny’s eyes briefly glanced over Purple to rest on Black.
“Oh, hey. That was quick.”
The purple one shrugged. “We were almost done any—where did that come from?”
Danny uncoiled the tube to the oxygen tank and mask, fixing it over the baffled face of Red.
“Huh?” Danny fiddled with the knob on the tank and Red took deep breaths.
“You just have an oxygen tank on you at all times?” The purple one laughed.
“You don’t?” Danny countered. He tried not to smirk as Purple choked on her laugh.
“I was joking!”
Danny shrugged.
“Good job.” Black complimented and Danny’s heart palpitated. Her voice was so soft and gentle and the most melodious thing he’s ever heard.
“Yeah, thanks, I mean, no problem, just passing by, I'm in burning buildings all the time, wasn't any trouble." Danny rambled as he went back to fumbling with the knobs.
"Wait, what?" Red croaked.
Purple took in a long breath, as if hit with some amazing bit of realization.
Danny abruptly stood where he’d been sitting on the ground next to Red.
“Here. These are for you.” Danny thrust his hand out to Black, holding a bouquet of exotic, beautiful flowers, native to the Infinite Realms, and at least six times the size of his head.
Purple nearly seized back. “What the—?! Where are these things coming from?!”
Danny had received a multitude of bouquets for his coronation and he was suddenly very glad that he’d frozen them in time to decorate his keep with. Jazz had insisted it would brighten up the place.
“Ah, well, you never know when you might need a professionally done, extravagant bouquet of exotic wildflowers to present to your rescuer. You were my knight in shining. . .whatever kinda armour that is. . .”
Purple’s jaw went slack. Black seemed to pause before shrugging lightly and looking away, curling a little into herself as if embarrassed. Her body language said she was still happy, though. She carefully took the bouquet from him.
Danny was gonna die again. The butterflies were going to mutate and burst out of his stomach.
“Oh my gosh! Stop flirting over my dying body!” Red interrupted.
Danny spluttered. “I am not—“
“You totally are!!” Purple cackled as if this was the most entertainment she’s had in weeks.
Danny ignored her. “Anyway, can I have your name?” He asked Black.
“Wait. . .”Purple tried to get herself under control. “You don’t know who we are?”
Danny shrugged. “I’m, uh. . .from outta town.”
“Well, that was kinda obvious.” Red said.
“Orphan.” Black gestured to herself.
Danny paused. He blinked. Alright, that was. . .that was some oddly personal information to go straight to, but okay.
“I’m. . .sorry for your loss.”
Purple guffawed and slapped a hand over her mouth. Red hacked up another lung. He was gonna run out soon.
Black shook ever so subtly with her own laughter and Danny nearly melted.
“No. Name.” She gestured to herself. “Orphan.”
“It’s her vigilante name.” Purple was still laughing.
“Ah. . .yes. . .right.” Danny blushed. “My name’s Danny. It’s nice to meet ya’ll.” His words implied he spoke to all of them, but he looked only at Orphan.
“Yeah, I’m lucky you were there to grab me. I don’t know how that chain broke.” Red said from where he’d sat up from the ground. Danny’s lips pursed. He honestly kept forgetting about him.
Purple took a steadying breath, warding off the laughter still treading her words. “We should probably get him some medical attention.”
“Psh, I’m fine.”
“I thought you said you were dying?” Danny asked.
“That was like, ten seconds ago, I’m fine now.”
“Yeah, about as fine as a chain smoker with a drinking problem. Have you heard yourself? It’s like you swallowed a sword and gave it a good swishing around down there.” Purple retorted.
Red scoffed.
Danny backed out of the alley, flashing Orphan a smile before disappearing.
<><><><>
“What happened to all your food?!”
Danny came home to Jason(AKA Red Hood. {The wacky ectoplasm kinda made it obvious. Danny was working on that}) peering into his fridge judgementally as if it was an a affront to his person. “I loaded it up just a couple days ago!”
Danny reached past his friend to grab the orange juice and poured himself a glass. He went to sit at the counter. “I ate it all. Duh.”
“There was a week’s worth in there!” Jason gestured indignantly at the empty fridge, staring at Danny.
Danny took a long sip of his juice, keeping eye contact with Jason all the while. When his thirst was parched, he set the cup down with a quiet clink. He leaned his elbows on the counter to hold his face.
“Obviously not, because I ate it all.”
Jason pinched his nose and sighed before letting the fridge door drift closed. He poured the kettle he must’ve boiled earlier into a prepared mug.
Danny stared down at his half-emptied glass. “I think I’m in love.” He murmured thoughtfully into it.
The tea bag bobbing in Jason’s mug paused, before continuing. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Danny sighed, mournfully. He wondered if Orphan would care if he was half-dead or from another dimension. Would he meet her again? He really, really hoped so. “I met her in a burning building.”
“. . .What?”
“Yeah, what an amazing coincidence, right?”
“That’s not—“
“She was so cool.”
“. . .kaaay?”
How did Danny get her attention? He couldn’t just show up wherever she was vigilante-ing, could he? He didn’t want her to feel like he was stalking her.
Danny shuddered and made a face. Ugh. Ew.
No. He needed to find another way.
A small smile wound it’s way over his lips as an idea came to him.
“What’s her name?” Jason asked.
“Umm, you’ve probably heard of her. She said her name was Orphan.”
Jason choked on his tea.
#dpxdc fanfic#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#orphan#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#Red Robin#tim drake wayne#Dimension Travel#dp x dc au#danny phantom#Spoiler
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Neighbors Extra V
Read Neighbors here | ~2.5k words
From me: based on this ask. Takes place probably in between Part 5 and Extra I
Warnings: a little angsty, a little fluffy, enjoy 💕
It was the stretch of bad weather that did it. Played a trick on his mind. It hurt to think about those weeks without his favorite people. He knew what bad weather could do to people and he knew how it could affect him. It was weird, the night before he rather enjoyed the sound of rain against the window, the slight chill in the air contrasted with the warmth coming off her from the bed. Now it seemed like a curse.
“Harry?” Rory called, hearing the thunder in the middle of the night. It made his heart ache to know Rory called Harry’s name and not for Mumma the way he usually did. Harry rolled out of bed pressing a swift kiss to her forehead despite his negativity settling into the pit of his stomach. He made his way for Rory’s room. He forgot about the frustration he felt about her and the weeks that she chose to separate them. Rory needed him.
“S’matter, lad?” Harry asked sitting on the end of his bed. There was relief in his eyes that was visible in the low light of his nightlight. That relief made Harry’s heart clench. He put his hand on his leg atop the covers and squeezed his shin.
“Is... is Mumma scared?” He asked softly.
Harry tilted his head curiously. “Mummy’s sleeping,” he assured him.
“Oh... um...” Rory was so little looking in his bed. “Mumma gets scared with thunder sometimes,” he explained. “I usually go sleep with her to keep her safe.”
Harry blamed the lateness of the hour for his slow-moving brain cells and not understanding what Rory was trying to tell him faster. “Oh?” He nodded. “I see. Well, do y’want t’come check on her?” He asked standing beside his bed and pulling the covers back.
He nodded eagerly; it was punctuated by a crack of thunder that practically shook the house. His eyes widened with fear while trying to be brave. After his little hospital stay, Harry noted how nervous Rory seemed sometimes—especially when it came to his mum and making sure she wasn’t nervous too. “That was scary,” Harry admitted and scooped Rory into his arms quickly, tucking his head against his shoulder.
“You’re scared of thunder?” He asked incredulously but didn't move his face from Harry's neck.
“Isn’t everyone?” Harry smirked without Rory seeing. “Y'know that Mummy is, me...s'like you’re the bravest one of us."
Rory squirmed a bit in Harry’s arms--like the weight of his phobia and subsequent fake-bravery was too much for him. “I think I’m a little afraid of thunder,” he whispered to Harry. Harry nodded and squeezed him.
“S’okay. S’brave of you t’want t’check on Mummy anyway.”
“I didn’t know if I was allowed to,” he admitted.
“Allowed?” Harry repeated.
“Because Mumma has you now.”
Harry didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the night. Not when he was feeling frustrated with the love of his life’s actions. Not when the weather was souring his mood. Not when Rory felt scared, and he didn’t know how to fix it completely.
“Rory,” Harry sighed stopping outside the bedroom. “Mummy and I are always going t’need you,” he promised. “You don’t have t’change how y’do things because m’here,” he pressed his lips against the little one’s forehead.
"Okay," he nodded.
Harry smiled at him again, ran his hand through his hair comfortingly before he headed back in the bedroom. He knelt on the bed and deposited Rory in the middle. She hadn’t moved. Probably tired from being perfect all day, Harry presumed. Rory nestled into the middle of the bed and Harry smiled softly, feeling more tired, thankfully, than when he woke up. His mind didn’t need to reel with more feelings of frustration before he fell back asleep. “Night, Harry,” Rory whispered.
Harry smiled as he drifted off. “Night Rory.”
*
The rainy night turned into a rainy day. Harry was quiet. She noticed it immediately. When she woke up with the help of her internal clock at six-thirty, she realized Rory’s little face was staring back at her. She blinked in surprise, wondering when he got there. Harry’s hand was resting protectively on Rory’s little rib cage and her heart melted so thoroughly she thought she would cry.
Swallowing the emotion in her throat she snuck out of bed to start breakfast as Rory would surely wake up with the help of his own internal clock in about thirty minutes. The rain and dark clouds made her think of her trip to the hospital in the middle of the night, quickly she shook her head of those thoughts.
As if on cue, Harry and Rory descended the stairs as she poured juice for them. “Hi Mumma!” Rory smiled excitedly. Harry released him and he scurried over to hug her legs. She bent and kissed the top of his head before returning to the scrambled eggs on the stove.
“Hi love bug,” she grinned. “Did you sleep okay?”
Rory glanced back at Harry and nodded. “Harry said I was really brave about the thunder.”
She was surprised she didn’t wake to the sound of it and moreover the sound of Rory’s little worried voice because of it. She pursed her lips and glanced at Harry as well. “Yeah?” She asked quietly.
Harry nodded. He pressed a kiss to her temple and grabbed the three glasses of orange juice to settle on the table. “Rory was braver than I was,” he repeated. “He wanted t’make sure y’were sleeping okay. Because y’get scared in the thunderstorms sometimes.”
Her heart clenched with love for the little one. More for Harry for going along with every little detail and every insecurity Rory shared with him. She smiled and nodded. “Thanks, cutie pie,” she ruffled his hair as he held onto her leg still.
Harry sat at the table. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid much attention to the position, but he didn’t really look up from his phone. He didn’t look up when she said breakfast was almost ready—when he usually hopped up to get plates, silverware, etc. Rory followed over to Harry. Joined him by sitting right on his lap, Harry moving instinctively to hold him as they examined Harry’s phone.
“Honey, can you ask Harry if it’s okay first—he might be doing something for work or—”
“S’fine, kitten,” he mumbled, interrupting her without further explanation.
“It’s highlights from the soccer game,” Rory explained.
Biting her lip, she suddenly felt a bit intrusive. Quietly, she set plates in front of the pair and then ate her own food in near silence—save for the cheers and announcers coming from Harry’s phone. It felt odd to feel left out. For so long it had been her and Rory. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she swore Harry almost seemed... annoyed with her.
After Rory started playing on his own, she would ask. Or maybe when Rory went to sleep tonight.
For now, even if she was a bit anxious about Harry’s coldness toward her, she couldn’t help but adore how sweet Harry and Rory looked at the other end of the table. The same concentrated expression on their faces as they watched his phone screen. Her heart was so full it felt illegal to be that happy. Harry kissed the back of Rory’s head without fanfare, without thinking. His phone propped against the flower vase while he ate his breakfast with one hand.
Just as quietly, she snapped a picture of the pair of them. One to send to her family as well as his for sure.
*
Rory and Harry were nearly inseparable the whole day. It allowed her to get a lot of cleaning and laundry done that had been neglected since Rory couldn’t play in the yard with the unending rainy weather. In the late afternoon, Rory asked that they play a few rounds of Candyland. So, they did. Harry smiled at Rory the whole time and chuckled every time her turn brought her back to the Peppermint Forest when she was almost to the Candy Castle.
It almost felt mean spirited.
But the boys went to play again in Rory's room after Candyland. Harry even got Rory to take a bath without the usual argument that ensued when she did. Their little day spent together right under her nose made her a little jealous—although she wasn’t sure who she was jealous of when she thought about it. They paused to have leftovers for dinner (because it was Saturday, and that was their routine) While they played, she read some of her long-neglected book that was often set to the side for room to play with her son.
“Rory wants you t’say goodnight,” Harry said quietly as he flopped onto the couch grabbing the controller off the coffee table. She blinked, glanced at the clock along the wall of the dining area and shook her head at how rapidly the time had moved.
“It’s eight already?” She asked, mostly to herself. There was no arguing, no ‘one more story,’ not even a good night kiss as had happened many nights before when Harry put Rory to bed.
He nodded anyway, scrolling through movie and show options on Netflix without even looking at her. She eyed him suspiciously the entire time she ascended the stairs to Rory’s room. “Hi Mumma,” he grinned happily. He smelled clean and fresh. His room was tidy (thanks to Harry’s kind reminders as they played, she was sure). Rory was perfect. But she may have been a bit biased.
“Hi baby,” she smiled. “Did you have fun playing with Harry today?” She asked.
He nodded. “We played so much,” it was as if he realized it all on his own and how weird of a day it was to have a playdate right near her without hardly including her.
“You did,” she grinned and kissed his forehead. “I love you. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” She had said it to him since the day they met Harry and he had asked for clarification.
He grinned and rolled over sleepily. “I love you, too, Mumma,” he yawned. She turned his light off, ensuring the nightlight remained on. She closed the door and returned to the living room. Harry was unmoved; legs outstretched on the coffee table.
Harry shifted as she removed her book from the sofa and placed it beside Harry’s feet on the table. He was silent. Her discomfort amplified and she turned to him. “Are you...okay?” She asked. He nodded, still unspeaking. She bit the inside of her lip. “Uh...Harry, it really feels like—”
“It was really unfair,” he mumbled. His gaze was unmoving from the TV but he wasn’t watching.
“What was—”
“You just...stopped talking t’me. Y’didn’t tell me why. Rory had t’come t’me in secret t’invite me t’his game,” he reminded her. “I know why y’did,” he looked at her squarely for the first time all day. “But it hurt. And I never really got t’grieve it because you came back but it hurt,” he repeated. Her chest ached, feeling like he pierced a whole right through it.
“Harry,” she whispered, an apology forming.
He shook his head. “Y’don’t have t’say anything. S’over and m’not...” he sighed. “M’really not mad, kitten. M’not. S’jus’ the crummy weather made me think of it. Playing with Rory all day made me think ‘bout all those weeks I didn’t have with him. S’not fair and s’not anyone’s fault. M’jus... sad.”
Her heart felt shattered. “But—”
“You don’t have t’say anything.”
But she felt like she did. Harry resenting her felt like a very real possibility and it terrified her. “You’ll resent me.”
“Of course I won’t,” he turned to her with such fierceness in his eyes she felt as if the sun had finally broke the cloud barrier after their long weak of rain. “I know why y’did it. But m’sad about it,” he grabbed her hand. “I trust you that it won’t happen again,” he kissed her knuckles. “M’sorry I was cold today. I jus’ never got t’process or tell you how it felt.”
Well, if it was worse than this moment--and she was sure that it wasn’t even a fraction of the anguish and hurt Harry felt at the time--then she didn’t want to ever make him feel that way again. Didn’t want to experience it herself in any manner—even if Harry very much deserved to make her feel the way she made him feel.
“Harry,” she repeated. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. Tongue-tied, confused, and unsure. Things she rarely felt since she had Rory because she couldn't. “I... I don’t know how to—”
“Kitten,” he squeezed her hand. “M’not mad. M’not going t’hold it against you. But I needed to tell you, so I don’t.”
“Harry,” she felt like a broken record.
“Beautiful,” he echoed in the same tone. “M’not mad,” he promised.
She crawled across the couch, curled in his lap and nuzzled against him in a way that a grown woman had no business to do. Tears stung behind her eyes and her breath felt shallow in her lungs. “I was an idiot,” she whispered hoping it would ease the ache, the fear she felt of losing Harry when she had only started to have him.
“Oh, kitten,” he cooed. “Y’might be the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met,” he assured her running his hand up and down her back. “I was mean today. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You should have punched me in the face.”
He chuckled. “Never in a billion years, love,” he brushed her hair out of her face. “You didn’t need t’do it, but I get it.”
“I didn’t. I shouldn’t have. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
“M’telling you, you don’t need to. I won’t behave poorly like I did today again.”
Her heart felt so broken--she was afraid to speak. Worried it would just come out in a mess of sobs that Harry would unfairly have to comfort. “I can’t even believe you’re apologizing for your behavior. It was my own doing.”
“Angel,” he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose. “You did what you thought was best as a mum. M’never going t’fault you for that; just...” he smiled and shook his head. “Tell me beforehand next time, yeah?”
She snorted. “I won’t ever let there be a next time,” she vowed. He winked at her, cupped her face with his hands that she missed gently caressing her and touching her in between playing with Rory, all day long. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers to seal the promise.
--
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Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!
So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.
Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.
But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.
Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.
I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.
Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.
+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.
You're really talented!! <3
by the sun, by the moon
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: request above! | 4.8k
includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops
warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack
note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)
Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.
“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.
You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”
Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”
“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”
“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.
—☽—
For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.
Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.
Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.
Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.
Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.
He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.
Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.
The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.
“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.
She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”
He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”
“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.
At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.
That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.
Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.
Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.
Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.
Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.
A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.
Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.
She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.
It took six years for her to sleep again.
—☽—
The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.
“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”
The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.
“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.
Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.
Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.
Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.
Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.
With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.
“Well, look who decided to show up!”
Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.
Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.
The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”
Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.
The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”
“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.
You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.
Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.
“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.
Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”
—☽—
Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.
Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.
“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”
“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.
“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.
Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.
You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”
“Bu-”
“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.
It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?
Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.
—☽—
By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.
You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.
“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.
“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.
You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”
This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”
“What?”
Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.
“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.
“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”
Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”
“No.”
“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.
“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.
You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.
“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”
Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.
When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”
Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”
“Baby-”
“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”
Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.
Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”
“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.
“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”
“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.
You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.
Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.
“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.
Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”
You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.
—☽—
Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.
When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.
Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.
Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.
Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”
Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.
You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”
She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”
“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.
In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you more,” you whisper back.
It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.
note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3
as always, feedback appreciated <3
#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti#lisa ann walter#abbott elementary#lgbtq fanfiction#lesbian#lgbtq
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two of them - l.n - part2
Warnings: Fluff!
Pairing: Lando Norris x verstappen!fem!reader
Summary: Lando and Y/N cross the no-no line.
@firelily-mimi
part one
There was one thing about the Verstappen family - that wasn’t necessarily always a good thing - you guys loved to take risks. And when given the chance? You’d go straight for it. So of course, when Lando, your brother’s opponent, asked you to go out, you were definitely saying yes. Partly because he was hot as shit.
Landinho - come out that little room of urs x
y/n - I can’ttttt, Max is yapping again 😭😭
Landinho - u used the excuse?
y/n - yeah gp’s on board xxx
Landinho - good girl. gotta run, meet where I said x
‘Good girl’. He probably didn’t even mean it to be that important, but they sent your heart racing. As for Lando - he was just happy his risk had worked, and that you didn’t think he was pathetic. As soon as your clock hit half past, you excused yourself from Max, rushing back to your apartment and choosing an outfit. You had half an hour to be at place Lando had said to be, and you were ever so slightly late. You’d chosen a pretty, short white dress and matching heels, a bow in your hair to finish off the look.
You followed the directions as closely as you could - and found yourself standing outside a small shop. In the busy streets of Monaco, surrounding by people bustling around, celebrities everywhere, and no one was even looking at the shop. It was empty except from an old lady working at cashier, counting the money. Her eyes locked on yours as a smile jumped to her face. “Hello dear. Y/N, is it?” her voice was kind as you nodded and smiled.
“Young Norris was certainly right about your beauty,” she said, gesturing for you to follow her as you blushed. “Right this way, my darling,”. You stammered a thank you for the compliment as you walked in. “Toward the back here,” she pulled the blinds down, the sunset rays peeking through the banded blinds. You found yourself in the back room of the shop, your eyes immediately locking on Lando. He had his hood up, covering his hat, so you could see the front. He was wearing an off-white hoodie with matching joggers and white trainers, a grin on his face as he put his phone down.
“Thought you weren’t coming,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he pulled his hood down. “Sorry about all this,” he gestured vaguely as you laughed, “the media and all,”. “It’s fine, Lando,” you smiled, leaning forwards and pressing your lips gently against his cheek, leaving a red flush at the shock on his face. “This is Annie,” he acknowledged the lady, “she owns this place and is a good friend of mine,”. You smiled at her as she laughed.
“She seems like a lovely girl, get her, Lando,” she winked at the driver as he blushed and groaned. Lando pulled out your chair, letting you sit down as you thanked him, placing your bag on the other chair as he sat opposite you. “D’you want anything specific, or…?” he trailed off,” handing you the menu. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you smiled shyly. “There’s some good stuff on there, take a look,” he promoted you. “It’s fine, really, whatever you’re having’s fine,” you shrugged it off. “I hate spice, so,” he laughed, “if you like it, sorry,”. You shook it off - you were the same.
“Two sweet berry waffles for the lovebirds,” Annie said, coming in as you both attempted to correct it to ‘just friends’. “Don’t lie, you two,” she waved her hand impertinently, “he’s quite the looker, Y/N,”. You covered your face as Lando rolled his eyes. “I’ll leave you to it,” she chuckled as she laid the plates down. “You’ve got taste then?” you asked, gasping at the food in front of you. “‘s why I took you out instead of any other driver,” he smirked, making you flush.
“Hardly think you would’ve taken Alex or George out,” you scoffed, trying to play it off as you scooped the food into your mouth. “Wouldn’t be as romantic,” he hummed absent-mindedly, watching your reaction. “Wouldn’t be as good of a sight to look up,” you said smugly. “That’s very true,” he teased as you flicked his arm. “You tease,” you rolled your eyes. “Well, what can I say? If it wasn’t George or Alex, I wouldn’t do this…” he leaned forwards, pressing his lips against yours.
At first, you gasped, in shock of his sudden move, before bleeding into the kiss, pressing your tongue against his lips as his hand jumped to your cheek, pulling you in more as you hummed against his neediness. “Sorry, wanted to do that for a while,” he hummed, breaking apart, “you taste like waffle,”. You raised an eyebrow, “Wonder why?”.
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I had a thought for a creator but they didn't believe they were the creator and could influence others into believing it too.
The two characters are Sara kujou and yae miko
@mastadon64 here you go!
Gaslight, Gatekeep, Godboss - Kujou Sara and Yae Miko
Kujou Sara
Cw: Sexual innuendos
-Honestly, waking up in Teyvat, you had a hard time convincing yourself you weren’t dreaming
-(It took you tumbling down a hill and slamming into a particularly sharp rock to realize it was not a dream. Also, ow)
-(You ignored the way your blood was golden. You were pretty sure you’d never seen the Genshin characters bleed anyways. It was probably just censoring. Totally.)
-Some way or another, you ended up in Inazuma
-Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting
-Most of the creatures were pretty chill, and as long as you avoided the people, you didn’t get in much trouble
-And then you kicked a Tenryou commission officer in the face and got arrested
-You know, jail wasn’t as bad as you expected either!
-Your cellmates weren’t too bad either- one of them asked you if you were god, which was weird, because you didn’t look anything like the Shogun, but you gave him a stick of dango and he shut up
-(You might not have been a god, but the fact that you managed to keep your inventory from the game was the closest thing to a divine blessing that you could imagine. Who needs a gnosis when you have your own pocket dimension?)
-It’s about half an hour before you’re taken from your cell for questioning
-You walk into a small interrogation room, shock igniting in your chest as you spot Kujou Sara
-Wasn’t she important?
-Was kicking that guy in the face really such a grave offense?
-“Are you the Creator God?” She asks, deathly serious
-Why did people keep asking you this???
-You’re pretty sure you don’t look too godly, garbed in stolen clothes that you’re ninety percent sure you put on wrong, a fading bite mark on your arm from when you tried to pet a rifthound, leaves in your hair. Honestly, you looked pretty disheveled, and…
-“Is that your way of saying you think I’m hot? Like… godly or whatever?”
-Considering the way the Tengu’s face turns a vibrant red, you’re either very right, or very wrong
-It’d be funnier if you were right though, so you press on
-“I mean, not that I’m not into it, but I’m feeling kinda iffy about the power dynamic here- prisoner and cop is a cute trope and all, but not all that smart in real life, I mean I get it if it’s a kink or whatever, I know handcuffs are attractive, but as of right now it’s immoral-”
-“Shut up. Please.” Sara mumbled, covering her red face with her hand. Her hair has more volume than usual, tiny sparks of static dancing between the strands
-“… I mean after I get out of prison I’d totally be down to go on a date, and if you feed me well enough I might even let you handcuff me.” You add.
-The silence in the room is heavy
-“Get out.”
-“Yes ma’am. Hm. No. Yes Mommy? Yes Master-“
-You’re cut off by an electrically charged arrow striking the wall beside your head.
-“Out.”
-“Okay!”
-You’re released from prison three days later, now with a whole gaggle of new friends from criminals
-(You ignored the fact that some of them made really important sounding speeches swearing their fealty to you. Also the small shrine they were building in your honor. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist)
-You were surprised that as soon as you left, you were met with a glaring Kujou Sara, who takes your hand in her own
-“Am I being arrested again?”
-“… I’m going to take you on a date. And then I’m going to handcuff you.”
-“Yes Mommy!”
-“I Will Shoot You Again.”
Yae Miko
-You had to admit, stumbling upon a small shrine that seemed to be dedicated to your doppelgänger was creepy
-But you had also just been Isekaied to video game land, so you were pretty adaptable at the moment.
-Or high on adrenaline.
-You pick up one of the Sunsiettas from the shrine, biting down and relaxing, until-
-“Your excellency?!” A voice squeaks, and looking up you see a very frazzled shrine maiden staring at you.
-“Uh. No?” You say, swallowing the Sunsietta.
-The shrine maiden starts sobbing. “Your excellency!”
-“Oh- no- I’m- uh- I’m like you? You know? I’m uh… a messiah? Priest? Prophet? Whatever gets you to stop crying?” You awkwardly pat her head.
-“You- you’re the Creators chosen one?” She blubbers.
-“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Stop crying.”
-“CHOSEN ONE!” And she’s crying again
-After a lot of crying, you’re led to the Grand Narukami shrine, where you’re introduced to the head shrine maiden as the chosen one
-“… Are you sure she’s not just the creator?”
-“You flatter me. I’m just gods favoritist and most specialist little princess.”
-The Kitsune likes this. Perhaps too much, but we’ll let her have her fun
-And thus, the war to get you to admit that you’re the Creator begins, hidden under the guise of her introducing you to chosen one duties
-She takes you on a pilgrimage all across Inazuma first, going to the most dangerous places possible just to put you in danger and save you at the last second, disappointed that you never use godly powers to save (read: reveal) yourself
-She meditates with you, and paints obscure markings on your face when you fall asleep, which you have to pass off as messages from the creator
-She takes you to meet the Shogun, but after leaving you alone for five minutes, returns to you teaching her poker and robbing her blind. You cited divine luck and she pretended she didn’t notice the cards stuffed inside your sleeve
-It ends pretty anticlimactically, actually
-She’s introducing you to the local foxes, when you trip over a rock and face plant into the floor
-And get a nose bleed
-Miko can’t help but doubling over in laughter at the sight of your pout as golden blood drips down your face
-“And how are you explaining this one, Oh revered Chosen One?”
-“Genetic condition.”
-The laughter doubles
#genshin sagau#sagau#sagau x reader#sagau genshin#self aware genshin impact au#genshin impact sagau#sagau cult au#sagau Kujou Sara#Sagau Yae Miko#I got a bit distracted with Sara and didn’t add too much creator stuff#but I still like it#I’m incapable of writing the creator as normal because I am not normal#the creator is an agent of chaos and we love them for it#RIP random shrine maiden she’s probably dehydrated now from all the crying#honestly to properly acclimate to a whole new world you’ve gotta be at least a bit insane
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Little Dove
Part 3
a:n This is just full-on fluff and also my first attempt at something a little heated which probably sucks. If anyone wants to write smut for me pls lmk your girl is struggling. Also warning this is not proofread AT ALL.
Masterlist Link
Summary: To forgive you have to be strong, but all y/n needed was love before her last piece of resolve crumbled for the man she found herself so in love with.
Word Count - 4782
The house was enveloped in an unsettling stillness, a heavy silence that seemed to permeate every room. The only sound that pierced the quiet was the steady drumming of water from the bathroom, where steam billowed out from behind the shower curtain like a ghostly veil.
Inside the shower, Y/N stood motionless, her eyes closed as the scalding water cascaded over her skin, enveloping her in its comforting warmth. The heat of the water mixed with the salt of her tears, creating dark rivulets of melted makeup that swirled down the drain in a hypnotic dance.
Lost in her thoughts, Y/N didn't hear the soft creak of the bathroom door opening, nor the rustle of clothing being discarded on the tiled floor. It wasn't until the sudden yank of the shower curtain that she was jolted from her reverie, her eyes flying open in alarm as she instinctively reached for a towel to cover herself.
But instead of an intruder, she found herself staring into the intense, stormy eyes of Quinn. He stood before her, his chest heaving with barely contained emotion, his hair already damp from the steam that filled the room.
Without a word, he stepped into the shower behind her, the heat of his skin pressing against her back as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N tensed for a moment, her heart racing at the unexpected intimacy of his touch.
But as Quinn's fingers splayed across her stomach, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on her skin, she felt herself melting into his embrace.
A deep, shuddering sigh escaped Quinn's lips, the warmth of his breath tickling the sensitive skin of Y/N's neck. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I should've told you how I felt. I waited too long, and now things between us aren't okay."
She shook her head, droplets of water flying from her hair as she turned to face him within the circle of his arms.
"I was happy having you here like this," she whispered, her voice trembling as she met his gaze. "But I won't keep waiting for you to be ready to love me."
Quinn's eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features at the hurt he heard in her voice. He raised a hand to her face, his fingers gently brushing away the strands of wet hair that clung to her cheeks.
"You don't have to wait anymore," he said earnestly, his voice low and filled with conviction. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his words. She searched his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but found only a raw, unguarded vulnerability that made her own eyes sting with fresh tears.
Quinn leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as the water continued to beat down on them, steam rising in lazy tendrils around their bodies.
"I don’t want to be with anyone else, Y/N," he whispered, his lips brushing against hers with each word. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say it but I just want to be with you. I’m ready to make things work with us."
…
In the soft, ethereal light of dawn, Y/N stirred from her slumber, the gentle rustling of sheets accompanying her movements as she turned over in the bed. The comforter, a whisper of silk and down, slipped from her arms like a lover's caress as she sat up.
Beside her, Quinn's sleeping form lay still, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breath. At the sudden shift in weight, he groaned, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to emanate from deep within his chest.
His eyelids fluttered, fighting against the pull of consciousness, before finally blinking open to reveal eyes still hazy with the remnants of sleep.
Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his features softened by the golden glow that filtered through the curtains. In that moment, she knew with a certainty that burned bright and fierce within her chest that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.
If Quinn asked her to move mountains, she would find a way to reshape the very earth beneath their feet.
As if sensing her thoughts, Quinn's lips curled into a slow, lazy smile. A quiet laugh escaped him, the sound rough and honey-sweet in the stillness of the morning. "Stop staring at me," he mumbled, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep.
With a tender touch, he reached out to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen across Y/N's face, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek. The simple gesture held a world of meaning, a silent promise of the love and devotion that flowed between them like a river, deep and endless.
Y/N leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the warmth of his skin against hers. In that moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist, the only reality the cocoon of their bed and the love that enveloped them like a second skin.
She thought of all the moments that had led them to this point, the trials and heartaches they had endured to find each other. But as she looked into Quinn's eyes, she saw a future stretching out before them, a path illuminated by the light of their love.
With a contented sigh, Y/N lay back down, her head coming to rest on Quinn's chest. She listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the sound a soothing lullaby that seemed to whisper a secret language only they could understand.
Quinn's arms encircled her, holding her close as if he never wanted to let her go.
The morning light continued to dance across their skin, painting them in shades of gold and amber. Quinn's eyes sparkled with a sudden idea. "Hey," he said, his voice still slightly raspy from sleep, "why don't we do something fun today? Just the two of us."
Y/N propped herself up on her elbow, her curiosity piqued. "What did you have in mind?"
Quinn's brow furrowed in thought for a moment before his face lit up with excitement. "I know! We could go horseback riding. Or maybe I could teach you how to ice skate. There's nothing more romantic than gliding across the ice together, hand in hand."
Y/N's heart swelled at the thought, a giddy excitement bubbling up inside her. "I love both of those ideas," she said, a wide grin spreading across her face.
"Let's do it." they both climbed out of bed, Quinn headed to the bathroom to freshen up, Y/N padded into the kitchen, her bare feet cool against the tile floor.
She filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove, the soft click of the burner a comforting sound in the quiet of the morning. As she waited for the water to boil, she busied herself with preparing Quinn's favorite tea, measuring out the loose leaves with care and arranging his mug just the way he liked it.
Lost in her task, Y/N didn't hear Quinn enter the kitchen until she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple.
"You're too good to me," he murmured, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder as he watched her work.
Y/N turned in his arms, her hands sliding up his chest to loop around his neck. "You deserve nothing less," she said softly, her eyes shining with love and adoration.
As they stood there, swaying gently in the middle of the kitchen, Quinn's expression grew thoughtful. "You know," he said, his voice taking on a wistful tone, "growing up, it was always just me and my younger brothers, Jack and Luke. We were inseparable."
Y/N's heart warmed at the fondness in his voice, the love he clearly held for his siblings. "Tell me about them," she urged gently, her fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
Quinn's eyes took on a faraway look as he lost himself in memories. "Jack was always the mischievous one, always getting us into trouble with his crazy schemes. And Luke, he was the sensitive one, the peacemaker who always knew just what to say to make everything better."
Y/N listened intently, captivated by the snippets of Quinn's past, the pieces of himself he was entrusting to her. She could picture them in her mind's eye, three young boys with the same sparkling eyes and infectious grins, their laughter echoing through the halls of their childhood home.
But as Quinn continued to speak, his voice grew tinged with sadness. "I miss them," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I hardly get to see them anymore, except for a few weeks in the summer when we all manage to get together."
Y/N's heart ached for him, for the longing she heard in his voice. She cupped his face in her hands, gently tilting his chin up until his eyes met hers. "Hey," she said softly, her thumb brushing across his cheekbone, "why don't we plan a trip to visit them?”
Quinn's eyes widened in surprise, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Really? You'd want to do that?"
Y/N nodded, her own smile bright and earnest. "Of course I would. They're a part of you, Quinn, and I want to know every part of you."
With a sudden, desperate need to show her the depth of his feelings, Quinn surged forward, his hands cupping Y/N's face with a tenderness that belied the urgency of his movements.
His lips found hers, the contact electric and all-consuming, a kiss that seemed to hold within it all the words he had never been able to say.
Y/N melted into his embrace, her own hands coming up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn't bear even the slightest distance between them. Their lips moved together in a dance of passion and devotion, each brush of skin against skin a silent promise of forever.
Quinn poured every ounce of his love into the kiss, his touch reverent and worshipful as he memorized the feel of her in his arms. He tried to convey with his actions what he couldn't find the words to express, the sheer magnitude of his feelings for her, the way she had become the very air he breathed.
Y/N responded in kind, her own love for him evident in the way she clung to him, her body molding perfectly to his as if they had been crafted from the same star-strewn clay.
She kissed him back with a fervor that stole the breath from his lungs, her lips parting in silent invitation as she welcomed him into the very heart of her.
Quinn lost himself in the taste of her, the scent of her skin, the soft sighs that escaped her lips as he trailed kisses along the column of her throat.
It was a kiss that spoke of forever, of two souls finally finding their way home to each other after a lifetime of searching.
When they finally broke apart, their chests heaving and their eyes glazed with the heady rush of desire, Quinn rested his forehead against Y/N's, his breath mingling with hers in the scant space between their lips.
The kettle began to whistle, the shrill sound breaking through the tender moment. Y/N turned back to the stove, pouring the boiling water over the tea leaves, and watching as the liquid bloomed with rich, earthy colors.
She handed Quinn his mug, the steam curling invitingly from its surface, and together they settled at the kitchen island.
…
The ice rink was a glittering expanse of white, the soft scrape of blades against the frozen surface mingling with the laughter and chatter of the other skaters.
Y/N clung to the side of the rink, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing, her legs wobbling unsteadily beneath her.
Quinn glided up beside her, his movements graceful and effortless, a stark contrast to Y/N's unsteady shuffling. He bit back a grin at the look of intense concentration on her face, the way her brow furrowed and her tongue poked out slightly as she focused on keeping her balance.
"Okay, now move your left foot towards me," he instructed, his voice gentle and encouraging.
Y/N shot him a skeptical look, her eyes narrowing as she caught the hint of amusement in his tone. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Hockey Star," she grumbled, her words laced with a playful sarcasm. "We can't all be born with blades attached to our feet."
Quinn let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and rich in the crisp air of the rink. "Stop laughing at me, it isn't funny," Y/N whined, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Quinn said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise I'm not laughing at you. I just find your determination incredibly adorable."
Y/N's cheeks flushed pink at his words, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her best efforts to maintain her pretend annoyance. "Flattery will get you nowhere, mister," she said, wagging a finger at him.
Quinn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on, you've got to admit this is fun. And just think, by the end of the day, you'll be skating circles around me."
Y/N snorted, the sound decidedly unladylike. "Yeah, right. The only circles I'll be making are the ones my butt leaves on the ice when I inevitably fall."
Quinn laughed outright at that, the force of his amusement causing him to wobble slightly on his skates. Y/N's eyes widened in alarm, her hand shooting out to grab his arm, steadying him even as she struggled to keep her own balance.
"Whoa there, hotshot," she said, her voice teasing. "Looks like I'm not the only one who needs a lesson or two."
Quinn's eyes softened, his gaze locked on the point where her hand rested on his arm. "Maybe you're right," he said, his voice low and filled with a sudden intensity.
"Maybe we should forget about the skating and find something else to do. Something that involves a little less clothing and a lot more body heat."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat at the implication behind his words. She swallowed hard, her gaze darting to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. "I thought you'd never ask," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.
But just as Quinn leaned in, his intentions clear, Y/N's foot slipped on the ice, sending her sprawling backwards with a yelp of surprise. Quinn's arms shot out, catching her just before she hit the ground, his laughter ringing out across the rink as he pulled her close.
"Looks like we'll have to save that particular lesson for later," he said, his breath warm against her ear. "For now, let's focus on getting you comfortable on the ice."
Y/N groaned, her head falling forward to rest on his chest. "Fine," she said, her voice muffled by his jacket. "But you owe me a hot chocolate after this. And maybe a foot rub."
Quinn grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Anything for you, my love. Anything for you."
…
Y/N and Quinn glided around the rink, their hands intertwined and their laughter echoing off the ice, Y/N couldn't help but notice the attention Quinn was attracting from the other skaters. A group of girls, all long legs and perfect hair, kept skating by them, their eyes locked on Quinn's handsome face and athletic frame.
One of the girls, a blonde with a dazzling smile, broke away from the group and skated up beside them, her movements graceful and assured. "Hey there," she said, her voice low and flirtatious. "I couldn't help but notice your technique. You're really good on the ice."
Quinn smiled politely, but Y/N could see the discomfort in his eyes. "Thanks," he said, his voice neutral. "I play hockey, so I spend a lot of time on skates."
The girl's eyes widened, her interest clearly piqued. "Hockey, huh? That's so cool. I love a man who knows how to handle a stick."
Y/N's jaw clenched, her grip on Quinn's hand tightening involuntarily. She knew the girl was just flirting, but the blatant innuendo made her skin crawl.
Quinn, sensing Y/N's discomfort, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks, but I'm actually here with my girlfriend," he said, his voice firm but polite. "If you'll excuse us, we'd like to get back to our skate."
The girl's smile faltered, her gaze darting to Y/N as if noticing her for the first time. "Oh, of course," she said, her voice slightly strained. "Sorry to interrupt."
With that, she skated away, rejoining her group of friends who were still watching Quinn with undisguised interest. Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as they continued their circuit around the rink.
"I'm sorry about that," Quinn said, his voice low and apologetic. "Those girls are just puck bunnies. They're always hanging around the rink, trying to get the attention of the players."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Puck bunnies? Is that what you call them?"
Quinn chuckled, the sound warm and rich in the cool air of the rink. "Yeah, it's a hockey term. They're like groupies, but for hockey players instead of musicians."
Y/N shook her head, a rueful laugh escaping her lips. "Well, I guess I can't blame them. You are pretty irresistible, after all."
Quinn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, is that so? And here I thought you were just with me for my skating lessons."
Y/N laughed outright at that, the sound bright and joyful in the crisp air. "Well, that's definitely a perk," she teased, bumping her hip against his. "But I guess your rugged good looks and charming personality don't hurt either."
Quinn's gaze softened, his hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I get to be with the most beautiful, amazing woman in the world."
Y/N's heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his gaze making her feel like the most cherished person in the world. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, the taste of him warm and familiar on her tongue.
…
Y/N pushed open the front door of her apartment, the warmth of the interior a welcome respite from the chill of the ice rink. She stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion of their skating adventure. Quinn followed close behind, his presence a solid, comforting warmth at her back.
As Quinn shut the door behind them, Y/N couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation run through her body. The air between them seemed to crackle with electricity, the tension that had been building all day finally reaching a boiling point.
She walked towards the bedroom, her steps slow and deliberate, acutely aware of Quinn's presence behind her. She could feel his gaze on her, the weight of his desire a tangible thing in the stillness of the apartment.
Just as she reached the threshold of the bedroom, Y/N turned to look at Quinn over her shoulder, a coy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. But the words died on her lips as she caught sight of his expression, the raw hunger in his eyes stealing the breath from her lungs.
In two quick strides, Quinn closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to cup her face as he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into his embrace, her own hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she opened to him, welcoming the slide of his tongue against her own.
Her fingers danced below his stomach, softly caressing the skin before tugging his waistband forward. Her hand sneaks into his boxers finding his hard length, hot and dripping. She squeezed the base leaving Quinn to do nothing but groan.
Y/N gasped as Quinn's mouth found the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin and sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine.
She arched into him, her fingers pulling harder, holding him close to her body as he trailed a path of open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat.
When her hand came up to tangle in the curls of his hair, something snapped in him. Strong hands gripped her hips, tight enough to bruise the skin even through the fabric of her jeans.
They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, the softness of the mattress a welcome contrast to the hardness of Quinn's body above her. Y/N's hands found the waistband of his jeans, her fingers fumbling with the button in her haste to feel his skin against her own.
Quinn groaned, his hips rocking against hers, the friction delicious and maddening all at once. "God, Y/N," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "You have no idea how you drive me crazy."
Y/N smiled, a wicked gleam in her eye as she leaned up to capture his lips once more. "Then show me," she whispered.
And with a growl of need, Quinn pulled her smaller form below him, her knees on either side of his hips. Quinn left a trail of love bites down to the line of her pants where he struggled to get the tight jeans off her thighs.
The feeling of him moving against her and around her had her eyes fluttering closed. They moved together in a dance as old as time itself, their bodies perfectly in sync, their hearts beating as one. Quinn exhaled, leaning back to tug down his briefs.
Her core throbs when he wraps his long fingers around himself, the sigh of relief he lets out as he touches himself makes her squirm from her position under him.
Adjusting his weight, he rested lightly on her and heavily on the elbows that were now on either side of her head. He tucked his head into her neck as they he lined himself up, using one hand to push himself inside of her.
y/n gasps at the intrusion, the feeling of her nails digging into his back hard enough to draw blood.
In the afterglow, as they lay tangled together beneath the sheets, their skin slick with sweat and their chests heaving with the force of their release, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the love she felt for the man in her arms.
Quinn was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had ever needed, and she knew that she would spend the rest of her life loving him with every fiber of her being.
As if sensing her thoughts, Quinn pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her waist as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with wonder. "More than anything in this world."
Y/N smiled, her heart so full she thought it might burst. "I love you too," she whispered, her words a promise and a vow all at once. "Always and forever."
…
Y/N sat at her desk, staring at the email that had just arrived in her inbox. The subject line read "Job Offer - Senior Marketing Manager," and as she scanned the contents of the message, her heart began to race.
"What?" she whispered to herself. "They actually chose me?"
With trembling hands, Y/N clicked on the email, her eyes scanning the contents of the message. As she read through the details of the offer, her excitement grew, a smile spreading across her face. "holy fucking shit," she muttered, her mind already racing with the possibilities.
The prestigious marketing firm she had interviewed with weeks ago was offering her a position that perfectly aligned with her skills and a chance to leave her parents’ miserable company.
However, there was one significant caveat: the job was located in another city, far from her current life and the comfort of her family's business.
Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling with the implications of accepting the offer. She knew that taking this job would mean charting her own path, changing her relationship with Quinn.
She knew that he would be supportive and encouraging, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness about how this change might impact their relationship. They had grown so close, and the idea of starting a new chapter in a different city without him by her side was daunting.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N resolved to discuss the offer with her parents before making any final decisions. She hoped that they would understand her desire for growth and independence, and that they would support her in this exciting new venture.
Y/N stood up from her desk and made her way to her father's office. She knocked on the door softly, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response.
"Come in," Derek's voice called out from behind the closed door.
Y/N entered the office, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she approached her father's desk. Derek looked up from his work, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in his daughter's serious expression.
"Dad, I need to talk to you about something important," Y/N began, her voice steady despite the nervousness that fluttered in her stomach. "I've been offered a job at a marketing firm in another city, and I'm considering accepting it."
As Y/N shared the news of the job offer with her father, Derek's expression shifted from one of mild concern to intense disappointment and anger. His brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched tightly as he processed the information.
"You can't be serious, Y/N," Derek said, his voice low and filled with disapproval. "After everything we've done for you, after all the time and resources we've invested in your career, you're just going to throw it all away?"
Y/N flinched at her father's harsh tone, but she stood her ground. "Dad, this isn't about being ungrateful. This is about my future, my dreams. I have the opportunity to build a career that truly fulfills me, and I can't just ignore that."
Derek scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fulfills you? What about your commitment to this family, to our business? We've been grooming you to take over, to carry on our legacy. And now you're telling me you want to abandon all of that for some job in another city?"
Y/N could feel her frustration growing, but she tried to remain calm. "I'm not abandoning anything, Dad. I'm trying to create my own path, to find my own success. Why can't you understand that?"
Derek's face reddened, his anger boiling over. "Understand? What I understand is that you're being selfish and disloyal. You're not ready for a change like this, Y/N. You don't have what it takes to make it on your own. Mark my words, you'll come crawling back when things don't work out, begging for your old job back."
Tears stung Y/N's eyes at her father's belittling words, but she refused to let them fall. She had worked too hard and come too far to let his negativity tear her down.
"You're wrong, Dad," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I am ready for this, and I will make it work. I'm sorry if you can't see that, but I won't let your doubts hold me back."
Derek's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward in his chair, his gaze intense and unyielding. "We'll see about that. In the meantime, I expect you to invite Quinn over for dinner on Sunday. And before you even think about arguing, know that this isn't a request. It's a demand."
Y/N's stomach churned at the thought of subjecting Quinn to her father's scrutiny and control, but she knew she had no choice. With a curt nod, she turned and left the office, her heart heavy with the weight of her father's disappointment and the challenges that lay ahead.
As she walked back to her own office, Y/N pulled out her phone and began to compose a text to Quinn.
…
Tag List <3
@jamieeboulos, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691 , @njdkatie
@dancerbailey3, @alwaysclassyeagle, @snailss
#fluff#angst#new writers on tumblr#masterlist#x reader#quinn hughes masterlist#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#quinn hughes smut#vancouver canucks#hughes brothers#qh43#jack hughes#canucks hockey#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes x oc#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes x sister!reader#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes blurb
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Bodyguard (2)
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen
Thankfully the pair managed to watch the film in relative peace.
Mapi complained that it was too predictable, so Ingrid became the defender of rom-coms, reminding her that they weren’t meant to be works of art. Mapi just huffed and watched the rest of the film with a scowl on her face, much to Ingrid’s amusement.
Despite it not being too late in the night, everyone was shattered by the end of the film. It had been an early start for the flight, and the fatigue was slowly catching up with them. Steven nearly dozed off in his armchair, earning him some light-hearted teasing from the rest about his ability to do his job. He brushed them off and went to bed, and everyone else slowly peeled off until Ingrid was the last one left. After three successive yawns, she admitted defeat and went upstairs, quickly completing her skincare routine and changing into her pyjamas, which only consisted of an old tank top and a pair of shorts that only grazed the bottom of her ass. She assumed no one would be seeing her in her nightwear, so she decided to pick comfort over style, armed with the knowledge that even with air-conditioning, Spanish nights were hot.
Just as she was about to turn her light off, she realised her mouth was rather dry. She thought back to the salty paella and decided that it was probably wise to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. Groaning, she left her comfortable bed and padded downstairs, deciding to forgo turning on the kitchen light and instead relying on the pool lights that were filtering through the kitchen window. She could see enough to find the glass cupboard, so she grabbed one and headed towards the tap. She was just about to twist the knob when she heard a rustling sound coming from the pool.
Hesitantly, she put the glass on the side and walked over to the window. Peering out of it, she could make out the shadow of a dark figure fiddling with the sun loungers. She wondered whether to get Steven, but she could guarantee that he was asleep, or Mapi, who she didn’t want to give another reason to tease her.
Hesitantly, she picked a knife up from the rack and tiptoed outside, shivering as the cold night air enveloped her. The figure was straightening the loungers, and Ingrid felt her heart squeeze in fear. They didn’t seem to be on a hunt to kill her, but they certainly looked muscular, and Ingrid wasn’t sure she fancied her chances in a fight.
As she moved closer to the figure, they still hadn’t noticed that she was there. With as much confidence as she could muster, she thrust the knife out in front of her.
“Get out of my villa,” she tried to say sternly, her voice quivering with fear. The figure turned around, and Ingrid nearly jumped out of her skin in fright, all her senses heightened. The person’s face was slowly revealed, and Ingrid nearly thrust the knife into them out of anger.
“Maria,” she said breathlessly, “what the fuck are you doing out here?”
She slowly lowered the knife and sat on the sun lounger, her heart still thudding in her chest. There had been several times in her life when she had felt scared, but she normally had Steven by her side to protect her. This time she was completely on her own, and it felt terrible.
“Shit,” Mapi said, running her hand through her hair, “I’m so sorry- I thought everyone had gone to bed. I was just tidying up.”
She gingerly sat on the sun lounger next to a shaking Ingrid. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arm around her shoulder in comfort. Ingrid tensed, and Mapi was about to move it away and apologise again when Ingrid relaxed, leaning into the Spaniard.
Mapi’s scent was welcoming, and Ingrid finally felt safe enclosed by her strong arm. Her breath was shaky, but feeling Mapi’s chest rise and fall calmed her, helping her to even out her breathing.
Mapi carefully removed the knife from Ingrid’s trembling hand, noticing how the Norwegian’s arm was covered in goosebumps.
“Should we go back inside?” Mapi said softly, her eyes pooled with concern.
Ingrid nodded timidly, letting the Spaniard help her stand up. She waited for Mapi to remove her hand, but it just migrated to the small of her back. Normally she would indignantly tell Mapi off, reminding her that she was an independent woman, but her nerves were so frayed that the gentle pressure was comforting as they walked back into the house.
Returning to her forgotten glass, Ingrid filled it up with water and started heading back to her room when she noticed Mapi was still in the kitchen, leaning heaving against the counter. Her brow furrowed as she noticed the Spaniard lean forward and put her face in her hands, sighing heavily.
“Are you okay?” Ingrid said tentatively.
Mapi flinched slightly, surprise etched on her face as she turned around and noticed Ingrid was still there.
“Yeah,” she said weakly, “sorry, I’m just a bit of a mess.”
Ingrid placed her glass back down and walked back into the kitchen. Mapi may have been a pain in the ass for the whole day, but that didn’t mean Ingrid was going to leave her to have a breakdown.
Mapi waved her off, “No, it’s fine. You go to bed, I’ll be okay.”
Ingrid sighed. Even in her most vulnerable state, the Spaniard was still trying to protect her, but trying to brush off the princess of Norway was useless; Ingrid was too stubborn for that.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong,” she said sternly, pulling out one of the stools by the counter and firmly anchoring herself on it, “so either we can stay here in silence all night, or you can speak to me.”
Mapi shook her head in disbelief, “you’re impossible.”
Ingrid shrugged, a smug smirk on her face. It may have seemed like she was just teasing Mapi, but she truly did care about her bodyguard’s wellbeing. Mapi waited for Ingrid to fire back a quick response, but the Norwegian was serious about getting her to open up.
“Fine,” Mapi said in defeat, “I just feel like I’m screwing everything up.”
Ingrid cocked her head in confusion, “I didn’t die today, so I think you did a pretty decent job.”
“Thanks,” Mapi replied, a grimace on her face. “That’s not all my job is about though. I’m meant to help you feel safe and comfortable, and all I’ve managed to do is nearly scare you to death twice and tease you relentlessly.”
Mapi’s face was pained, and Ingrid felt a wave of guilt washing over her.
“That’s not true,” Ingrid said firmly. “Well, the teasing bit may not be far off, but I’m to blame for that as well. I feel safe around you, and if that doesn’t tell you how well you’re doing your job, then I don’t know what will.”
Mapi nodded unconvincingly, and Ingrid tried to stifle her yawn, the adrenaline slowly leaving her bloodstream and being replaced by exhaustion.
“Come on then,” she said, “If you don’t go to bed soon you won’t get any sleep, and I’m not sure how effective you’ll be then.”
Mapi chuckled and followed the Norwegian out of the kitchen. Just as Ingrid was about to walk up the stairs she faltered, remembering her shorts. They barely covered her ass, and she knew that the Spaniard would get quite a show if she followed her up the stairs. She awkwardly tried to tug them down, hoping Mapi couldn’t see her face turning a light shade of pink under the corridor light.
“What, do you want me to carry you up the stairs?” Mapi joked as Ingrid stopped in front of the first step. She was oblivious to the Norwegian’s struggle and just wanted to get to bed.
When Ingrid didn’t reply, Mapi huffed in annoyance and bent down, placing one arm around the back of the Norwegian’s legs and the other around her shoulders. Before Ingrid had time to react, the floor disappeared from underneath her feet and she was suspended in the air, the Spaniard’s strong arms the only thing keeping her from falling.
She squealed in surprise, but Mapi didn’t let go, tightening her grip around the Norwegian. Her face was set in a determined smirk, and Ingrid searched for any sign of discomfort in her eyes, but she seemed unbothered by lifting Ingrid’s weight.
Instinctively Ingrid wrapped her arms around Mapi’s shoulders as her bodyguard started to carry her up the stairs, princess style. Mapi barely grunted with the effort, and Ingrid tried not to notice how their faces were only inches apart or the feeling of the Spaniard’s muscled chest against hers.
Ingrid knew that if she asked, Mapi would put her down in an instant, understanding her boundaries. Yet the words got stuck in her throat as she clung onto Mapi for dear life, attempting to hide the small smile on her lips. She knew the irony of being carried princess style, but she honestly didn’t care, not when she could feel the Spaniard’s warm breath on her neck or her calloused hands on her bare legs.
When they reached the top of the stairs Mapi carefully placed her back on the floor, grinning as Ingrid attempted to act annoyed. Ingrid huffed and sauntered back to her room, her pink face slowly turning a shade of red. She would have to get Mapi to sign an iron-clad NDA at the end of the trip, although the content that it contained was slowly increasing, each experience with her bodyguard a far cry from her usual stoic composure.
Ingrid groaned as she woke up the next morning, the sunlight filtering through her thin curtains. Due to her run-in with Mapi, she had only managed to steal a few hours of sleep, and even then they were plagued with images of the Spaniard, some more indecent than others.
Regretfully, she pulled herself out of bed and to her ensuite, completing her morning routine with minimal effort. She picked out a stripy bikini and put it on under some denim shorts and a cropped t-shirt, packing her tote bag for the beach before heading downstairs for breakfast.
The table was overflowing with pastries and fruit as Ingrid sat down in the same seat as the previous night, handpicking a few items to put on her plate. Frido and Caro were sitting on the other side of the table, and they stopped their discussion as soon as they noticed Ingrid sitting down, guilty looks on their faces.
Before Ingrid could question them about it, Mapi plonked herself down into the seat next to the Norwegian, immediately piling her plate high with pastries.
“Save some for the rest of us,” Ingrid said teasingly, eying up Mapi’s plate.
Mapi took a large bite of a croissant, the pastry muffling her response. Ingrid raised her eyebrow at her manners, and the Spaniard chewed faster, washing down the rest of her bite with a swig of juice.
“I’m just fuelling up,” she said defensively, “you wouldn’t want to be kidnapped just because I couldn’t run after you, would you?”
“Good to know your abilities are dependent on pastries,” Ingrid said with a sigh, taking a delicate bite of her croissant. She wiped away the crumbs that had accumulated around her mouth with her napkin, scowling as Mapi used her tongue to make hers disappear. She couldn’t quite stop her eyes from focusing on the Spaniard’s tongue, her mind going to dirty places that made her immediately tear them away, shame creeping up her neck in the form of a blush.
“So,” Frido said cheerfully from the other side of the table, “is everyone excited to go to the beach?”
“No,” Caro said, turning her nose up, “I hate the sand.”
“Aww come on,” Frido said, “it’s going to be fun!”
Caro chewed moodily on a piece of mango, and Ingrid couldn’t help but chuckle at her friend’s bluntness.
“ I’m excited,” Mapi said proudly, “I love the beach.”
“Thank you!” Frido said in an exasperated voice, “At least one person is in the holiday spirit.”
At that moment Steven walked into the room, wearing a questionable Hawaiian print shirt. Ingrid’s face dropped in horror at its bright colours, and she nearly exiled him straight away, his wide smile the only thing stopping her.
“I’m in the spirit too,” he announced jovially, sitting down at the head of the table.
The rest of the table burst into laughter. Mapi nearly choked on her croissant and Ingrid had to wipe tears from the corner of her eyes, her bodyguard’s confusion only making her laugh more.
“What?” Steven said in a hurt voice, “Is it my shorts? I should’ve known red was too exotic.”
He barely managed to finish his sentence before he was drowned out by another wave of laughter.
They eventually managed to coerce Steven into changing his shirt into a plain white one, citing safety concerns. He grudgingly agreed and they piled into the car, ready for a fun day at the beach. Caro looked less than enthusiastic, especially when Mapi started to slow the car and expertly parked it next to the coastline, the smell of salt now lingering in the air.
Mapi grabbed her obnoxiously big rucksack from the boot, and Ingrid couldn’t help but scoff, slinging her smaller tote back over her shoulder. Frido and Steven strode ahead, debating where to set their towels up for optimum tanning opportunity and security, and Caro tiptoed behind, refusing to take off her trainers.
Ingrid pulled off her sandals, letting out a sigh of relief as she felt the warm sand seep between her toes. She could hear the waves crashing in the distance, the gentle sound instantly calming her. The beach had always been her happy place, and she couldn’t wait to stretch out on a towel and sunbathe.
“So,” Mapi said excitedly, hoisting her backpack up her shoulders, “what do you want to play first? I’ve got a football, bat and ball or some boules.”
Ingrid shook her head incredulously, “Is that what you’ve got in that massive bag? I was hoping it was a six-pack of beer.”
“Of course not,” Mapi replied defensively, “I think giving alcohol to a princesa would result in an immediate firing.”
“I guess I won’t be sharing any of the wine I have in my bag with you then,” Ingrid said cheekily, pulling out the top of the bottle. Mapi’s eyes widened in shock, and she immediately pushed Ingrid’s hand back into the bag, checking around furtively to make sure no one saw.
“You can’t drink that,” she said in a hushed whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because!” Mapi spluttered, gesturing wildly, “I can’t be responsible for guarding you if you're drunk.”
“Not my problem,” Ingrid said with a smirk. They reached Frido and Steven, who had already started setting down the towels. Ingrid looked for Caro, but the Norwegian was just a speck in the distance; she would eventually find them.
“Anyway, you can’t play any of my games if you’re drunk,” Mapi said with a pout. She haphazardly threw her towel onto the sand, making it very clear it was merely a symbol and that she wouldn’t be spending any time lying on it.
“Oh Maria,” Ingrid said with a chuckle, “the only way I’m playing your games is if I’m drunk.”
Mapi huffed and rummaged in her bag, producing a football. Carefully laying her towel onto the sand, Ingrid watched as the Spaniard started doing keepie uppies. She managed to control the ball for an impressive number of kicks until it went flying, nearly landing on an unsuspecting family. Mapi winced and retrieved her ball, apologising profusely to the scowling father.
Ingrid secretly took a swig of wine and removed her clothing, leaving her just in her bikini. Her skin was already slightly tanned from the previous day, and she knew this bikini complemented her body well, highlighting her best features.
She tried to sunbathe but all she could hear was Mapi apologising to yet another family as her ball went haywire, ruining her peace. Grimacing, she got up rather ungracefully and walked over to the Spaniard. Mapi grinned as she got closer, and Ingrid wasn’t sure what was more blinding; her smile or the sun.
“Have you come to play?” she asked excitedly, handing Ingrid the ball.
Ingrid spun it in her hands before dropping it down onto her foot, performing several perfectly controlled kicks. When her legs started to tire, she kicked it slightly higher and caught it with her hands, smirking at her shocked bodyguard.
“Just wanted to show you how it was done,” Ingrid said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “try not to hurt anyone with your, uh, attempts .”
She managed to catch a glimpse of Mapi’s jaw swinging open before she turned around and walked back to her towel, making sure to swing her hips slightly. For someone who was scared to walk up the stairs the previous night, she was certainly bold today, all her reservations flying out the window. She had seen the way Mapi’s eyes unconsciously roamed her body, and she knew that even if her bodyguard vehemently denied it, there was some level of attraction between the two of them. Ingrid wasn’t afraid to use that to her advantage as she took another swig of wine, passing the bottle to Frido. Before the Swede could take a sip Mapi ran over, stealing the bottle from her hands. Frido sighed indignantly, trying to grasp the bottle from Mapi’s strong grip.
“No,” she said sternly, clutching the bottle to her chest. She turned to face Ingrid and her eyebrow furrowed in annoyance, “You’re a bad influence, princesa .”
“Oh, I know,” Ingrid said, placing her hands behind her head and lying down. She made sure to make a show of stretching her long limbs, and even though her eyes closed, she could feel Mapi staring at her appreciatively.
“Wine!” Caro said excitedly, finally reaching the group. She prised the bottle from an unsuspecting Mapi and unscrewed the top, taking along a swig of the liquid. “I’ve changed my mind- I don’t mind the beach after all.”
Mapi groaned, “Steven? Any help here?”
“Nope,” Steven said, “I’m reading my book.”
Mapi huffed and sat on her towel like a petulant child, “Great,” she said sarcastically, giving up trying to gain ownership of the wine bottle, which was already half empty.
“It’s okay Maria,” Ingrid said sweetly, “this is only the start.”
“What?”
“Oh, didn’t you know?” Ingrid said nonchalantly, a small smile tugging at her lips, “We’re going clubbing tonight.”
Mapi’s groans were drowned out by cheers from Frido and Caro. She looked out at the sea and wondered if she would still get paid if she magically went missing in it, only to return a week later when the holiday had finished. It didn’t seem likely, and Mapi collapsed onto her towel in defeat, her resistance to the Norwegian princess slowly crumbling every second.
#fc barcelona#ingrid engen#football#woso#mapi leon#fanfic#mapi león#mapi leon x ingrid engen#barca femeni#fcb femení#woso community#woso fanfics#caroline graham hansen#fridolina rolfö
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Can you please do relationship (preferably both NSFW and SFW) head cannons for juri,chunli, and Cammy x !male reader, the son of M.bison
He was supposed to be another vessel for bison to transfer into, but he rebelled(the reader is stronger than bison) and wants to replace all the bad his dad had done with his own legacy of good
I was up late playing SF6 and thought this would make such a good angsty and fluff post this my first time requesting something so a little nervous. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable
Don't worry about it! You did great in submitting your ask, not to mention I had a blast writing this! Also, sorry if this is a bit long!
Now! Your wish is my command!
The first time Chun-Li met you, it was when she was chasing down Neo Shadaloo, trying to figure out exactly what they were doing.
She had got the upper hand on their leader, the young man called Ed, and just as she was about to knock him out before bringing him back to the interpol offices to interrogate him when you interfered.
Just as her kick was about to land, Ed disappeared in a flash of purple and pink and he reappeared, alongside you, only just barely outside of her range.
“Thanks, I thought I was done for!” Ed exclaimed as he breathed heavily.
“You should probably get out of here Ed, you are not in the best of states.” you told the blonde young man as you walked towards Chun-Li, your eyes closed and hand on the back of your neck before you cracked it, and Psycho Power began rolling off of you like waves, your eyes opening in tandem, your irises painted pink and purple and your hair turning stark white.
“Now then miss Chun-Li, you’ll be dealing with me. Though do be aware, I can only spare seven minutes to play with you.” you told the woman as you removed your hand from the back of your neck and closed your fists tight, raising them to face her.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The next thing Chun-Li knew, she was fighting someone that reminded her all too much of the man who took her Father away from her.
And what made it worse?
She couldn’t land a hit on you.
She would get within a hair's breadth of touching you but then *poof* you were gone in a wave of pink and purple before she would be sent flying away.
But then, after seven minutes, you declared that “Your time was up.” and that you had “Enjoyed the game the two of you played.”
And that left Chun-Li in an abandoned warehouse, cut up and covered in scrapes and bruises, watching the wave of pink and purple fade away from where you stood only a split second earlier.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
After that, it was quite a bit of time before Chun-Li met you again.
Almost a year had passed before Li-Fen had shot into the dojo, dragging someone behind her.
That person Li-Fen was dragging behind her?
Was you.
Li-Fen said she found you “Wandering around the city, looking for a “Certain Martial Arts Master”.
Needless to say, Li-Fen brought you to Chun-Li, not knowing at all who you were.
But, she quickly figured it out when you and Chun-Li started talking.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chun-Li and Li-Fen were, of course, shocked by what you told them.
How you were the son of Bison.
How you were made.
How you were able to use Psycho Power without drawbacks.
And why you were working with Neo Shadaloo and just exactly what Neo Shadaloo was.
Chun-Li, was of course wary of you telling her all of this and why you were doing so.
However, when you gave her access to the Neo Shadaloo archives, that wariness was lessened, even if only slightly.
After that, you stuck around, helping out around the Dojo and helping Chun-Li teach.
Quickly the two of you struck up a friendship despite the… messiness that your pasts shared.
After a while, Li-Fen started teasing Chun-Li about her “Crush” which would lead to Chun-Li hitting her over the head with a blush on her face.
But then, one day, Chun-Li asked you if you would mind spending the day with her.
And so, the two of you painted the town red, setting off in the morning and only heading back home long after the sun had set, plenty of souvenirs in hand.
It was only when the two of you were walking down the street on the way back to the dojo, that you said exactly what had been running around in your head the entire day.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“Y’know Chun-Li, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a date.” you told the woman who simply blushed and said.
“I wouldn’t be… opposed to that.”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
After that, the two of you were inseparable.
Li-Fen was of course the first person to figure it out, saying that “She wondered how long the two of you were going to dance around eachother like that!”
She also told you two to “Stop training so loudly at night” and that it was “Stopping her from sleeping!”
At this, Chun-Li nearly melted into the floor out of embarrassment.
Why?
Well, the two of you weren’t “training” in the traditional sense.
She, of course, was definitely showing off how flexible she was at night but…
Well… Li Fen was a bit too young to know anything else besides that.
And all Chun-Li could say was that the two of you would “Try and keep it down.” knowing all too well that she may not be able to keep that promise.
Juri wasn’t too sure what to think of you when she met you for the first time.
On one hand, that was Psycho Power you were using, the same type of energy that the bastard who was responsible for her parents death used.
On the other, you were on a rampage through the Shadaloo base, tearing the place apart.
Bringing down the ceiling, ripping up the foundations, tearing down the walls, the whole shebang.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay and chat at the moment.
In part due to the fact that you were bringing the base down on top of their head.
But also because she was helping a certain blonde get the hell out of dodge.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The next time Juri saw you was a few years later during one of the times she crossed paths with “Neo Shadaloo.”
Much like last time, you were tearing down a building with reckless abandon.
This time however, Juri was watching from the outside with the other parts of the Neo Shadaloo freak show.
“*whistle* That guy is really ripping the place up!” Juri exclaimed as she watched you work, pulling down a helicopter with Psycho Power and launching it into a tank, destroying both.
“He’s always been like that as long as I’ve known him. Very… wild.” the leader of the group, Ed responded whilst drinking from a juice box.
“Heh, sounds like me and him would get along!” Juri said with a laugh.
“It would definitely not be beyond the realm of possibility, especially with the hatred the two of you share for his father.” Ed’s second in command, Falke, stated absentmindedly.
“For who?” Juri asked, confused for a brief moment about who Falke was talking about before the dots connected.
The Psycho Power, the overwhelming animosity to Shadaloo Remnants, the overwhelming force.
“Holy shit. THAT FUCKER HAD A KID!?” Juri screamed in a mix of shock, fury, and disgust at the image placed in her mind.
“Yes, Bison created that person down there with a mixture of his own DNA, Data from the experiments like us, and a woman who had her genome altered to have a high regenerative factor. Though, he was far too strong for what Bison originally intended for him. Which in turn led to us being experimented on.” Ed told Juri who was still in shock at what she had just learned.
After a moment, the words registered, and Juri asked.
“What do you mean by “Too Strong For What Bison Originally Intended?”
“To put it simply, Bison wanted a perfect body, one that could heal from the stress and damage using Psycho Power at such a powerful level, hence the experimentation and search for the way to create the Perfect vessel. If he had been successful, he would’ve been basically unstoppable. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for us, that guy had a will of his own, one that seemed to be completely unbreakable, even with Bison and F.A.N.G. doing their worst to break it.” Falke explained.
An explosion rang out, catching Juri’s attention as the sound of missiles roared out.
On the main runway, missiles being held aloft by Psycho Power launched into the base, turning the entire place into a blasted landscape of craters, ruins, and purple and pink fire.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
After that, Juri got… curious.
She started hanging around Neo Shadaloo, taking more jobs for them, making a sort of… alliance with them.
All to satisfy her curiosity in you.
All to learn more about the object of mystery that you are.
Over time, Juri did, eventually meet you in a… less than official capacity.
As it turns out, you had noticed the interest she had taken in you, and in turn, you took an interest in her.
After that… well… one thing leads to another.
The two of you kept it secret for a while, trying to figure how this thing would work.
After all, Your pops was responsible for the death of Juri’s parents and if she thought about it for too long, she would start laughing like crazy at just how ridiculous it is, with you often doing the same.
Nonetheless, neither of you are particularly subtle people and, eventually, someone, probably Falke, found out.
It will probably be made into this big thing by Ed and the other members of the group Ed personally leads.
There will be a party, there will be cake, there will of course be spicy food for Juri, and she will be formally named as “Part Of The Family” by the others.
It is a whole event, and pretty overwhelming for Juri.
Nonetheless, it was… kind of nice to be welcomed so openly.
Though if they knew what the two of you got up to in bed…
Heh, well, she got the feeling poor Falke would have a heart attack on the spot.
After all, she is a pretty flexible lady with quite a bit of power in those legs of hers.
Not to mention… well… she’s got her own… kinks.
You were so cute when you were below her and so hot when you got the upper hand.
And Juri Han knew that she was a very, very bad girl.
If there was one thing Cammy White was good at, it was fighting.
She was quite literally built for it.
And yet, there was one person she had never been able to land an actual hit on, much less defeat.
You, the left hand of Neo Shadaloo and a master of the same power that Bison once used.
Psycho Power.
And you seemed even more powerful than him.
Weapons always stopped short of hitting you, punches only ever hit empty air, artillery would be crushed into scrap metal.
Despite that. she was the only person to ever get close to you.
And all she had to show for it? A patch that tore off of your outfit that depicted the symbol of Neo Shadaloo.
It was frustrating to her.
Despite that, she had to admit that she was… curious.
How did someone like you come to be?
How could you fight like that without falling to pieces due to Psycho Power tearing you apart?
It made her want to find you and make you tell her everything.
It made her want to know exactly who you were.
Little did Cammy know that her wishes were soon to be answered.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
There was a Cafe Cammy frequented.
It was a nice little place, just a few minutes walk from her home.
Good coffee, good tea, and good sweets.
The owners were an old couple, very nice people and they knew her by her name, not to mention that they had an absolutely beautiful black cat.
And so, when she arrived one day, she was surprised to hear them talking about her to a stranger.
Telling the stranger how “Nice” and “Sweet” she was and how much she loved her cats.
And then, the stranger turned around and instantly Cammy was on high alert.
The stranger was not any stranger.
The stranger was you.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
There was a tenseness between the two of you as you both waited to be served.
“What are you doing here?” Cammy asked you, trying to find a way to force you outside and away from the couple if she had to fight you.
“Me? Oh, I am here for you Miss White. You see, I find you quite intriguing.” you told her truthfully.
For some reason, Cammy felt her cheeks flush at this.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
After that, you became a constant fixture at the Cafe.
Either helping out around it, or trying to get over the walls Cammy White had while she was there.
Eventually, after quite a long time, you managed to get past her walls by letting you through hers.
The two of you talked about your respective lives or what both of you could recall about them.
Cammy was shocked to learn who you were and why you were doing what you were doing, but she did understand it.
You were shocked to learn about who Cammy used to be and why she existed, but you were glad for her and how much she changed.
And eventually, the two of you became friends of sorts.
The owners of the Cafe were quite happy to see their best customers getting along and said something about “Wondering when both of them will really get together?”
Neither of you knew what this meant until much, much later when Cammy, for some reason she didn’t really understand, invited you to her place.
After that things… escalated… quickly.
Confessions of love, happy crying, hugging, and so much more.
When morning finally came around for the two of you, it was almost midday, and neither of you felt like you could stand, much less walk.
Though… there was still plenty of energy for round two.
Besides, Cammy had a few moves she wanted to try on you.
#chun li x reader#chun li#cammy white x reader#cammy street fighter#cammy x reader#cammy white#juri han x reader#juri x reader#juri han#juri
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Thinking of Nova!Gideon again… Our Gideon training so hard because she knows that it’s her only way out of the Ninth but Nova!Gideon has to be the best necromancer ever because if she isn’t she’d probably be killed. Her skill is the only thing that’s kept her alive and she can see exactly what they’ve done to Harrow, the daughter they killed 200 children for, because of her lack of said skill.
She’s going to be the leader of these people and she’s not one of them. Her eyes are the wrong color, her hair is bright, she probably stands taller and she is more muscular than anyone else. None of the holy relics of the Ninth are connected to her and the only thing on that planet that’s a part of her are her unknown mother’s bones.
#more nova Gideon pls pls pls#the locked tomb#gideon nav#neco gideon#I love her#she probably watched her mothers bones all the time#did she move her around ?? because if she did Wake would have been PISSED#her monster of a daughter her BOMB being one of those monster …#I saw someone’s tags saying she probably covered her hair too#and yeah man…#she probably covered her hair and her face#and if she found a way to cover her eyes in a ‘ninth’ way#she would do that too#she wouldn’t know but she’d be hiding everything from her mother#and all the while wanting to be connected to her
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okay knk movie 5 is really good for people who are deeply attracted to touko(me)
#there's some really good shots of her hair covering her face and also some scenes where she's smiling#and her teeth are just slightly more detailed than they probably needed to be#and i'm a big fan of that personally#:)#oh also she wears her coat a lot which is nice too#it looks cool imo
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I will not be anonymous about this!
The vibe you give off is hopeful.
Right now, life is hard, but you don't give up.
You see all the bad and acknowledge it, but you don't give up.
You have been hurt in the past, but you don't give up.
Your heart is pure. Your soul is indomitable. Your will is invincible.
🥺
#hi#I know you sent this awhile ago#but I didn’t know how to reply for the longest time#hearing that I give off hopeful vibes is so heartwarming#I really really try to give off hope#cause yeah I know I’m down sometimes but at the end of the day if you have hope? that’s all you need#hope is probably my favorite word#I’m going to get it tattooed on me sometime#idk if it’ll just be hope or what#also that quote or twitter post you added gave me chills#I took a screenshot of it and I’m going to keep it close#whenever I’m having a really rough day I’m going to look at it#I want to be the face of hope#not the one where she is beautiful and flawless#her hair is perfect and nothing is out of place#no no no#that’s not what real hope is#hope is the girl who just got out of battle#covered in blood sweat and tears#she rises again even if she feels defeated#cause tomorrow is always a new day#thank you so so much for the kind words lovely#I really appreciate it 🥺🥰#ask#sweet asks#fav asks
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can i explain why this made me go ‘oh yeah i have a type’? no. it’s true though, this is 13
#dont ask me to identify WHAT in the WORLD the vibe is they share but they do#they do share a vibe#actually there are prbably things i could point at#being covered in all kinds of grime definitely contributes#in my head 13 is always covered in grime#like this is what she should look like#realistically 13s hair is tangled and damp with sweat and her makeup should be all over her face and also probably her sleeves when shes#wiped at her face forgetting there was makeup#and then theres the mud and motor oil#the neurodivergent mannerisms#gender: it's fluid#and the clown costume speaks for itself#mcrposting
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happy wife, happy life — gojo satoru
synopsis. not fawning over his wife may prove to be harder than gojo thought.
contents. fluff, gojo is so whipped for his wife and everyone is tired (whats new), ooc gojo?
notes. this was pure self indulgence. i wanted to slander and coddle gojo all at once and this was it teehee :3
the first thing you hear when you stand up to leave the staff meeting is a wolf whistle.
“looking good,” satoru looks you up and down. you roll your eyes playfully, your husband’s behavior is not foreign to you. he taps your upper thigh, dangerously close to your butt as you take your leave. however, the others in the room don't take kindly to the action.
“highly inappropriate behavior gojo,” utahime mutters under her breath from across the table. beside her, nanami is giving your husband a hard stare.
satoru pays no mind to them though, smiling up at you as you walk out of the room. you shake your head when he continuously blows a series of kisses. he ignores your rejection, opting to mouth crude comments instead.
the moment the door shuts, the strongest sorcerer immediately deflates, disinterested in whatever matters the rest had to discuss about.
“i don’t know how she puts up with you,” utahime takes a long sip out of her cup of tea. beside her, shoko snorts.
“probably for his body.” shoko is not unfamiliar with satoru’s antics, having witnessed it since his rowdy school days. she applauds him for coming far with you, but it was still fun to tease him.
gojo crosses his arms, emitting a disgruntled sound. “and my golden personality?”
nanami sighs, “ieiri’s conclusion is most likely right.”
the limitless user wiggles his finger playfully. “nanamin, how scandalous of you to fantasize about my body! i’m a married man y’know~”
nanami looks like he has eaten something sour. unlike you, nanami’s attitude towards gojo has not softened as the years passed.
“i’m surprised she’s still with you.” utahime snickers. “she’s a sensible woman and you’re–”
satoru frowns at her statement. he’d never thought about how you felt about his behavior. perhaps that was his fatal flaw. gojo satoru had a nasty streak of negligence. and the last time he failed to notice someone dear to him —
“well i’m glad she ended up choosing me, yeah?” his frown is quickly covered up by the wide smirk on his face. he leans back on his chair that’s starting to feel less comfortable by the second. the chair creaks under the weight of his body. honestly, how old are these old wooden things? “as much as i’d like to keep chatting about my lovely wife, i’d like to get this meeting over with so i can see her again.”
the rest of the meeting ensues as usual.
“sensei has been weird… right?” itadori offers his hand after knocking megumi down during a sparring match. the black haired boy grunts as he is pulled up.
“if by weird, you mean normal.” megumi glances back at you and gojo who are watching intently at the first and second years practicing close combat on the training field. it was a bit peculiar to see satoru not throw himself all over you. gojo without pda is like a jigsaw puzzle missing its most essential piece, leaving the overall picture incomplete and lacking the electrifying energy that defines his existence.
“i feel like i should be happy, but it’s unsettling to see him not initiating some misconduct. do you think they’re fighting?” nobara is panting on the grassy floor. she raises her hand in surrender when maki leaps in to take her head off with a spear.
maki retracts her blade, turning back to observe you and gojo, “nah, gojo would fold at her command.”
“salmon.”
from across the training field, you turn to your husband nervously, “why are they staring at us?”
satoru hums, his blindfolded gaze focuses on the field in front of you, “hm, maybe they’re admiring their very beautiful [name] sensei.” the blindfolded man pauses. compliments should still be okay– right? satoru can’t imagine a life without lavishing you with love, yet he will content himself with gently sprinkling you with affection.
you smack his shoulder playfully. to your surprise, your husband doesn’t reciprocate with some form of physical affection. you tilt your head, perplexed.
quickly dismissing it, you yell at your students to continue their training.
you don’t notice the way satoru clenches his fists, keeping his eyes trained anywhere but you.
the next time satoru is tempted by your presence is when he comes back home after a mission. it was a walk in the park, but the heavy stack of paperwork that followed it had depleted his energy. all he wanted was to snuggle in bed with his wife, selfishly keeping you all to himself.
and you’re not making it easier to resist with the way you warmly greet him with a smile in nothing but a small cotton tee and those tiny pajama shorts. eyes up, eyes up, eyes up, satoru mentally chants.
he thinks he might actually die.
“toru!” you abandon the book you had been reading to pay your husband taxes (kisses that satoru demands he must have). “you’re home awfully late.”
“mission… paperwork,” his clipped response is mumbled as he hurries past you and to your shared bathroom, avoiding your touch. satoru silently prays to the heavens that you don’t notice his suspicious efforts as he makes his way to take a much needed ice cold shower.
you stand in your spot in confusion, letting your husband go. slowly, you start to connect the pieces of satoru’s strange behavior from his refusal to touch you to his sudden responsible disposition. gojo satoru never does paperwork– not unless you bribe him with a dozen kisses. speaking of kisses, you don’t even remember the last time he had demanded one. something was definitely wrong.
without missing a beat, you quickly follow your lover’s trail into the bathroom.
to your delight, your husband had failed to lock the door. in the hush of your silence, you can hear the subtle rustle of satoru's garments.
his sky blue eyes go wide when he sees you walk through the door.
“toru… is there something wrong?” your voice is careful.
the white haired man in front of you nervously laughs as he covers his bare chest, “geez, ask me out to dinner first.”
“gojo satoru.”
your husband winces at his full name being used, but he puts on another mask. a faux smile plays on his lips as he shrugs. “i don’t know what you mean, gojo.”
your heart drops at his insistence to shut you out, but you stand your ground. with sheer determination, you walk up to your husband, closing the gap between the two of you. you cup his cheek with a hand while you start to lean closer, your lips nearly brushing.
satoru shuts his eyes, inhaling a deep breath to regain composure. he even sucks in his lips, making him look utterly ridiculous. despite the dangerous allure of your proximity, he resolves to stand firm.
"you won’t even kiss me anymore! satoru, this is absurd. what's happening?" you distance yourself, seeking answers.
despite his towering stature, a snort escapes you as satoru resembles a mere child when mumbling something under his breath.
"come on, use your big boy words."
"i don't want to drive you away," he avoids making eye contact now that his blindfold is off. "i know i can be a bit overwhelming at times."
upon hearing his excuse, you snort loudly, “seriously?”
“seriously.”
“i can’t believe i married such an idiot.” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck.
satoru pouts, “you’re breaking my heart wifey.”
your lips softly kiss the corner of his mouth. like it was muscle memory, satoru’s lips chase yours even after you pull away. you smile.
“for such a genius, you really are stupid ‘toru.” you flick his forehead. he whines and you know it didn’t hurt, yet you entertain him by leaning up to kiss his injury. “believe it or not, i married you for reasons beyond your pretty face and body.”
“you think i’m pretty?” his eyes shine bright as they lovingly gaze into yours. you take one hand to cup his cheek. he nuzzles his face into it.
“of course you’d say that.” you laugh softly. “but honestly, i’m offended that you thought i would ever be annoyed by your affections. might i remind you that we have been madly in love since our youth? i found myself captivated by your ability to love effortlessly, and the way you hopelessly pined for me for years? i knew i was a goner. that… and your bank accoun–”
satoru kisses you with an intensity that leaves you feeling blissfully lightheaded. lost in the haze of the moment, he showers the rest of your face with tender, wet kisses, and you stand there, surrendering to the sweet assault.
upon withdrawing, satoru wears a broad grin. "i was an idiot today, wasn't i?" you nod, breathless. "how about i make it up to you tonight?" he proposes, drawing you close. you are all too familiar with that feral grin adorning his face.
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo fluff#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader
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after literal years of deciding, i figured out one (1) tattoo that mikayla has: a thorns and roses (but mostly thorns) tattoo that encircles her bicep + up into her shoulder, covering the scar her father had given her on her shoulder. covering the scar is 90% reason for the tattoo.
#took me 5 years to decide on a very basic tattoo but she's just a personified rose with 5000 thorns so :)#tragically this is the only scar she's able to cover... her eyebrow scar and cheekbone scar just have to remain because she will#NEVER in her life get a face tattoo... ever#her nastiest scar is the one on the back of her head from when it got busted open but. thats covered by her hair anyway so its fine.#headcanon.#i'll delete this later after i add it somewhere else i just didn't want to forget.#still high from the trailer btw... probably going to reread again
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend.
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments.
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles
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Will work for food
DP x DC
An idea that's probably been done before but... here it is again.
~~
It was not an ideal setting for this. Out in the open, debris being their only cover. An unnatural storm closing in. The area had been evacuated but there was still no telling how many civilian eyes could be on them at this very moment.
The League was scattered, making this current group a touch at odds while away from the majority of their normal teams.
Batman stood with Red Robin, Flash, Superboy, and Raven. It wasn’t a bad lineup, but things were getting dicy.
A monster had appeared, a creature foreign to most of them. With it came storms of all kinds, winds, hail, rain. It was a mess but there was nothing natural about it. The hail shattered the pavement. The winds were picking buildings up off their foundations. The blue lightning went without saying. The ice was changing the terrain. The temperature changes were disorienting to most of the heroes.
Worse was the fact that this creature seemed to be able to duplicate itself, spreading the chaos out to a much wider area. They were having trouble even touching the thing let alone capturing it.
“Are you sure about this?” Batman asked, a deep frown etched into his face as he watched Raven mark out a summoning circle.
“It’s the only idea i have.” She said bluntly, shivering from the sudden chill. “That thing is not of this realm. We need something else not of this realm to subdue it.”
“I hear what you’re saying but summoning a demon to deal with a demon still leaves us with a demon.” Flash said, seeing the flaw in this plan.
“Unless you know this one personally or something.” Red Robin offered, his voice exhausted.
“It’s not a demon.” Raven said, tone irritated but it wasn’t like any of them were having a good day. “Depending on how you want to look at it, it’s far worse than a demon. That thing came from the Infinite Realm.”
Superboy just grunted once, watching her put the finishing touches on her spell circle. “You said that in a tone that said it was in capital letters. What’s the Infinite Realm?”
“Bad news and something we shouldn’t freaking touch.” Raven answered swiftly. She stood, eyes going over her work.
“Then what the hell are we doing?” Flash asked quickly, all of them tensed as the wind started to pick up again. If a hurricane was thrown at them, there was little they’d be able to do about it.
“Raven.” Batman’s voice was serious. “You’re sure?”
“It’s all i’ve got.” She repeated. “This is not a problem this realm was meant to handle on short notice. We need help.”
There were several things in that one statement he didn’t like. “Who are you summoning?”
Raven was looking rather pale herself. “The Ghost King. The King of the Infinite Realm. I’ve heard word that he can be bargained with so… we’re gonna give it a shot.”
She didn’t wait for permission from anyone else to throw in their two cents on the matter. She threw her hands out, alien words no one else understood on her lips. The chant repeated and the summoning circle began to glow a green that the present Bats didn’t care for.
It crept up the walls of the summoning circle in oddly pretty patterns before a gaping void opened on the ground. Silently, a figure rose into the circle from that same void. The king was smaller than they’d been imagining the last minute or two. He was human shaped and sized, a black crown floating several inches over his head. He was a wispy figure, face hidden by a large hood but there were strands of white hair floating around their shadowed face. He’d had nothing but a smoky looking tail when he’d first appeared but that had now split into solid looking legs.
Given his size, he seems like a young adult, but it was hard to say for certain without seeing his face.
“Woah.” Red Robin muttered, Superboy agreeing with the sentiment.
“Heroes?” The Ghost King wondered, voice soft and lethargic. “Interesting.”
Raven bowed her head in a show of respect. “Your Majesty. I apologize for the abrupt summons. We have a dire situation and are willing to make a deal for your help.”
“A deal…” His voice echoed gently. He spoke as if raising his voice would shatter the very air around them. “That’s not something to choose lightly. What do you want from me?”
Raven swallowed, her body rigid with nerves. She was almost relieved when Batman took over.
“As i understand it, we have a being from your realm here in ours. We are underprepared to deal with such destruction and-”
“Of my realm?” The King interrupted softly, head tipped a little as his attention turned to Batman. “Who?”
Flash laughed nervously. “We’re not on a first name basis or anything but the guy seems to control the weather.” He pointed up and the sky above them was darkening the longer they spoke.
The King made a noise like he’d clucked his tongue and it struck all of them as a very human kind of gesture despite his title.
“I can handle that. Your deal?”
Raven inhaled again, this obviously being the part she was dreading. “Blood, i have the blood of the Demon Lord Trigon-”
“Pass.”
That drew everyone up short. The others didn’t exactly understand the significance of Raven offering her blood but it clearly wasn’t something she’d expected to be declined so quickly.
“My soul then….” Raven muttered.
“Raven, no!” Superboy hissed. “The fuck!”
Batman was also eyeing her unhappily. “Absolutely not. You are not Constantine.”
Fortunately for the heroes, each of which was ready to revolt for such a barter, the Ghost King waved the thought away.
“Nah.” He tugged on his hood a little and Batman realized he was likely brushing away one of those white strands of hair from his face. “That’s the thing about being the King of the Infinite Realm. Souls come to me one way or another in time. No need to preorder them.”
Raven’s shoulders sagged, eyes shifting as she rapidly tried to think of something else she could offer.
“What do you want?” Red Robin asked before anyone else could say something stupid. “You’re the one that’s going to fight this threat for us. What’s a good deal?”
The King turned to him and stared. They could only assume he was contemplating his answer when he hummed quietly. “Food.”
“Wha…” Flash muttered.
The Ghost King just nodded. “Food from your realm. It’s been…a long time since i’ve eaten.”
“Really? Like we could go grab you a burger and that would be cool?” Superboy asked, a touch suspicious, but the King just nodded.
“Deal.” Raven said before anyone would make it worse. “A meal for returning this threat back to your realm.”
The King nodded again, and each of them backed up several paces when the walls to the summoning circle broke apart and the King stepped out. For the briefest of moments he seemed to nearly stumble under the gravity of actually ‘walking’ but he got over it quickly enough.
“Can we offer you any assistance?” Batman asked.
The King shook his head. “No.” He wandered off towards the storm, the floating crown on top of his head seeming a little larger. He moved confidently and with purpose. “Oh Vortex…” He called, walking into the winds.
He sounded young, but all of them agreed immediately that they never wanted to hear him beckoning them the same way. His tone was dangerous, and he walked right through a car that had been flung in his direction.
“Cool.” Red Robin muttered.
“Simmer down, Red.” Superboy muttered. All of them wanted to follow, but with the unstable weather and a literal Ghost King wandering about, staying out of the way felt like the best option. Of course that didn’t mean they weren’t dying of curiosity.
Flash moved to stand beside Raven, making sure she wasn’t about to topple over because of the power it must have taken to summon a king from another dimension. “You good?”
“Yeah.” she breathed out a sigh. “Honestly, this was an unforeseen best case scenario. You should really go get that food for him.”
Batman moved to her otherside, hearing the voices over comms noticing a shift in what was happening. “You think it will be over that fast?”
“Yes.”
“Well-” Flash looked up at the sky that was rapidly clearing. “Yep. I’ll be right back.” He was gone in a blur but it was hard to believe a change was happening so quickly.
“Has it even been a full minute?” Superboy asked. “I mean, damn…”
“Someone better have been recording visuals.” Red Robin muttered. “We are absolutely missing something amazing.”
“He’s the King of the infinite Realm.” Raven said. “It’s the realm that connects every other realm and it is as the name implies… infinite. He rules it. I don’t even think Trigon would dare mess with him.”
Batman had his arms crossed, still listening to the amazed chatter over comms. “Should it be suspicious that all he wants is food?”
“He made the deal.” Raven shrugged. “He could have asked for anything. Literally.” She stopped speaking when the hooded king returned. He was floating this time though only a foot or two off the ground. He didn’t look tired or dirty or anything.
Just the same ethereal otherness he’d arrived with. “Done.” He announced.
“What uh- happened to the guy?” Superboy asked, pointing vaguely at where the storm had been raging.
The Ghost King just dug into his cape and pulled out…a thermos. “Souped him. He’s gonna have a little time out.”
“Oh my god, i have so many questions.” Red Robin whispered.
The thermos was put away and Batman was suppressing his own urge to ask a dozen questions over what just occurred. They’d been struggling with the Infinite creature for hours and countless lives had no doubt been altered. Clean up would take weeks if not months and this Ghost King handled it in minutes.
“My food?”
“On the way.” Raven said immediately. “Flash is one of the fastest men on the planet. He’ll be right back.”
The King nodded and looked around before moving to a pile of bricks that had once been a fence. He sat down and waited, somehow looking regal among the wreckage.
“So… I’m Red Robin.” Batman looked up again when his son was sliding closer to introduce himself. “Superboy, Raven, Batman.” He gestured and the King’s hood shifted as he followed Red Robin’s introduction of them. “Is there something we can call you or is your Majesty the most appropriate?”
The Ghost King sat in silence for a moment before reaching up to lower his hood. The shadows that had hidden his face disappeared revealing a young man only a little older than Tim. Maybe around Jason’s age. His hair was indeed white, and was braided down the nape of his neck save for the tufts of hair that floated around his face.
His skin was pale, and Batman thought it might have been gray or even blue in different light. His ears were pointed and his eyes were a haunting green.
With the hood out of the way, the crown lowered to sit on his head.
“Phantom.” He finally answered. “You can call me Phantom.”
Raven bowed her head again and Red Robin beamed. “Thank you for helping us! We literally couldn’t have done it without you.”
Phantom nodded again but without his hood to shield him there was something shy about the action.
The Flash reappeared in a cloud of dust, two bags of fast food in one hand and a collection of drinks under the other arm. “I got a little of everything!” He announced. “Got some burgers and some chicken nuggets and fries and onion rings. There’s one of those little apple pies in here somewhere too.
Phantom took the bags with a small smile and set them beside him so he could go through them. Superboy helped with the drinks, setting everything down so Phantom could have his pick. There were three different sodas, a lemonade, and a water.
It wasn’t fancy and probably wasn’t a fair trade of a meal for his services but he didn’t seem disappointed.
In a flash of rings made of light, Phantom transformed. The otherness of him was still there, but instead of a noble king of a realm, a young…very living human was in his place. Black hair instead of white was still braided down his neck and the strands around his face hung limp instead of floating.
Those eerie green eyes were now blue but that– oddly enough– was not the most startling thing about his transformation. He wore a large hoodie and jeans but his feet were bare.
His hands and feet were almost skeletal, and his face was gaunt and starved looking. His eyes were slightly sunken and his skin was a sickly kind of pale.
He looked emaciated, but there was the smallest of smiles on his face when he ate one fry and then another. He took a sip from every drink offered to him and then took a bite out of the burger.
They couldn’t help but stand there and watch, all of them transfixed over what they were seeing.
Phantom took two more bites before wrapping up the rest of his burger and placing it back in the bag.
“Not to your liking?” Flash asked, voice small.
Phantom licked his fingers and shook his head. “No, it was good. I’m just full. I’ll take it with me and eat it later when i’m hungry again.”
Batman could only imagine the size of his stomach. Stopping now was probably the healthiest thing he could have done if he wanted to keep the food down. He cleared his throat. “Are you alright?”
“Mhmm.” Phantom nodded, the rings of light appearing again. He was back in his healthier looking ghostly form. That was an oxymoron, wasn’t it? A healthy ghost form…
“You’re still alive.” Raven whispered, stuck in her shock. “The living shouldn’t… The Infinite Realm isn’t…”
Phantom’s lips tipped up in a smile. “You’re right, but wrong. I’m both. I’m dead. I’m alive. I’m balance.” He paused for a moment. “I haven’t been in a living realm for a while… guess i’ve been neglecting that side of me. Thanks for the food, it was a good deal.”
He was gathering up the bags he clearly planned to take with him.
“You should come back.” Red Robin spat the words out, likely before giving them any real thought. “I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll take you like… all the time. I am not going to pretend to know what you have going on but… shit, Agent A would disown me if i did not offer to feed you.”
Phantom looked cold briefly. “Agent… A…?”
Red Robin winced, “Code name for my grandfather. He’s an amazing cook.”
“Red Robin.” Batman scowled at him.
“Oh, what? He’s gonna give you the look for you not being the one to offer.” Red Robin said unapologetically, but the explanation had Phantom softening again. “What do you say? Lunch? Do i have to summon you?”
“Jesus, Red. Let him actually decline or accept.” Superboy was snickering.
Phantom looked between them, the confusion on his face clearing up after a beat. A piece of paper appeared between his fingers. It had some kind of squiggle on it none of them could read at a glance. He handed it over to Red Robin.
“Have that on you, say my name. I’ll find you.” Phantom said. “I should…eat again.”
“We…appreciate you helping us.” Raven added quickly, determined that they make a good impression.
Phantom’s look grew warmer again. “It was fun.” With his bags and drinks in his arms, he wandered back over to the summoning circle. “I don’t mind helping when the trouble is severe and you were right. This particular problem was mine to clean up. Sorry about him, by the way. Vortex is an asshole.”
Superboy and Flash both snorted. “Thanks anyway.”
Phantom nodded at them again, floating in the middle of the circle before his eyes glowed that bright, toxic green again. He slipped inside the void and disappeared as quickly as he arrived, the remains of the summoning circle erasing itself.
“So… That happened.” Flash muttered, not sure how they were gonna put this in a report to the rest of the League members. Batman wasn’t so sure either.
“I can’t believe you were just hitting on the Ghost King, Red.” Superboy laughed. “I mean… Lunches?”
“What?”
Raven was on her phone. “I am already telling Nightwing.”
“What!? Hey!” Red Robin was looking between them. “I wasn’t hitting on him. You leave Wing out of this!”
“No way.”
“You asked him on a date, man!” Superboy grinned. “All the titans are going to know about this in the next hour.”
“You guys suck!” Red Robin growled, his face a flame.
Batman just sighed. “There’s clean up to do. Get to work.”
He definitely did not need to think about his son’s audacity, coming onto a King of an entire realm. Where did he even learn that kind of behavior?
~~
Masterlist
#dpxdc#dc x dp crossover#danny phantom#Danny Phantom x Red Robin if you squint#Batman#Red Robin#superboy#conner kent#Raven#Flash
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