#this is the best children's story I've never read
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"Happy 100th anniversary"
a/n: this is soooo self indulgent please. It's a vignette (written only in dialogue) for Daisy's (my Yuu) birthday jacket card that I just made! I'll be linking it here once I edit this post!
cw: oc x canon (Ruggie x Daisy; they're established to be in a relationship and Daisy has already made her decision to stay in twisted wonderland); dialogue heavy; poor attemps at making this look like a fake translation from a vignette bc I'm delulu
The template for the frames of the paintings can be found here.
Words: around 1k
Happy birthday, Daisy!!
Daisy: To think I'm able to visit a museum like this! I wonder what sort of paintings I'm going to see…
Daisy: I'm expecting to maybe recognize a few from the stories mom used to read to me… let's see if I actually can recognize them!
Daisy: I wonder… is she someone I'm aware of? A lady who constantly cleans her house…
???: That's the princess who inspired the glass slippers you always wear.
Daisy: Huh? Oh, Ruggie! I thought you were all the way on the other side of the museum!
Ruggie: I was, but then I met Trey and we kinda ended up wandering around until I got here.
Ruggie: What a coincidence that I found you looking at the painting of the lady who inspired your favorite shoes, shishishi~
Daisy: I guess it is a fun coincidence. Oh, right! Would you mind explaining more about her to me?
Ruggie: Fine! But don't go walking around telling people I've gone soft…
Daisy: No need to worry, I wouldn't even dream of it.
Ruggie: *sigh* anyway… This lady is the princess that inspired your shoes, do you know the story behind it?
Daisy: Sam only explained to me that the princess who wore them danced with them until midnight… so I guess I don't know much more than that.
Ruggie: Right. Legend says she was an orphan who was forced by her stepmother to become basically a servant.
Ruggie: She cleaned the house all day everyday, was forced to hear awful things by her step family and when she wanted to go to a ball her stepsisters tore down her dress.
Ruggie: A Fairy Godmother – well, her Fairy Godmother – decided to help her get to a ball, she gave her a gown, a carriage and everything!
Ruggie: the Prince fell in love with her almost immediately and when she ran away and left her glass slipper fall, he tried it on every lady in the kingdom to find out who his beloved was. Then they got married and she never saw her family again.
Daisy: That’s basically the story of Cendrillon.
Ruggie: What? Oh– one of the fairytales from your world?
Daisy: Yes. I’ve always admired her story, I reread it a lot growing up because I related to her.
Ruggie: Ah… you did say your stepmother treated you horribly.
Daisy: She… treated me as best as she could.
Ruggie: Which wasn't anywhere near good enough.
Daisy: Haha… I guess you're right.
Daisy: What I mean is just… she treated me badly, but I don't hold grudges.
Daisy: Whatever she's doing, I forgive her. And now that I'm somewhere better and living a happier life… I hope that her and her children manage to grow as people.
Daisy: That's what my mother taught me.
Ruggie: …sometimes I really do wonder how I fell for such a goody-goody.
Daisy: W-what’s that supposed to mean?
Ruggie: I’m just saying, you're way too naive and nice to forgive someone like that.
Ruggie: if it were me, I’d never forgive them. No way someone's gonna step all over me and I'll forgive them.
Daisy: because that's exactly what you did to Leona-senpai, huh?
Ruggie: besides the point.
Daisy: Ruggie, isn't this painting depicting that story you told me about? The ones about the dogs sharing spaghetti?
Ruggie: Oh, that one, yeah! I didn't know they actually painted the scene, who would've thought.
Daisy: They're so adorable, I see now how romantic this is.
Ruggie: I guess? It's still just spaghetti…not only that but it's outside in the middle of the night. I guess for dogs it would be cool but for people? I’d honestly just be excited because it's free food.
Daisy: Oh, come on now! This is super romantic! It's a candlelight dinner under the night sky!
Daisy: If someone did that for me, I know I’d be pretty happy and satisfied.
Ruggie: You’re just trying to convince me to ask you on a date, aren't you?
Daisy: …
Ruggie: Should’ve figured, shishishi!
Daisy: You can't blame a girl for trying, I’ve been pretty lonely these past few weeks since you’ve been working more than usual.
Daisy: But jokes aside, this right here is already enough. I’m already way less lonely just by walking around this museum with you, it's practically a date!
Ruggie: I don't think a date would consist of everyone from our school coming with us…
Daisy: You get what I mean…
Ruggie: Tell you what, once we get back I’m cooking us both some spaghetti and lighting some candles if that's what you’d like.
Ruggie: If my flower is feeling lonely then I better give her a proper date so she can feel loved, right?
Daisy: You really don't have to… but thanks. I would love to.
Ruggie: Ah, this one's actually a very famous painting, I’ve seen pictures of it around quite often.
Daisy: R-Really…?
Ruggie: What? You don't believe me?
Ruggie: It ties with Sunset Savannah’s history and with The King of Beasts’s story!
Daisy: Well, forgive me for not understanding the historical significance of a monkey holding a lion cub…
Ruggie: *sigh* Alright. Lemme explain.
Ruggie: This is a ceremony often done by members of royalty when a new child from the royal family is born.
Ruggie: It goes so far back even the lions from The King of Beasts’s story did that. They basically present the baby to everyone else in the kingdom… it's kinda hard to explain.
Daisy: Oh, I get it now!
Daisy: I see why it's so famous, seeing how it portrays an aspect of the royalty of Sunset Savannah.
Ruggie: Eh… I never went to one, as you can imagine.
Daisy: Never? Is it not open to the common folk?
Ruggie: Well yeah, but back when there was one for who I now know is Leona-san's nephew, I was trying to survive.
Ruggie: I didn't have the time to go to a ceremony just to watch a new baby I didn't care about being presented to the whole kingdom.
Ruggie: I’d learn about him regardless, so I just didn't care much.
Daisy: I guess that makes sense.
Daisy: Still, it must be super interesting to see it happening. How cute would it be to see a baby cub being shown to the entire world just like that, hahah!
Ruggie: Ah– sorry, before I got here I told Leona-san I’d go fetch something for him at the cafeteria in a few minutes… if I don't go now he’s gonna be pissed.
Daisy: Why didn't you tell me sooner?!
Ruggie: Well, ya know– it's impossible to resist spending time with you~
Daisy: Alright there, Romeo, enough! Go before he gets upset. I'll be looking around this area for a while more if you want to come back.
Ruggie: *sigh* ‘kay, I'll be off then!
Daisy: Hm? Ah, this is another painting of Cendrillon.
Daisy: She looks so much free... I'm happy she got her happy ending.
#💌! mah writes#💌! daisy#💌! daiggie#twisted wonderland#twst#oc x canon#twst oc#twst yuu#yuu twisted wonderland#ruggie bucchi x yuu#twisted wonderland ruggie
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So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--
Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).
BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:
Wednesday (before the end of the world)
So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.
But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.
The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.
SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.
But like-- still not friends. Not really.
Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:
Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock.
The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork.
Aziraphale blinked.
A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden.
Aziraphale looked embarrassed.
Then a cream cake hit him in the face.
My teenage brain exploded at this moment.
BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.
Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).
Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.
But Crowley was looking the other way.
Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.
But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".
And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:
With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.
SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--
It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.
Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.
...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.
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Husband Lord Dimitrescu
✘- Author's Note: I've been wanting to do these for a while the Lord Dimitrescu artwork belongs to MetalLoveCake. I've decided to finally post some Lord Dimitrescu content. It's 3am for me but I have insomnia and can't really sleep so why not just put out something new. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡
✘- Story Contains: Blood, Sucking Blood, Husband Lord Dimitrescu, female reader, Romance, Fluff, Smutty shit, The author is a virgin, & cute moments.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to tease you for being a human. You are so tiny and fragile that it's funny. But he would never hurt you. He's quite gentle with you and doesn't like to cause you any harm. He's very cautious when you both sleep in bed, he doesn't want to roll over and crush you like he did last time. Even with his claws he has to remind you not to touch them because he doesn't want you to cut yourself.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to spoil you. You are his beautiful rose. And he wants his beautiful rose to always look beautiful. So he gets you the best outfits, jewelry, and anything you want. Sometimes he doesn't understand the things you request but he happily gets it for you. He also spoils you in affection; loves to give you kisses all the time. Whenever you two are together he will give a passionate kiss, he doesn't care who is around.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who likes when you play with his hair. He doesn't want to cut it for that reason. He loves when you scratch his head or run your fingers through his hair. He also loves it when you scratch his back because one time he couldn't reach his back and thought it was a good idea to use his claws. Poor man sat on your guys bed while hissing and cussing while you tending to marks on his back now he knows how his victims felt when he sliced them.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to eat you out like you are the last meal on earth. He loves watching you squirm while his tongue draws along your wet cunt. How his tongue slips in and out of your cunt. Even if you already had came, oh he's not done with you because he wants your legs to tremble even if he's done he wants your cunt to feel like his tongue is still there. He loves to bite down on your soft squishy thighs to taste your blood and leaves marks. He does the same with your breasts. Lord Dimitrescu is a large man and not just in height. He has to make sure that you are prepared before he fills you up with his hot load. (Kill me.)
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who gives you the best after care. He'll have his servants change the sheets while the two of you take a bath. He'll praise you and tell you how good you did, how sweet you tasted, and how much he loves you. He'll get you into some cozy pajamas then grab you some water, gotta stay hydrated. If you are hungry, he'll get you a meal. After all that is done he'll cuddle with you in bed and sing you nice song. He'll admire your beauty while you sleep and eventually fall asleep himself holding you.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who has three sons Cass, Daniel, and Beu. Of course you are their step mother and yes they love you. They always wanted a mother, seeing human children having loving mothers, reading books on loving mothers, and those movies and shows with loving mothers. Oh, it made them crave a mother, so they were over joyed when their father said that he was marrying you. Whenever Lord Dimitrescu is busy with paperwork or with Father Miran. The boys are always with you. One time Lord Dimitrescu came home late and didn't see you in the bedroom. He looked around and eventually found you in the room in Cass's bed along with Daniel and Beu all three boys are cuddling you. As you had a story book since you read them a bedtime story. Lord Dimitrescu chuckled he could survive one night with out you, he threw a blanket over you and the boys then left the room.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who drinks your blood with permission. He doesn't take much but whenever he does, he makes sure that you drink and eat something. He likes the taste of your blood and only drinks whenever he wants a "snack" it used to hurt but you have gotten used to it. The only time you have tasted your own blood is whenever you and him have engaged in your sexual acts in passionate kissing.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who hates when you cry, who made you cry? Lord Dimitrescu is definitely going to kill them especially if they physically hurt you. You have seen Lord Dimitrescu kill people for experimenting or just for fun. But seeing Lord Dimitrescu enraged while killing was a sight. He eventually calms down because he doesn't want to scare you. Now if you are crying because you are upset or feel self conscious. Lord Dimitrescu will sit down and hold you on his lap. He'll tell you how important, beautiful, smart, and amazing you are. He'll pick up a mirror and want you to say self affirms to yourself. He never wants you to tear yourself down.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who feels bad whenever he has to cancel plans because of meetings with Father Miran. He hates the has to cancel plans you both had. But Father Miran will be up Alban's ass if he doesn't attend those meetings or assist him in experiments. But Alban Dimitrescu will make it up by taking you to expensive place or do whatever you want him to do.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who doesn't mind if you want a child. Especially if it means you and him can make the baby. Of course he'll plan it with you especially since you are a human and he's giant fucking vampire. The boys are excited to have a little sister or brother. They even bicker over what the gender will be. Father Miran is interested upon hearing this, you and Alban having a baby? How wonderful, definitely wants to see the outcome.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who is thrilled when you give birth to a healthy baby girl. She looks just like you and him. The boys are happy to see their little sister. Lord Dimitrescu tells the boys to leave the room so you can rest. Lord Dimitrescu will take care of the baby while you rest. You both named her Dawn. Lord Dimitrescu is protective of the baby, while you are recovering from having to give birth. Lord Dimitrescu is taking care of the baby, he doesn't trust the servants. But whenever he needs to rest or work. You assure him that the servants will care for the child.
✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who eventually turns you into a vampire. You waited because you wanted to know more about vampires, you also thought about your friends and family. Lord Dimitrescu made sure to guide you while he turned you. He is glad that you joined him and the kids in immortality. Of course he makes sure that you and him have the best blood especially you. He is impressed how much you learned about vampires.
That's all
#lord dimitrescu#lord dimitrescu x reader#vampires#vampire#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#monster smut#smut#vampire smut#lord dimitrescu smut#lord dimitrescu x female reader
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OK HEAR ME OUT! Reader who is a single mother of one of Aizawa’s students X Aizawa???? PLEASE I need it!
IM IN LOVE WITH YOU YES OMG I NEED THIS anon im giving you kisses rn
Aizawa x fem!reader (also your denki's mom bc why not)
A small sigh escapes your lips as you pull into the parking lot of your son's school, it's still early in the year and his teacher has requested to meet with you.
He doesn't even have to explain why you're here because you already have a good idea: Denki's grades.
You smooth out your skirt and double check that your blouse is buttoned all the way. Security stopped you at the gate which took around ten minutes to defuse, they honestly thought you looked too young to be anyone's mother.
Thirty-two is a bit young to have a fifteen year old but you know how it goes: unprotected sex = baby. It's the same old story, your boyfriend freaked out and dipped on you.
It made you proud Denki got into a school like this, your goal is for him to further his education... something you never got the chance to do.
Finding his classroom was a whole other situation. UA is HUGE. So poor you is walking around every corner looking for class "1-A".
"Are you lost?" A voice loud and energetic asked, it caused you to jump in your skin. When you turn your head you see blond hair sticking upward toward the ceiling and a pair of goofy shades. He notices your giggle and quirks an eyebrow.
"Are you a new student?!" The blond questions, his face is full of energy and excitement.
"No.. do I really look that young?" You ask, smile bright.
"You do look pretty young." As soon as he says that it dawns on him that you might be a younger mother.
"Ah- sorry! I just-"
"Don't worry about it. I was actually looking for class 1-A, my son's teacher requested to meet with me." His eyes widen.
"Don't you worry, I can take you to Eraserhead's class!" With that you follow him down a flight of stairs and you guys turn like four corners. Well damn, you were way off.
You had been too caught up into your thoughts to realize he stopped, you bumped right into him.
"Sorry." He gives you a soft smile, "It's nothing!"
He knocks loudly, "Oh, Eraser! You have a visitor!" The blond doesn't even wait for a response to open the door, he just bursts in.
"Well I've gotta go now! Take care Miss..."
"L/n, the name's L/n." A thumbs up is sent your way before the loud blond man leaves.
A deep voice causes your brain to stir, "Thank you for coming on such a short notice, Miss L/n."
And what the fuck because Denki's teacher has beautiful long black hair, stubble, and a little scar under his right eye. He must be married you assume, because no way a handsome man like him is single.
You respond with confidence in your voice, "Of course, I apologize for keeping you waiting. I got lost."
His face softens as he motions for you to sit on the chair he's placed by his desk.
"Understandable, UA is not small. Let's get down to business, shall we?" He sits at his desk, organizing some papers before handing you a few. You feared the worst, Denki always strived to do his best so you shouldn't have anything to even fear.
"My students have been under attack a few times by villians, we've spoke to the board about the situation, because parents are worried about their children." You were relieved this had nothing to do with his grades but it scared you that villians were out for high schoolers.
"I thought the attacks stopped." Aizawa nods at you.
"They have for the time being but we fear they won't completely stop, which is why UA is building a dormitory system to keep students safe. What I've handed you is the consent form for your son to live on campus. It's not manditory but it is highly suggested." He explains to you and you read the pages.
"How do I know Denki will be in good hands?" You ask biting your lip, it doesn't go unnoticed by Aizawa because his eyes flicker to your lips then back up to your face.
"I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you, which is why I put so much effort and care into my students, they may say and think otherwise but they don't see what happens behind the scenes." You could tell his words were sincere, it wasn't convincing enough though. You worry too much about him and just the mere thought of losing him is enough to scare you.
Aizawa leans in to place a hand on yours, it feels tingly.
"I know all you have is my word to go off of, but I promise you I will protect your son and all my other students with my life." His eyes burn into yours. You get lost in those beautiful black eyes.
"Uh- hah. I'll look over the papers."
In the end you sign the papers.
"Mom you have to tell me who's taking you to dinner!" Denki says for the millionth time over the phone. You call him almost every night to check in on him.
"It's none of your business, young man." You'd tell him when you were ready. Just... not now. He'd freak out if he knew you were going out to dinner with his teacher.
Before you left that day, Aizawa asked for your number. You happily gave it to him, there was no way in hell you'd miss out on a chance like that.
After a month of just talking (and flirting) he asked you out for dinner, you agreed of course.
"But mommmmmm why nottttttt?" Denki whined.
"I'll tell you when we're ready. Anyways I have to go. Take care, sweetheart." He sighs but tells you he loves you. "I love you too, Denki." He hangs up, leaving you to finish your makeup.
The plan was originally to meet at dinner, but Aizawa was not letting up until you agreed that he could pick you up.
Your hands were starting to sweat again. It's normal to be this nervous, right? Dating hadn't really been in your line of vision while raising a child. It seemed to be the same process: go out with someone, get along nicely, start developing real feelings, they find out you have a son, they leave.
It seemed refreshing to finally go out with someone who knew you were raising a young man. Waiting it out seems to have been the right choice. Aizawa is a mature man.
The door bell rings and you shoot up out of your seat like a rocket.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck, I look okay right?" It felt weird to ask your reflection, but self love is everything these days.
Your burgundy v cut dress was a bit on the short side, it hugged your body which made you a little insecure. You'd heard some women say pregnancy made them glow. You were convinced otherwise, it took you some time to finally feel beautiful.
Your walk to the door was dreadful, what if he takes it all back? Upon opening the door he was standing there in all his beauty. His raven colored hair was put up in a messy bun, his stubble cleaned up some, and he looked a little less tired. Your eyes inched down his body, he's wearing a white button up and black slacks.
"You're beautiful." The two of you say at the same time. Your eyes widen.
"Thank you, I was actually kind of nervous." His face softens at your words. The hero holds his hand out so you can take it. Just like the last time his hand was warm and made you feel tingly. You chuckled at how dumb that sounded, definitely sounds like something from a cheesy romance novel.
Dinner was a little awkward but beyond amazing. A waitress spilled wine on you, she apologized like a million times. You weren't mad though, having a son meant many messes were made... especially on you. The wine didn't stain that bad because of your dress color.
Aizawa offered you the jacket he kept in his car. Accepting it was a no brainer. He held it out for you and you gave him a confused look.
"I'll put it on you, come here." His voice was low and seductive. He noticed your smile. "You're so cute." He whispers as you put your arms in the jacket sleeves.
"Only cute?" Your question was followed by your signature smirk. The food was paid for, his hand wrapped around your waist and he walked you two to his car.
"Sexy, funny, chatty.... I could go on." He says with a smug smile.
"Oh stop it, I'm not sexy-" You don't get to finish your sentence, Aizawa twirls you around so you guys are facing each other. His hands rest on your hips for a second and in a flash he's cupping your face.
Your heart started beating a mile per minute... no second. He slowly pulls you in, those lazy eyes looking into yours. His lips look so kissable.
You pucker your lips and he presses his lips to yours, there weren't any fireworks or sparks like in Disney movies, it felt like he was one with you. Your body was connected to his in a way.
When the kiss is over he's staring at you, "you are sexy, I don't know who's lied to you."
__________
When he pulls into your driveway, you realize this date is almost over. Hopefully he'll agree to going out again. He seemed to enjoy the night as much as you did.
He walked you up to your door, eyes trained on you.
Your feet stop on your doormat. It felt like you were stuck in cement.
"Will I be seeing you again, Aizawa?"
"Call me Shota, and yes, I'll be seeing you again." He faces you and kisses you again. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.
"Call me." You say and he hums in acknowledgement.
Maybe... trying again at dating won't hurt you.
Hiii anon, I hope you like this!! I don't think this has been my best work but I think it shouldn't be that bad? Lol imagine how Denki would react when he finds out you're with his teacher. Love you guys, working on Teacher's Assistant ch. 1
#bnha#mha#aizawa#aizawa shōta#aizawa shouta#aizawa x reader#shota aizawa x reader#aizawa shota x reader#shouta aizawa#mha aizawa#shota aizawa#aizawa shouta x reader
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Always a man, a city, and a lighthouse...
"Robin, Red Robin, stay back for a minute," Batman said as he dismissed everyone for patrol. "I have a new mission for you. Dozens of civilians have gone missing around the decommissioned Gotham City Lighthouse." A few clicks and the Batcomputer displayed a map of the Upper West Side, a highlight on the lighthouse. "I want you both to investigate the building. Everyone who's gone missing entered the lighthouse, but nothing has been found by the police. I suspect that the lighthouse is being used for gun smuggling, but we need more information.
"That's where you two come in."
Or, I've been reading too much of @virgamsysxvolumes 's Lucky Rush AU, and wanted a true Bioshock AU for dc x dp.
Underneath the city, in the vast and endless caverns beneith Gotham, lies the subterranean city of Amity. Amity was the pet project of the mad scientist couple, the Drs. Fenton, to investigate the effects of ectoplasm on humans, but with the help of their best friend, Vlad Masters, they transformed Amity into a Technocracy City filled with scientists, and completely lacking in morals.
Or at least, that's how it was ten years ago, before the creation of Plasm (the Adam replacement), a neon green goo that's basically meth that gives you superpowers. Everyone from the top scientists to the lower working class starting doping on Plasm, which gave people the ability to control fire, create hallucinogenic spores, summon bats, etc. Vlad, the mayor, was deposed in a cue let by the Fentons and the city descended into anarchy, with people from the surface getting lured down from the lighthouse so they can continue their experiments.
The Fentons are 100% not good people in this. Jack is in charge of all the technological advances in Amity, while Maddie has created human/ghost hybrids--the Little Sisters of the story--that can naturally harvest ectoplasm from dead bodies to use for experiments. Once everyone's hooked on Plasm, the Little Sisters are in danger from acting Splicers, so she creates Big Daddies to protect them.
Danny is the only Little Brother, and Jazz is the only Big Sister. Vlad turned them both into monsters as revenge against the Fentons for the cue, but the couple didn't really care, with Jack barely acknowledging he has children, and Maddie acting like they were never turned into monsters to begin with. Not sure about ages... Jazz is probably the same as her canon age, but if Danny is still 14, he looks 10, tiny and malnourished and pale.
Tim and Damian are trapped in Amity after an automatic system determines them as good test subjects. The AI filters out any cops, so that's why the police never found anything. The elavator brings them down into the city, showing a sweeping shot of neon in the darkness of the caves, and the boys figure out pretty quickly something is blocking their calls.
Tim gets super injured early on. I think, a Jack Fenton booby trap (that exclaims that it's a Jack Fenton Booby Trap moments before activating, which should be funny, but isn't when death lasers are being launched at him.). Damian gets captured, and that's when Tim is contacted by Vlad, who is our Atlas stand in for the game, only Tim immediately realizes that this man is sketchy af.
But unfortunately, in order to rescue Damian, Tim has to splice himself with Plasm. Maybe its for fire-wielding, or telekinesis but Tim can't get to wherever Damian is being held and, while torn, splices himself to save Damian.
Damian was kidnapped because his exposure to Lazirus Waters made a Big Daddy think he was a Little Sister, so it brought him back to the Casper Academy, which is where Little Sisters drop their harvests off in the care of William Lancer. Lancer looks after the girls because Maddie Fenton is too busy, but it's against his will despite him caring for them all. He's trapped in the building, can't leave or he dies. He's actually relieved to know that Vlad is still alive and trusts him, because to Lancer he was just a good mayor who was overthrown and the Fentons are the real bad guys, just look what they did to their kids!
This is where the batkids first learn about Danny and Jazz, although they don't meet them until a while after this. Danny actually ends up being the one leaving Plasm out for Tim every time he rescues a Little Sister. (Sidenote, they end up killing people while in Amity. While both do have death counts, the problem with Amity is that they have to use stronger and stronger levels of force to get people to go down, leading them to escalating and killing quite a few).
Lancer points them to communications to get their comms working again, and that area is run by Damon Grey.
At some point after comms are back on, the two learn that Red Hood actually came in after them after hours of no communication and has been captured by Maddie Fenton, who intends to turn him into a Big Daddy.
In late story, it's revealed that Jack Fenton was murdered before the cue even happened, and that the Jack Fenton they'd been communicating with the entire time was an AI assistant created by living Jack to keep his work going. The cue was actually retaliation from Maddie and the Jack AI for murdering Jack.
The story would eventually end with Tim, Damian, and Jason freeing all the Little Sisters along with Danny and Jazz.
#dc x dp#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc#bioshock au#bad parents jack and maddie#c: tim drake#c: damian wayne#c: danny fenton#c: jazz fenton#c: vlad masters#c: maddie fenton#c: jack fenton#c: bruce wanye#c: william lancer#c: damon grey#badass jazz fenton#child danny fenton#meta tim drake#c: jason todd#dc crossover#dp crossover#tw: child abuse#tw: human experimentation#tw: murder#i've never written batman before and you can tell#i just wanted a genuine steampunk bioshock au#let my babies be unhinged and grapple with their identities as human beings
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Just a Mirror
Sam Winchester x plus size!Reader
Words: about 6.3k words
Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy time, eating disorder, hating on your own person, please be careful if you sensible about this themes
REQUEST: Hi :) I saw that your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could do a Sam Winchester x plus sized reader; an angsty fluffy friends to lovers that has some smut and reader hating herself in the mirror and possibly problems with eating
Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you @desicroft02 so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea love and I hope you like how it came out, if you don't find yourself with what i wrote, feel free to say it to me and I'll write to you a new one !
p.s.I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. I was never the skinny girl, but with the years I've grown used to feel different to others girls, and even if sometimes I really hate what I see in the mirror, I kinda arrived to the point that I see both the flaws and the strenghts of my body and I love both, but some of my closest friend and this kinda of disorder and I tried to help them the way aI could so this one is for them too.
In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.
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Why?
This is the only question that floats in your mind, while, with thick tears in your eyes, you try to read the enormous book about whatever monster you are hunting with your friends in this little city, forgotten by God.
You and your childhood best friends are hunting some monster that you still haven't been able to figure out what it is, despite the fact that you are reading yet another list of monstrous animals in the story, while Dean and Sam are still out at the bar where you had decided to spend the evening, and from which you had decided to escape as quickly as possible, without giving any kind of explanation to the two hunters, holding back tears and trying not to meet their confused gaze
You and the boys have been friends since you were six and they were seven and eleven. You met on a rainy October day when you were still living at Bobby's house, after your father had died in a hunting accident after leaving you with him, and being his friend and seeing him almost as a brother he couldn't help but welcome you and raise you as if you were his own daughter.
Dean and Sam had just been left in the rain on the narrow dirt road by their father when you looked out and saw these two cold, sad, and at the same time angry children. You could see the resentment they felt for the man who looked less and less like a father and more and more like an army general, ready to train soldiers and not raise children. Immediately you went to Bobby and told him of the presence of those two unknown children who were in your driveway. He had immediately run to get them and brought them inside the house, worried that they would get sick from standing in the rain, and wondering why their father had left them there, without saying anything.
"He said he didn't have time to explain and that he had to get there as fast as he could, but that he would call you this evening." Said the older of the two once they were seated on the couch in what must once have been a beautiful dining room, and was now more like an ever-growing mountain of books. It is to your adoptive father that you owe all the culture and ability to read texts on the supernatural that most hunters would not even know how to open.
As he spoke you could see the blond child trying to hold back the sadness within himself and show himself as a big boy, almost pretending to understand why his father abandoned them like that without saying a word; in contrast, the one who was supposed to be the smaller of the two, with unruly brown hair, looked more like a beaten puppy, as he wetly moved his feet lazily on the floor, listening to what his brother had to say, but not hiding his sadness and anger at his daddy's decision.
"Baby, couldn't you get Sammy a glass of water for him while Dean and I go make a call for a minute?" Bobby then asked you suddenly, and you realized that you were lost in thought as you watched and studied those boys. You nodded quickly, trying not to let it show that you had spent all that time staring at them, as you heard Bobby's voice and that of the blond boy, apparently named Dean, drift away, only to hear the front door open and close.
After a few minutes you returned to the living room with a glass in your hand, and walked over to the brown-eyed boy, who was now looking at you and smiling shyly. You handed him the glass with a beaming smile, and he could do nothing but blush a little and retract his body a little, letting shyness take possession of him as he took the glass.
"Thank you." He told you in a faint voice.
"You're welcome." You replied as you sat next to him on the sofa.
"My name is Sam." He said, only to freeze and blush again as he held out a hand for you to shake, just as grown-ups do. You told him your name, and he commented that it was a very nice name, and that he liked it a lot, before going back to being silent and staring into the sad void.
You not being able to see what you considered a new friend feel so bad, you shamelessly asked him why his father had left him there and if that was why he was sad. He turned to look at you, and unknown how, he burst into tears, while with his hands he covered his face, not wanting to be seen as weak with someone he had just met, but you didn't give a damn.
Immediately you hugged him and listened to him talk about how his father was behaving with them, how his brother was struggling more and more to hide that he was tired of his parent's behavior, and how he was lonely and sad, constantly changing towns and seeing nothing but his family. That poor seven-year-old seemed to be thirty years old because of the problems he was telling you about, and as much as you were even younger because you were only six, you felt like you could understand him, because for a while that had also been your life before your father passed away.
You remained thus cuddled on the couch and fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire slightly away from you and the new friendly presence that had entered your lives that afternoon, so much so that when Bobby and Dean returned after trying for a varied amount of time to contact John, and finally once succeeding in being insulted and put down by him, they both smiled at the sight of those two small and defenseless children embracing each other, as if to protect each other from the world. But no one knew that night before you fell asleep you had promised to protect each other forever, no matter how, when or why you would always be there for each other.
That was how you got to know the Winchester brothers, and the hatred for their father also began.
You awaken from your thoughts when you hear the motel door open and close, realizing that another time had gone into the whirlwind of memories and you were lost in remembering again when life was easy. You hear someone coming toward you with heavy footsteps, so you wipe away the tears you didn't know were there on your cheeks, which like small streams had almost made a furrow along your skin by now.
You sense right away who it is, but you don't have the strength to turn around so you continue to cry silently as you feel two arms wrapped around you, and Dean's warm body resting on your back as he leans down so that he can put his head in the crook of your neck and hold you better. Ever since the two of you met it was immediately like big brother and little sister between the two of you, and even now despite the fact that it has been a long time since you were children and in your spare time you enjoyed stealing cherries from the neighbor's tree, there is still that complicity and understanding between the two of you that once existed.
He knows exactly why you escaped so suddenly from the dive bar you were both in a few hours ago. Sam had seen a beautiful girl, the classic cover model of some magazine, slim and with all her shape in the right place, taking a drink at the bar, looking seductively at him as she put the drink straw between her lips. Sam's hormones had not let him repeat twice that clear call to fuck directly in the bar's bathroom, a bathroom from which you were coming out as he was sticking his tongue down the throat of that fake and at the same time perfect babe, who in his arms looked so small and yet in the right place, toned against his strong muscles, as opposed to how you would have looked with your shapely body. You couldn't stand there and watch the boy you love for so long now make out with someone else, so without explanation you left and went back to the motel where you took two bedrooms for the case. Usually you take two rooms only when Dean wanted to find someone to take to bed, unlike Sam who kept his sex life much more private than his brother, but since he and Cas had come out a few months ago you had not taken the second room, having practically grown up together and thus having no problem sharing space. That night, however, when you had arrived in the small town Sam had insisted on taking a second room, and stubbornly had not told his older brother why when he had asked him, and somehow your heart was preparing for what would happen, but in fact nothing would totally prepare you for what you would see in that bar and how your heart would break.
Dean squeezes you tightly, as if he is afraid you will disappear at any moment, and that heartfelt squeeze only makes you break the weak dam you had built when you saw him come in, and you burst into endless weeping.
"I know baby, I know." That's all the blond man can manage to say to you, as he gets you up and carries you toward the bed, so you can lie down and take off your shoes, before coming close to you and holding you in his arms, until exhausted, you fall asleep safe in Dean's strong hold, while he whispers soothing words to you.
The next morning you wake up with the sun gently caressing your face from over Dean's shoulder. You smile for a second, imagining what it would be like to wake up in the other Winchester's arms, and soon after your heart, as if pierced by an arrow, bleeds at the memory of what happened last night. You get up, shifting your friend's arms, and go to the bathroom to wash and freshen up, when you hear the door to your room open, and a male voice, known even too well, shout to your still sleeping friend.
"Dean, wake up!" Sam yells, and you behind the door hold a hand over your heart, just imagining her beauty after her usual morning run to stay in shape. Her long dark hair tied back in a light bun, her forehead sweaty and muscles still tense from exertion.
"I'm awake, you asshole." Dean replies, as you hear him get up and go get some coffee. "You could have deigned to make less noise last damn night, you know there were people here who wanted to sleep."
You hear Sam snort at his brother's words, then respond to him in an aggressive, cold tone.
"Well then there are people who wouldn't want to see you run off to fuck wherever we go, hold hands all the time or make love wherever you are. And you know something else too Dean, I thought you were a better person. Why her? Come on you've had a lot of girls, and it wouldn't cost you anything to find a thousand more, why did you have to choose her!?" Says the younger brother, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.
You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as you feel yourself lacking oxygen. You feel tears coming to your eyes, but you try with all your strength to push them back down. You take a few minutes to control your emotions as all you want to do is fall to the floor on your knees and scream until you can't hear yourself anymore, but you stay strong and open the door to see Dean immediately in front of you, looking pained and guilty, seeing your state.
"You didn't tell him." You say in a calm, quiet voice, not asking, but stating that your best friend had not told about his new relationship with our angel friend.
"I never found the right time." Dean tries to say, then looks down. "I never had the courage, every time I seemed to miss the words."
"Sam would never judge you, and you know that." You say as you feel a pang inside your heart, remembering the words the man you love had used a few minutes earlier. You feel your clothes sticking to your body like glue, too tight, so tight that you feel as if they have pre torn. You feel how the floor gives way under your feet, you feel how a billion eyes are on you ready to judge you, you feel something inside you break, but you can't let anyone but yourself see how mere words have hurt you, so you grit your teeth and continue to look at Dean stoically, as you feel a single and only tear escape down your face.
"I know, but I'm afraid in the same way, I don't want it to end like last time." Dean confesses, still looking at the floor, but crying clearly, as his words take you back to when you were nothing more than kids and he had come crying to you one night, confessing that he had fallen in love with a boy he had met during his last case, and that his father after finding out had beaten him so badly that his scars remained, and had forced him to watch pornographic movies, reminding him how "a real man acts." No one had ever seen you as angry as Dean, and Bobby when he heard you scream and came to watch that night as you swore to heaven that you would kill John Winchester. Dean had never told Sam about that episode, not wanting to worry him since he had just run away to study at Stanford, and asked you to do the same. It has been so long since that night, yet the memory of that pain and that man still frightens the wonderful person in front of you.
"But I swear I will. He has no right to think such things about you! I-I will tell him-" He begins to say, as he tries to wipe away the tears running copiously down his face. You, moved in turn and knowing that like you he too was remembering that fateful evening, take his face in your hands and bring his eyes to gaze fixedly into yours.
"No, you won't do it now, you will do it when you feel like it." You comment chuckling as you caress his face. He looks at you unconvinced and you see his inner battle inside whether to accept your proposal or to be as always too good and allow the world to kick him in the balls.
"Please be selfish for once. And if I serve as your cover, so be it, not that I would have had any chance with him anyway." You continue, smiling at him as you feel your heart slowly shatter. You see Dean ready to retort, but you have already disappeared back into the bathroom, crying silently. Once the bathroom door is closed, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and realize how disgusted you feel about your body.
There is not a single thing about you that you like: your thighs, your arms, your stomach, your chest.
The more you look at yourself, the more you want to break that all-too-truthful mirror, which tells an unfiltered reality, a sad truth that for so long you had tried to ignore, but which now that Sam had spit it in your face you could no longer pretend not to see. So you decide at this very moment that everything was going to change, you don't know how, but it was going to happen.
So weeks go by, Sam still won't talk to you, and slowly you continue to sink into the stupid realization that he doesn't because only he, like you, can really see your body, and that he hates you for it, so now convinced that you have to change your body to be loved, you begin to eat less and less and more rarely, and what little you put in your mouth to make Dean happy, who sees you getting sadder and more tired, is rejected from your stomach just moments later when no one is looking at you. This situation hurts your body and your heart, but you do it so that you can look at yourself in the mirror without wanting to punch him, but things seem to get worse and worse. You look at yourself and you never fit, before you saw a body you didn't like, now beyond that you see a person you don't like.
Dean is getting more and more worried about you, seeing you getting paler and paler and thinner, but every time he tries to talk to you, you put on a smile and pretend that everything is going well and that the only reason your shirts now look huge on you is that you are working out more, but he knows that you never liked sports and that is why he knows you are lying to him. He tried to talk to Sam about what was going on, but all his brother managed to say by pouting was that if he needed relationship advice to go somewhere else and that he didn't want anything to do with the two of you.
Dean was on the verge of smashing the plate he was holding in his face and yelling at him to open his eyes and see that you love him more than Dean does right now and that he is fucking in love with their favorite angel, but then he had seen Castiel's face and knew he couldn't let him down after he asked him to keep a low profile and let as few people as possible know about their relationship.
Dean had never felt so lousy as deciding between the love of his life and a friend in need, but he knew that if you found out what he had done you would insult him, so he played it cool and moved on, as if nothing had happened, while he continued to try to take care of you, with little success.
It's been almost a month since Sam had said those horrible things, and you're not getting worse and worse, but in order not to show it in front of your friends, you keep doing the same things as before, trying to have the same cheerfulness.
You are now hunting a werewolf in a remote town in a state you don't even remember. Your body is weak, you haven't eaten anything Dean has brought you in the last three days taken at the various fast food restaurants and bars he had found along the way, and what little you had put in your mouth had gone down the drain shortly thereafter, hating yourself just for having the idea that you could eat something. You feel your eyelids as heavy as shutters, the muscles in your body are nonexistent, and what few are left ache from the mere effort of standing and walking, while your head throbs incessantly.
In this you are scouting around where the last victims had been killed, to see if you can find any more information, but so far you have not had much success, so you decided to split up.
You are barely holding the flashlight in your hand, too heavy for you, when you feel a sudden dizziness that forces you to lean against the wall. You stay a few minutes trying to catch your breath, eyes closed, breathing in the cool night air around you, when you hear a noise coming from a short distance away from you, like a dog growling. With difficulty you open your eyes and see before you a sight that is frightening to say the least: the werewolf you were looking for is looking at you ravenously, while a dark laughter rumbles from his belly to his mouth. Quickly you try to pick up the phone to call Dean or Sam, but unfortunately your mind is so clouded that you can't even do simple things like this and the phone slips out of your hands to the monster's feet.
"The Winchesters' little friend!" He says, seeing who you were trying to contact. "I've heard a lot about you, among the monsters you are known as their true weakness: so small and helpless, you wouldn't even survive my bite, I'll do you a favor and eat your miserable heart." He continues as he gets closer, and you do whatever comes to your chin at this moment, as you feel death coming slowly but comfortingly too, like an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. You scream Sam and Dean's name as loud as you can, hoping that at least one of them can hear you, your lungs aching from how much breath you had to use and your throat burning from the effort as you feel your strength failing.
You lean back against the wall again, this time with your back, and let yourself slide down to the floor, as your vision goes completely black and your ears become plugged as when you go too deep underwater, and the world seems more and more distant. You have one last flicker of life before you pass out completely in that dark alley, at the mercy of that monster, and you hear Sam's voice call out your name for a moment.
Your heart loses a beat, and then completely dark.
You awaken with a jump and a gasp as you sit up on the bed on which someone has carried you. Your head immediately begins to spin like a spinning top, and your vision fails again as you feel a warm hand settle on your shoulder and bring you back to lie down.
"Relax, you're safe now. It's okay." Says in a low, soft tone a rough voice, leading back to Sam. You, shocked to know he is there next to you, open your eyes with difficulty and find yourself lying on the bed in your room, in the bunker, as you see him kneeling beside your bed. His face shows the weariness he feels, but in his eyes shines a strange hope as he looks at you mixed with sadness. You place your gaze on the rest of the room and see your favorite chair, where you usually sit to read your books or do your research when you are tired of sitting in the library, covered with blankets and pillows, making you realize that your favorite giant has been sleeping there for what seems to be even more than a couple of days, otherwise everything looks the same, unchanged, and strangely everything now seems to make more sense with the presence of Sam and some of his things in the room. Immediately you slap yourself in the face at that thought, reminding yourself that he hates you, and that the reason he is here is because Dean will have had better things to do than watch you sleep.
You're about to tell him that he can leave, and leave you alone, knowing that he doesn't even want to be in the same room with you, as he has shown recently, and that in case his brother asks you, you won't tell him, but he beats you to the punch and starts talking.
"First of all I want to say I'm sorry, you don't even know how much, and I certainly understand if you never forgave me in your life, because I wouldn't forgive myself." Sam says, as you see tears forming in his eyes. You try to stop him, confused as to why he was making that speech, but he stops you in turn and begs you to let him finish.
"We found you just in time, by "luck," if you can call it that, that asshole had decided to torture you a bit before eating your heart, and we got there before he could do it, but when Cas touched you to treat you he said he didn't know if you would survive anyway because your body was too weak since you hadn't eaten for too many days. Dean insulted me and even beat me up a bit before explaining the matter from his point of view." You can't help but widen your eyes, and Sam chuckles seeing your expression, as two tears run down his face, and he darkens a little again before continuing, without looking you in the eye.
"Yes, he also told me about Cas, and also about that affair with our father to make me understand why you decided to cover for him."
You close your eyes for a moment, expecting a series of insults, but you only feel his lips rest on your hand, so you open them again and see him leaning over the bed, as you feel his tears coming hot to contact your cold hand.
"Thank you." The boy confesses in a whisper. "Thank you for everything you did for Dean, thank you for always taking care of him when I couldn't or was too blind and stupid to, I don't deserve to have you in my life."
You can't find the words, and so you do the only thing you can think of this moment, and you take his hand and squeeze it, while barely smiling at him.
"We will always have helped each other, you remember. Then Dean will be your brother, but it's like he's my brother too." You say as you pull his face up and force him to look into your eyes. You see him cry even harder, a few sobs escaping his lips, as he squeezes your hand even tighter.
"I'm sorry, I promised I would always protect you, and instead I was so stupid and jealous that I didn't realize what I was doing." He tells you again, only to stop for a moment and look at you this time with a resolve he lacked until a few seconds ago. "Why did you stop eating? How come you covered your mirror in the bathroom? Dean found the remains of the one from before in the garage, thought you didn't like it and got a new one, so he changed it for you."
Immediately you remember, one night in a rage after looking at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, you had started punching it until it had become nothing but stardust under your bleeding fingers, and the next day when you had returned from your walk with the dog, you had found a new one, with a note from Dean who had said that seeing that you had taken it off, thinking that you didn't like it anymore, he had bought a new one, so realizing that you couldn't escape that vicious cycle and knowing that if it happened one more time it would arouse even more suspicion, you had simply covered it up, and hoped that no one would ever learn of that dirty secret, and instead, here it all was for all to see.
You look at Sam in those damned puppy-dog eyes of his, and burst into desperate weeping. He, seeing you in this state, instinctively picks you up and holds you in his arms.
"I disgust myself Sam." You finally manage to utter those damn words, and immediately you feel as if your soul lightens as you feel his arms grip your body even tighter as if you could disappear at any moment, and at the same time he does it with an innate delicacy, as if it were a precious crystal figurine that can be broken under his gaze. "I'm disgusted by my body, I'm disgusted by every single thing about me, and you're disgusted by it too, don't lie to me. I thought if I lost weight things would get better, but they don't, I feel worse and worse." You continue, while somehow trying to get away from him.
"In what sense would you disgust me? When would I have ever said such a thing?" He asks confusedly as he looks at you, tears have dried on his face. His eyes range and seem to want to imprint your every little detail in his memory. His gaze makes you blush as you try to find the words to tell him how his words have done nothing but unleash a storm that had long been locked up somewhere inside you and was just waiting to be released. So you take a deep breath and tell him everything, while he looks at you attentively and astonished, his arms still around his body, as if he needs reminding that you are there beside him, and that you are not just a product of his mind.
You tell him everything, every little thing you had felt hearing his words while you were locked in that damn bathroom, your feelings and emotions in the month to follow, along with all the thoughts and all the actions you had put in place in the hope that he would no longer hate you, and that maybe you would hate yourself less, too. He starts crying again, and hides his face in the crook of your neck.
You stay a few minutes clasped to each other, in silence, after you have poured your heart out in front of him, ready to suffer the consequences, when he takes your face in his hands and stares at you steadily with those chocolate-colored eyes of his, and for a moment you feel your breath short.
"Don't ever think of such a thing again. Never. You are perfect exactly as you are, there is nothing I would change about you, there is nothing I don't love about you." At his words you stand still, as if petrified, afraid that a single movement of yours could mean the breaking of this beautiful illusion. "Yes, I am tired of holding all this in, I love you, I love you so much that I am sick just thinking about not having you near me for a second, I love you so much that I would have been ready to kill my brother for stealing the girl I love all my life, I love you so much that I would be ready to climb the highest mountain in the world and scream it to everyone!" He continues as he stands up on the bed, and begins to move his arms quickly, just enough to make you laugh. At the sound of your laughter he turns to look at you, and smiles even more, to return next to you on his knees and cup your face in his hands. "I love every little, tiny thing about you madly. I'm crazy, crazy in love, and I was a fool because I was so convinced that getting away from you would be better for you, that I didn't realize that you were suffering because of me, and I'm sorry. On the one hand I would like to let you go and make you happy, but on the other hand I am an extremely selfish being and I only want you for myself." He continues as he rests his forehead on yours, whispering the last words. "I love you, and I'm sorry."
You look at him, and not even realizing what you are doing, you take his face in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The kiss you exchange arises as sweet and gentle, like two flames dancing in an elegant dance side by side, testing each other's reaction, in the same way your lips move over each other, slowly tasting that new sensation. You feel her soft lips caressing yours, until neither of you has a single breath left.
"I love you too if you hadn't realized it idiot." You comment making him laugh. "I love you, and for so long I would have preferred not to because it made me sick, yet I could do nothing but love you. The only reason that kept me alive was my love for you, even though it was also my poison." You continue by looking into his eyes, and you see the pain in his.
"If you forgive me, I will do everything to correct what I have done." He looks at you, with a penitent and pleading gaze, as he takes your hands in his, before you release one and place it on his right cheek, and he instinctively leans into your hands, seeking that simple contact.
"I've already forgiven you moron." She laughingly comments, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, but this time the air in the room is different. The atmosphere becomes more erotic and intriguing. You feel his hands carefully explore your body, running his hands down your sides from your breasts to your butt, where he rests his large, warm hands, before slipping them under your T-shirt and caressing the skin of your back, making you shiver. You feel his hand rise higher and higher to the level of your bra and undo the hook that held it, but then he stops. Parting your lips he looks into your eyes for a second.
"If you don't feel up to it it's perfectly fine honey, we can stop here-"Sam says unsure, but you stop him.
"Afraid it's too much for you Winchester?" You ask as you raise your eyebrows, and see him smile, before resting his lips on yours, then creating a trail of kisses from your mouth to the chest exposed by the shirt you are wearing, down your neck.
"God, how I've missed you." He comments between kisses, but then stops again and looks at you seriously. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding myself, if you don't feel comfortable we can stop here."
You look at him, in his eyes only the pure affection and love you feel for him, and then put an end to all his doubts.
"I want to do it Sam." You say in a whisper as you take the bottom of his shirt with your hands and slowly slip it off, thus also dropping the bra he had unfastened a few minutes ago. "I want to do it with you Sam."
He looks at you and doesn't let you tell him twice, and he resumes his attack on your neck, leaving obvious signs of his passage, and then moves on to your breasts.
"God, you're perfect." He whispers before teasing one of your nipples. You moan softly at that sensation, feeling his teeth clench, his lips kiss and his tongue lick every single inch of your body, worshipping you like a goddess, a queen, tasting every inch of your skin.
This wonderful moment is interrupted, however, by the unannounced entrance of Dean, who, seeing the scene of his brother splayed across your body as he kisses your breasts, and with one hand explores the rest of your body, while you clutch his long hair in your hands, moaning his name shamelessly, lets out a small scream, before closing the door again.
"Damn you guys could warn." Comments the older brother, as Sam with speed grabs a blanket to cover you.
"Should we announce? You're the one who entered the room unannounced!" Sam replies in turn, making an expression that makes you laugh. "You can still come in now jerk."
"Bitch." Dean retorts, to open the bedroom door again and have a stupid grin plastered on his face. "So, I see Sam hasn't exactly figured out how to talk and resolve a situation, usually the mouth should be free to talk, not busy sucking-"
"You try to say one more Winchester word and I'll tell everyone about Christmas with Cindy McWood." You threaten him, and see him whiten, before his smile returns to its former self.
"Well what can I say in that case guys, good conversation and be sure to use protection, I'm not ready to be an uncle." He says closing the door behind him, then opening it again. "Not that I wouldn't make a great uncle, but I would say I'm too young and then-"
"Out!" You and Sam scream in unison, and the only thing Dean does is give you the finger before walking away. The two of you stand still for a moment weighing what just happened and burst out laughing, before Sam's lips find yours again.
"Where were we?" He asks you next, and you can't help but smile and moan at feeling his lips on you again.
It's shaping up to be a very interesting night, long but interesting, and you know that in the end maybe by tomorrow morning you can slowly look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of the man you love behind you supporting you.
TAGLIST
@supernatural-lvr @itzdarling @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @evansstan-akya
#hauntedwitch04's writing#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader smut#sam winchester smut#sam winchester x plus size reader#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x plus size reader#dean x castiel#supernatural x reader#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester imagine#becky's favorite#castiel x dean#castiel novak
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Omg ! I didn't think you'd actually respond !! We're gonna fly away from here is easily one of the best ones in the series!! It's so Twisted and disturbing but almost domestic...
(Also tysm for including my name idea in your story, Idk where it came from, I just liked it and I appreciate you!)
I digress. I've returned with a concept.
Al almost always has a plan when he does something. I don't know where you want to go with the second child but this won't be too focused on that one...for now.
I really liked how you interpreted Alastor being a weasel and weaseling his way back into the families life and was thinking about how many
I wonder about if he has a plan right now, like not a long term one, obviously, but a very specific one for a 'short term'.
Women back then, especially in the south weren't allowed to have bank accounts so finicial trapping works well in this case. Also just kinda the ability to turn their kids against her would be enough to terify me.
People talk about the 1950's housewife, but oh my god, 1920's housewives were a new kind of depressed.
I, personally, don't think Alastor is the type of physically abuse women. No, he's far too classy for that. Instead, like I said, I think he'd either use his status in their house to trap his wife. We were able to run away while we were pregnant and alone, but we have a child now...and would we be willing to leave our child with him?
No, I don't think I would, personally. This was just me rambling. K, love u, currently hyperfixated on this au. Byeee !!!!
_ Cherry Anon!
DON’T REALLY WANT NO TRUST FUND BABY
[before reading this, read the rest of the story!]
— seems as if alastor found out your little secret
— UR TOO SWEET I SC THIS ON MY IG STORY AND YAPPED TO MY BOY BSF FOR AN HOUR AB IT IM BLUSHING SO HARDDDD!! ABUSE WAS LIT MY LAST SOCIAL STUDIES LESSON FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR MY TCH YAPPED AB FINANCE SO HARD 🤭🤭
being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. but, behind the closed curtains, alastor did things that would’ve made lucifer shake in his boots.
no, he didn’t hit you. his mother would kill him if he hit his wife. but, just because alastor never hit you, didn’t mean he didn’t abuse you.
he tormented you in the worst way possible, through noah. and now, emilia.
it’s been 3 years. your little emilia lives up to her name, a cute little girl who’s eager to win. and, little noah is now a big boy, double digits and all.
and, since you’ve returned back to his house, alastor has done nothing but twist your babies’ minds. ‘once upon a time, mama wanted to run away from daddy… so, she ran away and took big brother with her. daddy was sooo worried for mama and big brother though… daddy was able to track mama down, and took her home!’ he cooed to your daughter, bouncing her in his arms— with you right beside him!
you wanted to yell; scream. of course, emilia was too young to understand what alastor was saying. but, still— the fact that he was trying to tell your children that he was some sort of white knight who saved you from yourself. you wanted nothing less, but to snap that neck of his like a twig.
you really shouldn’t act so brashly though. to outsmart alastor, you have to think like him. think of what’s smarter in long run.
alastor was ‘kind’ enough to give you an allowance. $200 every week for groceries and whatever you may need. he’s even so kind as to let you have some ‘private bonding’ with noah and emilia as they accompany you to the farmer’s market.
thankfully, you had a father who wanted to make his little girl survived even without a husband. and so, you had to hear all of his ramblings about finance. saving about 45% each week for 3 years… was about $14,000!
if you saved just a little more, you’d be semi-financially independent until you can get a proper job to take care of your children. it was run-away money, so to speak.
you hid the money in noah’s room. after all, who would expect money there? especially $14,000? and, it worked, for a while. every monday, while you tucked him into bed, you brought the money with you and hid it behind his dresser.
until, what had seemed like a normal tuesday. you came home from the tailor’s, getting back a dress that noah accidentally tore. when you came home, it was only two hours after noon. and despite that, alastor was home.
“a-alastor..! what are you doing home so early? you have a broadcast in 2 hours…” you narrowed your eyes at alastor, on the floor with your children, many new toys surrounding them. “ah, darling! i decided to pick up our children early, and we may have splurged on our little shopping spree…” he smugly grinned. “oh..? where’d you get the money?” you raised your eyebrow, closing the door and laying your bearings on the dining table.
“funniest story ever, my love! there was a random stash of money in noah’s room! seems as if the tooth fairy came early!” he laughed. random stash of money in noah’s room..? “oh. i see.” your breath stopped for a minute, thinking of what kind of consequences could come from it.
“do you have any idea how that money landed there?” he side-eyed you, expecting a lie. “perhaps it was from the old owners? you know this house, there’s so many secrets in here.” you said. “i see… i suppose you are right, darling!” he giggled.
you were back on square one. financially dependent on your husband, if you could even call him ‘husband’. as you climbed up the stairs, you heard alastor whisper to your son. “you see that? momma lied. she got less talkative when papa asked her a question.”
this is what alastor’s been teaching your son. as much as you want to protest, you did lie.
oh, how much you wished for much more simpler times. playing with your baby boy in the kitchen as you make little treats together for his snack at school. and now, the boy alastor’s turning him into— a cunning sociopath, the lord only knows what he will teach your daughter.
this is just a minor setback, it has to be.
#I WORD DUMPED OMFG#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hasbin alastor#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor hc#alastor headcanons#human alastor#alastor the radio demon#yandere alastor#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere
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OMG i just taught of this in my head its alright if ya dont wanna write it but NANAMI AS A FATHER HEADCANON cuz like man will be dedicsted to making sure his child has a goos life (and not be like gojo)
my masterlist !
✭ pairings: platonic - dad!nanami x daughter!reader
✭ warning: nanami's probably out of character, pure fluff, fem!reader
✭ word count: 1.2k words
HII OH MY GOSH, thank you for the ask!! okay so this is my first ever hc request and I ABSOLUTELY ADORE the idea of this!! I hardly ever write 'x reader' content, but I really might just start doing it for the platonic reqs!
I really do think Nanamin would be the best dad ever, but Gojo would definitely be a great parent too considering that he does believe that children should be allowed to be happy without having their childhood taken away!
Anyway, I've yapped enough, here are the Dad!Nanami Headcanons! Enjoy!
𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 | 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
Dad!Nanami who:
✧ Raised the baby left on his doorstep, crying and swaddled in cloth with her heartbreaking screams of hunger and lack of love filled his ears.
✧ Instantly checked on her condition, considering the baby’s cries, he couldn’t tell if perhaps she was injured.
✧ Once he figured out she was fine, he instantly rushed to the store with the baby in his arms, rushing through each aisle to hunt for baby food.
✧ Bought the food the moment he spotted it, adjusting her in his hold as he quickly paid for it, sitting on the ground outside to open the food and feed the starving child.
✧ Softens the moment he hears her cries stop, her big eyes staring up at him intently with her remaining tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.
✧ Smiles a little the moment he sees how quickly she devours the baby food, showing how hungry she really is.
✧ Thought maybe parenthood isn’t as bad as it seems.
✧ Feels pride bubble up in his chest the moment she begins to walk, her smile wide as she wobbles towards him, his arms wide open as he speaks to her with soft encouragement, “That’s it, step by step.”
✧ Scoops her up into a big hug the moment she’s a few inches away from her, her little giggles of amusement bringing her so much joy.
✧ Doesn’t mind doodling silly little things with her, scribbling down on a paper whatever she asks, as long as it’s after work hours, despite his urge to bend the rules for his little girl.
✧ Brings her to work as long as he’s not on a mission (because really, who in the right mind would put such a precious being in harm’s way?), just to make sure that she’s safe and sound. At least she’s with him, and he can keep an eye on her.
✧ Knows he can trust his baby girl with Gojo’s students when he needs to go on a mission, and never Gojo, even if Fushiguro did turn out the way he did under Gojo’s care.
✧ Would make the three teens promise not to let Gojo within a five-foot radius of his little daughter because he knows it would mean nothing but trouble (who knows what really goes on behind those blindfolded, blank eyes.)
✧ Is nothing but touched to see how the three students cared for his little girl so carefully, seeing her resting on Itadori’s chest as they sleep on the couch with the hushed noises of children’s cartoons in the background from the TV.
✧ Tucks her away before gently placing a warm blanket over the three students who he clearly cared for (he’s never explicitly said so, but they all know it). He’s nothing short of grateful for their help babysitting the precious little girl in his life, and he sees her as his own, not caring for the fact that she was just left on his doorstep. He can’t wait to see her grow.
✧ Tears up a little behind his glasses as he drops her off for her first day at preschool, his face stoic as ever as he wonders where all the time went as he watches her skip off to class, waving goodbye to him.
✧ Wishes that time would slow down just for a while so he could read her bedtime stories and notice the tiny things she does to try and make his day easier. Always his little helper, she was.
✧ Can’t wait to pick her up, packing up fifteen minutes earlier from work just to collect her on time, turning to Gojo with a glare as the white-haired man smirks, entertained to see his junior so caring and paternal.
✧ Arrives at her preschool just a minute early, waiting at the school’s gates as he hears the bell ring, the cheers of other kids rushing out like water from a broken dam. His eyes immediately rush to find her tiny figure, and he bends down, recognising the top of her head through the sea of children.
✧ Listens to every little thing she tells him, from what she saw in the class to the friends she made – even the tiny ants she saw at the playground during recess.
✧ Smiles the moment he sees the drawing she did in class of a poorly-drawn him and herself (he doesn’t mind it one bit), just proud to have been involved in her growth.
✧ Frames the drawing instantly, and though it’s a little big, it sits on his bedside table, right next to his wristwatch and glasses.
✧ Has no hesitation to put aside whatever housework the moment she asks for help with homework – math specifically.
✧ Is as patient as he can be, explaining the basics clearer for his precious daughter to understand, helping her with the first bit before letting her try it out on her own. He’s positively glowing with pride when he checks through her homework, finding it all done correctly.
✧ Ruffles her hair as she grins with a laugh as he gives her his rare words of encouragement, “Great work, kiddo.”
✧ Sees her with a gold star sticker her homework the next day as she runs to him after school, her maths worksheet waving in the air as she jumps into his arms.
✧ Is nothing but satisfied to see her beaming with pride at her efforts, and relieved to know that he’s doing a good job so far.
✧ Finds himself stuck, struggling to explain where her mother is as she peers curiously up at him, his daughter now up to his hip.
✧ She’s grown again, and her increased height followed her curiosity as she asked more questions, and noticed more things – well in this case, the lack thereof.
✧ He simply replied with a, “It’s always been you and I.” Relief fills him the moment he sees a nod in understanding, but the thought keeps him awake at night. Eventually, he’ll have to explain, it’s always the hardest thing to find out how to do it.
✧ Finds out why she asked as he spots a little worksheet on her desk, his brown eyes widening as he recognises it as a family tree.
✧ Two of the slots are filled, but the rest remain blank, and he feels nothing but pity, a sigh escaping him as he picks up the sheet of paper.
✧ Plans to tell his daughter everything that night, preparing her favourite dishes and desserts, but his nerves are getting to him, resulting in a tense silence as he sits at the dining table, waiting for her to finish her shower.
✧ Notices the moment passes as she sits down, digging into her meal as he clears his throat, finally finding it in him to speak.
✧ Watches every twitch of her eyelid as she blinks, waiting for some sort of reaction from her, hoping that she’d take it well. He’s not sure of what he’d do if it all went south.
✧ Is silent by the end of the explanation, waiting, gauging for her voice to say something, but all he can see are her big eyes staring at him.
✧ Is caught off guard when she says, “I don’t need any other family, because I have you, Dad. I don’t care if I’m adopted or not, you’ll always be my dad.”
✧ Feels his eyes water, his arms spreading open to pull her into a hug. It’s uncharacteristic of him, but for her, he wouldn’t care. She’s his daughter, his little girl, not bound by blood but by bond.
✧ Would want nothing more than to hold her in his arms, wishing to protect her from every little bit of harm because that’s what you do with things you adore, with the things you treasure – and she’s everything to him, his baby girl.
taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki @sad-darksoul @yunymphs @cindol @rrairey @cheriiyaya @yurislotusgarden @kesshavx
< comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >
#sam writes !#💌 sam’s inbox !#dad!nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami jjk#dad!nanami x daughter!reader#platonic!nanami#dad!kento nanami#kento nanami#jujutus kaisen#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen x reader#dad nanami kento#nanamin#kento nanami would be an amazing dad#adopted!reader#headcanons
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What's up bro! I was just wondering weather you could make a little oneshot-headcanon about a male student in aizawas class who's younger brother (age 4-5) is quite dangerous due to his quirk but he's never done anything and he's been declined from multiple daycares and his parents are super stressed but Aizawa ends up taking the male reader younger brother to U.A's daycare and everyone in the dorms loves him bc he's so cute.
Thanks man, have a good day!!!!!
A/N: of course bro, this request is so cute so buckle up for some fluffy, maybe ooc aizawa and a cute younger brother.
This can be read as a trans or cis dude but if trans js imagine you got top surgery at a young age (not that young tho!). It's not mentioned anyways
Your parents were stressed. Like stressed stressed.
Your younger brother with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes was boping around in your living room.
His name was Kuragari and he could destroy all of reality in one clap of his hand
But it's never happened before, but most people stay away from the cute ball of happiness.
When he was a child (2-3), everyone would stay away from him but he had you
Y/n L/n, a (personality trait) boy who was in class 1a, UA. Aspiring hero, and the best brother anyone could ask for.
Anyways back to the point.
Your parents were stressed, Kuragari's power was getting in the way of his daycare applications.
He was dangerous and so nobody came near him bc of "the sake of the other children"
And your parents both worked and you went to school so it was a hell of a time trying to do something for him
He'd usually get a baby sitter but he'd cry a couple of hours in, begging for you and his parents.
Which made either you, your mother or father come home from work early and have to settle him down
But that when the offer of you life came true.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Y/n" you hear a faint voice call for you.
"Y/n!" The same voice but louder said again.
"Y/N!" The person said and you shot up straight away, the redness in your eyes and the bags under them were a huge sign of no sleep.
You looked around, you were in your classroom but nobody was in there, just your homeroom teacher calling out for you.
"Yes sir! I'm up, I'm up." You exclaimed into the empty room, your brother had woken up crying at exactly 2:27 am yesterday night and your parents wouldn't wake up so you had to deal with Kuragari by yourself and that lasted duntil 4:16 am when he decided to sleep. And you knew you had to wake up at 7 tomorrow so only 3 hours of sleep didn't toll well on your body.
"It's break, why are you still sleeping?" Aizawa questioned, though not making any visable facial expressions.
"I-uh, I just didn't get enough sleep. I'm okay" You said, blinking in drowsiness
Aizawa raised an eyebrow and said "Are you sure? Is there something I need to know?"
"Nah, not really. It's just my younger brother Kuragari. He's been declined by so many daycares' bescuse his quirk is too dangerous for the daycare but hes never actually used it before." You explain and Aizawa listens intently.
"He can break reality in one clap of his hands but he's so cute, he's 5 this year and me, my mother and my father have been extremely stressed about this issue because nobody can baby sit him for more then five hours before he starts to throw a fit and cry. And we have to take care of him at night and its very tiring."
Aizawa listened to your story all the way through and at the end he said, "How about we take him and we can take care of him? It's up to your parents though." Your eyes glimmered at the idea and you told him you'd ask them this evening.
That evening~~~~
"Mum, Dad. I've got news! Sensei Aizawa said he's take in Kuragari into the U.A daycare! Only if you want." You exclaimed when you got into the house and ran straight into your living room.
"Wait what?" Your father said, a hint of surprisment in his voice. "Really?" You mother said, a huge smile growing on her face.
"Yes!" You shouted with picking up your little brother and he immediately started laughing and clapping his hands together in excitement even though he had no idea what you were talking about.
A few hours later
"So what do we need to do to get Kuragari in there?" Your mother said while feeding him some food.
"Nothing, we just have to bring him in tomorrow and they take him in, look after him and there is another sweet girl called Eri in there. She's so sweet and I think they would get along together."
"Are you sure about this, honey?" Your father said to your mother
"It's a opportunity we must take. For the sake of our sleep" Your mother yawned.
Your father nodded on agreement.
"Alright then, but it's your responsibility to dress and wash him in the morning because we have work tomorrow. Fair?" Your father asked while taking a sip of his coffee.
"Fair" you agreed while picking up Kuragari and placing him on the couch and turning on some baby shows.
The next morning~~~~~~
You looked at a snoozing Kuragari at 6:50 am. You knew he was gonna throw a fit about waking this early but he had to get up.
You picked up the snoozing boy and cradled him in your hands, gently rubbing your finger over his forehead to wake him.
He started to fidget in your hands and kick his legs about. That's when he opened his ayes and started wailing.
"Shh, shh it's okay. I need you to wake up for me." You say as you kissed his head and put him in his baby chair.
You made his baby breakfast and ate your own, he was still glaring at you for waking him up early.
After that, you ran a bath for the two of you while he played with some of his toys.
"Kuragari." You exclaimed and he came crawling over to the bathroom with a toy car in his hand.
You undressed him and put him in the bath and you also got in. He flapped around with his bath toys in the bath, accidentally hitting you with some bubbles.
"You silly child" you sighed before taking him out and dressing him in some new clothes.
"Alright lil bro, I'm gonna carry you to school today. So climb on my back." You said while taking your keys and unlocking your front door.
You crouched down do he could climb on your back and he crawled up your back and seated himself right on your shoulders.
Off you two go to school~~~
Surprisingly you were the only two there in your class. Mean class did start at 8:20 and you two got there at 7:59 so it was pretty early.
You went to sit at your desk and then you took your brother off your head and placed him on your desk, then placed your own head on the desk, hoping for some of your own sleep.
Your promised it would 5 minutes but 5 minutes turned into 15.
Your self-consciousness was telling you to get awake and that's when you shot up awake, immediately in search for you younger brother.
"Kuragari" you said, your eyes darted across the room but all you could see were your fellow classmates crowded around something..or someone.
"Where's my brother?" You said in panic and the whole class looked at you in surprise.
"You mean this bundle of joy" Denki said as he held your smiling and laughing brother in his hands.
Your face immediately relaxed, you hadn't lost him.
"I'm so sorry guys-" you started but Mina interrupted.
"There no need to be sorry he's so cute!" She said while the rest if the class agreed with him. You went to join the classmates of yours and when he saw you he did his signature grabby hands and you picked him up.
"Bakugo saw you sleeping when he came in then me spotted your brother on his desk. He carefully just put him back on your desk and sat down."
Bakugo tsked at his desk but didn't deny it.
"What's he even doing here anyways?" Sero says as he laughs with Kuragari.
"Oh it's a long story, so-" then a door slammed open and Aizawa walked in.
"What is going here?" He questioned and everyone moved out the way of Kuragari and Aizawa had one look at the child and back at you and he knew you two were siblings.
Kuragari on the other hand started to cry at the old grizzled man and immediately started to grab onto Deku's shirt.
"Sorry man, he's a bit grumpy. I'll take him out." You say to deku and he waves it off completely fine.
When you walk out of the room, Aizawa walked out as well.
"Sorry sensei, he's just-"
"Yeah yeah, I know. Let's just get him in the daycare and we can start lessons" Aizawa said and the two of you walked to the daycare in silence.
You dropped him off to the daycare in silence where he met Eri and they got along together.
The two of you walked back together to class in silence before Aizawa said. "He looks like you".
"Really?" You say, surprised at the comment.
"Yeah, I bet he's a hard one to deal with."
"Oh he is" you say, enjoying the small talk.
"I can see where he gets it from" he says and you accidentally let out a chuckle.
You knew you had a good teacher.
#mha#my hero academia#sfw#aizawa sensei#aizawa shouta#aizawa x reader#bnha#bnha aizawa#bnha x male reader#bnha x reader#children#mha x male reader#aizawa x male reader#fluff#platonic#cute#baby boi#mha aizawa#bhna#class 1a#bhna x reader#bhna fluff#male y/n#male#ftm reader#cis man#cis male#trans guy#transgender#reqs open
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I think at this point everyone has different opinions on each of the Districts and honestly I love that. It's so fun to read people's thoughts.
(I'm sure I'm not the first person to think or say this but) I have a theory on why District One/Two win so many of the games beyond just being Volunteers in a game full of people going in blind.
It's something I've thought heavily about and even incorporated into my own fanfics.
But District One, I think, they win by raising their volunteers to be pretty. They train them to fight, yes, but I think they pull sponsors by making their kids "sexy." In both the book and movie, Glimmer is heavily sexualized. In the book, she's in a sheer gown that shows everything. In the movie, they tone it down but still show quite a bit of her body during the interview. Even the two victors we get to hear a little more about (Cashmere and Gloss) are mentioned to be pretty. Despite being a sibling duo, they're incredibly popular within the Capitol.
But even after they get 'popular' they don't turn down their attractiveness. She still dresses pretty with make up and smiles like she's been taught to do. He's still beefy and hot. You would think if they had any bodily autonomy they would start to tone themselves down in order to get away from the sex slavery.
I think sex appeal is what makes them a victor. Literally. People 'sponsor' them in the hopes of getting to fuck them. They get told that these people are who they're indebted to and most likely are forced into sex as a way to 'repay' them. Everyone says if Glimmer had won she would become the next Cashmere. Which is true. But no one points out how this is planned and a tactic that one consistently uses. Once they win they realize how fucked they are. They don't know they shouldn't want to win until it's over. It's too late to back out. Part of why Cashmeres life is devastating is because Gloss knew what was coming and he wanted better for her. But it happened away. And now they're stuck repaying the Capitol with their bodies.
In Two I think they raise fighters. They put all their effort into skill, endurance and survival. Out of all of the districts I think they do the best at giving them a chance. They make sure they send the best trained, the most skilled and the smartest. Clove is such a good example of this. She never missed her target. (Except for when Katniss moved the backpack making her miss). She was brilliant. Cato too. He was strong and a fantastic fighter. They only lost because the story demanded Katniss win. Hell there's so many moments where Katniss almost dies at their hands only to **magically** get away. (Thresh owing her, tracker jacker nest, not seeing her a few feet away) all of it. They weren't stupid meat heads. They were warriors. Children raised to kill.
I think they delbrately send plain victors. They don't want want to send "pretty" kids. They tone down any sort of beauty their tributes have. One of my favorite examples is Enobaria. She's pretty. And I think that's her downfall. It's mentioned in the series that she wins by ripping another tributes throat out with her teeth. (A popular theory is she was raped and used the very last thing she had in order to get away.) But she ends up getting her teeth filed down. While a lot of people think it was the Capitol, I believe it was her mentors. They filed them down, knowing she wouldn't be able to be raped again. I mean, who would have sex with her knowing one wrong move and you could be dead? She can bite your dick off in seconds if she wanted to. (Not to say she doesn't get booked) It would sway a lot of people away. I think much like Haymitch fighting against Katniss's breast implants, her mentors fought to get her teeth sharpened.
If they're able to I believe Two will alter the victors in order to make them less desirable. One plays it up, Two tones it down winning off skill and merit alone. Any sponsors they get isn't driven by sex.
It's why they win so much, and why the other districts have such a hard time getting sponsors.
I also think that District Four, the last of the career pack, has it's own way of creating victors. They send tributes like the rest but I think they do something different from the rest. My own headcanon is that they send orphans. It's fucked up but if I remember correctly they never mention Finnick having family.
I think they take the kids with nowhere else to go and put them in a training center. Whoever scores the best goes that year. Unluckily for Finnick, he was picked at 14. He was attractive, and part of me thinks Mags played into that to give him the advantage, thinking he didn't have family to leverage. It would have been fine, but then Annie happened. They use her as a control tactic.
I also think Finnick is the reason it was a one and done on leaning into the sex appeal. It fucked him over. Annie was pretty too but she wasn't used. (No one has ever said ah yes she's crazy let's just not rape her, fuckwads do it anyways.) But I think Mags learned from her mistake and played Annie down. Made her less pretty like they do in Two.
It's fucked. The entire system is fucked. But I think each 'career' district creates winners any way they can. No one in Four would volunteer they're disillusioned unlike one and two. So why not send the kids who have nothing, no one to come back to? In Two why not train them and maim them after to keep them safer? In One why not make them fuckable to win? They won't understand until its too late?
Maybe I've overthought this. Probably have. Idk. Just a thought.
#district two#district one#district four#hunger games#the hunger games#finnick odair#mags flanagan#clove kentwell#cato hadley#marvel#glimmer#enobaria#brutus#cashmere#gloss#haymitch abernathy#katniss everdeen#career apologist#career pack#the careers#hunger games renaissance#hunger games headcanons#headcanons#literary analysis#annie cresta
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heyyyy, 👋🏻
first of all, i hope you're doing well. second of all, i see you asked for requests so i decided to send one. this is actually the first time i've actually requested a story ever 🫣
anyways, i was thinking something with roommate!jason. i personally don't care if the reader knows or doesn't know about him being the red hood. don't care if you make her them (i'm a girl but i don't mind a gn!reader, why not let everyone feel included) a vigilante or a civilian. what i do care about is there being tons of mutual pining, a typical idiots in love situation iykwim 😂 and then something happens and they realize they love each other? i'd love for it to be fluffy but you can also make it as spicy as you want i won't mind 😜 i just looooooove the 'and they were roommates!!' trope.
or if you want, i'm a sucker for any sort of meet-cute scenario
love yaaa 💝
🌳 (do anons still use emojis as signatures?)
Absolutely thank you thank you 🌳anon for this request!! Notes at the end vv.
Jason Todd x Reader
"Why- WHY did it have to be a man! Why not a female- Or, or a girly pop man at the very least- That's not a girly pop man!"
You probably made the most embarrassing and awkward first impression ever when you first moved into your new apartment.
You moved into Gotham, unaware of the insane villains and masked heroes that filled the city. But you soon found out about that later.
But when you unlocked the door to your new apartment, there was a big man sitting on the couch. And your eye twitched. You gave a lopsided smile while carrying two boxes, placing them beside the door.
"Uhm. Sorry, I think I'm supposed to be your roommate," you say quietly, trying to avoid eye contact.
"Oh. Okay, do you.. need any help?" He offers, and you quickly deny.
"No- no, thanks. I'll be quick anyway," you say, picking up the two boxes. "Uhm.."
"Second door to the left," Jason says, his eyes glued to a novel, pointing towards where the empty room was as you replied with a quiet thanks.
You made three trips when bringing in all your boxes, avoiding as much communication with Jason as possible. You shut your room door and started whisper-yelling at yourself.
"Why- WHY did it have to be a man! Why not a female- Or, or a girly pop man at the very least- That's not a girly pop man!" You cried to yourself. The last roommate you had was at your old university, who was a guy, too. Let's just say he wasn't the... most hygenic person. Or the most polite. Or couldn't even bother to put a sock on the door knob before you came back from a lecture!
"The walls are real thin, by the way!" Jason shouts from outside your room. Then you stopped yourself.
That's how you created the most embarrassing and awkward first impression with Jason Todd. But the more time the two of you lived together, the less bad he seemed. Well. He never seemed bad in the first place. One day, you just explained to him your awful encounters with your last roommate, and Jason couldn't help but laugh at your experience.
So by then, you and Jason became best friends.
He told you that his job always involved him working the night shift, which never bothered you. It just reminded you to stock up on coffee and energy drinks.
But one night during his night off, the two of you were on the couch. Jason was reading "Midnight's Children," which he found in a charity shop and was ranting how someone could donate such a good book. You had your head lying on his lap, flicking through channels whole Jason commented on certain points in the book.
You stopped at the news channel, a certain red masked vigilante in action. This caught Jason's eye.
"Why are you watching the news?" He asks.
"You know, I never knew there were a bunch of heroes and villains when I moved into Gotham," you stated.
"What, really? I thought you were a crazy person when you moved here. Especially when you started complaining that I wasn't... What was it you said again? A 'girly pop man?'" Jason snickers as you smack his chest.
"Shut up! But nah, I didn't. But that Red Hood guy is making me think that moving here isn't all that bad."
Jason moves the book away from his face, looking down at you. "What do you mean?" Now he's curious. The news continues to play, showing Red Hood taking down multiple criminals on his own.
"He's hot," you say nonchalantly. Jason freezes. "Like, look, watch, watch," Red Hood blows a punch to one of the men's faces while skillfully avoiding the bullets and strikes from the others. Both your hands cover your face. "Ughhh!! He's so fineeee!!!" You groan.
Jason doesn't know how to react. There's no doubt that he's found you attractive. But he enjoyed you as a friend and didn't want to ruin what the two of you had. Unfortunately, your comment didn't help with his undying attraction towards you and shifted uncomfortably on the couch.
"Alright, move," he tries to say casually. "Need to go bathroom." You move your head off of him as he rushes towards the bathroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Was all that Jason was thinking as he paced around the room.
He looked into the mirror and saw his face coloured a deep red. What the fuck was happening? He mever felt like this before. He groaned, burying his face in his hands, his elbows leaning on the counter. But when he looks through his fingers, he sees a tent growing in his pants.
SHIT.
No, no, no. He can't feel this way. Fuck! He quickly turns on the shower, stripping away his clothes, suddenly feeling a lot cooler, and steps into the shower.
He made sure the water was cool, hoping to bring his libido down.
"Jay! Hurry it up in there!" You yell from the outside, still sitting on the couch. Fuck, what the hell was he supposed to do??
Fuck it.
He wrapped his hand around his length and started pumping. He tried muffling his moans, hoping the sound of water splashing against the tiled floor would cover up his sounds, too.
His hand strokes the length of his cock faster. "Fuck, Y/n. Just like that," he whispers to himself. He never felt more guilty. You were his friend, and there he was, in the shower, jerking off to the thought of you.
He let out a stifled groan as the white, sticky liquid was released all over his hand. At the same time, you came knocking at the door.
Jason's eyes widened as he quickly rinsed off, stepping out of the shower.
"Jason? You okay in there?" You ask. He opens the door, looking down at you. He doesn't think he can look at you the same way ever again.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he tries playing it cool. "Your big-ass head just gave my leg a cramp," he teases, quickly disappearing into his room as you flipped him off from behind.
When Jason enters his room, he presses a pillow against his face. He promises himself never to let that happen ever again. Well. Unless he grows a pair and actually asks you out.
The next evening, you walk through his door. You see him packing his duffle bag for his late night patrol of the city. Or as he told you: Late night security at Gotham's National Museum.
You go give Jason your daily goodnight and bye hug. You wrap your arms around his neck, his expensive cologne absolutely intoxicating you, wishing you can continue to spend the night with him.
"Don't die on me," you say to him, as per usual. Jason scoffs, telling you to stop doubting his security skills.
You never doubted Jason. But you were always worried for him. Gotham really isn't the best place to be a civilian in, especially being night security at a place with a target on its roof. The museum would be crawling with villains trying to steal precious and expensive artefacts.
You couldn't deny it. Even when you first met Jason, you found him insanely attractive. Like, who wouldn't swoon for those bulging thighs and thick arms? And you hate to admit it, but there have been some nights where Jason was out, and you took the opportunity to have some of your own... late night activities while shamefully thinking about your roommate.
But you also wondered when he was going to tell you that he was Red Hood.
You found out his little secret before Jason found out you watched the news. One night, you stumbled across Red Hood and Nightwing, taking down a bunch of goons that worked for Lex Luthor. You saw that Red Hood got shot in the shoulder. And the mext morning, you saw Jason walking around shirtless in his room. And as much as you were tranced by his abs, you noticed his bandaged shoulder.
When asked what happened, he said he crossed paths with a mugger going to the museum. You tried to brush off the theory that he could be Red Hood, but the thought always lingered in your head. He is always going out at night. And with this theory, you grew more and more worried for you best friend.
You were reading Jason's annotated book of Pride & Prejudice when strong knocks on the door made you flinch from your seat. You rushed to the door, looking through the peephole and seeing Jason with a beat-up and bloody face. You yelp, quickly opening the door.
Jason was hunched over, grabbing his side, blood still spilling from his hip. You rushed to his side, going under his arm, supporting him as you dragged him to the couch. You notice he was still in his Red Hood gear as you went to quickly find your first aid kit.
"Fuck- Jason! What happened?!" You exclaim, kneeling in front of him. "You need to take your armour off!"
He lets you peel his chest plate off while he explains that he went off to complete a mission on his own. You strip him of his compression shirt, ignoring how pretty his muscles looked and went to clean his wound.
"I'm sorry," he groans, his wound stinging from the disinfectant wipe. "I never meant for you to find out like this."
"I already knew," you say quietly. Jason looks down at you in confusion. You look like you were about to cry. "I already knew you were Red Hood. I- I wanted to tell you that I knew but.. It just seemed like a sensitive topic," you explained. "So I wanted to wait for you to tell me yourself. And.. I thought if I just mentioned or complimented Red Hood often while you were around, you'd tell me sooner." You say as you wrap the gauze around his wound.
"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya," he said, avoiding your gaze.
"Well, you did! You'd go out every night, and I'd have to stay here, watch the live news to make sure you were okay!" You raise your voice. "I don't know what I would've done if I lost you.." You say more quietly.
Jason's eyes are wide, but they slowly soften, guilt ridden as his hand comes down to caress your face.
"I'm so sorry, N/n," he repeats. "I just wanted to keep you safe. You've no idea how much you mean to me." You lean into his touch, lightly smiffling as your hand ghosts over his.
"Wait," Jason speaks up. "So, did you only say Red Hood was hot so that I'd tell you I was Red Hood?" He deadpans, looking at you.
You stare back at him dumbfounded. "Is that your only concern right now??"
"Well, did you?"
You roll your eyes, getting up from your position, leaning closer to Jason's face and using the back of the couch as support. "Course I didn't," you say, staring into his eyes, your gaze flickering down to his lips.
Jason took the close proximity as an opportunity to grab your waist, bringing you down and forcing you to sit on his lap. "So you think I'm hot?"
You scoff. "You really need to get your ego checked," you say as he smiles. His large hand reaching up to the back of your neck, pulling you down to finally plant his lips against yours, his fantasies coming true.
And some of his other fantasies might just come true later on. Besides, Jason being Red Hood wasn't the only secret of his that you knew about. To be fair, he was the one who told you the walls were real thin. ;)
hmm, yeah, there wasn't as much fluff and pining as I intended.
Hopefully, this short fic doesn't let you regret your first story request for me.
Speaking of which, your first story request was for me?!??! 😱😱 I'm absolutely honoured, tysm, and i hope you've enjoyed the fic🙏🙏
Also, i'm sure a lot of anons sign off with emojis!! 🐀🐀
#jason todd#jason todd is my life#red hood#jason todd x reader#titans jason todd#dc titans#i love jason todd#jason todd titans#red hood x reader#jason todd headcanon#jason todd smut#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd x male reader#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x gender neutral reader#jason todd ff#jason todd fluff#jason todd fic#jason todd angst#red hood fluff#red hood fic#red hood fanfiction#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x gender neutral reader#red hood x male reader#red hood x you#red hood x y/n#red hood angst
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The Karma music video is packed with queer and sapphic themes. But what’s with that yellow beret?
We all watched the Karma music video on Friday (or Saturday), right? And then we all watched it ten more times because there IS JUST SO MUCH THERE. Right?!
I can’t even begin to unpack the whole thing yet, but let’s talk about the yellow brick road scene.
Taylor is obviously wearing ruby slippers (“the rubies that I gave up”) alluding to Dorothy/the Wizard of Oz. But she’s not wearing the rest of Dorothy’s getup. That’s because she’s not Dorothy, but in fact a friend of Dorothy.
She’s holding a broom (lots of witchy themes from her lately) and blows a kiss of blue (iykyk) glitter to three grim reapers (the two SBs and…?).
She’s keeping her side of the street clean, which harkens to the YNTCD MV where she clearly shows which side of the street she’s on:
Other things of note: it appears there are daisies embroidered on her collar, as well as growing along the yellow brick road. Her braids are also looped (“your braids make a pattern”).
The yellow brick road itself may be a nod to Elton John and his album/song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Here are some of the lyrics from that song, as well as a generally accepted analysis of the lyrics:
&
Seems like it would be super relatable to Taylor, right? Add in Elton John’s queerness/coming out journey, and the parallels continue.
There are probably a hundred other things I’m missing just from that scene alone, but what I really wanna talk about is the yellow beret, especially in light of current news surrounding Taylor.
When I saw the yellow beret, I furiously googled “yellow beret” + the names of Taylor’s muses, but I came up empty-handed. Because Taylor is specifically not wearing a Dorothy costume, I knew that fucking hat had to mean something. Then I remembered — isn’t yellow beret a military term? And we know she loves a good war story. To Google I went, and the results did not disappoint.
During the Vietnam war, all physicians in the US had a mandatory draft order. One of the ways to avoid the draft was to apply for a position with a Public Health Service program called the NIH Associates Training Program. Because the elite program was highly competitive, only a small percentage of doctors were able to serve their required military time without going to war.
Yellow beret was a self-deprecating and derogatory term used by and for doctors who avoided getting a green beret/going to war (yellow can be associated with cowardice, i.e. “yellow-bellied”) via the NIH program.
Sounding familiar? But wait there’s more.
Bob Seger wrote a song in 1966 called The Ballad of the Yellow Beret. It was written as a parody of the song The Ballad of the Green Berets. Here are some of the lyrics (I encourage you to read all of them!):
Verse 1: Fearless cowards of the USA // Bravely here at home they stay // They watch their friends get shipped away // The draft dodgers of the Yellow Beret
Okay, I’m seated.
Verse 3: Men who faint at the sight of blood // Their high-heeled boots weren't meant for mud // The draft board will hear their sob stories today // Only the best win the yellow beret
Oooookay.
Verse 4: Back at home a young wife waits // Her yellow beret has met his fate // He's been drafted for marching in a protest //Leaving her his last request
Are you screaming yet? Just wait.
Verse 5: Put a yellow streak down my son's back // Make sure that he never ever fights back // At his physical have him say he's gay // Have him win the yellow beret
And if that wasn’t enough, two of the last lyrics are “I've got a pimple on my trigger finger” (ew) and “well, we were planning on having children sometime soon” (devastating). These themes also align with The Great War, epiphany, etc.
But despite attempts to diminish their efforts through claims of cowardice, these “yellow beret” physician-scientists contributed to some of the most important and innovative medical research we have today. Dr. Fauci attended the training program, as well as nine others who went on to win Nobel Prizes.
Could it be that Taylor is trying to tell us that, while it looks like she dodged the draft (didn’t come out), she’s doing some important mastermind shit behind the scenes? Only time will tell, but since we are now at “dawn,” I believe daylight is soon to follow. ☀️
#gaylor#taylor swift#the eras tour#karma mv#karma taylor swift#karma is a cat#karma ft ice spice#karma remix#gaylor swift#swiftgron#kaylor
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Oh my God!
I just caught up with World's Finest: Teen Titans and I absolutely have to write this out:
First of all, I love this cover:
The thing that caught my eye: “you're grounded.”
Not the dramatic “you're fired” as if the motherfucker didn't raise that damn kid in his own damn house for YEARS.
(I know. I know. Bar on the ground, but what would you?)
Also, the anger palpable on Bruce's face and Dick's absolute disregard for it. I'm laughing here y'all. This is what teenagers act like. This is what fights between parents and children look like.
Also. Dick Grayson, I've been missing. You're back from war!
I love how curt he is. The “Get lost” hits in all the right places. We love a strongly-principled character that stands for what he believes in. With all the lukewarm Dick Grayson writing floating around I felt like walking into a coffee shop while it's snowing outside.
More of this writing, please.
I'd been waiting for this moment all through this series.
This conversation.
I compare things all the time. It might not be the right thing in every field but I think it serves well when it comes to comic books. We all have personal “canon criteria”—for example, mine are “Darwyn Cooke wrote this Bruce so I'm taking it as valid characterisation ” or “Every version of Bruce played by Kevin Conroy is valid”. (Minus Bruce Timm bullshit!)
Which was what cinched my hatred for Bruce after reading a Robin short story that Cooke wrote and alluded to Robin: Year One in it. I mean, I might not fuck with Dixon, but am I going to call even Cooke's Bruce OOC? No. It means Bruce is a jerk. Full stop.
Waid is one of the writers I respect (excluding Kingdom Come. I hate it and I can't put my finger on the why. But I just do: I hate it. I hate it for Clark. I hate it for Diana. And I'm a professional Bruce-hater so let's not even go there. I hate it for Dick too.)
And Dick and Bruce's relationship has a lot of baggage from the fact that a) Bruce is himself traumatised and fails to meet Dick's emotional needs b) he wasn't ready to be a father when he adopted Dick c) Dick simply suffers from being the eldest—the test child.
And very rarely have I seen writers manage to walk on the thin line of complicated-but-dedicated-and-strong.
Young Justice cartoon did it. Dick and Bruce's relationship is going strong. But they fight and have different values. And Dick can see all that is wrong with Bruce's approach to vigilantism in particular and life in general.
Grimm (Legends of the Dark Knight #149-154) did it right. Where Bruce hurt Dick deeply and made him feel unwanted all the while overthinking about Dick's well-being. Way to go, buddy! You can see the repercussions it has for Dick while simultaneously stare at this man who's tying himself into knots trying to think how best to parent.
I think that's what most Bruce and Dick comics miss: the excessive worrying. They don't show the worry, make them fight for drama, never address it apart from throwing out a “it's because Bruce's worried” (bitch, where?) and have Dick running back to Gotham at the first chance. It sounds an awful lot like “your parents hurt you 'cause they love you” bullshit.
I think World's Finest manages it well because foremost, Bruce says, in words, that he's worried about Dick's well-being. He's taciturn, he's putting constant pressure on Dick all in the hopes of making him quit Titans. All this makes him a jerk. But I don't hate him for it.
It's between Dick's “you don't trust me” and Bruce's “no, I don't trust them.”
Most teenagers clash with their parents. It's normal. That's what Waid has shown here and I love it. It feels very—normal?
Especially when the Bats aren't normal! Bruce sure as fuck ain't a normal parent. But there was something very bitter-sweet coming-of-age in this conversation.
Bruce does all those things that are bad for Dick and his growing independence. You're not supposed to handle teenagers like that.
He's worried and taking desperate measures. “If I punish him, then maybe he'll obey me and quit Titans and then he'll he safe”—lots of parents who don't know how to deal with teenagers do it.
But the sequence of it: Bruce is worried → Bruce wants Dick to quit Titans → for Dick it means proving himself to be better, to not get hurt (as if he can control that beyond a certain point) → Bruce being alarmed at Dick's insistence to stay with the Titans and taking desperate measures like benching him.
At least it makes sense.
Compare it to Dixon's Nightwing origin story, which honestly, personally I think was lazy writing. Drama for drama's sake. “You’re fired because you're spending too much time with the Titans.” The same writer also had Bruce say that he did it because he wanted Dick to strike out on his own. Blah, blah, blah.
And no matter whatever happens he'd never ever say it to Dick's face that he's worried about him because—well, reasons.
Robin: Year One logic:
I'm worried about Dick's health so I fire him. He runs off and can get hurt? He joins a school for assasins? None of my business. He can get hurt on his own, I don't care as long as it is not on my conscience. Peace.
—Bruce “professional narcissist” Wayne.
So, yes. When faced with this book(WF: TT), I'd call Dixon's writing lazy.
I'm also comparing this to several other instances when Bruce verbally says (never to Dick, mind you) that he loves that Dick's a better person and better vigilante than him. But in the same book he'd yell at Dick for exactly the same thing. (I consider that lazy writing, since BTAS made sure to show a shot of Bruce smiling whenever Dick was happy/not like him).
I like this thing here where he says it to Dick's face. He's still grounding him for “discipline's sake” or whatever—very, very IC for Bruce.
But he also lets Dick know that he appreciates his values, that are different—better—than Bruce's own.
I can stomach that.
Honestly Bruce's writing in this book felt like BtAS writing (pre-Bruce Timm fuckery). That's a compliment.
P.S. Waid's a good story-teller overall. His Superman: Birthright was one of the first Superman comics I read and I fell in love with Clark right away.
Peace ✌️😂
#dick grayson#bruce wayne#batman#world's finest#teen titans#robin#titans#wf: tt#world's finest: teen titans#dc#comics
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Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card - Dragging themselves along the ground
Bring Your Kids to Work Day
[tasm!peter x fem!reader]
TW: effects of fire and smoke inhalation, descriptions of a dead body, injury of a child, it's a fic about being trapped in a burning building with a child so you'll be reading grim descriptions of that
A/N: I started this bingo card almost exactly one year ago and I've only finished five fics from it since. Slow and steady, baby!
Bring Your Kids To Work Day. Of course, it would happen today, of all days.
Your office building was nothing special. Four stories and a basement. It paled in comparison to the surrounding towering skyscrapers. The newspaper company you worked for was located on the top floor. A local, independent newspaper that tried to focus on uncovering the truths the Daily Bugle would fabricate. Your company was barely staying afloat as it were. People enjoyed the gossip more than the truth. The struggling business thought today would be a wonderful time to allow their children to come and witness what their parents did each day. There were only about twenty employees total and, over half of you didn’t have children, so there weren’t that many kids in attendance. It was adorable at first. You got to meet your coworkers' kids and even got to snuggle with a five month old. You thought about texting Peter that you were coming down with a terrible case of baby fever but chose to wait until you saw him in person to spring the news on him.
It was supposed to be a good day.
Until it wasn’t.
“Hey,” your desk mate, Jenny, tapped you on the shoulder. She had her two twins in tow, Ollie and Ellie, the cutest set of four year olds you think you’d ever witnessed. “Would you mind watching these two while I run down to my car? I left my purse there. I’m parked in the garage just across the street. I shouldn’t be too long. It will take me ten times longer to drag them along with me.”
You beamed, more than happy to oblige and help fuel your growing need for your own kids, “I would love to!” You turned your attention to the twins and gave them a wink. “I even have a secret stash of lollipops hidden in my desk. I was hoping to find someone to share them with.”
Both their eyes lit up at the prospect of the sugary treats.
Ellie squealed, “You can share with us! We’re good at sharing! Right, Ollie?” She elbowed her brother and he happily nodded in agreement.
Jenny clasped her hands together in thanks, “You’re a lifesaver. I’ll be right back. You two be on your best behavior.” She ruffled the tops of their blonde heads before turning to hurry out of the office.
You pulled open your desk drawer to show them the pile of lollipops hidden in there. Your inherent sweet tooth was worth any potential cavities. The sugar helped you get through your days of uncertainty, never knowing if the paper would go under or not. You rolled your chair out of the way to let the kids grab what flavor they wanted.
Soon, the three of you stood around, lollipops sticking out of your mouths, while you waited for their mother to return.
“Did you guys have fun today?” You asked.
The twins both hopped into your chair, squished side by side, while you slowly spun them around.
Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Mommy let us watch Moana on her phone.”
That wasn’t exactly the answer you were looking for but a room full of introverted writers and stacks of newspapers everywhere wasn’t going to be the most fun for a young child.
“I love Moana,” you sighed happily. “Maybe I’ll watch that when I go home tonight.”
“I like Maui,” Ellie replied. “He’s funny. Will your mommy let you watch it on her phone?”
You were starting to get the sense that Ellie was the dominant one of the twins. Ollie mostly grinned up at you, staying silent, with big, round eyes and cherry red staining his lips from the lollipop. He was adorable and you wanted nothing more than to eat him up. You really needed a baby of your own…
“I don’t live with my mom anymore,” you answered.
“You live alone?” She gasped, looking sad for your wellbeing, as if living alone was the worst thing her little mind could ever think of.
You laughed, “No. I live with my boyfriend.”
Ellie made a long “ooooo” sound, followed by a fit of giggles, “A boyfriend! Is he handsome? Is he a prince?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself, knowing Peter would get a kick out of this conversation, “Yes, I think he is very handsome and, no, he’s not a prince. Not in the royal sense, at least.”
“I think Aladdin is handsome. I’m going to marry him,” Ellie paused to listen to what Ollie was now whispering in her ear. A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Ollie says he’s going to marry you when he grows up!”
They both burst into high pitched giggles.
“He thinks you’re pretty like Moana,” Ellie laughed.
“I would be honored to marry Ollie,” you smirked, growing fonder of these two the more time you spent with them. Jenny had tried to get you to babysit for them before. You think it might be time to accept that offer. Peter and you could play house for a night. “I think he’s as sweet as a lollipop.”
Ollie’s shoulders rose up to his ears as he shrunk into himself with a bashful smile, “I’m going to be Spider-Man when I turn 5. The real one. Not a pretend one.” His voice was hardly above a whisper and you had to lean forward to catch what he was saying.
“You mean I’ll get to marry Spider-Man?” You widen your eyes in feign shock. Peter would absolutely love this conversation. You knew he would be just as smitten as you. “That sounds like a dream come true.”
Ellie nudged his shoulder with hers, “He always says he loves Spider-Man because we saw him in real life one time. He swung above us when we were driving home from preschool. He waved at Ollie. It was so cool. We never saw a real live superhero before that. Mommy made us Spidey masks. I can tell her to make you one, too. Then we can all match.”
“That sounds amazing. I think Ollie would make a wonderful Spider-Man some day.”
“Are you guys talking about Spidey?” Harrison, the office college intern, strode up behind you with a coffee mug in hand. “He saved me one time. Some bad guys shoved me into an alley with guns to try and mug me. They were going to shoot me if I didn’t give them everything in my pockets.”
You shot him a death glare for talking about gun violence in front of the young children but he ignored you. He could tell he had them hooked with his story and was enjoying their attention. You rolled your eyes at the young man. You’d heard this tale about a hundred times before. He brought it up whenever he could. He finally had new and excited ears to listen to him.
“Were you scared?” Ollie asked, his eyes wide . “I never sawed a real gun before.”
“Yeah, I was so scared, but then something amazing happened.” Harrison knelt down to better hold their attention. “Spider-Man jumped down behind the bad guys. He was as silent as a cat. The bad guys didn’t even know he was there until he started talking.”
“What did he say?” Ellie whispered, leaning in closer to catch every word.
“He said, ‘Hey, assho- uh, I mean- hey, buttheads! You mind if I join in the fun?’ and then he started shooting his webs at them until they were all tangled up. He hung them off a street light like some human pinatas for the police to get. Then he came back with my wallet and phone in hand, tossed them over to me, patted me on the top of my head, and told me to enjoy my night.” Harrison ended his story with a satisfied sigh.
You had asked Peter about the validity of the interns story once. He claimed he couldn’t remember the exact insistence but that it sounded like something he would do. Then he started bragging about how shocked Harrison would be if he knew you were sleeping with the “world famous” Spider-Man. That was when you had shut him up with a kiss before his boasting became too much.
“I gotta go potty,” Ollie huffed, like it was such a shame to leave a conversation when they were discussing superheroes. You would have to get Peter to meet the kids some day in his suit. They would lose their minds. Actually, you should have him meet Harrison some time too, just to watch the young man fangirl.
“It’s down the hall,” You pointed him in the right direction. There was only a single bathroom on the floor that the entire office had to share.
Ollie jumped off the chair and made his way to the bathroom, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder at you.
“That’s the one!” You called to him. “You found it! Yell if you need any help.”
He smiled and disappeared inside.
“Did you get Spidey’s autograph?” Ellie asked Harison.
He shook his head, “Sorry, kiddo. Not that time. I was too shaken up. If I ever meet him again, I’ll make sure to snag one for ya.”
He tipped an invisible hat to the little girl and made his way back to his desk. Being the youngest in the office, he got stuck with the one directly next to the bathroom, in the spot no one else wanted. You watched him plop down into his rickety wooden chair and smile happily to himself. He was a good kid. Talented, with a lot of potential to be a future investigator and reporter.
You finished your lollipop and tossed the stick in the trash, “What else did you like doing while you were here besides watching Moana and talking about Spider-Man?”
Ellie shrugged, “Mommy let us color on some newspapers. I drew a cat farting out rainbows. We wanted to make a fort out of all the stacks of papers but she said it was too dangerous and might fall. She didn’t want us to get crushed. Can we look out the window to see if we can see her? I want to wave to her.”
“Sure. Come on,” You took her tiny hand and helped her hop down from the chair.
The best features of the old building were its large windows. They ran from the floor to the ceiling and had a beautiful arch at the top. They were the kind of windows you could happily stare out of for hours.
Ellie pressed her nose up against the pane, her breath fogging up the glass, “I don’t see her yet.”
You looked down, searching the sidewalks for Jenny, and shook your head, “Me either. I’m sure she’ll be back any moment. Keep an eye out for her.”
Your voice trailed off as something caught your attention. Two people were sprinting down the street, a look of sheer terror plastered on their face. Even from four floors up you could easily see how scared they were. The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly sprung to life as you watched more people round the corner. All running. All terrified. You couldn’t hear the screams behind the thick glass but you could see the way their faces contorted.
They were screaming for their lives.
You felt a strange disconnect between the people on the ground and yourself. Like watching a movie inside of a dream. They felt like they were in a different reality from your own. Behind the crowd appeared a giant ball of moving fire. It took a few seconds for your brain to process what you were seeing. The closer it got, the more you realized it wasn’t just fire. It was a man encased in the flames. At first you thought maybe he was on fire but then you realized he was the fire. He was controlling it and bending it to his will. He was what the people were running from. He was the danger they feared.
He tossed fistfulls of balled up flames towards the running people and haphazardly shot them off into the windows of every building he passed. He was creating a flaming destruction in his wake. A villain who wanted to watch the city burn.
And your building was next in line.
Your hand immediately went to grab onto the back of Ellie’s shirt as your own reality finally caught up to crash with the people below. You dragged her down onto the floor just in time for the big window to explode into shards of flying glass and rain down over the tops of your heads as a ball of fire burst to life against the back wall. The wood paneling went up in flames in a matter of seconds. People were screaming as chaos broke out. They were grabbing their children and sprinting towards the nearest exit. Loose pieces of newspaper floated down around you, some igniting on fire mid flight, and sizzling to soot before they hit the ground. Glass fell from your hair to trickle down under your collar and rolled down your back as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. Ellie was whimpering beside you, tears filling her eyes, and she reached a shaky hand out to hold onto yours. You gripped it tightly, noting that she had a small, bloody cut across her cheek from where the glass hit her.
“It’s okay,” you shouted to her. The wailing sounds of the fire alarm bursting to life deafened your words. You weren’t even sure Ellie could hear you but you were speaking more for yourself anyway. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We have to get up quickly and get out of here.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes and you read her lips form the words, “You’re bleeding…” She pointed a fearful finger near your forehead.
You reached up and felt a large, jagged piece of glass sticking out from over your eyebrow. You gripped onto the shard and pulled it from your skin. A rush of warm blood waterfalled down over your cheek, blurring into your eyes. You didn’t feel any pain.
“We have to get up,” you shouted to her again.
Ellie grabbed onto your hand as you both scrambled to your feet.
An old, wooden building and a floor covered in newspapers were no match for the ravenous fire. It was rapidly engulfing everything it could devour. In the short amount of time you spent on the ground, half your office was gone. Between the blinding, red hot glow of the flames and the white flashing lights of the fire alarm, mixed with the deafening sounds, you were overwhelmed and disoriented.
“Stairs…” You mumbled to yourself, trying to focus your panicked thoughts. “We have to get to the stairs.”
Thick black smoke was already starting to fill the small space. Whatever limited vision you had seconds ago was quickly dissipating. You caught a glimpse of your boss ushering out the last few remaining employees out of the door. His arm motioned for you before a wall of smoke blocked him from view. At least you had the right direction.
You tried your best to duck down low as you dragged Ellie behind you, keeping a death grip on her tiny hand, as you forged towards the direction of the stairs. She kept planting her heels into the ground and tugging against you. She was screaming something that couldn’t be heard over the wailing alarm.
You yanked her by the arm up to your side and wrapped her in a tight embrace, “Stop fighting me! It’s okay! I’m going to get us out!”
“Ollie!” She cried. “We have to get Ollie!”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. She was right.
Ollie was still in the bathroom.
Your eyes scanned the room. You couldn’t see more than two feet in front of you. The smoke was starting to irritate your eyes. They burned and watered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.
You scooped Ellie up into your arms and sprinted as fast as you could towards the exit. Your thigh crashed into the corner of a flaming desk, sending your body jerking in the opposite direction, but you ignored the sharp pain and did your best to blindly correct your course. If you could just pass Ellie off to your boss then at least you wouldn’t have to worry about her safety while you tried to find Ollie.
You stumbled to the exit, nearly slamming into the wall, only to find your boss already gone. You tried to pull open the door but reeled back when you felt white hot, searing pain burn into your palm. You couldn't hold back the scream of shock that burst out of you. The metal handle was impossible to hold onto with your bare skin. Thinking fast, you tried to wrap the bottom of your shirt around the handle to pull open the door. The pain still burned through the thin cotton but you managed to open it just enough to stick your foot through. You kicked the door open the rest of the way and shoved Ellie into the stairwell.
“Go down the stairs and out the door!” You shouted at her. “I’ll be right back!”
The stairwell was pitch black apart from the flashing white light of the fire alarm. It made it difficult for your eyes to gain their bearings, making you feel off balance, like walking through a funhouse at a carnival. Ellie stood frozen in place. Her entire body was shaking with fear. Black soot was staining her skin. Her eyes were watering, either from crying or the smoke, as they illuminated with each flash of the light. Her pant leg was soaked through with urine pooling by her feet. At some point she had lost a shoe. You knew she was too petrified to move.
“Ellie, go!” You tried to give her a small shove, knowing how important timing was to get to safety, but she didn’t budge.
“Ollie’s scared!” She cried. “He’s scared. We have to get him. Don’t leave us! I want mommy. I want mommy. Where’s my mommy?”
There was no time to think. No time to argue with her. No time to convince her. You were afraid that if you left her there, she wouldn’t move, or get lost, or trapped. You knew children’s instincts in fires were often to hide instead of run. You didn’t trust this 4 year old to make it out on her own. She would get lost in the crowds below. Swept away in a sea of people. You couldn’t leave her. The risk was too high. She had to come with you.
You lunged for her hand, forcing the two of you down to your knees to army crawl under the smoke. It was getting harder to even see your two hands in front of your face. Sweat dripped down your back. Your lungs were starting to ache as they filled with toxic gas. Both you and Ellie kept coughing but you dragged her along beside you, refusing to let her out of your grasp. You knew if you let go, you wouldn’t be able to find her again.
The wooden floors were heating up. Fire raged above you. It was on the ceiling now. Eating everything in its path. You prayed that Ollie was still inside the bathroom and that he was unharmed. You couldn’t see, struggled to breath, and your body was reaching unhealthy temperatures.
Down the hall.
That’s all you had to get to. Down the hall and first door on the right.
A charred, wooden beam fell from the ceiling and landed directly against your right arm. The flames licked at your exposed skin as the wood splintered and cracked. You flinched away from the pain, nearly crawling on top of Ellie to get away from the heat. Fire was on nearly every side of you now. The left, the right, and above all glowed orange in the darkness. Orange every way you looked. It seared your retinas until all you could see was the blinding light. The heat was forcing you down as low as your body could manage, pressed tightly against the floor.
You had no idea where in the office you were now. You didn’t know if you had traveled one foot or twenty. You just kept inching forward. You knew if you reached the back wall, you would have gone too far.
This was a mistake. You should have gotten Ellie out first. You were leading her straight to her death. The flames would eat you both alive.
The noise all faded into a constant loud roaring in your ears until it dulled into nothing like your ears decided to stop working. Instead, you felt the rumbling noise in your chest. Your brain was vibrating in your skull. Smoke blocked out the orange the further you crawled into the fire. It snuffed out everything in its wake. All you could see was black and all you could hear was your own blood pounding in your ears. It was like being in a terrible nightmare. If you closed your eyes, maybe you would wake up somewhere else. You felt like you were floating. Drifting. It was getting hard to breathe. You’d forgotten what fresh air felt like. Ellie was getting slower, too. You were having to drag her more. She was smaller than you. She would die first, you thought.
A canary in the coal mine.
You had to get to Ollie. And then what? You could hardly drag Ellie this far. There was no way you would be able to pull along two terrified children all the way back to the exit. There was no guarantee it would even still be accessible. This side of the building had no fire escapes. You’d get to the bathroom and then you’d be stuck. The three of you would be trapped inside. The fire was spreading too fast. You weren’t able to outrun it.
Your hands bumped into something on the floor. The bump was enough to recenter your attention. You felt around with your free hand wondering if you had gone too far and hit the back wall. You fumbled around you with touch being your only working sense. This was no wall. It was something soft. Fleshy. Your hand found fingers. You traced up their arm and over their shoulder until you found a face. You dragged your body closer and tried to see through blurry, smoke filled eyes who it was. It was only when you were centimeters from their face, your noses touching, that you could make out any features.
Harrison was staring back up at you. His bright blue eyes were unblinking. His face still. You shook his shoulder but his eyes showed no signs of life. Half of his face was bright red and outlined in charred black from where the fire had devoured his flesh. It had eaten him nearly down the skull. There was no breath in his lungs. No life in his eyes. He was gone.
Dead.
He had just turned 20 last month.
Harrison’s desk was right next to the bathroom.
That was the only thought you allowed yourself to think. Your emotions had disappeared along with your hearing. Your mind was set on a single track.
Get to the bathroom.
That was it.
That was the goal.
You crawled over Harrison’s body. Your knees sunk into his chest, feeling the crack of his ribs underneath you, as you pushed your weight off him to propel yourself forward. Ellie was like a dead weight, a ball and chain, attached to your arm that you had to drag along with you. Her head was lolling limply back and forth as you pulled her over the body after you. She wasn’t moving on her own anymore. Maybe she was dead, too. Maybe you were dragging the corpse of a child around. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You just had to get the two of you to the bathroom. Dead or alive.
You used your hand to feel along the wall for the bathroom door. The old wallpaper bubbled under your skin. A part of your brain was telling you that what you were touching was extremely hot and burning your flesh but, since you no longer felt anything, you didn’t stop until your fingers brushed over a hinge.
You scrambled around for the handle, gripping it tightly, and yanked open the door. Heavy black smoke immediately flooded into the tiny room. You quickly pulled Ellie and you onto the tiled floor and slammed the door closed with your foot. You lay staring up at the white ceiling being clouded with rising smoke. Your lungs sucked in the cleaner air. The fire hadn’t touched this room yet. Besides the smoke that you let in when you opened the door, it was relatively untouched.
An oasis amongst the desert sands.
You slowly let your eyes wander into the corner where Ollie sat huddled. His legs were pulled tight against his chest and his arms were clinging onto them. He stared at you with wide eyes, glancing tearfully between your soot covered face and his motionless sister.
A surprised laugh fell from your lips which quickly turned into another coughing fit. You rolled onto your side, hacking up black saliva over the white floor.
“You’re alive,” you croaked out to the scared little boy.
You forced yourself to sit up. Wads of wet paper towels were lined up on the ground. You realized Ollie had stuffed them under the door to stop the smoke. Smart kid. They have been pushed to the side when you opened the door. You quickly bent down to shove them back into the cracks, keeping the smoke at bay, and then turned to find Ellie.
She looked so small face down on the floor. Her pink t-shirt and blonde hair were now completely black. You rolled her onto her back in a daze. It was hard to think. Hard to move. You felt like your limbs were full of wet cement. You stumbled onto your feet, your head spinning with a pounding headache, and grabbed some brown paper towels from the dispenser. You tried to run them under the sink but the faucet wasn’t working so you dunked them into the toilet water instead. Then you turned to Ellie and began wiping the soot from her mouth and her blocked nostrils. Her chest rose with short, labored breaths. Her eyes were caked close from the greasy smoke residue so you tried your best to wipe them clean too. She was still alive but she wouldn’t be for much longer if she didn’t get out of here. There was no way you’d be able to carry her body back through those horrors with Ollie in tow. You were too weak. Too sick. The three of you were trapped. This would be your fiery coffin.
“Spider-Man will save us.”
Ollie’s tiny whisper hardly reached your broken ears. You gazed through half closed lids over your shoulder to look at the boy. You were starting to forget who he was or what his name was. His words felt foreign to you. All your thoughts were moving at a sluggish pace.
Spider-Man.
Save us.
Yes…yes…Peter.
You fumbled to grab your phone out of your pocket. Of course, Peter would save you. There was still hope.
The black grime coating your fingers wouldn’t let you use the touch screen and you let out a frustrated cry.
“Siri!” You whined, the desperation heavy in your tone. “Call Peter Parker.”
“Calling Peter Parker,” her pleasant, robotic tones echoed back to you. It was a stark contrast to the nightmare you were currently living through.
You sunk against the wall, slumping into yourself, feeling like the world was spinning. Peter would know about the man with the fire. He would know he was on your street. He would know it was your building. He would have been searching for you right now. You’d just have to stay awake long enough for him to find you.
It rang twice before his panicked voice answered, “Where are you? Tell me you're safe.” He sounded breathless and far away to you, like listening to an echo bouncing off an underpass. Your body was starting to shut down.
“Bathroom. Trapped.” It was all you could say before what little vision you had left started to fade. You didn't have much time left. The oxygen in the room was running out.
A small hand wrapped over your wrist as the boy snuggled up to your side.
Ollie. His name was Ollie.
Ollie and Ellie. The cutest set of twins you had ever seen.
It was supposed to be a good day.
“Spider-Man is on the phone,” you mumbled to the frightened child. “Talk to him. He’ll keep…keep…keep you safe…he’ll find you…”
Ollie picked up the phone. He was speaking into it but you couldn’t make out anything he was saying. You were floating away to wherever Ellie’s mind was currently being held. Someplace away from here. Away from the flames. Someplace without smoke. Somewhere you could breathe again.
You were going to close your eyes. Just for a minute…one, little, short minute…
A crashing rumble of bricks being smashed startled you back to life. You tried to take in what was happening but your brain was stuck in a haze. One of your hands was clutched onto the front of Ellie’s shirt and the other was holding onto Ollie. Someone else was in the room with you. It was smokier than it had been when you had closed your eyes. Time had passed, that much you knew, though you were unsure how much. Something was breaking a wall. Bricks were flying. It was filling the room with white smoke to compete with the black and blocking out whatever sunlight was attempting to push through the holes being created.
“It’s okay,” Ollie spoke into your ear as he curled up next to your side, noticing that you were awake again. “Spider-Man is here. He’s saving us just like you said.”
Peter.
Your sweet, beautiful Peter. You had no idea when he got here or how but he was here and he was breaking apart the side of the building with his bare hands so they could escape.
You tried to focus your attention on Ellie. Her eyes were open now and she was curled onto her side. She was weak but somehow she was still alive.
The masked face of Spider-Man appeared in your line of sight. His hands were on either side of your cheeks as he cradled your face in his palms.
“Stay with me. Don’t you drift off again. I’m getting you out of here.”
There was a steadfast determination in his voice. Many months ago he once told you that he refused to ever let you die. You had laughed at him then, telling him that was impossible, not even Peter Parker could control death. He had told you it didn’t matter. He would fight Death himself with nothing but his two fists if it meant getting to hold onto you for another day.
He had meant it then and he was proving it now.
“Get the kids first,” you croaked. “Get Ellie to an ambulance.”
“I can hold all of you at the same time!” He bent down to scoop Ellie into his arms. She offered no resistance but was too weak to hold onto him herself. Her head flopped against his shoulder and her eyes closed. Ollie leapt up into his other arm and clung tightly around his neck.
He couldn’t hold all of you and manage his webs at the same time. He was lying to himself and to you.
“Can you get on my back?” He tried to fight the reality he was being faced with. He didn’t want to leave you behind but you both knew the children needed to be evacuated first. As stubborn as he was, not even Peter would choose you over them. Children came first. Always. That was the life and sacrifice of a hero.
“Peter,” you ordered, forcing what little energy you had into your words. “Take the kids. Hurry. You’re wasting time.”
The fire was at the door. You could feel its heat on your back as you leaned against the wall. The smoke was pushing through the cracks. The wet paper towels had long since failed their duty at keeping it at bay. Time was slipping through your fingers.
“I’ll be right back!” He shouted. “Stay alive or I’m going to kill you.”
Then he was gone.
The smoke was becoming too much. The heat was getting too strong. It forced you to drag yourself across the floor towards the hole in the wall. You let your head hang outside, gulping at the fresh air as the black smoke rose above you. The smell of singed, burning hair hit your nose. You could see the ends sizzling orange from your peripheral vision. You were starting to feel pain again as some of your senses slowly returned. You looked down at the pavement four stories below you. It was getting too hot to bear. Your skin was screaming. A part of you wanted to keep dragging your body into the fresh air even if it meant you’d fall. For that one second of falling, you’d be free from the oppressive heat. Behind you meant death. In front of you meant death.
All that you had left was Peter.
At least the kids were out. If you were able to accomplish anything today, it was that.
Even if Peter did most of the work. You were able to start what he could finish.
Your lids felt heavy. Your breath was weezing. Your chest ached and your right fist was clenched close from the pain. The skin on your palm was black and peeling from where you had gripped onto the burning door handle. You wanted it all to be over.
The pavement never looked so enticing.
It was supposed to be a good day.
You dragged yourself further out the hole so your entire chest was now hanging over the edge. Your body was craving the clean air. It desperately wanted to escape the heat. You pulled yourself a little further. Inch by inch. Flirting with the idea of death.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
The scruff of your shirt was balled into a fist as you were lifted upright into the safety of Peter’s arms. You were swinging through the air. The wind in your face never felt so delicious as it slid down your shriveled lungs. He was holding you tightly to his chest and using one arm to swing you away from the burning building.
Tears sprung into your irritated, red eyes.
You were out. Free from the fire. Free from the smoke. Alive.
“I got you, baby,” he chirped against your ear. “I got you. I’m not letting you go anywhere I can’t follow.”
He landed softly on a rooftop a few blocks from the chaos. There were people who still needed his help. A villain to be fought. Damage control be done.
But he didn’t care about any of that.
Peter placed you delicately onto your bottom on the roof and he knelt down in front of you, tugging off his mask to get a proper look.
“I’m going to bring you straight to the hospital but I need to see you first,” he whispered. “I just need to look at you…make sure you’re still here with me.”
He slipped his hands free from his gloves to push back your singed hair from your face. He grabbed his mask to carefully wipe away some of the soot from your eyes.
“You look like you clawed your way straight outta hell,” he smiled down at you but his eyes held his real feelings of worry behind them. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. You both knew how close to losing you he had come today.
You cracked a half hearted smile of your own, “I think I did.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and a constant, high pitched shrieking sound kept ringing in your head.
“You’re okay,” he asked.
You weren’t sure if it was meant as a question for you to answer or a statement he was speaking to help ease his anxious heart.
“I’m okay,” you replied. “I’m alive, at least.”
The further away you got from the fire, the more pain you started to feel. It wasn’t just your hand that was hurting now, the pain was shooting all the way down your back, and your right arm felt stiff and unable to move.
“I told you I wouldn’t ever let you die. That’s not allowed. We’re going to die together, hand in hand, snuggled up in bed like The Notebook.” Peter leaned his forehead against your own and took a deep breath.
“Okay,” you mumbled, lost in the moment of softness, until the thought of Ellie and Ollie crashed to the surface. You gasped and jerked away, horror etched onto your face. “The twins!”
He tugged you to him, kissing your temple, “They’re safe. I send them off in an ambulance. I think the little boy will be fine. The girl looked like she was suffering from serious smoke inhalation. I had to give her CPR when I showed up. She wasn’t breathing. I got her to wake up. She’ll be seen right away. Speaking of which-” He stood back up, pulling his gloves and mask back on. “The hospital is exactly where we need to get you.”
Peter scooped you back into his arms and hopped onto the ledge of the roof, “You ready?”
“I’m ready.”
#the amazing spiderman#tasm#tasm x reader#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm peter#andrew garfield#spiderman x reader#tasm fic#peter parker fic#tasm writing bingo#bring your kids to work day#blooming violets#blooming violets fic
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Charles Lecrerc
Childhood friends to lovers
I've Loved You Since Before I Knew What Love Was
Pairings- Charles Leclerc x Childhoodbestfriend!Reader
Warnings- Mentions of cheating, Angst with a happy ending, not proof-read
Notes- This is pretty short but let me know if you would like a part 2. This is also my first one-shot so i do apologise is if it isn't very good- my writing is a work in progress!
Masterlist Requests
“Charles can I come over?”
It was two am and you just had a huge argument with your on-and-off again boyfriend. He had come home drunk again with lipstick marks on his shirt and scratches all over his back; casing a screaming match between the two of you that eventually ended up with you leaving your shared apartment telling him that you were over and that he’d never see you again. You’d be back tomorrow of course, you knew that, he knew that, and Charles knew that too. Which is why, when he woke up in the middle of the night to the ringtone he set specially for you, he didn’t need to ask why you were calling or why you needed to come over. This situation had happened a thousand times over; you have an argument with your boyfriend, so you phone him up begging him to let you stay at his apartment, he lets you come over and cry on his shoulder, sleep in his bed all the while hiding the feelings he’s had for you for as long as he can remember.
Charles had been your best friend since you were both 9 years old. He remembers the day he met you like it was yesterday, he thinks about it almost every day. You were sat all alone on the school playground, having just moved to Monaco from the UK. Due to your lack of knowledge of the French language most of the children had ignored you all day, apart from one. A young Charles Leclerc approached you, sat on the bench next to you and started a conversation in albeit broken English. Despite the language barrier, something clicked that day between the two of you and you had been best friends ever since. From that day on you were both completely inseparable, to the point that everyone who knew you thought you were together. Even though everytime somebody asked what was between the two of you, you just laughed it off stating that you were best friends but nothing more, Charles couldn’t help but think that you would eventually end up together; how could you not he used to think to himself, this is how the story is supposed to end. That was until your boyfriend came into the picture and Charles had to give himself a reality check, had to constantly remind himself that it was you and somebody else now, that he would never get a chance to show you how good he could love you.
Not only did Charles have to accept that you and him were now never going to happen, but he also had to accept that now you had a boyfriend, you didn’t have the same time that you used to have for him. The races you attended became few and far between, you would cancel plans with him, telling him that you were busy with work but then he would open Instagram and see that you were out with your boyfriend. The worst thing about it all for Charles was knowing that your boyfriend didn’t care about you, he didn’t appreciate you. Charles had heard from your own mouth all of the horrible things he had done to you. No matter what Charles did, no matter how well he had treated you for 16 years; he still came second to somebody who disrespected you, who cheated on you endlessly. There was nothing Charles could ever do to be enough for you, nothing he could do to make you love him like he loved you.
That’s why, when he got your call, when he heard you rambling about all the horrible things your boyfriend had done this time, he wanted to tell you not to come, to tell you to go and find a different shoulder to cry on. But of course, he didn’t do that, because before you were the girl who he loved hopelessly, you were his best friend; and he knew that no matter what he would always be there when his best friend needed him. So, he let you know that the key to his apartment was under the door mat like usual and he was already pouring two glasses of your favorite wine (the same wine he always kept a stash of despite not particularly enjoying it himself).
“I just don’t know why he keeps doing this. He tells me all the time that he loves me and that I’m the only one he wants, but then he comes home smelling like someone else” the same words you had spoken so many times tumbling from your mouth as you sat on Charles’ couch. He listens to every word you say, although he doesn’t need to, having heard them so many times he could give the advice he gave to you in his sleep. The advice he gives you is genuine; he tells you that you deserve more than somebody who treats you like that. This conversation is like muscle memory to him at this point, until you say something you havent said in any of the other conversations before- “But who else would want me? Have you ever thought that I go back to him because this is all I can get, all I deserve” Charles is stunned, he immediately wants to tell you that he’s right here and he’s loved you since before he knew what love was; but he doesn’t. He doesn’t tell you that because your friendship, even in this completely dysfunctional state, means too much to him to lose. Instead, he tells you that he knows that there's someone out there for you, you just have to find them. “You're such a good friend” you tell him and despite the fact that he knows that’s all he is and all he’ll ever be, the words hit him like a ton of bricks.
The next morning Charles wakes up on the couch and even though he already knows that he’ll find when he walks into his bedroom, he still goes to check. Just like every other time this has happened, you had left whilst he was still sleeping, leaving behind only a note that thanked him for his friendship. There is no doubt in his mind that your boyfriend had phoned you early hours of the morning to apologize and beg for your forgiveness, there is also no doubt in his mind that you had accepted his apologies and had gone home to kiss and make up with him and even though he had been through this situation more times that he can count, each time he can feel his heartbreaking a little more.
The next time he sees you is a month later, in a circumstance so similar to the one before that it would be humorous if it wasn’t so infuriating. The one difference was the patience that Charles had for the situation; he had a bad week at work, first you said you were going to come to the race and then just didn’t turn up, then a Ferrari strategy error fucked up his race so badly he ended up finishing P14. But in spite of all that, he still sat up talking with you until almost four in the morning. He was tired, angry and just plain sick of hurting so when your phone rang and the screen lit up with a nauseating picture of you and your boyfriend kissing, indicating who was phoning you, Charles simply took your phone and declined the call. “Charles what the fuck?” you asked him half angry half confused.
“Okay you need to listen to me. You can go and call that prick in a minute if you really want to but first you need to listen to me. I don’t even know who you are anymore. We have been best friends since we were children and yet the only time, I see you now is when you need me to comfort you. I get phone calls from your mum asking if you're okay because you go months at a time without even sending her so much as a text message. You are constantly disrespecting yourself by going back to the same person no matter what he does, and I have loved you too hard and for too long to be able to sit and watch it for any longer. I just can’t do it any-” his rant trails off once he catches sight of your shocked face and it dawns on him what he’s just said, “You love me?” you ask him with a trembling voice. He looks at you, looking up at him with your doe eyes wide, holding back tears. He stumbles over his words, trying to find some way to back track, to find a way to back to before he told you how he felt and ruined your friendship forever. Now is the time, you realize, now is the time to tell him everything you had never told him. The time to tell him that you had been pining over him since you met each other and that for so long you truly thought you would both be together, but when he made it into Formula 1 and you saw the endless models who you knew he could have at the drop of a hat, you realized you never stood a chance and forced yourself to move on. Now is the time to tell him how you constantly went back to your boyfriend no matter how he treated you, because you were trying to force yourself not to love Charles. Now was the time to tell him that you had loved Charles since before you knew what love was. But when you opened your mouth, nothing came out, years after years of suppressing those feelings had made it, so you were physically unable to voice them, so you did the next best thing. You leant over and connected your lips with his, letting the fireworks that erupted when your mouth touched his do the talking.
#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#f1 imagine#f1 angst#f1 fics
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alright fuck it. i can't sleep and i need to talk about this scene from the last episode of critical role.
because holy shit if this ain't some of the best rp – nay, storytelling in general – that i've ever seen. (buckle up, it ain't gonna be short.)
laudna: i made you a doll. because dolls are for children. and you're a child.
the way she says this is not nice! it's biting, it's snarky. she definitely seems to mean it as an insult – and she probably does! – at first. but laudna's idea of a child is much more expansive than just a cheep insult, as she makes clear shortly.
then ashton's response: i've never had a doll before. this is the nicest thing anyone's ever given me.
i don't know if this reaction melts laudna a little (if it does, she doesn't show it visibly), or maybe she was already coming to the conversation with a more nuanced definition of 'child', but either way, the conversation shifts immediately – and the next two sentences clarify where they're both coming from here.
laudna: i like children. // ashton: i don't.
she likes children! and we knew this, of course. marisha, the god of intentional rp showed us this within the first few moments of laudna's screen-time way back in episode 1. but still! it's worth repeating. despite the bite of her initial comment to ashton, she doesn't necessarily mean it as an insult. i don't know that we could entirely call it a compliment, given the context, but at the very least, i think she intended it as a point of connection.
after all, our data re: Laudna And Kids is not limited to that one scene from episode 1. there's also the parallel scene that mirrors it (with a happier ending) back in episode 38, when laudna first visits the sun tree after her resurrection. we also know (via a 4sd episode that i don't care to dig up right now) that laudna had another friend before imogen, who was a little girl.
and i think it's that little girl that's the most important piece here. we don't know anything about that story except that she exists, but i'm willing to read between the lines and make an assumption that laudna – on average – has better luck getting children to be kind to her (when they've not yet been taught to be cruel) than with adults. there is an innocence there that laudna needs! she needs people who haven't been hardened by assumptions and pre-judgements and all that bullshit. for laudna there is safety – both emotional and literal physical safety – in a childlike perspective.
ALL THAT TO SAY: laudna's associations with childhood are, generally, positive. for a variety of reasons.
but!
ashton's are NOT.
ashton's childhood sucked. from the jump. he was a part of a shitty cult that he barely remembers, and after that they were in an ophanage. their associations with childhood are overwhelmingly negative, and likely associated with feelings of helplessness and loneliness.
whether or not laudna intended that original comment ('you're a child') as an insult, we can pretty safely assume ashton took it as one.
they continue:
ashton: they're awful. // laudna: they're not.
NOW, we're getting into the meat of it. where before they were dancing around a metaphor, it becomes immediately clear what's really being talked about here. ashton is saying 'i'm awful', and laudna is emphatically saying 'no you're not.'
which! first of all, is so insanely generous of her. after what ashton just put her through less than 24 hours ago, laudna has every reason to affirm ashton's assertion that they are, in fact, awful. but she doesn't. ashton knows this, which is why he amends his original statement:
ashton: they can be.
they're saying: perhaps i can concede that i am not always awful, but let's at least agree that sometimes (like specificaly, oh, i don't know, LAST NIGHT) i can be.
laudna: you should remember what it's like to be one.
ashton: i do. it wasn't great.
the LAYERS, y'all. the LAYERS. the important thing here is that it's all in the context of that first comment: you're a child. which is, critically, a statement made in the context of ashton's decisions the previous night. they're talking in generalities here, but they're mostly talking about last night.
so!
when laudna says they should remember what it's like to be one [a child], she also means: you were a child last night, but not in a cool, whimsical way, just in a shitty, immature way. AND! when ashton says they remember, and that it wasn't great, they're saying they know they fucked up last night, but all they know of childhood is an overwhelming helplessness, how can that possibly be spun to a positive?
and this, really, is the crux of their two differing worldviews. these two have a lot in common – much has been said about that in game and out – but this point is where they split. laudna has survived, by embracing her childlike nature (admittedly, to a fault, at times). how to keep from being hurt? just keep everything fun and whimsical! nothing to worry about here, it's all just a silly little game! and she has also needed people who share that perspective. people who are willing to take her at face value and without any of the negative assumptions and prejudices they may have picked up along the way.
ashton, on the other hand survived by growing up immediately. they got through their own shitty childhood by becoming an adult (or acting like one anyway) as quickly as possible and STAYING that way. ashton needs to have a tough exterior (there's the made-of-stone thing again) to feel safe. (admittedly, from an audience perspective, this veneer is basically see-through. but ashton doesn't necessarily know this. they're trying their best. so from their perspective, the tough guy thing is Working.)
laudna: you should find more joy in your inner child.
she's saying two things here:
(1) you can be soft and be safe. those can co-exist, aND!
(2) i need you to be soft for me to be safe. when you have this false tough exterior, it hurts people. it hurts (hurt) me.
which is certainly a resonant metaphor to play with for the literal ROCK GUY who just got literally MELTED into LAVA 12 hours prior.
ANYWAY- that's what i've got for now on this scene. i'll probably never stop thinking about it, and there's even more good shit from later on in the scene when they talk about the doll, but that's it for now.
#critical role#laudna#ashton greymoore#my thoughts#cr3#bells hells#this SCENE you guys#i can't stop thinking about it.#it's just THAT good
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