#also no matter what i did i could not cover up that stray bit of collar in the second picture so i just said fuck it

[dilfsisko]

(Image ID: Two images of Hawkeye Pierce from the series MASH. In the first picture has been edited so he is wearing a medical uniform from Star Trek: The Original Series. The second image has been edited so he is wearing a medicul uniform from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. /end ID)

heehee hoo hoo mashtrek time

#els.png #im not sure which suits him more #i think the original series but don't quote me #also no matter what i did i could not cover up that stray bit of collar in the second picture so i just said fuck it #my edits #ok to reblog obviously #mashposting

[yandere-romanticaa]

A month has passed since a strange cult took you within its ranks. It wasn't necessarily by choice but it was something you needed to do in order to survive. Your entire village had been destroyed in a sudden onslaught of ferocious demons, massacring all of your friends and family.

You were left with nothing.

For days you had roamed the mountains and with a heavy heart had accepted the fact that you were going to die, be it from starvation, dehydration or some stray demon devouring you from head to toe.

Lord Douma had other things in store for you.

He was a strange one, the man who rescued you. He was oddly easy to amuse and absolutely everything you did was incredibly entertaining to him. One of his favorite past times were when he would simply stare at you as you talk about your life and perform everyday, mundane duties. At first you thought nothing of it - he saved your life, the least you could do was indulge him just a little bit.

Red flags started to show up soon though - the way he would move and carry himself, it simply was not natural. Whenever there was a meal, Douma would not even look at the food or even have a sip of water. You chalked it up to him having his own private meals and decided to think nothing of it.

You had managed to settle within a comfortable routine which just so happened to often cross paths with the great Lord himself. He seemed to greatly enjoy your presence and would have you with him from the moment the sun had risen until wee hours in the morning.

How was he never tired?

Suspicion slowly turned to fear as you noticed that some members of the cult were missing. No one knew what came of them or where they were last seen, as if some foul creature had spirited them away.

You brought up your concerns with Lord Douma but he just called you silly and told you not to worry about it. "Nothing bad will happen to you!" he'd say reassuringly but his words gave you shallow comfort.

Douma, for whatever reason, was also quite fond of physical touch and you were his favorite when it came to that. He was absolutely shameless and would explore your body however he saw fit. Amongst those odd trysts, you noticed that a powerful metallic smell would cling onto him and would never go away no matter how hard you washed his clothing.

No amount of praying could prepare you for the horror you'd encounter on one moonless evening.

You had woken up due to a strange noise and, against your better judgment, decided to investigate. With nothing but a single candle in your hand and a long but thin nightshirt covering your body, you ventures downwards the dark and creepy hallways. It felt as though the shadows themselves were out to get you because you'd flinch at every single sound no matter how miniscule. The closer you got to Lord Douma's chambers the stranger the noises got - giggling, slurping and crunching could be heard as a horrible stench filled the air, a smell so vile that it made you want to throw up your dinner. You'd often ask him what he liked to eat but naturally, Douma would just dodge your question or say something really silly. "It's easier if I eat alone!" he'd say as he caressed your hair. With each step you took the stench became stronger and stronger and Douma's words continued to ring inside your head like bells.

"You see, I'm a bit of a night owl! It's also not smart to come to my chambers without knocking first!~"

You should have listened to him and his thinly disguised warning.

Through the tiniest of cracks you saw Douma on the floor, covered in fresh blood. A wicked grin danced across his lips as he toyed with the severed limbs with the mauled corpse of a young woman, her eyes stricken with fear even in death.

It took you every ounce and willpower to not scream bloody murder.

With the way he was treating the corpse you'd think that Lord Douma was but a child with a precious toy. His light tone and playful gestures sent chills down your spine as you covered your mouth with your hand, a desperate attempt to conceal any potential noises that may escape you. You watched him for a few moments as you let it all sink in, not even realizing just how much your entire being trembled with fear. Just before you could make a break for it you heard Douma speak.

"I know you're there, watching me. I don't know who you are but I can smell you!"

Crap.

Dropping the candle to the floor you could do nothing but freeze as Douma continued to speak, total indifference lacing his voice.

"I would leave, if I were you. I am in a good mood tonight and shall play stupid so I won't turn around to see your face! Now, be a good little disciple and go back to bed!"

Squeaking like a helpless puppy, you ran away with your tail behind your legs, not realizing that Douma knew damn well that it was you. The demon could sense your presence across a giant mountain if need be and your sweet smell would invade his senses every time he would think about you. It was a shame that you saw him in such a state but he really did not want to kill you. He was content with playing dumb and hoped that it would be the same case for you as well.

As long as you kept your lips sealed, everything was going to be alright.

Part 2 here!

#he's so bbg (he would eat me without a second thought) #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #yandere demon slayer imagines #yandere demon slayer x reader #demon slayer douma #yandere douma x reader #douma #yandere douma #douma x reader #demon slayer x reader

[skyeslittlecorner]

Could I request any romantic headcanons for the Hades nobles? They just been stuck in my brain since Ch.5 and the current event, especially Glas and Foras 💜

They infect our brains like a plague and I have no intention of getting rid of them. Hades propaganda let's go! I like to write thematically, so how about spending some time with them before and during the ball at Hades?

Orias not included, because I have no idea how he will behave towards MC.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Together with Barbatos, you are to prepare the decorations. And no, you can't open all the windows and cover everything with roses. After a lively discussion, you came to the conclusion that rose petals, bouquets of flowers on columns and long ribbons would be decorative enough, but not extravagant. You stood on the ladder, pinning the folds of fabric under the silver flowers.

"None of this matters anyway." Barbatos spoke too melancholy for him.

"Why?"

"When you appear at the door, beautiful as the sun itself, all the decorations will fade in your light anyway. And since everything takes place in the evening, you will replace the real sun for us."

You fell off the ladder when you heard him. Literally. Luckily, the demon caught you with a wide smile as you covered your face with your hands with a groan. He smelled like a fresh meadow on a summer morning, and was just as radiant.

"You don't say things like that out of surprise!"

"If you keep falling into my arms like that, that's exactly what I'll be doing."

Even if you wanted to, you couldn't get mad at him.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Glasyalabolas is responsible for drinks and snacks. You had some bad feelings at first, but when you walked over the buffet, they all evaporated. You reached for the beautifully smelling punch. Before you grabbed the ladle, a large hand covered yours.

"It's not for you."

You turned on your heel, ready to be outraged, but then a mountain of a man placed a beautifully decorated glass of sweet-smelling wine in your hand.

"My queen should not drink the same as her subjects."

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. The wine was indeed surprisingly sweet, yet with a dry note.

"So what will your queen eat and drink at the party?"

"Let me present." He took you to a small table where the snacks looked surprisingly earthy. Emotion rose in your throat.

"Is this for me?"

"Only."

You took one of the macaroons and stood on your tiptoes to put it in the huge demon's mouth.

"So I'd like you to try them with me."

Only after the ball did you learn that everyone who drank the punch complained of an almond taste and stomach pain. The only thing that didn't taste suspicious was the snacks from the small table in the corner of the room...

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

The maids who were sent to help you get ready to go were finishing pinning up your hair and fixing your makeup when you heard a knock on the door. They mingled at your dressing table and left through the back door, whispering among themselves. They were nice, but you were a bit tired of all the preparations. Was all this really necessary?

"Please come in."

You saw the reflection of Foras entering in the mirror. Even though there's no loop around your neck, you've forgotten how to breathe. Instead of his usual uniform, he wore a formal suit, with a noose instead of a tie. You stood up to get a better look. And you saw there was delight on his face to rival yours.

"You look..." He couldn't find the words. He blinked, took your hand and leaned in to kiss it. "Perfect is too weak a word to describe you."

You no longer regret the time spent at the dressing table.

"You also."

"And lovely, too." He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead. "It's an honor to accompany you."

"Charmer."

You took his arm. His eyes said that he would rather stay here, keep you to himself and admire your beautiful appearance piece by piece, taking off your pins, jewelry, and finally your clothes, slowly, one by one, savoring each step. You felt the same way.

"I spent too much time getting ready to spoil it now. But once I show myself to the others, we can come back..."

"They don't deserve to look at you." It slipped out before he could stop himself.

You gripped his arm tighter, ran your fingers down his palm, along his long fingers and veins, and intertwined your hands. Even though you were both waiting for this ball, it suddenly started bothering you. All you needed was each other. But you both knew your responsibilities too well not to go.

[Pspsps, if you would like to see the continuation… ]

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Leviathan is perfect, as is the entire celebration. But he only appeared for a moment, at the beginning, and you never saw him again. It took a while for you to slip out and find him in the tower of the palace, looking out the window at the feast in the market square. He liked this place. He saw everything that was happening around him, and at the same time he was not surrounded by people. With you, the slow music from the ballroom came through the open door.

"The King of Hades is perfect, right?"

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but at least he finally noticed you.

"There should be no doubt about it."

"I wondered if he could dance perfectly too."

He pulled away and stood straight, one hand on his back and the other outstretched towards you. "What a cheap move. If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was say so."

But despite his perfect posture, you saw that he couldn't help himself and looked you up and down. You accepted his hand, placing the other on his shoulder. The silk shirt was as soft to the touch as the muscles you felt beneath it.

"In a perfect scenario, the prince should be the one to ask the princess to dance, you know?"

"This is life, not a fairy tale. I am the king. And you are not allowed to dance with any of the princes."

You giggled, but then he pulled your waist tighter to him. The music, the darkness of the room, the laughter coming from the market square and, above all, the charming man who guided your steps made you have to disagree with him.

"That's right. It's not a fairy tale." You whispered, dancing so close that you rested your head on his chest. "That's much better."

And even though you couldn't see it, or that's why, Leviathan lifted the corners of his mouth as he held you in his arms.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #whb foras #whb barbatos #whb glasyalabolas #skye's little talk #if you're curious cyanide may have an almond flavor #It won't hurt demons so much but you know it's better to keep it away from people

[promenadewithme]

The Viscount Who Deceived Me - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader, maybe a bit of Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader? (winkwink)

Warnings: angst, fluff, pining, unintentional friend-zone? read at your own risk

Word Count: 2.5K words

a/n: I have decided to turn this into a multiple part series and I really want to know whether you like this or not! All feedback is welcome and wanted.

By some miracle, the... commotion didn't reach any society papers. The Bridgertons, your mama, and the coachman managed to remain silent about the matter. And so did you. In fact, you had been completely silent since the moment you entered that carriage 3 days prior.

You wanted to scream and throw things. You wanted to do anything, have any reaction. However, all the feelings that tore you apart from the inside never reached the surface.

Not until you were alone, in the middle of the night. That was the only moment you allowed the silent tears to fall down your cheeks.

To the whole ton, you and Anthony were still that same engaged, happy, and loving couple who spread hope through the hearts of unwed ladies. Yet, that was no longer the truth of it, maybe it never really was.

Now you knew, but you were once just as fooled as the young souls who believed your love was true.

'There is no such thing.' you thought to yourself.

The blinds were still closed, but the faint light from the candle you had left burning the night before was enough for you to read the Whistledown from the day your heart shattered.

'this isn’t a vantageous marriage, but one of love.'

The phrase was etched into your head, having read it a thousand times already since your mind was restless the entire night, spiralling with theories about Anthony's affair.

'Had it been going on this entire time?'

'Did he ever truly love me?'

'Was I just a pawn in his game or did he realise I was not enough for him somewhere along the way?'

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts and had you lifting your head slightly from the pillow. Your mama walked in with the 'pity smile'. That's what you had decided to call it.

Ever since the night it happened, your mother would look at you with her head slightly tilted to the side, shoulders inward, and a pained look on her face that could only be considered a smile seeing that her mouth was slightly turned upward. It would have made you laugh, were you not in your constant state of heartache and misery.

"Good morning, my dear." she greeted, removing a stray hair from your face, and continued towards the curtains before asking "How are you this morning?"

You cringed at the sudden light and sank your head back to the pillow with a grunt.

Your mother huffed before strutting determinately to you.

"Today you shall leave this room." she said, removing your covers.

"Mother, please-" you started, but she cut you off.

"I have given you time to grieve for your broken heart, but it has been three days. This is the first time you have even spoken. It is time to stand up, hold your head high."

She grabbed your hands and gave you an encouraging smile.

"He said he loved me..." you whispered, eyes welling up again.

Your mother sat down with a sigh and wiped away a fallen tear. Leaning into her hand, you thanked the Lord for having a mother that was also a friend.

"My dear child," she felt her own tears threaten to fall "it pains me to see you like this."

"I am so sorry, mama..." you sobbed "I am sorry for not being good enough."

"Don't you say that!" she scolded, then added softly "Don't you dare say that."

You sniffled as she pulled you into her embrace.

"You are everything, my dear. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are courageous. You are well read. You are everything a mother, a friend or a husband could ever ask for and more." holding your shoulders, she tried to make you see, but you persisted.

"But I was not enough for Anthony."

"Anthony Bridgerton is a rake and a fool!" she exclaimed and you shushed her.

"You mustn't say such things. Word could go out about our broken betrothal."

"That is precisely what I have come to speak to you about." she said, eyes darting to the side before coming back to yours "Do you truly wish to end your betrothal?"

"Mama!" you shot up and she followed suit.

"Surely, you know that a love match is a rare occurrence. Men are never faithful to their wives and, as much as I truly believe you deserve only the best, we need be realistic."

"You mean to say that I should marry him only to be sent off to the country to live in eternal loneliness and misery while he lives a happy life with his mistress here in the city?" you gasped "What about everything you have just said?"

"My dear, I mean all that I have said to you, but being Viscountess... You will have a good life, a comfortable life. Most of us cannot have the luxury of waiting for true love to come around. I should not be telling you this, but..." she paused and lowered her voice "Your father is set on marrying you to Lord Hughes after what happened with your betrothed."

"Hughes?" you fell back on the bed "But he is older than Papa!"

'This cannot be happening.' you thought desperately.

"It is why I am telling you to make amends with the Bridgerton boy. None of them will be loyal to you and I wish that I could change it, but at least he is younger and doesn't have 3 deceased wives that died of mysterious causes."

"You and I both know that there is nothing mysterious about being pushed down the stairs." you were heaving "There must be another way, I..."

Your hand shot up to your stomach, as if that would stop the nausea.

Everything was wrong, everything was falling apart. If you could only turn back time and...

'What could I have done differently?' you pondered.

'Not fallen for Anthony? Maybe accepted the affections of any other gentleman? Who could tell if anything would be different or if all men are the same?'

You stood up with a determined gleam in your eyes.

"Mama, send for quill and paper. I shall have tea with the Bridgertons." you decided as you walked to your closet.

The moment your carriage pulled up to the Bridgerton house, Eloise came running out. Your valet opened the door and you were engulfed in a tight hug. The comforting smell of old books and something woodsy crowded your senses and you wrapped your arms around your friend.

"I never thought I'd see you again." she whispered against your hair "Thought my bedswerver of a brother had ruined us forever."

You pulled away to look into her eyes "Nothing could ever ruin us. We are best friends, it would take a whole lot more to chase me away from you."

She smiled and pulled you along "We best get inside, it is much too cold and the tea is already brewing."

Taking a deep breath and fixing your newest sapphire blue dress, you followed her into the familiar house. Your families had been connected since your infancy. The Dowager Viscountess had been a close friend to your mother ever since she had first wed the late Viscount Bridgeton. Your grandmama had taught them both all there was to know about being a good wife.

'I suppose it mustn't have been that hard to please someone who was head over heels in love with you already.' you thought.

You were only a child when Edmund Bridgerton passed, but you, as well as everyone else in the ton, would always remember the love between him and his wife.

A love you thought Anthony would have had with you.

Eloise pushed open the door to the drawing room where only her mama and Daphne sat. You sighed a breath of relief and curtsied.

"My dear girl." Violet stood and gave you a hug "I never expected to see you so soon, but I am glad you are here."

Her warm smile eased you, despite the ache you felt. His smell was here, his very essence in this house. You wanted so badly to hate him, but your good memories betrayed you.

Ice skating in the lake by the house, having ice cream at the parlour, horseback riding in the park, laughing until your stomach hurt, passing touches during balls.

“I cannot think of anything else, Siena.” he whispered before kissing her neck.

"One last night to remember.” he kissed her again.

The memories were like a slap and you fell back into reality, Violet's face replacing them.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Viscountess Bridgerton." you bowed your head.

"Please, my child. We are past that, I have told you time and time again to call me Violet." she caressed your arm with the tenderness of a mother.

"Forgive me, Violet..." you took a deep breath in and prayed to God that your tears only fell at home "Is Anthony home?"

"He left early this morning with a horse, but-"

As if sensing his presence being summoned, the doors to the drawing room flew open and Anthony walking in with searching eyes. They landed on you and he strode in your direction.

It looked like he was going to hug you, but he stopped less than a foot from you and took a step back.

"(y/n), I-" he started, but you could not bare to hear him, so you halted his words with a hand on his.

"My lord, I wish to apologise." you said bowing your head in what might have looked like a submissive stance, but was actually you swerving his piercing gaze.

"What?" exclaimed Eloise.

Anthony started speaking again, but you had to finish saying what you came to say. You had it all planned out in your mind and if you didn't go through with your speech, it might all go to ruins.

"I over-reacted. I know most men take on lovers before and during wed-lock, it is a normal occurrence and I had no right to condemn you for it." Bile rose up your throat, but you continued "I ask you to take me back, if you will still have me."

"Have you gone mad?" Eloise shook your shoulders.

"Please," you whispered, eyes stinging with unshed tears "Let me do this. I will explain everything later."

Your best friend looked disappointed, but took a step back. Your heart sunk even further into your chest.

Looking back at Anthony, you asked again "Will you have me, my lord?"

Eyebrows furrowed as ever, mouth agape with unspoken thoughts, he nodded once and pursed his lips in a frown.

You let out a pent up breath and forced a smile "I shall see you at the Cowper ball this evening, then?"

"Yes, but (y/n)-"

"I must go, I have a fitting at the modiste for tonight."

With a brief curtsy, you fled the room. Turning to run down the stairs, you bumped into Benedict.

"Whoa." he grabbed the handrail with one hand and your waist with the other to keep you both from falling.

Your chest bumped into his and you looked up, tears blurring your sight.

"(y/n)?" his voice sounded surprised. You could not see his face, but you would wager those expressive eyes of his also were. "What are you doing here? Why are you crying? What did he do?"

His thumb caught a fallen tear and he cupped your face, slowly stroking your cheek.

"Who do I have to beat up? Besides my dalcop brother, of course." he joked with that side smile of his and you answered with something between a laugh and a sob.

"Me. I fear the culprit is me this time."

His brows furrowed and you elaborated "I came to ask for your brother's forgiveness and if he would still have me."

His finger stopped "What?"

"It is a long story." you sighed, holding his arm.

"I have time." he offered and you smiled.

Truly smiled for the first time in 3 days.

"Very well, then. Walk me home?"

He offered his arm and answered "It would be my pleasure."

You took it and you both walked down the stairs and out of the house in comfortable silence.

"Do you remember old Hughes?" you asked and the Bridgerton twisted his face.

"The one who smells like a chimney and was around since before christ?"

You laughed "That's the one."

"What about him?" Ben asked and you stopped walking to look at him.

"After what happened with Anthony, my father started thinking of offering him my hand."

"Hughes?" he gasped.

"So, it was either asking if Anthony would still have me or marrying the oldest and most disgusting man this town has ever seen." You started walking again.

"That's not true." He murmured.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"There are countless other men who want your hand. Men who would treat you better than both of them. Love you like you deserve to be loved."

You saw your house and slowed your steps. Without any siblings, the closest thing you had to family, beside your mother, were the Bridgertons. They felt like home.

This felt like home.

"Well, if you know any, send them my way." you smiled softly, then added solemnly "My father insists on me getting married since I have already been out for 3 seasons. I have no other choice. If I did, I..."

You both stopped in front of your house, the sharp scent of geranium from your mother's garden invaded your nose.

"I don't know what I'd do. I don't even know if I believe in love anymore." you sighed in defeat.

"I don't believe that." said Benedict, holding your hands in his "You? Are we talking about the same person? The one who has read romance novels since always, picks wildflowers for her bedroom, stops to feel the wind against her hair, cries at the opera, and spends more time daydreaming than awake in the present?"

You smiled sheepishly and looked at your shoes. Benedict wouldn't have that. He put a finger under your chin and lifted your head.

His eyes were soft when he said "You are love personified. Nothing and no one will ever take that away. Any man would be the most fortunate being in this earth to spend the rest of their life by your side."

You were speechless as he kissed your hand and turned to leave.

You grabbed his arm before he could go "That was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me"

When he only looked down with a smile, you continued "I wish I could hug you without it being improper, you are like a brother to me after all."

"Well," his eyes fell "we all wish for things we cannot have."

Benedict lowered his lips to your hand in a lingering kiss.

"I will see you tonight."

Then he left.

a/n: this was initially just going to be a one part Anthony Bridgerton angst fic. However, I got so many request on part 1 to continue this, so I started thinking about where this could head and I have so much to write for this already. I absolutely pouring my heart and soul into this series for the past few days, so please tell me if it's good or absolute shit.

General Tag List: @crazy-beautiful @missryerye

Bridgerton Tag List: @dancingwith-sunflowers @for-bebbanburg @navs-bhat @elishi03 @s-unflowxr @thebreadisthetruevillian @peakyweirdo @lucyysthings @freyathehuntress @rach2602

People who asked for Part 2: @snixx2088 @acourtofbooksandfantasy @alldaysdreamer @dandansdays @freyagallileaevans @alldaysdreamers @lizziesfirstwife @theonewithallthemilkshakes @freyathehuntress @ilovehopelessromantics @venomsvl

Click here if you want to join any of my tag lists (ps: I added more fandoms and characters)

If you can and want to, buy me a Ko-Fi!

#fic #fics #fanfiction #bridgerton #abc bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #the bridgertons #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony x reader #eloise bridgerton x best friend! reader

[tenaciousduckpoetry]

Unresolved Feelings

Hobie has been nothing but nice to you, sadly, you can't return the favour

Warnings: angst, mention of death, canon events, bit of a Gwen x reader, but also Hobie x reader

"I can't even look at him Gwen." Your words came out trembling, eyes watering. "I can't look at him or talk to him. I-.. I can't go on another mission with him. I almost got us killed!" Your rambling was neverending. The look in your eyes sent chills down the Spider-Woman spine. Not once has she seen you so distraught. Dark bags covered your cheeks, pupils small and hair a mess. Your clothes were the same that you wore yesterday, meaning you probably slept in them.

"It's okay. We can talk to Miguel.. He'll understand." She said your name so softly, hands coming to rest upon your shaking shoulders. A hiccup slipped past your swollen lips and you almost started crying again. "I'm sure we can fix this." Gwen offered a sympathetic smile, thumbs wiping away any stray tears that dared to fall down your soft cheeks. "Come on, let's get you in some clean clothes and brush your hair. Then we can go talk to him, okay?" Her words were so sincere and comforting that you couldn't help but be embarrassed about your sudden emotional outbursts.

You nodded.

While getting ready, with Gwen pulling some clothes out for you to put on and helping you brush back your hair, you were completely lost in your thoughts. Hobie came to mind and the memories followed.

Hobie was your canon event. In your universe you worked as a variation of spider-man. Hobie was your best friend, your ride or die, the person you promised to look after no matter what; and you failed him. In a moment of quick thinking where you could have prevented his death, you faltered and instead, he ended up 6ft underground. The memories left a cool shudder running down your spine. Goosebumps formed across your arms and the hair at the back of your neck stood at attention.

"He won't understand, Gwen. This is useless." You spoke quietly, rubbing your face as if that was going to get rid of your eye bags. "This isn't going- you know what Miguel is like! If anything this will make it worse." You huffed through your nostrils.

Gwen just shook her head an rolled her eyes. "You're a pessimist." She sighed softly, squeezing your hand ever so gently. "I promise it will be fine."

Of course, by the time you had made it to Miguel's 'office' you were feeling a little bit better. Gwen had reassured you that Miguel might listen and you wouldn't have to see Hobie again. Part of that pained you.

The conversation went.. okay. As okay as it could go. You were now free from any interactions with Hobie Brown. You felt so conflicted.. Gwen understood your pain. Seeing such a close friend die and then to be confronted with that same person.. but not your own version is traumatizing. The amount of unresolved trauma that comes back is overwhelming; no wonder you wee getting no sleep.

On the way back to the lobby you were confronted with this unresolved feeling. The same punk rocker that you had been actively avoiding was marching his way towards you, a slight frown on his hollowed face. Your heart was racing, your head almost spinning. He stood in front of you and yet you couldn't move. Your feet were frozen, eyes staring into the deep brown of his own. You felt like crying again, but nothing came out.

"You've been avoiding me."

His words didn't come out as harsh or controlling, but rather concerned.

"Get out of my way."

"That doesn't change the fact that you've been avoiding me." Hobie said your name in the same way that your version did. Your shoulders shook slightly, head hung lowly.

"It doesn't fucking matter- okay? You didn't do anything! So get out of my way, Hobie!" Your words were harsh. Your tone was conflicting against your thoughts. No matter how much you wanted to run into those familiar lanky arms or playfully flick his chin, you couldn't, because this man wasn't your Hobie. The Hobie in front of you was a stranger. One that you only had superficial feelings too, and one that you could never be nice to.

The pained look he gave you made your heart ach within your chest. He didn't say anything and just stood to the side, taking a step out of your way. Your mouth moved but no words came out. Instead you forced your feet to move before you did anything that could have been even more stupid than your outburst. You left him standing there with your head now held high in an attempt to seem strong.

Hobie could see through your act. You couldn't fool him.

#hobie brown #dewdropwrites #x reader #astv headcannons #astv hobie #astv x reader #astv peter #hobie brown x reader #astv pavitr #astv spoilers #gwen x reader #across the spiderverse

[xerith-42]

*bats my eyes at you* spare some angsty headcanons perhaps?

Ask and you shall receive

Laurance is triggered by the smell of burning hair. Bro had hair down to his waist and then went into literal hell, I imagine so much of it caught on fire or was maybe even deliberately burnt, and it's such a distinct smell. It rarely happens, but if a stray spark from the fire accidentally catches on Cadenza's hair Laurance kind of freaks out a little. Fight or flight kicks in but he freezes but he also fights but he's also frozen and that smell is so awful he literally wants to rip his own skin off.

Katelyn doesn't ever think she'll love again. It's why she's so put off by Travis' advances, she just doesn't think it's a possibility. Every time she thinks about love she thinks about Jeffory. Seeing him on the island, even if it was an imp, did not help matters.

Kenmur still loves Sasha. He will always love Sasha. There is no amount of time that will stop him from loving her. Even if he also loves Emmalyn more than life itself, even if he's dedicated himself to his wife and his studies, there's still always that part of him that will answer to Sasha. Whenever she's around he can feel himself being pulled towards her just from the sound of her voice.

Zianna hates the sound of silence. So many years completely alone in such a huge estate. By the time Zane and Garroth disappeared, she was effectively estranged from her husband, only staying so they can maintain this cover of the Lord and Lady of O'Khasis. But their home is massive, designed for an entire family and then some. Even after Vylad and Garroth "died", Zane kept the house busy and often had Jury members present. The hollow emptiness of her home is nearly maddening for the poor woman.

The only reason Zianna never left is because she still held out hope for all of her sons. Zianna held out hope that any one of them would come stumbling in through the front door, likely beaten and bloody, and she would be able to take them into her arms and welcome them home.

This could very well turn into it's own post but here's a few small relic angst headcanons. Aph starts to lose her sense of self because sometimes she'll talk and it won't sound like her. They have mostly similar speech patterns, and she says things she would normally say, but it sounds like someone else, and she can never put her finger on it. Others notice, but nobody can quite figure out what's wrong with it. Until Zoey hears it and says it sounds familiar.

Travis usually likes to be a bit of a know-it-all, having a lot of random bits of trivia he's just learned from years of having nothing to do but entertain himself alone in a cabin, but sometimes the facts he gives are on subjects he never studied. He knows it's because of Enki's relic and he can't do anything about it. He hates how monotone his voice sounds whenever it happens, like he isn't even happy to know this information.

I'm sorry but we cannot gloss over how much turmoil Garroth would be over getting Esmunds relic after Zane already had it. He lies awake at night wondering what the three of them have in common, what he and Zane have in common at all. How could the protector bond with such a destructive awful man? How much is Garroth really like his brother? Can he even say he isn't like his brother if they were able to bond with the same relic?

Zoey may not have personally known all the previous relic holders, but she saw them. She was ten when Irene was walking among the mortals. Sometimes when she looks at her friends she sees... someone else. Someone so familiar, so similar to them, but the details aren't right. She can't tell if this is an effect of the relics or her own dwindling sanity/life force after giving up her immortality.

And entirely for myself because I will keep rewriting Aaron in my posts, Aaron feels such tremendous guilt like all the time. The survivors guilt has consumed everything he is, even the relationship that's supposed to be healing it. All he can think about is how he let everyone down, when he was supposed to lead them. Aaron wears the bandana not because he's hiding his identity, but to hide the permanently miserable look in his eyes.

#text post #minecraft diaries #laurance zvahl #minecraft diaries laurance #garroth ro'meave #mcd headcanons #mcd garroth #aphblr #mcd #aphmau minecraft diaries #travis valkrum #mcd travis #mcd zoey #zianna ro'meave #mcd kenmur #mcd emmalyn #mcd katelyn

[reccyls]

William's Chapter 0 Story

Yes I bought it... And boy, I like where it's going. I went a little more loose with this translation to try and capture the atmosphere better. As always, I make no guarantees about the accuracy.

Also, this doesn't really spoil anything. It mostly covers only the prologue.

---

If life were a fairytale, then achieving happiness would be a simple matter. Keep your hands clean, obey orders, be good and dutiful, and don't stray off safe and well-lit paths. However… if your heart yearns to go down a different road, then would quashing your true desires truly lead to a "happily ever after"? My answer? No.

---

William: "Slice your throat. Drag it out for as long as you can."

Not a single person that Crown has set their eye on has ever escaped. Tonight's target was no exception. The man couldn't even scream as his trembling hand raised a knife. I held in my hand an envelope I had found in this mansion, stamped with a "golden butterfly".

(That I'm seeing this once more means…) (Evil is something that cannot be stamped out through punishment alone.) (Not them… and not me.)

If you asked 100 different people what 'evil' was, you would get 100 different answers. Absolute evil does not exist. Rather, if it did, it would be something that lurked in every individual person's heart. Something that they found unforgiveable. Something that, if they forgave, would be betraying the essence of what made them, them.

(To me, that absolute evil is when one tramples over another's freedom.) (And the worst offender would be this "golden butterfly".)

I had no issues with doing harm so that I may pass judgement on those who commit the unforgiveable. If this were a story, that man and I would be painted with the same brush: evil.

Alfons: Quite a pathetic end, isn't it? Being ordered to "keep your mouth shut" so you can't even scream in your final moments.

Elbert: …It's because we'd be in trouble if his neighbors got suspicious.

Roger: Geez, what a convenient ability. I sure as hell wouldn't want you as an enemy.

William: Ahaha, I'll be sure to mark on my calendar if I plan on turning on you so you'll have ample warning.

Exchanging banter in the way only those accustomed to such sights can, I made my way over to the piano in the hall and sat down.

William: Since this is lying around, I suppose we can send him off with a song.

I wasn't thinking of any melody in particular. I simply let my fingers dance around the keys as they pleased.

Ellis: How wonderful. Now he'll be able to die a little bit happy, at least.

Jude: …Like hell he can. You crazy or something?

Everyone in Crown had their own way of facing someone's death. Those who sympathize, those who empathize, the cynics, the mourners, and those who saw such happenings as purely matter of fact.

(But what they all have in common is that they are all here of their own free will.)

However, not everyone has the ability to go where their hearts willed. At that moment, I recalled that desirous gaze I encountered earlier.

(It would be nice if that girl I met today could take a step towards realizing her desires.)

As the knife dug deep into the man's neck, as fresh blood spurted and gushed from his wound, that was what I was thinking.

--And then, the door to the hall slowly swung open.

Alfons: My, my, to think that we would have an audience.

(…That's…)

William: If it isn't the songbird I met this afternoon.

MC: U-um… what…?

I recognized the panicked woman who had grown pale at the gruesome sight before her. She was that postal worker I encountered earlier.

---

MC: Excuse me, sir, I need to deliver that.

A calm determination had settled in the gaze of the woman who came up to me, chasing a stray envelope.

William: Of course, my lady.

MC: …T-thank you.

William: My pleasure.

MC: …

I had handed her the envelope already, but she seemed to lose track of herself as she continued to stare at me.

(…Another one.)

People who had that look in their eyes almost always had something they were holding back. Things that they think they shouldn't say. I loved the moment when such people made a decision to voice whatever it was they were hiding. When I simply stared back at her silently, her calm gaze wavered slightly. And in that moment, I saw it: a glimmer of desire burning in her eyes. A surge of emotion, so strong that it was taking everything she had to suppress it.

"Lead me to another world." "Somewhere, anywhere."

Though her lips were pressed tightly together, it was as though I could hear her say those words.

(Ah.) (This won't do.)

I didn't know why, but she wanted change. There was desire burning within her, struggling to be set free. And yet… there was something else in her that was suppressing it.

(If she could freely follow her desires… I'm sure it would be beautiful.)

William: You have two deliveries left?

MC: …What? MC: I'm sorry, I spaced out-

William: You'd better hurry. It'll be dark soon.

(It's a shame, but I can't whisk you away.) (Even if that 'somewhere, anywhere' that you desired was the depths of the abyss.) (But… if you, of your own free will, were to take that first step…) (Perhaps we'll see each other again.)

---

(…Still, I didn't think it would be this soon. Or at a place like this.)

Liam: Is she a friend of yours, Will? Does she know about us too?

William: We met on the streets and had a chat, Liam, that's all. She doesn't know a thing about Crown.

Liam: Well, that's an issue. What to do…?

(If I told you to kill her for my sake, then I'm sure you would do it without hesitation.) (Though he'll live with the pain of taking a life even as he does it. What a commendable, lovable cat.)

Harrison: Terribly sorry about the scare, ma'am. But these are just props for a performance we're staging.

(…You never change, Harrison.)

Of course he'd try to give her an escape route. Though he appeared, he was truly strong at his core.

MC: N-no way…

Harrison: …You could have pretended to believe me for your sake, you know.

It was unfortunate, but her last chance to escape had just slipped by.

(Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised) (She came here because she had to, after all.)

Harrison: What do we do, Will?

William: It's obvious, isn't it? We take her to see the "Reaper of the Palace".

Jude: Tch… that's why I told you to lock the damn doors.

Roger: Haha, I didn't think that anyone would trespass into an obviously dark home. You're quite the bad girl, aren't you, little miss?

Ellis: Won't you come closer? It's not like you can escape, anyway.

As soon as she heard the word 'escape', her body stiffened. Her legs began to move.

(Sorry, but I can't let you go.) (You're a witness now, of course. But that's not the only reason.)

That one of her deliveries was to this mansion was surely a coincidence. But that she was standing here now was no coincidence at all.

(Even if the sound of the piano implied that there was still someone awake inside…) (There was no reason for a postal worker to enter an otherwise entirely deserted manor in the middle of the night.) (You chose to come here.) (Even if you haven't consciously realized it yourself…)

She took the first step.

William: Come here, poor little robin.

(Let me see more of it. That burning desire that brought you here.)

At my order, her legs began to walk her forward.

MC: S-stop…!

(Haha, and at last you're voicing her true desire.)

She stopped before me as if she was presenting herself. A splash of red stained her cheek.

(…Beautiful.)

Somehow, the color of deep sin suited her.

(If, of your own volition, you were to be dyed with blood in the future…) (…that would suit you far more than this stain now.)

William: Pardon me.

As I pulled her towards me, her eyes closed in fear.

William: That should do it.

After I wiped her cheek clean and released her, she staggered and collapsed to the floor, as if all her strength had escaped her. Her gaze, once calm and settled, now shook with emotion like a stormy sea. In her eyes I saw fear, confusion… and just a hint of anticipation. Of excitement.

(Yes, you are hiding something inside you.)

Something that made her leap without looking into the dark. Imagining being able to unravel that mystery made my heart race.

(This should be fun.)

William: I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is William. William Rex. William: I'm inviting you to dine with us tonight. Your name, honored guest?

(I'll fill you with love, as much as I can.)

So that you may be a flower that blooms beautifully in the darkness.

#ikemen villains #william (ikevill) #my translation

[fatuismooches]

Been stuck with the idea of a reader that constantly has animals following them around🤭🤭

Dottore doesn't understand it at all, he can glance away from you for only a second and when he looks back there's already a flock of birds surrounding them. They don't get it either, but at least the birds are very cute!

Dottore and reader are out on an expedition? There's a few foxes padding after them and birds flying over them. Dottore is trying to have a nice and quiet moment with them? Nope, there's deer nibbling on their hair and cats resting in their lap.

They can't take a nap outside either... they'll wake up covered with a bunch of cats on them. And it's worse when more dangerous animals start following after them... wolves, rishboland tigers, even a vishap one time... (No, Dottore will not let them keep any of them, no matter how cutely they pout and whine)

Some of the animals get hostile and guard them, even from Dottore (which he definitely finds irritating and even jealous when he sees them try to calm the animals down and cuddles them so nicely. That should be him! Not some random strays!)

Really, the only good thing coming out of it for Dottore is that he can get samples for testing more easily. Not that they want him to do that... I mean, how could you hurt a precious little fox when it's so cute?

I think Dottore would only really be a fan of corvids, considering that you can train them to bring items back to you, and he's definitely somewhat won over when a raven brings back some mechanical parts it found (he's not going to admit he likes the birds, quit staring at him like that)

SQUEALING I LOVE THIS DEARLY!!!! It's a bit funny and confusing to you how animals like someone like you so much... someone who's affiliated with Dottore of all people... but you'll take it! They're so cute anyway 🥰 I bet Dottore probably tried to study you and figure out what about you draws animals to you so much - your scent? Personality? Looks? Something internal? In the end, he couldn't figure it out, so he's just accepted that no matter what this is the reality now. At this point, he just brings you along for company... no work is being done, as least not effectively, by you when all these animals are stealing your attention ���

The first few times it happens, he thinks it's amusing, but then he realizes that Rishboland tigers are lying on your lap instead of him... and you're not even helping dissect the Ruin Guard with him 😡 Okay but consider: The Emerald Finch landing on Dottore's head 🥺 They're both blue and fluffy and you point out the similarities and he gets mad. NOT THE VISHAP THOUGH!! 😭 Though having a friendly vishap would be kind of cute 🥺 HEHE reader and Zandik going shopping for dorm supplies in the Akademiya but they get so sidetracked and behind time because cats keep swarming you 🥰 (He pets them a little bit because he has a soft spot because I said so)

Dottore getting kind of jealous is funny though... he never thought he would get jealous of something that's not even human. But, he knows at the end of the day, he's always your number one, the center of your world... as you are for him (completely obsessed with each other couple)

AWWWW THE CORVIDS HC 😭 His favs are definitely the crows and ravens (he literally has major bird themes/refs in his outfit, no way he isn't a fan 😭) You literally worked your ass off to train them, 1. because they're cute and 2. you wanted to prove Dottore wrong and you did. You know he adores those little things even though he shoo-es them away and then they start flying around his lab causing chaos. HELP i can just imagine him sending his bird to spy on other people now... I also personally hc Dottore as a cat enjoyer (because I'm biased) he likes how they're quiet, and when they fall asleep on his lap, but he gets so caught up in his work he forgets they're there though, and stands up and then the poor kitty just jumps up and runs away 😓

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #this makes me an unhealthy amount of happy #at one point the bird doesnt stop following around so he permanently has the lil guy perched on his shoulder which is embarrassing to him #(pantalone made fun of him) #the crow is the kinda guy to swoop in with a scapel for dottore just in time for when he's abt to dissect someone

[half-dead-ham]

Friends of a future

Soooo, instead of making continuations of all of the rest of my fics, I have instead decided to write another plot bunny!

I think this'll be my last bit of writing for now, as I wanna prepare for ship week. I got a few interesting things planned for it, so keep an eye out for some cool fics!

Ao3; [here]

~~~~~

Danny didn’t know where he was.

  Not that that was completely abnormal for him. He’d been tossed through enough portals and rips in space-time that at this point he didn’t question it too much. But this was a little different, if the similar consistency of smog and looming neomodern architecture was anything to go by.

  Not to mention that this shift was completely out of left field, usually he had some idea of how he got to a different time and/or place. Danny did think his being here in what he could only guess to be a future Gotham had something to do with where he was before, at least. So what happened before?

  Well.

  Danny had gotten a call. A call from the Justice League. A call to help deal with one of Lex Luthor’s newest inventions to deal with Superman and his posse of super friends with some sort of annihilation ray. That was pretty normal, as Danny had been on the roster for about a year and a half by now.

  They had beaten Luthor and his goons with only a little bit of a struggle, as alongside Danny, they had also called Shazam and a few other unorthodox heavy hitters to help deal with whatever Lex had up his sleeve. They had taken out Lex early on, and after they did the men Luthor had hired ran for the hills. Hopefully they still got their pay for this job.

  What else… They had just regrouped, and were waiting for the B team to come and safely dismantle the device Luthor had paraded around when it went off… Oh.

  It must’ve hit him.

  Or he moved someone out of the way of the beam? Everything was a little fuzzy at that point.

  What did Luthor say in his villain monologue about what his newest death ray did? Something about transferring particles to a dimension where they couldn’t arrange into anything of substance? Something along those lines. Maybe. Danny wasn’t really listening. But he does remember a stray magic blast hitting the machine, with some worrying sparks coming off it for a bit afterwards, so maybe its function was messed up a little because of that. Also Danny being made of an extradimensional substance that spans the multiverses might have something to do with it…

  The pain in Danny's back flared, reminding him where he was currently. Right. Gray sky, smells of smog, tall glass buildings and flying cars, billboards for unrecognizable products. Focus Fenton, focus.

  Reaching up, Danny grabbed the ledge of the crater he must’ve made as he fell. He sat up, noticing that he was currently on the roof of a building. Ancients, he hoped he didn’t have to pay for that. He peeled himself out of the Danny-shaped hole and stood, taking a better look astound with his better vantage. It seemed to be almost sunrise, if the mornings here were anything like the mornings in his Gotham, the smog that constantly covered the sky turning a lighter shade of gray to his right. So morning, maybe. New dimensions had weird natural laws sometimes, but for now let's go with morning.

  The flying cars were new, nothing like anything Danny’s seen while universe hopping for the League or CW, so another checkmark for this being a reality he hadn’t been to yet.

  Letting his feet leave the ground and turning invisible, Danny floated off the roof and towards the street below. Not many people were out walking at what he could only guess to be god awfully early, so the streets were quiet. The multi layered roads threw him off for a little, but he supposed if you had flying cars you didn’t really need roads. He wondered if this was actually the future, or if this was just some place more technologically advanced. (Did that matter? Was there a difference? Why was Danny so fixated on the fact there were flying cars here when he regularly meets with superheroes in a satellite?)

  “Good morning Neo-Gotham! Beautiful weather we're having, expect  partially cloudy with a seven percent chance of rain!”

  Danny’s head snapped to one of the display TV’s on the other side of the street, the announcer reading off the morning weather report. The TV display gave him good information within a few minutes of listening in after moving nearer to it.

  He was in Gotham, at least, a future version of it.

  It was a Tuesday.

  And he was at least thirty years ahead of his own time.

  Thirty years… Danny shook his head, no time to run down the rabbit hole of where he and his family might be at this point. For all he knew, he might not even exist in this universe.

  He flew straight up to better get his bearings. Even with the different look, Gotham was still familiar to him. Practically a third home away from home with how often he visited the city. A final look across the horizon and Danny started flying. There was one more thing he had learned from that TV.

  There was a Bat in this Gotham too.

     The trip to the Wayne estate was easy, though its look in this dimension was noticeably more gothic than the one he was used to. Even in the morning partial sun the house's figure cast an imposing shadow in the grounds. Still, the place said Wayine on the gate, so he knew there was someone in there he could plead his case to. Maybe he’d even get to see a grown up Damian. Now wouldn’t that be fun, a Damian Wayne all grown up and CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Danny had to snort at the idea.

  He floated himself through the front door, taking a moment to observe the almost familiar surroundings. Everything was… off. It was like someone had someone read a description of the manor's interior, then built a new manor off the description alone. It was large, with cavernous high ceilings in neutral grays, with entrances leading off to a sitting room and study. There were stairs and a hallway leading further into the manor and to the second floor, and Danny knew if he phased down he’d find a bat-shaped secret hiding in the basement.

  The whole place was eerily quiet though, and empty, and if Danny looked close enough he would be able to find dust on the frames hung on the walls. Alfred would never let it get dusty in here, and there would always be at least one person up by now. Maybe they’d all moved out? They weren’t really the ones he was here to see anyways.

  Now… would a certain Bat be up and about in the cave by now?

  Knowing Bruce, probably.

  Danny let his feet drift to the floor, then through the carpet. He sank through the ground, until he hit the pocket of caves hidden underneath the estate, illuminated only by the monitor and display case lights of Batman’s souvenirs.

  “Damn, even the cave got the uncanny valley treatment…” Danny grumbled to himself.

  He must’ve come at a bad time, as just before he regained tangibility a batarang flew through him, rebounding on one of the stalactites behind him.

  “Woah!” He exclaimed as he watched the throwing weapon clatter to the concrete floor. Danny whipped his head around to where the batarang had come from, only to see-

  “Holy shit, you’re so old!”

  A glower was all Danny received for his comment from the man sitting back down in his chair. The man -who Danny really hoped was Bruce, or his comment would be really insensitive- was built, wide in the shoulders and bulky, like he worked out regularly. Despite this he was hunched, shoulders slightly dropped as he held a cane in one hand. His gray hair and wrinkles made sense for his age, but Danny jokingly wondered just how early he had started getting that colour.

  “Phantom,” Danny perked up at that. Bruce knew who he was, that was a good sign.

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t come back to the mortal realm after you died,” Bruce added as he turned back to face the batcomputer.

  That was… Damn.

  … At least he knew there was another version of himself in this universe? Positive thoughts, Fenton, think positive thoughts.

  “Yeah, uh, ‘bout that, Bruce…” The older man kept his chair at a half turn, keeping one eye on Danny from his periphery as the ghost descended to the floor.

  Danny scratched at the back of his neck as he walked forward, stopping just far away enough that he wouldn’t make the bat overly paranoid. He didn’t know where to look as he explained this next bit, so he let his gaze wander over the memorabilia as he spoke.

  “So I’m not the Phantom you know?” He started, getting a single raised eyebrow in response. “Like, I’m probably at least somewhat similar since you recognized me, but… Y’know… League stuff came up, and I got hit with something…”

  “You’re saying that you are a Phantom from a different universe to this one, that was most likely hit with something that transported you here, to this dimension?” Bruce filled in. Danny smiled at that, letting his gaze rest on Bruce again.

  There was one thing you could always count on a bat for; their sharp minds and ability to read inbetween the lines.

  The half-ghost snapped his fingers and pointed at the seated bat, “Exactly!”

  Bruce just narrowed his stare as he inspected the being before him, taking a more in-depth look with their decreased distance. One long inspection later and the bat finally asks, “Why do you think I can help you?”

  Slightly confused, Danny deflated. “Uhhh, ‘cause you’re Batman? Even if you can’t help, there's still the League we can contact. One of the magic users has to have a spell that could send me back, right?”

  Bruce swings his chair back to face the batcomputer, hiding his expression away from Danny's view.

  “The League disbanded years ago, Phantom. I’m retired.”

  “What‽” Danny exclaims. “How are you retired‽ Everyone thought you’d be the caped crusader till you keeled over, and even then you’d fight out of your grave if you had to!”

  A huff was heard from behind the back of the chair. “I had a minor heart attack,” Bruce lied. Danny could smell the lie too, which meant that even for Batman it wasn’t good.

  Danny sighed. As much as he knew that was a lie, he also knew that right now Bruce was the only one that could possibly help him at that moment. He didn’t know what had happened to the other members of the League, and if what the man in front of him said was true (and that is a very real possibility) he wouldn’t even have a good way to contact them if he tried. Danny could let a blatant lie slide if it meant getting help.

  “Okay, so I got no Batman, no League, and no sure way to get home. My only options are to try a random portal in this dimensions’ Zone or wait to see if someone will come to my rescue.” Even as he mumbled them Danny knew neither option sounded good. Going into this dimension's version of the Ghost Zone would run the risk of not only him getting lost but also him finding himself from this universe. Danny didn’t know what this dimension’s version of him was like, but he could think of a few reasons for why he would swear off the mortal realm, none of which he particularly liked. As for getting lost…

  But the ‘stay where you are till help arrives’ method might not work in his favor either, if it was just that one blast that hit him that was changed by the magic, and not the whole weapon. Using the thing again would run the risk of someone ending up in a dimension they couldn’t be in, a thought that did very unhappy things for his core. That leaguer would effectively die trying to save Danny, and it would eat him up inside if that ever happened. Even if they did manage to get someone to this dimension using the weapon, that still left them with no way out. The person that came here to get him would be stuck here, same as Danny, unless they come with a fix-it to bring them home too.

  Who knows how long that would be in the first place. Days? Weeks?

  “Phantom,” an unusually soft tone broke Danny from his thousand yard stare. The ghost refocused to see Bruce giving him an uncharacteristically soft look. He tried to give a smile to the old bat, but he was sure Bruce wasn't fooled by it.

  “What’s up, B?” Danny asked with forced levity, to which the softness only grew.

  “You don’t have to figure this out on your own, you know. I may not be Batman anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m above helping someone in trouble.”

  “Even for someone you don’t actually know?” Danny hated how wet his voice had suddenly become.

  “If you’re anything like the Phantom of my universe,” Bruce gave a small grin. “Then I’d really just be returning the favour.”

  There were things behind that smile, stories and memories shared with someone who shared Danny’s face. If it were anyone but Bruce offering aid like this Danny would almost say it was out of pity. But Batman didn’t pity people, not like this.

  Danny chuckled wetly, clearing his throat before he spoke next. “Heh, you must be getting soft in your old age, B. I gotta remember to tease my Bruce about it when I get back.”

  Bruce rolled his eyes at the joke as he hefted himself out of his chair. “Come on, Phantom,” he called behind him as he shuffled to the stairs. “We need to get your cover story set up.”

  Danny just grinned away the damp in his eyes as he followed behind the older man, changing forms as he walked up the stairs.

~~~~~

     Terry had just come through the door to Wayne manor when he heard a voice. It was unusual, as regularly he met Mr. Wayne in the cave or outside when he had to chauffeur him to Wayne Powers Enterprise. The voice sounded young, maybe just a bit deeper than his. Terry followed it through the halls, keeping quiet in case it was just some robber trying to make a quick buck of a billionaire's stuff.

  “So you really think you can get paperwork for me while I stay here? Wouldn’t it be harder to forge an identity in the future than easier?”

  “You’d be surprised, technology has only gotten easier to hack into as advancements continued, and Wayne-Powers is usually at the forefront of that development nowadays.” That was… Mr. Wayne? And he sounded almost… Happy? Terry turned the corner to the kitchen, very confused at the tone his employer was using for the unfamiliar voice.

  Two heads turn to him from a small table by the window, two mugs of coffee steaming in front of them. Mr. Wayne was probably the most relaxed Terry had seen him outside of his public persona, just ‘cause he was sitting next to this, this, this guy.

  The dude was tall, and skinny. But like, the kind of skinny you get when you run or swim a lot? The kind of skinny that gave a guy lean muscles, even if said dude was trying to hide those muscles under a baggy sweater and loose jeans. Honestly he looked like he came out of one of his mom’s old yearbooks, with the old clothes and haircut, would fit right in with kids from when she was young, it was weird. The guy looked him over, eyebrows raised in mild surprise before turning to Mr. Wayne, eyes still trained on Terry.

  “So this is your new assistant? He looks… different to how I would imagine.” Terry bristled at the comment, and this guy just smirked at him in response! The nerve of this guy!

  “Terry,” Mr. Wayne redirects his gaze warning laced in his tone. “This is Danny Fenton, he’ll be staying with me for the foreseeable future and starting as my bodyguard.”

  Bodyguard? Bodyguard‽ Mr. Wayne doesn’t need a bodyguard! He was Batman! The guy could still throw Terry on his ass on a good day! Why would he hire this skinny dreg to be his bodyguard?

  “Is this telling me you’re replacing me, Mr. Wayne? Cause I’m sure I can take this dreg any day of the week, just give me a chance!” Terry begged as the two sat at the table just looked at him. After a few beats Danny burst out laughing; fully clutching his gut, tears in his eyes, gasping laughing.

  It was a little insulting.

  “Ancients! Oh Ancients, it's just like what I heard about when Tim and Jason met! Holy crap!” Danny managed to squeeze out between gasps as Mr. Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This didn’t relieve Terry, but it did make him so much more confused.

  “Terry,” Mr. Wayne huffed as Danny’s laughter started to die out. “Danny isn’t replacing you, he has his own hero persona. He’s simply going to be staying with me until he’s able to return from where he came from,” He explains.

  Well that was a relief, Terry dropped his shoulders as he relaxed slightly, still staring at the guy sitting with Mr. Wayne. Now Terry just had questions, like what did Mr. Wayne mean by ‘returning Danny to where he came from’? And who was Jason? 

  Mr. Wayne stood, moving to put his coffee mug in the sink for washing later while Danny took a sip of what was left in his. Silence fell on the kitchen then, Terry stewing in his questions, Mr. Wayne shuffled off to his study, leaving Terry and Danny in the kitchen alone.

  “So,” Terry drawls awkwardly as he moves to take up the spot on the table vacated by his employer. “You’re a hero?”

  Danny snorts into his mug, “Yeah, I am.”

  “Anyone I know?” Terry asks curiously. He’d met a few heroes since he started working for Mr. Wayne, but someone matching Danny's ice blue eyes and messy black hair didn’t fit anyone he knew.

  “Not likely,” Danny replied with a huff. “Apparently in this dimension I’m a dead recluse, so even if you had seen me, you wouldn’t’ve recognized me.”

  … What?

  “The hell you mean ‘I’m a dead recluse’? You’re either one or the other, no way you can be both.” A ‘dead recluse’ made zero sense, maybe he died a recluse? Or he’s so reclusive that everyone thought he was dead?

  Dany chuckled at the face Terry was making, laughing at his confusion. “Oh no, I’m definitely both,” he remarked. “Or, well, just one right now, I haven’t gone recluse yet and I hope I don’t for a while.” He added, glancing away with a thoughtful expression. Terry just scrunched his face up.

  “No offence, dude, but you don’t look dead?” Could he take offence to that? Terry didn’t know how someone could look so alive while dead (or is he just messing with him by saying he’s dead?) but Mr. Wayne had mentioned in passing a few of his old colleagues that have come back from the dead, so maybe it wasn’t that rare?

  “Also that doesn’t really answer my question,” he adds. “You’re a hero, and I’ve met a few heroes, so do I know you? Or of you maybe?”

  Danny tilted his head in thought, twisting his lips as he considered. Terry waited on baited breath as the teen across from him thought.

  “I don’t know?” He finally landed on. “Not really sure what you’re learning in school here, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” Danny took another sip of his coffee with a shrug.

  Well that was unhelpful.

  Terry was starting to get a weird feeling crawling up his spine, like someone pressing ice onto his back. Was he imagining things, or was Danny breathing slow? And not just like really deeply or holding his breath, no, like really slow. He just watched Danny for a minute, trying to count the seconds between the other teens' chest movements.

  Yeah, way too slow.

  Trying to forget that he noticed anything, he looked up, only to notice his hair. It was swaying slightly. The window behind them was closed, and there wasn’t a draft in the kitchen. Terry looked away entirely then, thinking he may have stayed up too late after patrol last night if he was starting to see things.

  “Okaaayyy,” Terry drawled, deciding that just looking at the guy was gonna make him question his sanity. “Who’s Jason then?” He asks instead to get the conversation going again.

  Danny froze, mug halfway to his lips. He turned to eye Terry with an odd expression, as though it should be obvious who Jason is.

  “Jason? Y’know, Jason Todd?” Danny tries, only to receive a blank look from the other teen. “Jason Todd? The second Robin Jason Todd? The Red Hood Jason Todd? Crime lord and anti-hero extraordinaire?” Danny tried to keep up the lines, but nothing sparks recognition in Terry. Was there ever a crime lord in old Gotham named Red Hood?

  “The second Robin was Tim Drake?” Terry corrects confusedly, receiving a shocked expression from the other end of the table.

  “No? Tim was the third?” Now both of them were lost. They stared at each other, confused and concerned. Terry knew there was no third Robin, unless you counted commissioner Gordon as Batgirl, but it didn’t make a lot of sense if you counted her. Danny’s face twisted so much it looked like it hurt (and hurt to look at) until something passed and the look cleared, leaving comprehension, like a light blinked on over his head.

  Terry followed as Danny stood up, heading straight for the hallway and leaving his mug on the counter, leaving Terry to clean it up. Putting the cup in the sink beside the other one, Terry hurried to catch up to the other teen, jogging as he saw Danny duck into Mr. Waynes’ study. He made it just in time to catch Danny walking through the grandfather clock.

     Danny speed-walked into Bruce’s office, eyes set on the grandfather clock against the wall.

  “Gonna go into the cave for a sec’ B, somethin’ I wanna double check.” He didn’t wait for an answer before he phased through the clock and descended the stone stairs into the basement. Jumping the last three stairs, Danny turned to face the costume display.

  The five costume displays.

  The old Batman suit, the Nightwing suit, the first Batgirl suit, and Tim’s Robin suit. The last case is empty, but that hardly matters.

  “Where are the rest?” Danny mumbles to himself forlornly, searching for where the other suits might be stored. There’s nothing. No Orphan suit, No trace of Damian’s weapons, none of Jason’s extra helmets. Just the four suits in five cases.

  “What do you mean, ‘where’s the rest?’” The new kid, -the one that looks like Damian but wrong- Terry panted as he half-ran down the stairs.

  “I mean, where are the other suits? Where’s Orphan? Signal? Spoiler? Red Robin? Even if they moved out Bruce would still have a duplicate of their suit!” Danny’s voice was rising to something slightly hysterical, but there was just no way Bruce didn’t adopt the others here. It was Bruce's thing! He had an adoption problem, everyone knew that! His kids made fun of him for that!

  “Those other heroes? I haven’t met them if they are, and I don’t know why you would think Mr. Wayne would keep their suits on display.”

  Danny felt heavy at those words. Heavier than even before he died. His knees gave out under the weight and Danny sank to the floor, thoughts going a hundred miles an hour under a sheet of ice.

  Terry didn’t know Red Robin even though he knew Tim? Did Bruce just never meet Jason as a kid? Damian’s mom just never dropped him off at the manor? Was he even born? Was Cass being used as a weapon for the League of Assassins here like she was going to be in his universe? Where was Steph? Were Duke's parents still in the hospital? Batwoman? BlueJay?

  Did they just not exist here?

  Danny’s ears were ringing too loud with his questions. He didn't notice Terry (Blue eyes, angular jaw and cheekbones like Damian but the eyeswerewrong) kneeling down in front of him, confused and worried, until he was flinching back from a hand on his shoulder. Groaning, Danny leaned back on one arm, grinding the other hand's palm into his eye to ground himself.

  Now was not the time, Fenton. You do not freak out about universal differences on the floor of the batcave with some random Bruce adoptee in front of you. Get it together.

  Taking a large breath in through his nose, Danny took a moment to clear those panicked thoughts, pushing them in a far off corner of his mind to be addressed later, preferably alone (probably while he was trying to sleep) and shutting a mental lid on them with an exhale through the mouth.

  Okay. Okay okay okay okay. He can do this. Just, breathe.

  Danny opened his eyes, not remembering when he closed them, to see Terry still crouched in front of him looking like he was trying not to look concerned. He was failing.

  “Terry,” Danny murmured, “I’m going to say some names, and I want you to tell me, yes or no, if you know them.”

  “But wh-”

  “Just, please.” he stressed, “I just really need to know if you know these names.”

  Terry’s face contorted, but he gave a nod. Giving himself a moment, Danny collected himself enough for whatever potential outcome he could receive with this. He can do this, it’ll be okay.

  “Dick Grayson-” “Yes,”

“Stephanie Brown-” “No,”

“Barbara Gordon-” “Yes,”

“Cassandra Cain-” “No,”

“Duke Thomas-” “No,”

“Selina Kyle-” “Yes,”

“Kathrine Kane-” “No,”

  Okay. That's four to three against him. Danny didn't know how to feel about that exactly, but it wasn't great. He had one more name on the tip of his tongue, but with how things were going he didn’t know if he should say it. If Damian did exist in this universe, then he had the potential to put everyone around him in danger just by saying his name, something he wouldn’t stand for. If he didn’t… Terry was loyal to Bruce, and Danny didn’t want to get the old man’s blood pressure up with any of the names attached to the youngest Robin. Damian was the last one to check, but could he deal with almost every one of the bats he was close with not existing here?

  “Damian,” he pushed out after a long moment, unable to decide on the ‘Wayne’ or ‘Al Ghul’ surname.

  “What, no last name?” Terry asked sarcastically, to which Danny gave an eye roll and a shake of his head.

  Terry sighed, standing up to let his strained legs stretch. “Then that's a definite ‘no’. Was that the last one, or are we playing more guess who?”

  Danny huffed, putting his own feet under him to stand as well. He began to walk back to the stairs, not really sure what he should be thinking right about now, so he deflected instead. “They still make that old game?”

  There was a set of eyes boring into the back of his head, Danny could feel them, but he ignored them as he started trudging up. A grumble from behind him, followed by soft steps and Terry was on his right, looking every inch the irritated teen he probably usually portrayed to others. There was still that undercurrent of concern, but it was mostly covered by the glare he was shooting Danny’s way. Danny didn’t mind, this new kid had yet to master the bat-glare, so he was basically trying to melt a glacier with a hairdryer.

~~~~~

     Mr. Wayne was still in the study when the two came up. Terry was trying to glare a hole into the side of Danny’s face, with little results.

  “Ah, Danny, Terry, I just got a call from Wayne-Powers, there's going to be an urgent meeting there in about half an hour, so I need you both to get ready.”

  They watched as Danny gave an absent nod as he walked out the door and down the hall, silent as a mouse and deep in thought.

  Terry turned to Mr. Wayne, who let out a huff at the other teen. Teenagers.

  “So,” he drawled, “you gonna tell me what his deal is? ‘Cause that guy is seriously cryptic.”

  “Not surprising,” Mr. Wayne replied with a small shake of his head. “Do you know why he needed to go down there all of a sudden?”

  “Not really,” Terry turned his head back to the doorway, trying to listen for the other teen moving through the house. He couldn’t, and that unnerved him. “He just looked at the suit displays, had a bit of a meltdown, then asked me if I knew a bunch of names.”

  “And did you?” Mr. Wayne asked in the way he did when he started getting into detective mode.

  “Some I did, some I didn’t. I already made a file on the computer you can take a look at later.”

  A hum made its way from the space behind Terry, then the creak of the old chair sounded as Mr. Wayne heaved his way out of it. He shuffled his way over to Terry, placing a hand on his assistant's shoulder.

  “Be careful Terry, he may be friendly, but he isn’t from this dimension. There's no telling what he could be keeping from us. Make sure to take note of everything, no matter how small it may seem.”

  Terry nodded, taking a second to process what his mentor had told him as he watched the retired vigilante shuffle out the door. His brain finally caught up with what was said as Mr. Wayne rounded the corner.

  “Wait, another dimension? Mr. Wayne wait!-”

#Batman beyond x Danny Phantom #danny phantom #batman beyond #terry mcginnis #danny fenton #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp fic #dp x dc fanfic

[gagmewitha-spork]

Flirt (Klara Bühl x reader)

Warnings: angst. also it’s vvvvvvv long.

Description: Klara has the feels for reader but reader is a flirt and there’s lots of miscommunication.

Notes: requested about 3 months ago, like I started this at the start of november. I think I kinda strayed from the original request a little bit… but hopefully the length makes up for that and the time I took to write it :)

“reader joins bayern after the euros and is English and joins bayern from Chelsea and they get close and develop a crush on each other and they ask each other out in the end”

Word Count: 5117

Your move from Chelsea to Bayern Munich was big, one of the biggest signings of the year in fact. It was no Keira Walsh to Barca level move, but the German club had paid a considerable amount of money to buy out the last year of your contract with Chelsea, and the blues had clung onto you right until the last minute. But in the end, they had respected your wishes to move, understanding that it was what was best for you.

Being at Chelsea was great, you had grown up there, having come up through the academy system at the club, but you needed to play somewhere you could guarantee you would get consistent minutes and a frequent starting position, and with the sheer amount of defensive talent, and just talent in general at Chelsea, it was difficult to get the minutes you were looking for.

You’d had an incredible summer with the lionesses, coming in as a one of the ‘super-subs’ at around the 60th minute every game, taking over from Rachel Daly as LB. You had quickly been recognised as one of the best young players at the tournament and had made a bit of a name for yourself, working high up the pitch on the left wing, sending in crosses that had resulted in quite the number of assists to your name. Your pace and endurance also meant that you could cover a lot of ground and sit high up on the wings while still being able to get back down the pitch into a defensive position when needed, which had come in handy in a few games, especially against the likes of Spain and Germany.

You had now been in the Bavarian capital for around 5 months and had settled in well. Having Georgia there with you made everything a lot easier, plus having had a few German lessons from Pernille before leaving London made things much easier too. You definitely wouldn’t claim you were anywhere near being fluent, but she had taught you most of the basics, including several phrases she had insisted you would be likely to hear on the pitch or during training, and your lessons with the teacher provided by the club were going well.

Both you and Georgia had quickly made friends with the a few of the Germans, most specifically Lina Magull, Sydney Lohman and Klara Bühl. The five of you had become known among the squad for being loud and always laughing about something, though if you were to have a say, you’d put most of it on Lina, Syd and Georgia. The three of them together were a bunch idiots, while yourself and Klara enjoyed sitting back and enjoying the free comedy show they put on, occasionally chiming in to fuel the fire when they would briefly die down.

Your relationship with Klara had gradually become less friendly and more flirty as the months had gone by. You generally had quite a flirty personality anyway, and had developed a bit of a reputation. Fans would often post edits of you on twitter flirting with refs and players, both on your own team and others. You were charming, but Klara had seen the edits, and was well aware of your reputation, so no matter how much her heart would flutter every time you sent a flirty remark or wink her way, her head told her you did it with everyone so it didn’t mean anything.

The way you were looking at her now though, almost made her weak at the knees.

The team were stood in the middle of the Allianz doing a pitch inspection, and you had just joined everyone in the centre circle after having done your usual ritual of speaking to the grass and asking it to be nice to you and your teammates for todays game.

You now stood opposite Klara in the circle, you had caught her looking your way and had immediately sent her one of your signature smirks. Going against everything her body was telling her to do, she managed to maintain some eye contact with you, and as a result she saw a seemingly impressed look cross your face before you broke the eye contact at your name being called.

You looked over your shoulder and instantly a bright grin broke out on your face, a grin that made Klara follow your eye line to find the source of your sudden happiness. Her eyes landed on a group of Barcelona players, but as you left the circle of your teammates and made your way towards them, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t either of your England teammates, Keira Walsh or Lucy Bronze, who you leapt into the arms of. Instead it was Mariona Caldentey, a Spanish player.

A frown formed on Klara’s face as she watched you interact with the Spaniard, your usual flirty demeanour evident to her even from this far away. How did you even know any of the Spanish players, she thought to herself.

Right on cue, two more joined the pair of you. It was Patri Guijarro and Claudia Pina. You hugged them both in greeting, but instead of separating from the youngest of the three like you had the others, you stayed with your arms wrapped around the smaller girls shoulders from behind. You pulled her close into your front, kissing her cheek and saying something into her ear that made her giggle. Klara couldn’t bring herself to take hers eyes off of you. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and she was reminded for the umpteenth time that when you flirted with her, it was no different to you than from when you flirted with anyone else.

“How does y/n know the Barca players?”, Klara suddenly found herself asking Syd. Her German teammate only shrugged her shoulders in response.

Klara kept watching you, how you interacted with Mariona and Patri, and especially how you kept Claudia close, the four of you laughing at whatever you were talking about. Her mind reeled with potential reasons as to why or how you might know any of them. She couldn’t come up with one.

In the end, as you separated yourself from the opposition players, placing another kiss to Claudia’s cheek as you did, and everyone started making their way back into the dressing rooms, Klara concluded several things. 1. She was definitely falling for you. Why else would seeing you interact with another girl like that affect her this much? 2. She was too far gone to stop now, and 3. You were clearly in some kind of relationship with the young Barca forward. Which sucked given her other two revelations.

She masterfully avoided you for the majority of warm ups, and sat beside Georgia during half time. You didn’t seem to notice the lack of her presence by your side. Which only caused her heart to shatter further. She may have avoided you but that didn’t mean she didn’t watch.

You had a lot of habits, and doing an obscene amount of stretching during half time was one of them. In the past she had teased you for it, saying you did it on purpose to show off. Now all she could do was watch and hate the fact that she’d seemingly missed her chance with you. Not that she ever really had one anyway. Why would you choose her over the beautifully tanned perfection of an up and coming Spanish superstar?

Soon enough the team was making their way back out onto the pitch and the second half was under way.

The game ended with Bayern winning, and the team celebrated almost like they had just won the whole competition. Barcelona were a tough side, but Bayern had been the better team and the result showed that.

Klara felt a weight jump on her back as she walked around the side of the pitch with everyone. Without needing to look back she knew it was you, the abundance of intricately linked tattoos on your arms was a dead giveaway, and she wouldn’t admit it, but she had practically memorised the feel of your body pressed against her own.

“Wir sind die meister!”, you shouted in her ear, she laughed, the pronunciation was off, but it was close enough, “we should celebrate”, you continued, remaining on her back, your arms, and now legs too, wrapped around her as she carried you, still applauding the fans as she walked.

“Is that not what we’re doing?”, she questioned you, laughing again at your excited demeanour.

“Nein!”, you shout, a bit too loud for how close you were to her ear, “I mean celebrate properly”, you insist, “go out, eat great food, have a few drinks, it’s almost Christmas anyway”.

“We have a game in three days y/n”, Klara points out.

“I didn’t say anything about alcohol”, you defended, “we’ll save that for the end of year party”, you said, and jumped off of her back, but not before planting a kiss on her cheek. Klara felt a warmth instantly start creeping it’s way up her neck, but thankfully you were too distracted to realise.

The two of you continued your lap around the pitch, your arm stayed slung over Klara’s shoulder for as long as possible, only leaving her side a few times to sign shirts or take photos with a few fans. But you came straight back to her side every time.

So much for avoiding you, Klara thought to herself. The bead of hope that had found a home in her heart was growing again, much to her dismay, but maybe you did like her back…

She shook her head, deciding to just be in the moment instead of overthinking every little thing you did. For now at least.

After about half an hour the team gradually started making their way back inside the dressing rooms. You had disappeared inside a little earlier than Klara, so were already finished showering by the time she got in. She had just finished getting out of her match kit and was about to head to the showers when you caught her arm.

“So we’re going for food tonight right?”, you asked her.

“Oh yeah sure, who else is coming”, she asked, assuming there would be a group of you going.

“Just us”, you replied simply. She failed to keep the slight look of shock off her face, but ended up getting it together and sending you a smile.

“Okay, cool”, she said calmly, though on the inside, she was freaking out.

You let go of the light grip you had in her arm and she made her way into the showers, taking a moment once she was out of sight of everyone to let out some of her internal excitement, before getting on with her shower.

About ten minutes later she emerged from the showers to find you were no longer in the dressing room. She didn’t think too much of it, assuming you were probably just with the physio or something.

“Did y/n say how long she’d be?”, she asked a few of the girls who were still sat around getting ready to leave.

Most of the just shrugged in response, but Lea, with a careful look on her face, spoke.

“She didn’t say, but someone knocked on the door asking for her, I think it was one was the Barca players”, she informed Klara.

Klara’s heart dropped at the information, but she reminded herself that you had asked her to go to dinner, so she relaxed slightly. You were probably just catching up with your friends. She must remember to ask you how you know them, she reminds herself.

She leaves the locker room thinking you’d probably just be out in the hallway somewhere chatting. But when she finds you, well, chatting is definitely not what she’d call it.

She rounds a corner in the hallway, and that’s where she finds you, with Claudia pressed between yourself and the wall, your lips locked together.

You pull away at the sound of Klara’s gasp, a sound she had not made voluntarily, and glance over your shoulder towards her.

She turns and runs back towards the dressing room before you get a chance to say anything, but decides against re-entering a room where a bunch of her friends would be sat, knowing they would know something was up straight away. She really didn’t want to talk about it, all she wanted to do, was go home, and soothe her broken heart.

How could she be so stupid, she thought to herself, she could tell there was something going on between you and the Spaniard when she’d seen you interact before the game. Her stupid heart had gone and gotten its hopes up anyway.

“Klara!”, she suddenly hears you call, “Klara wait”, you say as you catch up to her. In her shock she apparently hadn’t made it anywhere near as far as she’d hoped, “please don’t tell anyone”, you beg, she just stares back at you, still shocked and now a little confused, “it’s not serious, we’re just having fun, but I’d prefer it if none of the team knew, you know?”, god you were so fucking oblivious it was infuriating.

“Fick dich”, she shoves you backwards.

“What?”, you asked, now it’s your turn to be confused. She was angry, over what you weren’t sure, but you were certain you were about to find out.

“Fuck you”, she said in English this time, like you hadn’t understood what she’d said the first time. She shoved you again too and you held your hands up, staying far enough from her that she wouldn’t be able to do it again.

“Ich kann nicht glauben dass ich dachte du magst mich”, she said, mostly to herself.

“Klara I can’t understand you”, you pleaded with her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about how you’re fucking a Barcelona player”, she spits at you, the venom of her words almost paralysing you.

She goes to move past you, intending to leave, but you grasp her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Klara, what is going on?”, you beg for her to explain what’s caused her anger to be directed towards you. She doesn’t answer, instead just scoffing and pulling her arm out of your grasp.

“Why are you mad?”, you push, getting annoyed yourself now. She has no right to be mad about this, it wasn’t affecting her, “why are you so pissed about what I do with my sex life? It has nothing to do with you”.

“Well it does now I have to keep your dirty fucking secrets”.

“Is that really what you’re pissed about?”, you exclaim, exasperated, “that I asked you not to tell anyone?”, you’re in shock, “Jesus fucking Christ Klara if I knew it’d be such a problem I wouldn’t have asked, I just thought you’d be a good friend and not go gossiping about my personal life”.

“Fuck you”, she repeats, and it only pisses you off more.

“No, fuck you, if you care so much I’ll just tell everyone myself”, you finish before storming into the locker room where most of the team still sat, “hey guys, Klara seems to think that keeping a secret for a friend is too much of a tough ask for her so I just thought I’d tell you before she does”, you start, gaining the attention of everyone, “I’ve been hooking up with Claudia Pina for while now, it’s nothing serious, but it’s good fun and she’s really fucking good in bed so yeah”, you shrug, turning back to see Klara stood in the doorway behind you, a shocked expression on her face, “happy now?”, you ask sarcastically.

She doesn’t respond, but lets you push past her back into the hallway and god knows where after that.

The whole team stare at her in shock. She feels a lot of things. Embarrassed. Angry. Heartbroken. She wishes the ground would open up and suck her down into it.

She doesn’t see you until you show up to recovery training the next day, barely on time. You look tired, your jaw is set and you don’t make eye contact or speak to anyone while you change, before heading out to the training pitch straight away.

Klara sees a few of her teammates look her way after watching you leave, but she just looks away from them.

Days go by in exactly the same way, you barely talk to anyone, especially not Klara, and you avoid any invitations to hang out in your free time, masterfully really, considering you live in a shared apartment with Georgia.

You play the final league game of the year with a new found fire, and the following two champions league games are the same.

It’s now the day before your flight home to England, and as much as you wanted to, you just couldn’t get out of going to the end of year team party.

You got ready before climbing into the back of a taxi alongside Georgia. She hadn’t asked you about what had happened at the Barca game, as much as she wanted to. But, being your roommate, she was well aware that you had failed to return home that night, and considering what you had revealed before storming out of the locker room, she didn’t need to guess where you were.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could now see her, trying to avoid getting caught looking at you.

“G”, you turn to her, causing her to look away quickly, acting like she hadn’t just been watching you intently, “whatever you want to say, just get on with it, the staring is getting creepy”.

“What happened between you and Klara?”, she blurts out.

You roll your eyes, you supposed you would have to tell someone eventually, you just didn’t think the back of a taxi would be the place.

“She caught me and Claudia, in the hallway”, you started explaining, “I asked her not to tell anyone, I just didn’t want everyone gossiping about it”, you continued, “but she freaked out at me, said some shit in german when I asked her to explain what was going on, which I obviously didn’t understand, and then basically informed me she was a shitty friend and wouldn’t keep a secret for me”, you took a breath in an attempt to get your growing anger back under control, “so I told everyone myself and then went and had some mind blowing sex”.

“Okay”, Georgia trailed off, thinking over what she had just heard, “I can’t see Klara doing something like that”.

“Well it happened so believe it”, you stated bitterly, “I knew I should have just gone to Spain or France instead”, you muttered, mostly to yourself but it was loud enough for Georgia to hear.

“Hey no”, Georgia starts, grabbing your hand, “don’t let this make you think like that, you’re playing well, getting minutes, you just need a break, go home, chill out, forget all this and in January when we go to Mexico everything will be better”.

“You don’t know that”, you say dejectedly, “I though she was my friend, I just don’t understand why she reacted like that, but either way I don’t know how long I can go playing on the same team as her if it’s always going to be like this now”.

“Maybe you should talk to her”, she suggests, “now you’ve had some time to cool off, y/n she watches you like you hung the stars in the sky, I think you should maybe hear what she has to say”.

“If she wants to apologise she can approach me herself”, you say bluntly, getting out of the back of the taxi, as it had arrived at the hotel restaurant the team had hired out for the evening, before Georgia could say anything further.

She sighs to herself as she watches you make you way inside, then thanks the taxi driver before following after you.

Once inside you realise that most of the team is already here, so you make your way to the bar to get a drink. Georgia joins you pretty quickly and you order drinks for the two of you.

You spend a short while mingling with a few of your teammates, you had yet to see Klara and Syd so assumed they had yet to arrive. If you were honest you were quite thankful for this as it meant you could spend some time talking to everyone before you inevitably spent the rest of the evening avoiding standing within a 5 metre radius of Klara.

It was about 20 minutes after you arrived that you heard people greeting both Syd and Klara as they entered. You couldn’t help but glance over towards them and when you did, you were thankful that Klara was too occupied with greetings to look back in your direction.

A wave of sadness passed over you as you looked at her. A sadness for the loss of a friendship you had grown to treasure over the months you had been in the city. And it was a sadness which masked the anger you still felt for what had happened.

Your gaze was pulled away from her by a notification on your phone. It was Claudia. You had told her everything that had gone down with Klara, and she’d been on your side throughout, because aside from being your occasional hookup, she was definitely one of your closest friends above anything else.

You’d met the Spanish players around a year and a half ago, through Erin Cuthbert, one of your best friends from Chelsea. She had dragged you on a trip to Spain during the summer, where you had met her girlfriend Mariona, and subsequently her friends Mapi and Ingrid. You weren’t aware you were being dragged on holiday to be a fifth wheel, so when you had also met up with a few of the other Barcelona players, and Claudia happened to be the only other single person there… it was inevitable really.

Barcelona were also having their end of year party tonight, so Claudia had sent you a picture of herself and Patri, along with a message telling you to have a good night and just ignore Klara. You messaged her back telling her the same thing (minus the ignore Klara part obviously) and said you’d give her a call tomorrow to fill her in on the nights events.

As you put your phone away you look up and immediately find yourself locked into uncomfortable eye contact with Klara. It’s like she knew you were texting Claudia. You looked away and internally rolled your eyes, she had no right to care about who you were or were not texting.

The night went on very much the same, you would occasionally find yourself making eye contact with Klara across the room, but you never found yourself in the same vicinity as her. If you had paid more attention you would have noticed that she was watching you, waiting for the perfect time to catch you.

She had spent the last week or so planning what to say in her apology. She knew it needed to include an explanation, she was just terrified to admit the reason she had reacted the way she did was because she liked you. You evidently didn’t feel the same way, that much was obvious to her, but she knew you deserved the truth, especially if she wanted a chance at rekindling some kind of friendship with you.

She was also scared that if she told you the truth, you may no longer want to be friends with her anyway, that you’d find it too weird. In the end she hadn’t really decided on what she was going to say, hoping that in the moment the right words would come to her. She knew she needed to say something tonight, you were going home tomorrow and she wouldn’t see you until January, and she couldn’t bare to have to spend the holidays with the situation unresolved.

So she had been watching you all night, waiting for the perfect time to catch you, and as you finished a conversation with Maxi and Linda and headed towards the toilets, she took her opportunity to follow.

Some people might say it’s a bit creepy to wait right outside a toilet stall for someone, but she knew she’d need to take you by surprise if she was going to convince you to talk to her.

You stepped out and saw her immediately, she had been waiting leant back against the sinks directly opposite the stalls and stood up straight as you emerged.

Neither of you said anything as you stepped up and washed your hands, but she turned and watched you the entire time, you could feel her gaze piercing the side of your head as she did. You moved to dry your hands, all without saying a word.

It’s like the words were stuck in her throat, she couldn’t get them any further up, which left her staring at you like an idiot. She wanted to smack herself around the face in an attempt to knock herself out of whatever trance she’d fallen into, but she was rooted in place.

You were moving slow, like you were giving her a chance to spit something out, anything, but still she couldn’t think of what to say. Now she really wished she’d rehearse exactly what she wanted to say, because as it turns out, in the moment, she was frozen.

You move towards the door, but before pulling it open you pause, a last chance for Klara to say what she followed you in here to say.

When she doesn’t, you start to pull at the door.

“Wait!”, Klara immediately exclaims, out of instinct more than anything. You stop at her request and turn back to face her, folding your arms over your chest, “I um..”, she trails off, “I’m sorry”.

You don’t reply, she’s going to need to say more than that if she wants to be forgiven.

She breaths out heavily and starts pacing, rubbing her temples. A puzzled frown forms on your face as you watch, you were honestly expecting either more arguing or more pleading, you weren’t sure what to call this.

“Okay”, she starts, “Ich werde es einfach sagen”, she says in German, your frown deepens as you don’t really understand what she’s saying, “I like you”, your eyes widen slightly at what she might be implying, “like really like you, and I thought you liked me too, but obviously you don’t, which is totally fine”, she fills in quickly, “I just, yeah, I thought you did, then I saw you with Pina and I was totally heartbroken and I guess probably jealous and I shouldn’t have reacted that way and I’m really sorry”, she finishes, or so you thought, “and I would really like to still be friends with you but I totally understand if that’s not what you want, if you think it’s too weird or whatever”, she actually finishes this time, now standing awkwardly in front of you, her hand rubbing over the back of her neck as you stare at her.

She couldn’t even start to figure out what the look on your face meant. It was sort of a half frown, half shocked look.

I takes you a second but eventually you speak, “I thought you were straight”, is all you say, your tone as unreadable as your face.

“Oh, um, I mean, I used to have a boyfriend, but I’ve dated girls before…”, she trails off, not feeling the need to explain any further.

“If I’d known”, you say, “sorry I assumed”, you apologise.

“No it’s fine, there was no way you could have known”, she justifies for you.

“No, I shouldn’t have assumed”, you repeated, “if I’d known, god I would have done everything so differently”.

The atmosphere shifts at what you say, and the bead of hope that had always been present within Klara starts to grow once again.

“What would”, she clears her throat, “what would you have done differently?”, she asks you.

“I would have made it all mean something, I would have”, you throw your hands up.

Before you can continue Klara lunges forwards, grasping your face between her hands and planting her lips against yours.

It’s takes a second for you to release what’s happening before you pull her flush against your body by the hips and start kissing her back.

Your lips moves perfectly against each others. Klara’s are soft, but her kiss is hard, fuelled by a desperation you can tell she’s been holding onto for a while.

After a few seconds you pull away, “yeah I probably would have done that a long time ago”, you state, before pulling her back in again.

This time the kiss is softer, sweeter, you both know it won’t be your last.

Klara is the one to pull away this time, “will you go in a date with me?”, she asks, a hopeful tone to her voice.

“Yeah, I would like that”, you reply, and place one last kiss to her lips, “we should go now”.

“Now?”, Klara questions, a little shocked.

“Yeah I mean, I’m going home tomorrow, I don’t want to have to wait until the new year”, you tell her your logic.

“What about”, she pauses, “I mean don’t you need to, you know, probably talk to Pina”.

“I told you it was casual, she’s just a friend”, you insist, she doesn’t believe you, you can tell by the look on her face, “don’t worry about it, she’s got something going on with someone back in Spain anyway, she won’t care, she’s been looking for an excuse to tell me we needed to stop for ages”, you explain, “I’ll call her tomorrow”.

“Okay”, she smiles.

“Okay”, you repeat, and then grasp her hand in yours.

The two of you manage to sneak out of the team party with nobody noticing you.

A little while later Georgia texts you though, asking if you were okay, and if by the off chance you had seen Klara, who had also mysteriously disappeared from the party.

You replied telling her you’d explain on the plane home, but that she didn’t need to worry about you and Klara trying to kill each other anymore.

You didn’t look at her reply, but you would have rolled your eyes at her claim that she was responsible for setting the two of you up.

#klara buhl x reader #klara buhl imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

[themonotonysyndrome]

https://www.tumblr.com/themonotonysyndrome/743838934671540224/a-what-if-headcannon-present-castin-met?source=share LADYMONOTONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️Little check up, how have you been doing? 😙

Could we have the reverse of this ask (like adult Celica meeting past Castin and probably Mama Hammer). 👉👈

Hello, dear Anon! Thank you for checking up on me! I'm doing alright; it's just that my writing progress has been slowed down due to Ramadan. I get tired easily nowadays, hence, why this oneshot was slow to come out.

Also, I knew it! I knew someone would asked for a reverse twist of the previous time-travel shenanigans 😂

Aite! Here's a teenage Castin meeting the current-aged Celica feat. Mama Hammer!

-

Castin is so bored; bored to death, in fact!

He didn't want to go out and play with his friends (it always turned out for the worse anyway, now that Rhett was busy training to be a Witch Hunter), and he had already read every book that his Ma purchased for him - thrice!

"Instead of groaning and whining over there," Clara Hammaer blithely commented at the sight of her teenage son prone form sprawling on the armchair. "Why don't you lend Ma a hand, hmm? Castin? Boy, are you listening to me over there?"

Face pressed against the cushion, Castin lets out a muffled "Yeah..."

Clara rolls her eyes fondly at his son's typical teenage dramatics. However, a part of her worries that Castin has been purposely isolating himself in their house more often lately. She knows how the other boys would mercilessly tease him whenever he opted out of their harmful pranks and hazing, and no matter how much she complained about it to their parents, they would just brush her concerns off. Fucking assholes, the lot of them.

"Tch, boys will be boys... What a load of bullshit..." Clara mutters under her breath. The paper in her hand crumples.

"You said something, Ma?"

"Nothing, honey. Would you mind foraging some wild vegetables for me? It's Spring time after all."

Castin groans some more. Nevertheless, he pushed himself off the armchair and did as he was told. He pecks his Ma on the cheek and leaves the house with a basket and a small gardening hoe. Clara watches him go with a small, sad smile before forcing herself to focus on her work - organising the recent intel that flew into the Gilded Honey last night.

In the forest, Castin did his best to gather as many vegetables and flowers for his mother as fast as possible. Although the weather wasn't as hot as yesterday, he didn't exactly enjoy toiling around in the dirt like this. His friends always laughed and ran away whenever their Ma's asked them to forage. They always claimed that it was a girl's job. That never fails to make him uncomfortable. He pushes that thought away as he harvests some wild onions and asparagus.

He huffs once the basket is full. Sweat dripping down his back and neck as he hoists it over his back. Instead of returning home, his heart is telling him to make a detour to the river. Cooling off and playing in the water for a bit sounds nice.

The river isn't too far ahead of where Castin is currently. It helps that he can follow the sound of rushing water in the distance.

When he emerges from the forest, he stops, utterly stupefied.

There, sitting underneath a billowing tree on a picnic blanket is the Goddess.

It's as if time itself has paused for Castin. His heart beats so fast, and it feels like he's been blown away. Is this how falling in love feels like!? Nothing in the world matters anymore except his sudden yearning for Her to acknowledge his existence. To bless him with her words and attention.

And blessed him She did.

A strong gust of wind whips Her golden curls. She delicately tucks a stray hair behind her ear and finally looks up from the book in Her hands. She glances aside and sees Castin standing still, covered in dirt and sweat.

Her eyes! Conquerer help him. There are a pair of ruby red with sunset hues. Not only that, the love and surprise that nestle behind them takes his breath away.

"Oh my... I guess it wasn't a dream after all." She muses. Even her voice is so enchanting, soft and melodic.

It takes an embarrassingly long while for Castin to find his voice again. "Are... are you Her? The Goddess?" He asks in a hush, reverently voice.

His question earns him the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. That says a lot because, before this, he thought it belonged to his Ma!

"I'm afraid not, darling. I'm just a woman waiting for her husband."

Castin's heart is instantly crushed. Stupid, stupid! Of course, someone as beautiful as her wouldn't be single... wouldn't want someone like Castin, all gangly limbs and insecurities. Great. Now he feels so awkward.

The Goddess - no, woman - pats on the empty space beside her. "Since my husband is taking his sweet time bringing what I requested, won't you be a dear and keep me company? A good book could only keep you occupied for so long."

And just like that, his heart beats like a racing rabbit once more. "Really!? I mean, yeah, sure! I-I love to!" Castin stammers, his eyes wide. However, self-consciousness starts to sink in. He fidgets and shyly asks, "Would... would it really be OK? I'm not exactly, uh, clean at the moment. Won't your husband get mad?"

The golden-haired woman raised an eyebrow. "Why would my husband be mad at the company I choose? That's not within his right. Besides, you're perfect just the way you are. Now, come. Sit with me."

P-Perfect!? Castin struggles not to scramble towards the woman like a rambunctious puppy. He carefully put aside the basket and gardening tool and eeked out a place for himself beside the woman. His posture is both stiff and eager.

Laid out before them is a variety of snacks and drinks, complete with a wicker basket on the side. There are even some Intacian books as well stacked nearby. The woman was probably having a date with her husband before Castin found her.

Castin's hand immediately reached for the pitcher of pink lemonade just as the woman was about to do the same. "H-Here! Let me. Um, please." He nervously poured a glass and handed it to her. She didn't accept it, which saddens him.

"Thank you but I wanted to pour a glass for you." The woman explains patiently, causing Castin to blush. "Your thoughtfulness never cease to amaze me, darling."

"Excuse me?" Castin squeaks, gripping the glass with a shaky hand. This is the second time she calls him 'darling'! Third time and he's going to faint. And what did she mean by his thoughtfulness!?

The woman just hums. She fishes out a handkerchief from the wicker basket. "Oh, nothing. It was just an observation. May I wipe your face? It's too pretty to have dirt clinging on to it."

It's official. Somehow Castin has died and went to heaven and is now being attended by an angel wearing a loose low-cut red dress. Her touches are just as gentle as her voice and yet meticulous. It's as if she's done this over and over before.

"There. Isn't that better? Feel free to eat anything that strikes your fancy. I'm partial to the cupcakes, truth be told. But, ah, where are my manners? My name is Celica Anesidora. Pleasure to meet you."

Wow. Even her name is magical!

"I-I'm Castin. Castin Hammer. I just... just didn't expect to meet someone like you today."

"Neither did I. Our meeting must be arranged by the Goddess."

"When you said it like that it sounds romantic, haha..." Castin'a laughter trails off. He clears his throat and quickly shoves a pastry into his mouth. Shit! That could've been much, much better! She's going to think that he's so uncool.

To his surprise, Celica agrees. "It does, doesn't it? Won't you tell me about yourself? Were you out foraging today?"

The tips of Castin's ears burn in embarrassment. "I was just out helping my Ma. That's all." He mumbles.

"That's very kind of you, Castin. You know... my husband does the same as well. You see, I have trouble with eating vegetables. It's a petty dislike that I can't seem to get rid of. My husband finds it funny. To help me with it, he would always harvest wild vegetables during Spring and cook me all sorts of Intacian dishes."

"Is your husband Intacian?" Castin couldn't help but ask. He needed to know. No Intacian man would do such a girlish task!

"Why, yes! The best of the best, he would boast. I would agree with him if it won't swell his already huge ego." Celica teases with a wink. Castin's heart skips a beat.

"How did the two of you met?"

"It was during our arranged marriage," Celica begins. She leans against the tree and folds her arms below her chest. Castin resolutely stares at her beautiful face, not any lower. "I am from an Imperial Noble House, and our friends thought that a marriage between two worlds would help stop the war."

Wait, wait, wait! First off, Celica is an Imp? What!? And she married an Intacian man in an effort to stop the war? The centuries-long war that's happening right now!?

Something's not adding up. This sort of thing would have the village in an uproar. Hell, her very presence would bring untold chaos! How in the world did no one know about Celica!?

And her Intacian husband had the gall to leave her unprotected like this!? Does he even love her!? Right. Castin is going to punch him in the face as soon as he returns from whatever errand Celica told him to do. Fuck it.

"That's insane! Do you know how dangerous it is? Sorry, this is? Look, your marriage is not doing anything for either of our countries because the Empire isn't going to stop trying to invade Intacia. Your husband shouldn't have leave you alone like this. What-what if something bad happens to you? If one of the villagers sees you? You're gonna get hurt, Celica!"

Much to Castin's bafflement, Celica continues to be at ease. "Do you think my husband doesn't love me, Castin?"

"Uh, yeah? Look, we're in the middle of a really, really bad political climate right now. I have no idea how you and your husband could keep your marriage a secret, but if word gets out that an Imperial and Intacian got hitched, It's going to be a witch hunt! Your friends are assholes for making you do this, and I know a thing or two about asshole-type friends. You don't deserve to be tied down by someone who's just using you like a... a tool!"

"Hmm. Would this be a bad time to admit that during our very first meeting, my husband humiliated me in public via lingerie as a gift?"

Castin immediately facepalms.

"Again, why did you married this asshole!?"

"Because I believe in my best friend, Castin. Because despite all odds, I fell in love with my husband once I realised he's more than just the mask he wore to protect himself." Celica firmly explains. "We can be more than just what our cultures deem is appropriate. It would be an absolute bore if every Intacian man were nothing more than a warrior with no interesting depth."

Castin pulls a face at that. "Is your husband more than just a warrior then? I mean, how great can one man really be?" Mentally, he spazzes out when Celica suddenly grabs hold of his chin, and Castin is very aware of how close she is. How bright her red lipstick is and how sweet she smells. Conquerer, give him strength!

"He's my other half. My funny man. My anchor. My morality compass at times. I won't have you demean him, darling." She purrs dangerously with those ruby eyes hardened as a diamond.

Welp. There it is. Castin can now die happy.

He gulps anxiously. "O-Oh yeah? What's his name, then? Warriors are practically celebrities around these parts."

"His name is - "

"Castin!" A voice rings in the forest. He whines when Celica lets go of him. She sits up primly and helps herself to a cup of tea. "Castin, honey, where are you? Did you played in the river again? You're late for lunch!"

Clara Hammer emerges from the tall bushes and into the scene. Her eyebrows climb higher and higher when she sees her son sheepishly sit with a woman who is in no way an Intacian due to her foreign appearance and perfectly schooled posture that screams nobility. Still, she rolls with it to lull this strange woman into a false sense of security.

"There you are, Cassy! Mama was looking aallll over for you!"

Her adorable boy ducks his head in embarrassment. "Maaaa... not in front of, Celica."

"Oh? Is that your new friend's name?" Clara beams, showing off her pearly white teeth, and sits beside her son without an invitation. The woman - Celica - pays it no mind. Huh. Most Nobles would be bristling at her lack of manners. "Hey there! I'm Clara Lilia Hammer; Castin's Mama. You must be new around here." She subtly catalogued everything intel she could glean from this stranger's appearance.

Those high cheekbones? Definitely from the Coastal Empire.

The revealing dress that looks like it's made out of satin and perfect posture? Definitely a Noblewoman.

The jewellery that drapes on her neck? Definitely screams wealth.

But that wedding ring... it supports an Intacian design. She married an Intacian? Now that's a plot twist! Who the heck is this woman?

Meanwhile, Celica slowly puts down her teacup. "In a... manner of speaking. I'm currently on a date with my husband before I met your son. He's a good company."

Castin couldn't help but preen. Ah, looks like her kiddo has a crush! Normally, Clara would tease and coo at how adorable Castin tries to look mature but her gut is telling her to be cautious with this woman. Something's not... right.

"I've raised this boy right!" Clara declares proudly and ruffles Castin's hair. He grumbles and bats her hand away. "Say, is your husband from the village? I might've seen him around. Actually, what did you said your name was?"

"I am Celica Anesidora, Madam. The current head and Baroness of the Anesidora Household." The Imperial woman introduced with a smirk. Purposefully ignoring Clara's first question.

Damn it. She's not familiar with the noble peerage of the Empire. Clara would have to immediately dig up anything she could find about this woman as soon as they were home.

"A Baroness! Wow. You're far from home, Your Grace." Clara comments. "Wonder why you choose Intacia to be your ideal destination for a date. Or marital prospect."

"I know right!?" Castin interjects, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He then turns to Celica, genuinely distressed. "I know you love your husband but I'm gonna have to, I-I don't know, talk some sense into him or something. He really shouldn't have leave you alone at least."

"But I'm not alone am I? Now I have the two of you to keep me safe until he eventually returns." Celica assures him, her lashes low and deeply amused. "Shall we move on to a more pleasant topic? How are the two of you on this fine day?"

Lunchtime for the Hammer is swapped with snacks and lemonade as the mother and son duo tries to uncover more about this mysterious Imperial Baroness. Every innocuous question is easily deflected by another; Celica seems to find it a game to keep the two on their toes.

The snacks are all gone, and the pitcher is empty. Still, Celica's equally mysterious Intacian husband fails to appear.

Castin didn't want to say it, so he tried to cajole Celica to wait for him at their house. Clara agrees on the principle of things. Besides, her son wasn't kidding when he insisted it was unsafe for a lone Imperial woman to be in a rural Intacian village.

"The two of you are immensely kind and generous. A credit to the House of Hammer. Rest assured that I will be alright. I thanked the Goddess for blessing me with the chance to meet the two of you." Celica Anesidora said in the end. "May we meet again one day."

Castin moves to convince the woman again, but Clara stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Perhaps the two of them aren't meant to linger here any longer. The air suddenly feels different. Books of old love to tell the tale of mortals crossing paths with fairies from another world. Who knows, Celica might actually be it.

"Then we'll take our leave." Clara isn't accustomed to bowing in the traditional Imperial way. Still, she did it out of politeness. "I guess we'll see you around, Baroness."

Her son is hesitant to leave. Already thinking about sneaking out to come here again, just in case. "Yeah... please be careful, OK?" I love you, is suddenly heavy on his tongue for some reason. Goddess, it'll be embarrassing if he blurts that out.

And with that, the Hammers left. Celica waves goodbye at him with her beautiful smile when Castin turns around. The two of them exit the forest soon enough.

Just as the Hammers return home, the adult Castin finally returns to his wife's side with a box of food that Ezekiel prepared. "Babe! I'm back! Did you missed me?"

"No." Celica grinned and accepted his kiss.

Castin pretends to gasp and clutch at his heart. "You're killing me here, sweetheart. You're killing your man. What? Are those books that good that they replaced me just like that?"

"Hmmm, no. In your absence, I was treated to a most delightful and unexpected company." Celica begins to explain. "I wonder if it was part of the Goddess' plan in the grand scheme of things... us meeting with our past selves."

"Wait, are you saying..."

"You are utterly adorable as a teenager, husband. You blush so easily! Your past self tries so hard to impress me, too. Sweet boy. I think I prefer that side of you."

"Aww, man. You're never gonna forget this, are you?"

Celica kisses her husband again, slow and sweet. "Never, Castin."

THE END!

#monotony's rambling #desmond asmr #oneshot #castin hammer #baroness (oc)

[pixie-nymph]

Riddle me this:

NSFW

EDWARD NASHTON x F! READER (you’re catwoman lol)

Okay this is my first post here lol please bear with me idk how to navigate everything 😭

Also yea I know the story is a bit cringe I got carried away lmfao

Plot: you are catwoman and you find yourself conflicted as to who your true enemies really are when you fall right into the lap of the most notorious serial killer in gotham

Warnings!!: 18+ CONTENT, MINORS DNI, riddlerxreader, smut, violence, mentioning of blood/bruises, maledom?, powerplay, suggested femdom, violent language, mentioning of gun use, unprotected sex, suggested overstim, enemies to lovers kinda??

Word count 11k (11139, its a juicy one )

The rain poured down down in a thick, almost suffocating way. Clouds glooming over gotham, coating the city in a dark layer of doom once again.

The city has been in chaos. A masked vigilante similar to you, was roaming the streets, yet he was more arrogant and self righteous. The Batman. People would call him. You were only doing this for a couple of weeks now. Saving people and especially animals was a hidden passion of yours. All those years hiding in your apartment just watching how the city was falling apart. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to take matters into your own hands. And if Bat Boy could do it, so could you. Tonight was a quiet one.

You were standing in the tower on 21st, looking for your next hustle. The next person in need. The next stray to pick up and take home.

A sudden noise made you turn on your heels, ducking down almost grinding your nails into the concrete pillar.

“Bad kitty” a deep husky voice coming from the back of the roof. Barely noticeable. “Tsk tsk tsk"

You jolt up trying to squint your eyes to further investigate the darkness.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with fire?” the voice started to get closer, louder.

Thick, heavy boots made their way to you, dragging the wetness from outside over the hard concrete floor.

“Who’s there?” You yelled, still not being able to make out the figure who was now barely a couple feet away from you.

“Here’s a Riddle for you.” His voice darkened, “I am one with one to spare, lest I lose eight. I'm not a number. What am I?”

Suddenly it became clear who was standing in the tower with you. Your heart started to pound out of your chest, almost as if it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Riddler” you stuttered, mostly whispering it to yourself.

“Wrong aaanswer.” He chuckled. He was finally close enough so you could make out his figure. A thick dark mask covering his head. The translucent glasses sitting on top of it, adorned in raindrops which were trickling down the thick green vinyl covering his entirety.

Your eyes widened.

In one swift motion you tried pouncing at him, but he had other plans. Stopping you in your tracks, he held what it seemed like a detonator up into the air.

“I wouldn’t go any further.” He threatened, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“What did you do?” You exclaimed.

“Just a little surprise for your cats at home.” His mask moving ever so slightly, told you that he was grinning underneath it.

Tears started streaming down your face, soaking your own cloth mask. The costume you had sewn yourself in the middle of your living room, surrounded by your flock of felines, suddenly felt tight. Suffocating your whimpers, you wiped the tears away. “Don’t fuck with my cats.” You said sternly.

You took every ounce of courage you had and tried to grab the detonator out of his left hand. Yet he stopped you once again in your tracks, grabbing your throat, firmly holding you in place, lifting you up from the ground. You grabbed his arm, digging your claws into the thick sleeve of his coat, trying to scratch away at his hand around your throat.

“You really need to control your emotions better, miss kitty.” He snarled at you, tightening his grip.

“P-please” you managed to get out a breathy word. “Don’t hurt them” you whimpered.

“Awe look at you pleading for mercy.” His grip on your throat still tightening with every breath you took. He was way bigger in person than what he looked like on his streams. His hand almost encompassed your entire throat.

“I’d do anything please.” You shakily got out. Slowly the room spinning around you, everything turned into a haze.You felt your last bit of air escaping your lungs.

“Anything you say?”

He let go of your throat, letting your exhausted body plummet to the hard concrete floor.

You took a huge breath in, your larynx still sore from the sheer force of his hand. The room was still spinning while you tried to compose yourself.

But not too long after, two hands lifted you up from the floor, smashing your backside into the concrete pillar. The cold stone sent shivers down your spine, hitting your head ever so slightly.

His face was merely inches from yours and you still hadn’t caught your breath at all. You tried to fight him off but the lack of oxygen in your body made your attempt to wiggle out of his grasp look futile at best. His green eyes staring at you through the thick clear acrylic of his glasses.

“You’d do anything for your strays?” He growled.

Still struggling to find your voice, you nodded. Tears now streaming down your face again. You didn’t know what it was, if it was your pleading or the sheer randomness of this situation but he let go, disabling the detonator.

“You would make a great sidekick one day” he laughed.

You pushed him off of you now.

“I would never help you, you sick son of a bitch” your voice barely even there.

You jolted forward in pain, hunching over coughing your lungs out. When you looked up you suddenly were alone again. Where did he go? Should you go after him?

The cats. You jumped down the tower holding on to the steel ropes the construction workers had attached to the scaffolding. Hitting the ground with barely any noise you ran to the back of the building and hopped onto your bike. Surely you must have ran a thousand stop signs on your way home and almost crashed into a semi turning to the corner of your street.

Rushing up your apartment you stopped at the door. What if he wired the place? You turned the knob ever so slightly. No other mechanical noises. Opening the door ever so slightly one of your cats already pushed its way out into the hallway. You kneeled down and petted his head. “Oh paulie.” you cooed. “What would I do without you?” You now opened the door to your apartment. Nothing seemed out of place. Only a singular rose adorning your coffee table standing in the middle of your apartment.

“A cat.” Read the note. The answer to his riddle. 9 lives. Of course.

You turned around frantically, scanning the apartment for clues or traps. Nothing. The coast was clear. You tore the mask off your head and let yourself plop down onto your couch, leaning your head back. Your throat ached, your body drenched in adrenaline sweat and rain. Paulie sat down on your lap knowing he couldn’t be there for long. You needed a long warm shower after this hell of a night.

Shortly after stepping out of the bathroom you fed the cats and flopped into bed. You gripped onto your sheets, the cats crawling into bed with you. What if he comes back? Was the last thought before you drifted off to sleep.

Days went by. Nothing. Still nothing. You never heard of him again. The occasional news channel broadcasting his streams would send shivers down your spine. He could have killed you right then and there. Why didn’t he?

You fought off the occasional robber, predator or drug dealer. Nothing too hot. You wanted to help people, not just aimlessly getting yourself in trouble. This time though, it seemed like you bit off more than you can chew.

It was Friday night and you sat down in your favourite bar. Just enjoying your drink while simultaneously scanning the crowds. You noticed the TV. They were broadcasting him again.

“Hey vinnie can you turn it up a bit?” You asked the bartender.

“Sure thing y/n” he went to grab the remote.

“Everyone will find out what kind of city gotham really is. This great deal of change? Change? The only real change is happening behind the main stage.”

His words ever so slightly muffled by the mask. The thick, green vinyl mask. You instinctively put your hand on your throat. The bruises still adorning your skin ever so slightly.

“In these trying times, just remember. Your loved ones are only a phone call away.”

With that the picture cut out and it was back to normal broadcasting.

Suddenly your cell phone started to ring, almost causing you to spill your drink over the entire bar.

Fishing for your phone in your purse you finally got ahold of it. “Unknown caller ID” the big bold letters staring at you.

Shakily you accepted the call.

“Hello Kitty.” A familiar voice echoing through the speaker.

“How did you get my-“ he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about that right now. How about you come help me with a task?”

“Help you? Are you out of your goddamn mind?” You hissed through the phone, already gathering your things, making your way outside.

“Its a juicy one, what do you say?” He teased you.

“I told you I wouldn’t help you.” Your voice was shaking.

“Fine, then how about you help your batty little boyfriend?” He laughed.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Once again your tone was sharp and stern.

“Fine by me. Just let him die with all the drop heads in the building then.” The call disconnected. Fuck.

As much as you couldn’t stand Batman, the drops rings were getting out of control and you wanted to get to the bottom of it. How would you even know where to go? The iceberg lounge. Would it be worth the risk going back there? You waited tables there not too long ago but quit once you felt like things were getting out of hand. Waitresses disappearing only to turn back up dead in alleyways. You had to go. Jumping on your bike you raced there, quickly changing into your suit next to the back entrance.

Now or never. You opened the door ever so slightly to take a peek at what was going on. The club was..empty? Only the music blaring loud as always. What was this some kind of sick joke of his? Suddenly you heard loud metal clanking coming from inside. You pushed your way inside, staying in the dark corners of the hallway. Apparently not dark enough.

“I got one” a tall man grabbed you from behind, yelling out into the room, the music muffling his tone.

“Huh would you look at that.” The music stopped. A familiar voice filled up the room. “These goddamn vigilantes are ruining the business.” A man snarled.

“Put her with the other one.” You tried to wiggle out of the mans grasp but soon he had a pistol pointed at your neck, pushing it into your skin.

“Let me go” you hissed.

“Oh we got a fiesty one” the man growled.

“Show her to me Giovanni.” The man dragged you into the middle of the room, dim spotlights only showing you so much. The penguin. His gold tooth gave him away in an instant.

“Pretty little thing. What could we do with this one?” He said in a dark tone, lifting your chin with his index finger.

You spat at him, earning a slap across the face not long after.

“Take that bitch away.” He snarled. “Throw her with the other one.” Batman must be here too then.

The man guided you harshly to another room within the establishment. A cellar room with almost no lighting. He threw you onto the cold stone floor.

“Don’t even try to escape.” He threatened you shortly after slamming the door. You tried banging against the door, trying to get it to open. Not a chance.

“Don’t waste your breath.” You heard a dark voice, echoing through the room. “Hello?” You stuttered. No one seemed to be in here with you.

“I’m in the next room.” The vent on your left side. You finally noticed where the noise came from. Sliding across the floor you dug your nails behind the dusty metal, ripping it off the wall, peeking through the hole in the wall. Batman.

“How did they get you?” You asked sheepishly.

“They threatened to kill the mayor’s son. This drops shit is getting out of hand. They will do anything to stay in the business.” He scoffed.

“But what have we got to do with all of this?” You asked.

“We go after bad guys that work for them, go figure.” He ridiculed you.

“How are we gonna get out of here?” You asked, your tone growing more concerned.

“Worry about yourself sweetheart.” He scoffed again. What an asshole. Suddenly the sprinklers activated.

“Oh what the fuck.” You yelled. With no detectable drainage anywhere the room was filling up fairly quickly with water. Soon it was pooling around your ankles. It stopped.

“Are you gonna fucking drown us??” You yelled out. No answer.

“Calm down. They’re trying to toy with us so we back off.” Batman said in his familiar dark voice.

You scoffed. What an asshole.

This spiel went on for hours. Soon the room was filled up to your thighs. The water felt ice cold around your legs and there was no leverage to hold on to to escape it. Standing up for hours in freezing cold water wore you out pretty quickly. It must have been the middle of the night. You leaned your back against the wall hoping it would be over soon. After what seemed like an eternity, the door flung open, draining the water out of the room, tearing you down with the current. Exhausted you laid on the wet floor when two sets of arms pulled you up and carelessly dragged you into another room. You were abruptly thrown onto a chair, your hands tied behind your back, your ankles tied to the legs. The men stood next to you awaiting the next person to join them. To your surprise, two people entered the room, one more familiar than the other. No. It couldn’t be.

“Missed me?” You heard the familiar muffled voice through the thick vinyl of his mask.

“Oh you two have been acquainted?” The penguin asked curiously. The penguin and the riddler? What sense does this all make?

“We ran into each other once or twice.” He chuckled, closing the door behind him.

“What now boss?” One of the strange men next to you asked.

“Well we’re gonna make her purr don’t you think?” The penguin turned his head to the riddler. He nodded in agreement.

One of the men next to you slapped you across the face.

“Who do you work for? The city? The mayor?” The penguin hissed.

"Nobody." You scoffed, spitting blood out of your mouth.”

“You’re telling me you don’t work with the cops?” The Penguin scoffed.

“No you old bastar-“ another hit to your face, this time with the back of a gun, splitting open the skin on your forehead. You felt warm blood running down your eyebrow.

“Now explain to me this then sweetheart” the penguin took a couple steps towards you, “how does the police know about our drops shipment you so rudely interrupted last week taking out one of our men?”

Fuck. That was his man? You thought it was just some random dealer you took out.

“I- I don’t know.” You spat out blood again.

He motioned one of the guys to do something again.

The guy grabbed you from the back by the jaw and held a knife to your throat, pressing into your skin only enough to make it sting.

The riddler now formed his hands into fists.

Suddenly a loud noise echoed in the hallway making you flinch. The knife on your throat was quickly removed, almost making you think he dragged it across too fast while removing the blade, making you bleed. The penguin and his companions went out of the room to check on what it was. The Riddler stayed in the room with you. His eyes fixated on you. You glared at him as he stepped closer. “And so we meet again”

He chuckled.

“You lured me into a trap.” You snarled at him. He grabbed your jaw and pushed your head back so that you had to look up at him. Getting really close to your face again he said “You took the bait. Did you want to see me again?” He grinned. Mustering your face he frowned at your wounds. Taking a closer look at your neck he dragged his finger across your clavicle up to your chin, smearing the small amount of blood over your skin.

“Did they hurt you too bad?” He sounded concerned all of a sudden.

“I-“ suddenly shots could be heard in the hallway, illuminating the corridor for a split second before the fire stopped. The riddler rushed to the door to close and lock it. You were trapped with a psychopath. Completely helpless and tied to a chair. He seemed frantic, almost like he suddenly didn’t know what to do. He didn’t seem as confident anymore. Glancing over to you now giving you a questioning look he motioned you to stay quiet. The door flung open with a brutal amount of force and an unfamiliar armed man tried to tackle the riddler before being shot in the back by another dark figure you couldn’t quite make out.

You tried to get out of your cuffs, tearing at them, almost making your skin bleed. Riddler saw what you were trying to do and stopped you in your tracks, holding down your hands. The man entered the room and frantically asked “what about her? Let’s just kill that bitch. We need to get out of here.”

Your eyes met the riddlers and you were almost pleading for help at this point.

“No I don’t think so.” The riddler snapped back at him.

“What is wrong with you?” The man hissed at him. Taking his big rifle, he pointed it right at you.

“I’m not done with her.” The riddler snarled.

“I don’t care about your little personal agenda.” The man snarled and stormed past him to get to you. “We’re being attacked right now, lets get this over with.” The man still had his rifle pointed at you.

“I said NO.” The riddlers tone was stern and he was almost yelling when you heard the metallic cocking of a gun being loaded.

Suddenly everything went black. This was it. They shot you. You’re dead. You felt yourself falling over in the chair, your head hitting the cold and wet concrete floor.

The last thing you heard was a clanking sound from someone messing with your handcuffs.

POV change

I had been watching her for weeks. She was new to the scene and surely she must know me. I always got so excited thinking about whether she watches my streams or not. I didn’t mean to lure her into this. I only meant for her to get scared. I didn’t know the intentions of the penguin. When I thought he wanted to eradicate the vigilantes I didn’t think he would just kill them in cold blood.

I couldn’t bear to look at her in this moment. Her face beaten in. Blood adorning her skin. The bruises I left on her barely faded. The light of my desk lamp, barely illuminating the room in my apartment. After the guy tried to kill her I don’t know what happened. Something just switched within me. I had to get her out of there. No shots were fired luckily but they did bash her head in pretty hard. I just hope she wakes up soon. What if she doesn’t? I don’t know how this is going to go.

POV change

You could barely open your eyes. The headache you had was unbearable and the room was already spinning before you could even get a good look at where you were. Slowly blinking your way into the light you realized you weren’t in the cellar anymore. You were laying on something soft, yet cold. Like a leather couch. Jolting up you realized you also were not wearing your soaking wet clothes anymore, but an old giant shirt you didn’t recognise. Your head was pounding.

“Finally awake are we?” A far too familiar voice echoed through your head. No. It couldn’t be.

You looked around the room to see a dark figure in the corner of the room that wasn’t very well lit. You squint your eyes, holding your head. The blood had dried on your skin, flaking off into your hands.

“Where- where am I?” You barely managed to get out. Were you even safe here? “Am I safe?” You whimpered.

“That depends. Are you going to behave?” The dark figure asked out of the darkness of the corner. You were very sure of who he was. Being absolutely strung out and beyond exhausted from your wounds you didn’t really have much of a choice but to comply. “I don’t have much of a choice here do I?” You scoffed.

Finally he stepped into the light. “No I think you don’t.” He held a cigarette up to his mouth and took a long drag before putting it out in an ashtray on his desk. The voice matched who you were imagining but the face? No mask? No thick green vinyl and cling wrap? Only the thick framed acrylic glasses were adorning his face this time. His face.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked sheepishly.

“Now why would I let you off that easily?” His tone darkened.

“Because now I know what you look like.” You snarled.

Throwing the blanket off of you, you jolted up from the couch, trying to quickly scan the room to escape through the next door you find. Only your body had other plans. Your head was pounding so hard it made you dizzy and you managed to barely take two steps before tumbling to the ground, scattering magazines all over the floor in a weak attempt to hold onto a table.

He quickly rushed over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders, ever so slightly trying to lift you up . “Are you okay?” His tone sounded extremely concerned. You pushed him off very quickly. “What the fuck is your deal, let me go.” You hissed at him. His expression changed and suddenly he seemed disappointed at the words you were throwing at him. He distanced himself. His brown locks were hanging thick onto his forehead as if he just came out of the shower. You could smell the cigarette smoke on him but also the freshness of his shower gel. You looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes.

“Wha- what are you going to do with me?” You whimpered, trying to crawl backwards into a corner. You didn’t even want to imagine his next twisted, evil plan he had for you. Was he going to use you as bait? Or use you for a detonator like he did with the old mayor?

“Nothing I promise. I-“ he sighed “I just didn’t want them to kill you. I’m not done with you.” His tone got dark again.

You were holding your knees close to your body burying your face in them. The wounds on your face stung ever so slightly. He got closer to you again. You grabbed the next thing you could find, a remote control and pointed it at him.

“Don’t you dare touch me.” You threatened.

“Or what, are you gonna turn me off?” He laughed. His smile actually looked fairly nice. You never saw his mouth behind the mask. It looked kind of adorable. What? You must’ve really hit your head way too hard. The riddler? Adorable? Not in any lifetime of yours. He slowly grabbed the remote control out of your hand. “Let go, please let me explain.” He pleaded.

You hesitantly loosened your grip and he put the remote onto a table next to you.

“Listen, you’re hurt. Can I at least help you before you attack me again?” He said, now in a much softer tone. You were hurting pretty bad and again you were terrified of him. You basically had no choice but to again, comply.

“Fine.” You sniffed, wiping your nose. He put out his hand to help you up.

“After this, its back to mortal enemies I promise, I just want to fight fair.” He chuckled. You smiled. Hey stop that. He’s not funny. You slowly put your hand into his, his hand completely encompassing yours. They were huge compared to your hands. Several of your nails had broken off as well. With a swift yet controlled motion, he hoisted you up from the floor. Ashamed of the lack of clothing in your body, you tried to pull down the shirt you had on. The shirt. How did you even get into that?

“Where is my suit?” You hissed, looking up at him, tugging on the fabric adorning your body.

“Okay now, calm down, it's in the bathroom on the heater to dry. You were completely soaked.”

“You undressed me??” You yelled at him, the pressure making your head ache even more.

“You still have your underwear on, I didn’t look!!” He threw his hands up in protest. You glared at him. At this point you were so done with this bullshit of a situation.

“Okay well could I possibly get some pants?” You stared at the floor in embarrassment. Your face completely flushed at the thought that he stripped you out of your suit.

“Of course.” He tried to put a hand on your shoulder, but you pulled away. Your skin was on fire. His disposition changed once again from a compassionate smile to a disappointed frown.

“Don’t.” You put your hands out. Everything hurt and the only thing you wanted right now is to go home to your cats.

“Okay, no touching, got it.” He turned around to go to the other room. This is your chance to get out. But making a couple steps trying to be as quiet as possible you knew you wouldn’t even make it to the next block. You didn’t even know where you were. Let alone what time of day it was. You looked around the room. It looked quite messy, blueprints, sketches and little camcorders everywhere. There is was. His Mask. On his desk. You slowly walked towards it lifting your hand to touch it when a door behind you was shut.

“Hey I found some- what are you doing?” He glared at you. Your feet shuffled your weight from one to the other.

“I was just- I”

“You were trying to snoop around.” He accused you. Swiftly coming towards you, his feet heavy on the carpeted floor of his apartment, he stopped right in front of you.

His green eyes were looking down on you, you couldn’t hold eye contact whatsoever so you just looked away. His hand grabbed your jaw “Don’t. Touch. Anything. Without permission.” He spat at you through his teeth. Your eyes widened in shock and pain at the same time. Noticing that he was hurting you he let go instantly. “Sorry.” You whispered. He held out a pair of navy blue sweatpants.

“If you want to wash up, the bathroom is down the hall to the left. Yell if you need anything.” You nodded and grabbed the pants. With your legs shaking you made your way to the bathroom. His apartment was actually not half bad. A big bathtub right in the middle of the bathroom instantly caught your eye. That would be heavenly right now.

You put the sweatpants on the toilet seat and took off the shirt he put on you. Nirvana. Nice. At least he had good taste. He didn’t lie, your underwear was still completely in tact and on your body, if anything just a bit wet still. You stepped out of your panties and took off your sports bra. Or well, tried very hard to get out of it. But taking off a sports bra was a task in itself let alone a wet one. Your shoulder hurt from you hitting the ground and you just couldn’t get it off of your body. No way you were asking him for help. You were gonna die trying. You noticed a pair of hair cutting shears on his sink. This was the only solution right now. You turned on the water to fill the tub. Next to it were actually a bunch of oils and soap so you just put whatever into the water. Anything to relax now.

The water soon turned a milky purple color. You were still determined to get out of your bra. Taking the shears, you cut your bra right down the front so you could just take it off like a jacket. You threw it on the floor. The tub was almost full now so you turned off the water and slowly dipped your leg into the warm water. You had several scratches and wounds all over your body, so it stung getting into the tub. You hissed between your teeth and let your body slowly glide down into the water. You leaned your head back, quickly realizing that was a bad idea since you got dizzy straight away. Maybe a bath wasn’t the most wise thing to choose right now. You took a sponge from the edge of the tub and began lightly scrubbing off the dirt and blood off your skin, quickly turning the water into an unpleasant color.

“The towels are under the sink!” He yelled through the door making you jump.

“Uh thanks!” You yelled back. Jeez can he leave you alone already? “I think I can figure out a bathroom on my own” you mumbled to yourself.

You tried to relax your body as much as you could but given the fact you were in the apartment of the most notorious serial killer of the city right now, relaxing wasn’t really an option here. Especially with how vulnerable you still were. What would happen once you came out of the bathroom? What were his plans? Did he really think you would believe him when he said he wants to play fair? So many thoughts rushed through your head. And now you’ve seen his face. His face. His rounded cheekbones, his pink lips forming the perfect little smile and his big nose. He looked way less intimidating than you imagined. Not as.. disheveled as you thought. You let yourself soak in your thoughts for a little while longer until the water wasn’t as warm anymore. Slowly you tried lifting yourself out of the tub, groaning in pain.

“Everything okay in there?” You heard from outside the door. Jeez overbearing much?

“Yes I’m fine.” You hissed at him. Pulling the plug of the tub the dirty water started to slowly go down the drain.

You tried to hold onto anything you found for leverage. Opening the cabinet under the sink you were expecting towels. It was empty. Is he serious? Was this some kind of sick joke?

“Hey.. uhm.. Riddler?” That was the only name you knew to call him.

“Yes?” Again, coming from right outside the door.

“There are no towels.” You yelled back, your voice growing weaker the more you spoke. Your throat was still sensitive.

You heard a muffled “fuck” coming from behind the bathroom door.

“I must’ve forgotten to put them back, give me a second.” You sat down onto the bathmat. Suddenly you heard the front door open and close.

Did he just leave?

Was this an actual chance to escape now? You got up, opening the door and peeking out. At least you weren’t incredibly dizzy anymore. Nobody was there, not a noise to be heard. You slowly stepped out of the bathroom, only a lit cigarette remained in the ashtray next to the desk. The smoke fading into nothingness. You slowly made your way to the couch, grabbing the blanket and wrapping yourself up in it. You still hadn’t cleaned your face and you could smell the iron on your skin. Your feet leaving wet prints on the carpet you stepped towards what you thought to be the front door. Trying to wiggle the doorknob you noticed it was locked. Fuck. You heard steps from inside the stairwell and you hustled back to the bathroom, almost tripping on the magazines you spilled earlier. You dropped the blanket in hopes he wouldn’t notice anything and rushed back into the bathroom closing the door behind you.

The front door unlocked and he stepped back into the apartment stopping in his tracks. The footprints.

“That bitch.” He hissed. You heard his footsteps coming closer to the bathroom and the door flung open. You tried to cover anything that was possible with your hands, backing yourself into the wall.

“What the fuck were you trying to do huh?” He yelled at you, rushing towards you. You have never felt so exposed and vulnerable in your life.

“I-I’m sorry. Get OUT!” You tried not to die of embarrassment. He was out of breath, his glasses slid down his nose, his hair in a mess. Not moving back a single inch, he held up the towel to you. Never breaking eye contact, he said in his familiar dark tone “I told you we’re playing fair. Accept it or suffer the consequences.”

“Consequences?” You looked up at him, fear forming a knot in your stomach. Still being completely naked in front of him with him towering over you was terrifying.

“Yes. Now clean yourself up.” He pointed to your face and shoved the towel onto you. He whined at the sight of your injuries.

Finally being able to cover yourself you wrapped the towel around you as tightly as possible. He kept looking at you with this pained expression.

“Don’t you dare pity me now.” You spat at him. “You were the one who got me into this mess” you scoffed and moved past him towards the mirror and sink.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He looked ashamed. Glancing at you through the mirror you turned around to face him.

“Well what now? What is this? Fair play? Letting the enemy use your bathroom? A person you hate?” You sneered at him.

“No one said anything about hate.” Your brows furrowed.

“You don’t hate me?” You were seriously questioning your sanity right about now.

“No.” He stepped closer to you. Yes you now had a towel around you, yet the vulnerability remained with how he towered over you.

You backed into the sink as much as you can, not lifting your gaze for one second.

“I actually admire you. Your drive. It's astonishing, given your size.” He mocked you.

“My size??” You slapped his arm. Shocked at your action, he instinctively grabbed your wrist, making you jump. Gasping for air, you leaned back, grabbing onto your towel even harder, almost making another nail break off. You instinctively reached for the hair cutting scissors on the edge of the sink but they were swiftly ripped out of your hands by him.

“I’m sorry. Wash up now.” He just said in a cold tone. He left the bathroom. You honestly didn’t even know if this was reality anymore. Were you dreaming? If so this was definitely the time to wake up now.

You turned around to take a look at yourself in the mirror. Wow you really looked like shit. The blood dripped down your entire face. You had a cut right above your eyebrow and a little wound right on the crown of your head. Your throat was ever so slightly slit, nothing major luckily. You turned on the tap and washed your face with some cold refreshing water. The water turned a crimson color running down the drain. He must have some bandaids somewhere. You opened the cabinets yet no bandaids or anything remotely comparable. You grabbed some moisturizer and at least tended to your dry skin on your face and legs. They were pretty scratched up from being thrown around so much. You slipped into the clothes he gave you and hung up the towel. What would happen if you opened the door now? Would he tower over you again? Try to intimidate you? Fuck around and find out you thought to yourself. You slowly opened the door and slipped out into the living room. He was sitting at his desk, finishing his cigarette.

“All done?” He said without even turning around.

“Uhm yea. Do you happen to have some bandages?” You asked in a subdued tone.

He quickly turned around looking at you. Your head was still slightly bleeding.

“Come over here.” He commanded you. You slowly made your way towards the desk. “I don’t bite.” No he didn’t?

He motioned you to lean down a bit so he could get a better look at your head.

“Doesn’t look like you need stitches kitty.” He whispered. He turned back around towards his desk and opened a drawer to his righthand side, rummaging through it. It looked like a bunch of medical equipment. Did he have to stitch himself up often?

“Here.” He held up a bunch of bandages.

“Thanks.” You gladly accepted and swiftly grabbed them out of his hands, making your way back to the bathroom.

“I have a magnifying mirror right here wait.” He stopped you in your tracks, his tone still ice cold. Did you offend him? “So you can actually see what you’re doing” he followed up. He set up the mirror next to him and he went back to what he was doing.

Leaning over slightly to be able to see yourself in the mirror you opened the bandages. These were some medical grade type shit. Not just the normal type you can rip open. You looked at it a couple of times, wondering how this weird shape would adhere to your face. He noticed you struggling and chuckled.

“Never seen a bandaid before?” He mocked you.

“Of course I have…just not.. those.” You admitted they looked rather strange.

“Okay fine let me help.” He tapped on his lap. No way you were sitting on this man. You shook your head.

“Fine, I’ll just watch you struggle then.” You pouted at him. Ugh whatever. You sat on the very edge of his knee. He pulled you in a bit, making your heart skip a beat. This was all too strange. He picked up the bandaid and carefully placed it against the skin above your brow. His face was painfully close to yours. You tried not to look at him, closing your eyes.

“All done.” He tapped your thigh. You got up pretty quickly.

“So what now?” You wondered out loud. “Am I supposed to just leave and we fight each other in the morning again?” You chuckled.

“It is the morning kitty.” He pointed to his alarm clock on his desk. 6:47. How long have you been out?

“How long was I unconscious for?” You gasped.

“Just a couple hours.” He said in a cold tone turning back to what he was doing.

“Oh.. uhm..okay.” You went back to the couch. The blanket was neatly folded at the edge of it again. You grabbed it and put it over yourself.

“Why?” You looked over at him.

“Why what?” He snarled in an annoyed tone.

“Well why all this? Why did you take me with you? You could’ve let the penguin’s men finish me off.”

“ I told you I’m not done with you.” He growled. The knot formed in your stomach again. Afterall you were not at a friend's house whatsoever. You grabbed at the hem of the blanket.

“You should get some rest.” He sighed. He pointed to another room. “Okay.” You made yourself comfortable on the couch.

“No. Go to the bedroom. I want to finish my work here. I sleep on the couch.” He said.

“But-“ you started.

“Would you stop fucking protesting everything I tell you?” He hissed while hastily getting up from his chair, almost yelling the words he just said. You flinched back into the couch. Quickly processing what he just told you, you threw the blanket off of you and made your way to the other room. Opening the door, you expected everything but this. His bedroom was clean. You locked the door behind you. Almost too clean. You flopped onto the bed and just let sleep take over you. Nestling into the soft sheets you inhaled his scent a couple times before drifting off.

POV change

God she was a pain in the ass. This proves itself more difficult than I anticipated it to be. This would be my greatest work yet. I want her to want it though. I don’t want her to fuck me out of pity or fear. I need her so bad. The sheer sight of her made me weak in the knees. I couldn’t help but think about her in the bathroom. The way she thought she could outsmart me. Truly astonishing. I just hope she recovers fast so I can have her out of my apartment. Although deep down I kind of didn’t want her to leave. Watching her every step for weeks now has made me grow very fond of her. Her swift, calculated movements. Her mind as fast as a whip, always ahead of everyone around her. Except for me of course. No one can outdo the doer. She would hopefully catch up to that soon. I wonder what she was dreaming about in the other room. Cute that she thinks a simple door lock would keep me out of the room. Her confidence is truly something else. I shake my head, smiling about the thoughts roaming around in my head before turning off the desk lamp and making my way to the couch. The blanket smells of her. I wrap it around me and slowly drift off to sleep.

Soon I’m woken up by my bed squeaking and sheets rustling loud as ever. I hear her.

POV change

You were laying in bed. Suddenly he hovered over you, his hands cupping the perfectly round shape of your butt grazing down the back of your thighs. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.” A familiar voice whispered into your ear. You tried to push him off but soon you jolted up and snapped back to reality. What. Was. That. You breathed heavily and struggled to catch your breath.

“You okay?” The knock at the door almost gave you a heart attack. You remembered where you were.

He opened the door. Didn’t you lock it?

“Hey what the fuck did I tell you to come in?” You snapped at him pulling the sheets up to your chest.

“I heard noises I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dying in here. At least not without my doing.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” You swallowed hard. “I’m fine.” You said, completely out of breath.

“You sure? Bad dreams?” He furrowed his brows.

“Well it’s not very comfy cozy sleeping at a serial killer's place.” You scoffed, wiping your forehead, whincing at the pain you just inflicted on yourself.

He chuckled. “What time is it?” Your voice barely making a noise. “Like 9 ish” he replied in this distinct cold tone again.

“Okay I should get going now.” You chuckled nervously.

“Do you have a death wish?” He crossed his arms.

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.

“The penguin’s men are out looking for you right now, if you want to die the next block over, be my guest. But in your condition you’re not capable of putting up a fight.” He leaned against the doorframe.

“What makes you say that?” You snarled at him.

Without saying anything he just pointed at your entirety. Wow. Offensive much?

“Hey I can fight.” You hissed back at him. “I’ve been worse.” You got out of the covers. Your head was still pounding.

“Alright, be my guest.” He pointed at him. “Fight your way out of here.” Surely he couldn’t be that stupid. You would snap him like a twig.

You got up pretty confidently. He was now fully blocking the doorway. How naive. As if the door was the only way out. You turned around only to find the windows screwed shut. You tried ripping them open. Not a budge.

“You think I’m that stupid?” He was very close to you now. You turned around only to find him standing right in front of you, cornering you against the window.

“I- I have to feed my cats.” You whimpered. The cats. Fuck. Paulie must be starving at this point.

“Fair point.” He sighed. “Alright, let's go feed the cats.” He smiled at you.

“No way you’re coming with me.” You scoffed.

“I’ve been to your apartment once before, remember?” He’s right. Whatever you would try to escape on the way there. Somehow there must be a way.

Zipping up your suit which was finally dry felt so good. Your sports bra you just tossed into his trash can next to his desk.

“You cut yourself out of that thing?” He laughed.

“Yea? So?”

“You know you could’ve just asked for help.” He sounded disappointed. Why would you trust him?

“I don’t trust you.” You said while putting your gloves on.

“Fair enough. You ready?” He said, putting a baseball cap on.

“Yes lets go, can’t wait to get out of this shithole.”

“Easy, this is my home.” He said in the familiar dark tone he always spoke with.

He unlocked the front door and led the way towards the elevator. You followed him hesitantly.

You stood there awkwardly waiting for the ‘ding’ of the doors opening. You both got in, his heavy boots dragging across the floor while your boots barely made a noise, although they had heels on them.

“You know you could be a little more appreciative, I saved your life.” He mumbled pressing the button.

“Excuse me?” You hissed. “You could be less of a psychotic asshat.” He chuckled at the insult.

“You could be less of a cocky hard headed bitch.” He turned towards you looking down at you. He had that twinkle in his eyes.

“I-“ you pushed yourself into the wall behind you, biting your lip. You didn’t know what to say.

He suddenly pressed the emergency break, making you snap back into reality. All you could think of was that weird dream you had. Were you attracted to this guy?

“What the fuck are we doing?” He said, his voice sounding out of breath.

“What do you mean?”

“This. This whole thing. You pretending to hate me, me pretending to hate you.”

“Oh I’m not pretending.” The words cut him deeply.

“No?” He came closer to you.

“No.” You said confidently, looking up at him, locking eyes. Those damn green eyes.

“Then why did I hear you moan my name this morning?” You turned bright red. Thank GOD for your mask right now.

“I didn’t.”

“Oh quit it.” He pushed you against the walls of the elevator, resting his hands on the railing next to you, locking you in.“I know what I heard.” He cupped your cheek softly, you didn’t even think he was capable of touching you in a soft way.

“You’re a psychopath.” You snarled at him. “You work with the penguin!” You yelled at him, pushing him back into the elevator walls now. “I’m infiltrating him, you smartass!” He replied. “Do you actually think I would work with such a despicable human being? I would kill him on the spot if I could. But that's not the smart move to make.”

You furrowed your brows. That makes so much sense now. Why he invited you there, to have more witnesses of what really goes on in the lounge.

“Oh I-“

“- had no idea?” he scoffed. Yea you really didn’t have a clue what was going on right now.

You looked back up at him. “Thank you.” You quickly got on your tippy toes and connected your lips in a quick peck. He saved your life after all. That was the least you could do. He suddenly got very flustered and seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

You pressed the emergency button and with a slight jolt the elevator was moving again.

When you got to his car he seemed awfully quiet and awkward. Did you weird him out now? How are you the weirdo? He’s the serial killer.

He almost looped around the entire city, trying to avoid the hot areas to get to your place.

You ran up the stairwell, eager to meet your fluffy companions. Paulie was already meowing at the door. You opened the door to find the entirety of your 5 cats jumping at you with such sheer force it almost knocked you over had the riddler not caught you.

“Sorry, they’re very clingy.” You chuckled. There it was again. A single rose on the table.

“Oh you shouldn’t have.” You were about to go over to the table and grab in when he stopped you in your tracks. “That's not from me. Someone else has been here. Don’t touch that.” He inched closer to the flower, inspecting it carefully. The thorns were still attached, but coated in something.

“Do you have anywhere to put your cats? They’re not safe here.” He said.

“Yea I can bring them to my friends house, she loves my cats.”

“Okay, lets grab them and get out of here.”

You both hauled the cats together and drove downtown to your friends house making sure you weren’t being followed. She happily took them in. You kissed paulie goodbye and got back into the car with him.

“This is insane.” You muttered to yourself.

“Tell me about it.” What did he have supersonic hearing or something? He started the car and drove back to his place.

A couple days and a bunch of chinese takeout later you finally started to feel better. The awkwardness between the two of you grew more precarious with each day you spent together. Your friend updated you daily on the cats and you were glad everything started to look a bit better.

He helped you fix up your bandages and even helped you wash your hair one time because you were scared of ripping open the wound. You laid in the bath while he sat behind you. Luckily it was a bubble bath so he wasn’t able to see anything but it felt oddly intimate. He wasn’t able to talk to you for the rest of the day.

This particular day, something felt even more off though. And you finally couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Okay what the fuck is your problem?” You snapped at him.

You must have startled him because he dropped whatever he was doing at his desk.

“What?” He turned around with a shocked look on his face. You were always the confrontational type. You hated it when people beat around the bush.

“Ever since the elevator and the bath this morning you have been insanely weird. Like weirder than normal. Did I do something wrong?” You got a bit sassy there.

“I- no. Its just-“ he stuttered.

“Yea?” You urged him to talk.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time.” You were shocked.

“Do what?”

“Kiss you.” Aint no motherfucking way.

“I thought we were supposed to hate eachother.” You furrowed your brows.

“Well yea at first I thought we were but if you look at it we’re fighting for the same thing. We just want this city to thrive again without corruption and drug cartels running wild.” He was actually making sense there.

“I mean you have a point but why not just…talk?” You sat up on the couch now.

“Where is the fun in that?” He asked in this pathetic creepy voice. You got up from the couch approaching him in his chair.

“Listen. I understand what you’re getting at, and I can’t lie, I did have a very weird dream about you the first time I stayed here, but can’t you just tell me what you want?”

He looked up at you. His eyes seemed glossy like he was about to cry. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Y-you.” He croaked.

“Me? You want me?” You asked, kinda playing dumb at this point. You knew exactly what he wanted.

“Yea.” He turned his chair, facing you. It was now or never. Fuck this.

You leaned forward getting closer to his face. Placing your hands on the armrests of the chair, locking him into place.

“Tell me what you want.” You whispered. You knew you had the upper hand here. He was completely flushed and overwhelmed, not knowing what to do with himself.

“I want you.” He gulped.

“Be more specific.” You bit your lower lip. You could’ve sworn he was frothing at the mouth by now.

“I want to taste you.” He slowly moved his head towards you. Almost connecting your lips you pulled back.

“See was that so hard?” You laughed. He whined at the distance between the two of you. Now you knew how to get under his skin. You would be out of here in no time.

“Are you toying with me?” He growled. His gaze darkened.

“I- No.” Now you were the one stuttering. Whatever it was about him he could take control of any situation in an instant. He seemed so innocent and pathetic sometimes and then he would switch his personality like nothing.

He pulled you back down towards him. Making you look directly at him. He glanced back and forth between your eyes and lips a couple times, before connecting them in a soft kiss. There it was again. This soft side of him. It almost seemed out of character. You relaxed your jaw and let it happen. His big hands cupping your face, his soft lips moving against yours. You got weak in the knees thinking about the fact that he had this control over you. You slowly pulled away, clearing your throat.

“Are you okay?” He stuttered. You nodded. You felt like you just got high.

“Could we maybe, lay down?” You asked sheepishly, playing with your fingers. You weren’t super experienced yourself, you had a couple boyfriends in school but never anything super serious. He nodded and took your hand into his, once again his bug palms engulfing yours. “Do you want to go to the bedroom?” He asked. You nodded again. He guided you towards the door, opening it slowly. You let yourself plop onto the soft mattress and tapped on the spot next to you. He sat down next to you.

Before you could say anything he grabbed the back of your neck and his lips crashed into yours. You buried your fingers in his hair ever so slightly pulling on it. His hands made their way onto your thighs, grabbing at the exposed skin. You flinched when he squeezed a sore spot.

“I’m sorry.” He pulled back, caressing your cheek.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. He frowned at the bruises and cuts and scratches on your body. You were still healing.

“I should have never gotten you involved.” He whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

“Don’t say that.” You wiped his cheeks. “I’m glad I’m here with you now.” You touched your nose to his.

“Can I make you feel good?” He asked under his breath.

“Y-yes.” This time a different knot formed in your stomach. Still incredibly nervous you nodded and crashed your lips back into his. He responded eagerly, asking for permission with his tongue. You ever so slightly opened your mouth and once again you had gotten the feeling that you were high. This was not happening.

“Hey uhm-“ you pulled back “what do I call you?” You only knew him as riddler and you weren’t sure how that would sound in the bedroom yet.

“Uhm its Edward.” He almost choked on his words. His lips coated in both of your saliva.

“It’s y/n” you barely got a word out. Both of you were breathing incredibly heavy at this point. You let yourself fall back onto the mattress, him climbing on top of you almost instantly. He places his hands next to your head, one of them scooping under your neck, grasping at it tightly. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him in closer, making him inhale sharply at the sudden sensation of his bulge coming into contact with your crotch. He threw his head back before looking at you again and getting to work down your neck. He placed soft kisses along your jaw down to your collarbone frowning at the fading bruises still left from when you first met. You rolled your hips against his making him groan against the soft skin of your throat. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. A couple days earlier and you would’ve slashed his throat right then and there but now? He was a totally different being. So caring and protective.

“Can I go down on you?” You whispered. His eyes widened at the request and he swallowed hard before getting off of you and standing up. His bulge now being very much visible.

“Uhm yea of course.” He reached down to open his belt.

“N-no let me.” You bit your lip looking up at him. He almost came in his pants right then and there. How you were struggling to open his heavy belt, looking up at him with your doe eyes. Once you finally got his pants to open he sloppily stepped out of them revealing a pair of gray boxer briefs with a very obvious wet spot. You salivated at the sight of it and instinctively reached out your hand to palm his dick through his underwear. He was even bigger than you imagined.

He let out a deep groan, throwing his head back and taking off his shirt. He had muscular arms but a soft stomach. His pale skin was glistening with a bit of sweat and you couldn’t help yourself but to place kisses on his soft abdomen. Teasing him you played with the waistband of his boxers. Ever so slightly dragging your nails underneath it, almost pulling it down. You were kissing his length through his underwear now and he grew more impatient with you.

“Gosh suck me off already.” He moaned.

“What do you say?” You looked up at him, grabbing his bulge tightly.

“P-please.” He managed to get out, surprised at your sudden confidence.

“Good.” You smiled. Eager to finally take him into your mouth you pulled down his underwear, letting it sit loosely around his ankles.

You started to put your hands around him, stroking him ever so slightly. You looked up at him, asking for permission. His gaze seemed almost like he was pleading you to finally take him into your mouth.

You put your lips around the very tip of his dick, letting out a little moan sending vibrations down the whole length of him. He threw his head back in absolute ecstasy when you finally put your mouth around him and started bobbing your head up and down, coating him in your saliva. He pulled back.

“Lay on your back and hang your head off the bed.” He commanded you. You did as he told you and he kneeled down in front of you, positioning himself at your mouth.

“Do you think you can take it baby?” He asked.

You nodded. He bent down to kiss you sloppily, tasting his own precum mixed in with your spit.

You tried to put your head back as far as you can, giving him as much free range as you could. You stuck out your tongue, opening your mouth for him. He palmed your boobs through your shirt while sliding into your throat very slowly. You moaned at the feeling of him filling up your mouth. His length laying heavy on the roof of your mouth. He started to move his hips back and forth, fucking your face while playing with your boobs. He lifted up your shirt exposing you while he was still relentlessly fucking your throat. He put his hand around your neck, making it even tighter for him, groaning at the sensation. You gagged and pushed against his hips in the hopes of getting some air. But he wasn’t planning on being all too gentle with you, he thrusted into you a couple more times before finally burying himself all the way into your throat. When he finally pulled himself out you gasped for air, his cock being connected to you through a thick string of saliva. He gave your boobs a soft little slap before motioning you to sit up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stroking your hair. You nodded.

“I need words.” He states shakily.

“Yes I’m good.” You moaned, wiping your mouth. He got onto the bed with you and started pulling off your pants.

“I need to taste you.” He started to hungrily kiss up your thighs, grabbing them carefully so as to not hurt you.

You moaned out in pleasure, covering your mouth with one of your hands. When he finally arrived at your bare pussy he stopped. “You’re okay with this?” You didn’t answer. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and placed his mouth onto you with such sheer force you could’ve probably broken his nose. He started licking your folds eagerly, making you cry out. Nobody has ever eaten you out like this before. “Fuck you taste so good.” He moaned between placing little kisses along the entirety of your vulva.

“Please Edward don’t stop.” You moaned out. He loved being in this position. Your thighs wrapped around his head keeping him in place, one of his hands grabbing your wrist, the other slowly making his way to your wet cunt.

You almost screamed when he pushed a finger into you, starting to pump in and out of you without warning. His long slender fingers curling in just the right way to make you feel like you were reaching your high soon. “I’m gonna..” you couldn’t finish your sentence as you were just reaching your climax. He didn’t stop though. He kept torturing you, keeping you in place, holding onto your thighs. When he finally let go you almost cried out in pleasure. You took off your shirt completely now. He climbed his way on top of you again, his mouth covered in your slick, you kissed him hungrily not caring about tasting yourself. “I need you so bad” he moaned into your mouth.

“What do you need?” You asked in a condescending tone, knowing exactly what he needed.

“Please I need to feel you around my cock.”

“Beg for it then.” You whispered onto his lips. His eyes darkened again. You knew he wouldn’t play along for long. He placed himself at your entrance without hesitation and thrusted his entire length into you making you open your mouth but not a sound coming out. He covered your mouth with his hand, once again placing the other behind your neck, grasping it firmly.

“The only one begging for anything will be you.” He growled at you starting to thrust into you relentlessly. You wrapped your legs around his hips wanting to take more of him.

“Look at you being a needy little whore.” He grunted. You moaned against his hand, your eyes rolling back.

He pulled himself off of you, still locking his gaze with yours, but now placing his hand around your throat keeping you in place. You whined at the sensation, making you think back to your first encounter. How scared you were. How scared you still are. He noticed your change in behavior and instantly paced himself a bit.

“Shh its okay, I’m not here to hurt you, I want to make you feel good.” He whispered, giving you a kiss on the lips. You nodded in agreement, still being overpowered by the amount of pleasure.

He pulled himself out of you completely and flipped you onto your stomach, again aligning himself at your entrance.

He took your hands and intertwined them with his, before grinding his hips into yours. This time he wasn’t thrusting aimlessly. He was grinding his hips down into yours, putting his full weight onto you, placing soft kisses against your neck and shoulders. He cupped his hand under your jaw, making you look back up at him.

“I’m all yours.” He moaned under his breath.

You couldn’t help but tear up a bit. You’ve been through so much the past few days. Feeling him so close to you in this way completely overwhelmed you, sending you over the edge once again. He noticed you clenching down on his length, sending him into absolute overdrive.

“I can’t hold it back anymore.” He moaned next to your ear. With a couple more pumps he finished inside of you. Completely filling you up. He panted on top of you for a second before slowly removing himself, instantly grabbing a shirt to stuff under you. The cum was dripping out of you in such a way he would’ve loved to wreck you all over again. He gave you a soft kiss onto your back before he stood up and left the room. Did he just leave you here? Did he truly just toy with you. Seconds later he came back with what looked like a robe. He opened it for you and motioned you to get in. You slowly got up, clenching as hard as you can as to not ruin his entire set of sheets.you swiftly made your way to the bathroom and sat on the toilet, letting the rest of his liquids flow out of you.

He came into the room, sweaty, out of breath and looking absolutely content. Edward walked over to the tub, turning on the faucet. “Did you want to take a bath?” He asked, his breath still shaking. You nodded. You were absolutely spent.

Slowly you lowered yourself into the warm tub, laying between his legs, resting your head against his chest.

“How does it feel to sleep with the enemy?” He chuckled.

“Were we ever enemies?” You looked back up at him. He shook his head smiling. “No, not really.”

He pulled you in tighter and you could’ve sworn both of you laid there for an entire eternity.

#riddler 2022 #dano riddler #riddler x you #smut #batman 2022 #paul dano #catwoman #the batman #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you

[silversiren1101]

so i understand if you don't want to answer all (or any) of these, especially since I'm pretty sure at least some of it will be covered in the fic you're working on, but I really wanted to know....

What were Mino's foundling's like? And later on, since Mino sees as her kids, I assume she also sees them as Jess's older siblings? Does she ever tell Jess about them, and if so, how much does she tell her? If Jess finds out about them, how does she feel about these older siblings she'll never meet?

Wah! Thank you for sending in an ask! And giving me a chance to talk about Mino's foundlings. I'm still workshopping their names but there is one that is concrete, and you'll understand.

Minovae found them right at the end of the civil war, during restoration efforts when doing search and rescue (and 'cleaning' *cough cough killing undead and monsters and bandits) in the district of Westcrown she both grew up in and had a part in its total destruction: Rego Plea, though it was already starting to be referred to as Rego Cader. She heard screaming and sounds of trouble, and arrived into a ruined part of the subterranean aqueducts there just in time to save the three tiefling brothers she'd take in as her adopted wards from a otyugh. Starving, sick, and terrified, they'd lost their parents and just been trying to survive, and even though she'd saved them from a horrible monster, the sight of her Hellknight armor actually led to the oldest (only 12 at the time!) to try and stab her with a broken dagger he'd been using to protect his younger siblings.

She only gently disarmed him, tried to wipe his cheeks clean, and asked who he was and why they were here and alone. It took some gentle but firm prying for her to get their story, and the minute she did she knew she couldn't turn them over to any orphanage--not with her own childhood experience. Who would take in three obviously devil-blooded kids, with their bright red skin and pointed horns and black-yellow eyes? She declared she would see them cared for by invoking the title of Foundling, and that with nearly every city overflowing with orphans and resources low, the Order of the Scourge wouldn't contest her claim as they could actually afford to take them in.

The three of them are:

Finley (Age 12): Oldest of the three. Fiercely protective and independent. First instinct is to turn down help and do everything himself. Also loves to help when he is specifically asked for it - Mino recognizes the same need she has in him to be deemed useful and needed for protection's sake. He's also secretly generous and giving, as he's been caught sharing food with the resident stray cats and taking care of them.

Aver (Age 9): The middle brother is the most quiet and withdrawn, and also the most likely to flinch. One of his horns being broken and signs of a long broken cheekbone told Mino all she needed to know, especially as both his brothers tend to swarm protectively over him. He comes out of his shell when engaged through art or books (the signifers teach them all to read but he really latches onto it), especially when the subject matter is knights and heroic figures.

Morgeth (Age 8): Youngest. Tries hardest to be strong, since that's the last thing he remembers of their parents "Stay strong for your brothers" (he used to be a crybaby). Rejects things he says "are for babies" even when really wanting them. Mino usually has to trick him in some way for him to accept gifts or treats.

The three of them come with her to Citadel Demain (a bit far from Westcrown but it's nicer than Citadel Rivad, the Scourge's new home, and actively under reconstruction) where they begin a new life of structure: regular meals, regular chores, regular education. Foundlings are overwhelmingly raised by Signifers in the Orders, and it's no exception for these three, though Mino spends a lot of time with them, dotes on them, and starts saving up money for when they age out. She absolutely begins to consider them hers. There's a lot of chafing at first, but who can blame three tiefling orphans not even in their teens yet for it? Being surrounded by Hellknights is terrifying at first, especially the masked signifers who aren't as soft as their savior (though not cruel to them in the slightest, just a bit chilly). The three learn to read and write, begin to learn history, and Aver even begins some basic magical training as a sorcerer's spark reveals itself in him.

[Spoilered for the next bit - since it concerns child death.]

The next four-ish years are among the happiest of her life by then, as she works in Egorian and gets to see her 'sons' whenever she returns to Citadel Demain - watching them grow healthy and strong and happy and cared for.

Their loss is... it's the worst moment of her entire life. Finley turned 16 and didn't want to enlist. She knew he wouldn't and it was never expected of him, but he did not take the prospect of being separated from his younger brothers well. Mino tried to reason with him, produced all the money she'd saved up to get him a home and settle him someplace close by, where she would bring Aver and Morgeth to visit whenever she could. The younger two also didn't like Finley having to leave now that he'd aged-out, and try as she might, she could not get them to accept it would only be for a few more years until they also became 16 and could live together.

They boys waited until she left Demain to leave with Finley - sending her a letter that thanked her for everything and that they loved her, but they couldn't be separated.

It took her weeks to find them. The fact it was related to a spread of missing persons cases she'd been working on for months broke her. A lesser Thrune had been trying to gain power by taking those that "wouldn't be missed" off the streets and from slums, ritually sacrificing them to some devil they'd formed a pact with. Finley was still alive when she arrived, but it was only a matter of time. There was no saving him. She ended his suffering as gently as she could and even to this day can barely remember the whirlwind of rage and slaughter that happened afterward at the complex. The cultist death count from her grief was over twenty before she was subdued by the Order of the Glyph and dragged a bleeding chained mess to Abrogail Is feet for interrogation and torture (since she learned some things about the Thrune's contract with Hell).

Decades later, nearly a century even, Minovae is still like to have to fight off a tear when something reminds her of her lost sons, even though they were only a part of her life for barely four years. Finding Finnean was a strange experience, his name similar enough to Finley's that even with her memories gone, she found a few tears rolling down her cheeks when the errant pathfinder had introduced himself to her, not knowing why.

In post-game canon, she holds their memories close to her heart, and even closer after she has her biological daughter, Jesyll. She waits a few years to tell her about them, and points to the Foundlings about Citadel Darvhage, explaining she'd had three of her own (the Order of the Vice continues the practice of course). She tells Jess gradually more as she gets older, at first only explaining that they died in a tragic accident, then telling her truth once Jesyll fully comes to understand the threat of House Thrune and what her parents have been working towards for years now: their total destruction and usurpation.

Jess' relation with them is complicated, of course. When she's younger, she's sad she had brothers she'll never meet. She's sad that mom fights back tears whens he talks about them, and how happy she seems when she talks about the brighter memories with them. Coming to learn the truth, and at that point Thrune has already blatantly tried to kill her and her family at least twice... well let's just say she inherits her mother's strong sense of justice. It's not difficult for her to infer just how many other cases there have been like this in this damned country, and her outrage only feeds into her revolutionist spirit.

I like to think as an adult she also has a habit of charity and caring for orphans displaced by tragedy, seeing it as carrying on a family tradition.

#oc: minovae arangeir #oc: jesyll arangeir-derenge #thanks for the ask! her foundlings are such a short window in her life but arguably one of the most formative #tw: child death #mino's foundlings

[thesparklingwriter]

a matter of sickness

'Archons don't get sick, and neither do dragons...'

tags: fem!reader pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, reader is ill, Zhongli does not know what to do with himself, fluff no plot, author is still very tired

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Zhongli has limited experience with illness. Archons don't get sick, and neither do dragons.

However, his pretty human wife does, and he doesn't know how to handle that. Especially when, for some reason, you don't understand that you need to rest.

"Li, please!" you complain between coughs. "I'm fine, really. There's no need for any of this."

He ignores you, propping you up with yet another pillow. He's had no sleep, concerned that your condition had worsened every time you tumbled into a fit of coughs in the middle of the night. He's tired, and therefore cranky, and he's desperate to somehow make you well again. Having a sick wife is putting a type of tension on his shoulders that he has never experienced before.

"If you won't rest, at the very least, stop protesting so you can give your throat a rest." He says curtly, though one look at you has him taking back every word. You're not used to Zhongli being harsh with you and no matter the cause, it always leaves you on the verge of tears. Noticing your reaction, he sits on the bed beside you and strokes your hair. "I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

You sniff, staring at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. You're exhausted and emotionally fragile as a result of the night of no sleep. You lift your arms so he can pull you into a hug. "It's okay."

"I'm not used to those around me being unwell. I sincerely apologise." you nod into his shoulder, a stray tear escaping, despite the fact he's already apologised. "Please drink some tea."

The first thing Zhongli did when sunlight hit the window was going straight to Dr Baizhu. Mainly because he didn't think he could endure another night of fearing for his wife’s life. After explaining your illness to him, Dr Baizhu laughed at Zhongli.

"You seem to be getting soft," he marvelled. "All for a human."

Zhongli really didn’t appreciate that. He was already stressed since you were on the mountain alone, and now he was being ridiculed by the doctor. He bit back his complaint, grit his teeth and waited for a prescription.

"She just has a common cold. She'll be better in a day or two, provided she rests and drinks lots of fluids. This should help with the coughing." Dr Baizhu said, passing Zhongli a box of tea bags. He thanked the doctor dutifully, not that he truly believed that he had been much help, and ran back home to you, praying you hadn't noticed the fact he was missing. You had.

That was the start of everything going downhill. You'd panicked because you thought something had happened to him, and had worked yourself up, he was tired and annoyed by Dr Baizhu's comments, and the panic in your eyes when you saw him made him regret leaving.

“Li, it’s too hot. It hurts,” you whisper, pushing the cup of tea back to him.

“My love, you have to at least try for me.” He replies, If he could magically make the drink colder for you, he would do it in a heartbeat. But he can't, so he settles for blowing on the drink for you.

You shake your head no, and Zhongli knows better than to scold you again. As tired as he is, he doesn't think he can cope with making you cry again.

"I'm cold," you whine again.

"Maybe you should drink your tea," Zhongli quips. It's been a particularly hot summer, so he'd put the majority of the thicker covers in the closet to keep them out of the way. He pulls out the warmest one he can find, and drapes it over you. You thank him gratefully, but continue to insist that you will not be drinking the tea if it continues to be hotter than the archipelagos in mid-summer at midday. Zhongli laughs at your dedication to your metaphor.

"Are you always so mean to sick people?" You ask. Zhongli sits in bed next to you, and wraps his arms around your shivering body. You feel yourself warming up immediately.

"I'm not accustomed to people who are ill, so I can't answer that question," he says. "Archons don't usually experience human ailments. The only other possibility is corruption, but recovery from that is rare. Especially if it's from the Abyss."

You scowl. "Let's not talk about the Abyss. One of their men gave me this dumb cold. I should have killed him on sight instead of trying to not engage him." You’re not often this open about how you feel about your experiences in combat, so Zhongli supposes that being ill lends itself to callousness.

"You tried to spare a Fatui? How gracious of you." Zhongli marvels. He can't keep up with your moods. Sometimes you seem to want death to each and every single one of them, other times, you're happy to just let them be. You cough.

"Never again. They can all die.”

“Even Childe?” Zhongli teases.

“Don’t talk to me about him. He can die too, for making you do the Fatui’s dirty work.” You move closer to Zhongli, if that’s even possible, another chill running through you. “See? Now I’m getting shivers.”

He laughs, and you feel him shift into his slightly less human form, just as you hoped. He’s much warmer this way—almost as if the sheer power of his archon form radiates heat. Plus, there’s more of him to wrap around you like this. For some reason, his tougher skin somehow feels like velvet against yours, and the tickle of his hair is familiar and soothing. Never has a person ever felt more like home to you. 

“I cannot keep up with your mood swings.” He chuckles. “If I keep you here like this for at least another hour, will you drink the tea then?”

“No.” You reply. You’re nothing if not open and honest, and Zhongli appreciates that. His contracts mean that he has to keep quiet about a great manner of things, but that fact that you have no such problems is of great joy to him. He always knows what’s running through your mind.

When the hour is up, and he feels like the period of resting—as well as releasing his archon form—has rejuvenated him sufficiently, he slide outs of your arms and heads off to the kitchen. Your next complaint, other than being cold or in pain, will most likely be that you’re hungry. You’ll never accept anything unless he’s made it or it came from Wanmin, and Celestial help him if you wake up without him again. He’s barely in the kitchen for five minutes before you come staggering along, barely even awake and dragging your feet across the tiled floor. You press yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist. If he’s surprised by your presence, or how clammy you are to the touch, he doesn’t mention it.

“I need you,” You’re not ashamed by your lack of tact.

Zhongli chuckles. “You have a heater and a blanket in there. I am sure you’ll be fine on your own for half an hour, love.”

“No,” You complain. “Not like that.”

He turns to face you. As much as he loves hearing that he’s as indisposable to you as you are to him, he’s not falling for your antics. He notes that being ill makes you blood-thirsty and boosts your libido somehow. What a strange combination.

“You are sick, and you’re supposed to be resting. It’s a no.” He kisses your forehead to soften the blow of the rejection. It doesn’t work.

“Please?”

“No.”

You huff, and plonk yourself on a dining table chair. “Your wife is sick and you won’t even do the bare minimum to make her less miserable.”

“No no,” Zhongli laughs. “Let’s not go there, hm? You’ve rejected every single attempt I’ve made to lessen your pain.”

“I never asked for those attempts.” You reply indignantly.

“Okay, how about we make a deal? You rest that pretty mouth of yours while I make you something to eat, and when you return to your usual health we can hunt some Fatui down and make them regret making you ill. Is that satisfactory?”

You smile then, the disappointment that his proposal was a slight deviation from what you really wanted disappearing. You loved beating the Fatui to a crisp. Especially when it was a revenge mission.

a/n: can you tell i like brat tamers or is it not clear yet

#zhongli #flufftober #zhongli fluff #zhongli flufftober #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli fanfic #my beloved <3 #i like zhongli a healthy #normal amount #tswzhongliflufftober #minors dni #[🚨]—restricted fiction

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand: Chapter Twenty-Two - The Beginning of the End

Just another update from me! Sorry if this is a messy chapter, I’m literally so tired today :(

But I really hope you enjoy!

___________________________________________________

The silence draped over the prison like fallout. The obsessive whispers of Yaba and Kotoko fell on deaf ears, and I barely even registered Chishiya’s footsteps as he walked away from the cell. Ippei’s cell. Or at least, his remains. 

Ippei never did see the sunrise. He never saw the dawn sliding over the city. He would lie in an unmarked grave, having passed away in an everlasting nighttime - a constant nightmare. And that thought alone was too much to bear.

The sunrise spilled into my cell through a window on the back wall that I hadn’t been able to see until now. Sitting on the floor of my cell, fists clenched around my collar, I knew that this was it. 

The beginning of the end. 

My head spun as I tried to stand. The darkness, the exhaustion, the solitude… it was in my bones, wearing me down from the inside. But if I ended this game right here, I would be finally be able to feel the dawn on my face, not through the windowpanes, but outside in the summer breeze. I would be able to do what Ippei couldn’t. And now that he was gone, everything had changed. 

Chishiya doesn’t have a partner anymore. 

There was a deep seated anger raging within me. However, even if I wanted to scream and spit in his face, I also wanted him to live. But I was helpless in this cell. I couldn’t do much for him unless he came to me first, and Chishiya was far too proud for that. The only reassurance I had was that Chishiya had a knack for surviving no matter what. 

Knowing him, he’ll come up with a strategy. He always does. 

But, it wasn’t Chishiya whom I hated more than anything - it was the Jack of Hearts. For ruining us, for destroying so many lives, for creating a game this cruel, this inhumane. 

I can’t wait to see him fall. 

I paced and paced around my cell, mulling things over and staving off sleep, only to freeze when I noticed a dark shape in the mesh window of the door. A face. But not the one I was expecting.

‘Enji,’ I said. 

It was strange seeing him here. Banda must have been in a secret meeting with Yaba, otherwise Enji would never have strayed near. He was pressed right up against the door. You,’ he whispered. ‘Who are you.’ 

‘You already know my name.’ 

He ignored the comment. ‘Tell me, are you a citizen or a player?’ 

‘And why do you need to know?’ 

‘I need to know if you’re the Jack.’ 

I stepped closer until I could see every line that marred his skin. ‘I think we both know that I’m not.’ 

He scoffed, and I had never hated someone more. ‘You seem confident for someone who’ll die by the next round.’ 

I merely smiled at him. ‘That’s because I am confident.’ 

It was only when he tilted his head that I saw it. A slight blue sheen, lurking just beneath the locks of hair covering his face. I wouldn’t have noticed it if not for the daylight. His left eye was obviously a prosthetic, which would explain why he kept it covered. But prosthetic eyes didn’t usually have a sheen to them. Not unless they were electronic.  

Is that how?

What a disgusting tactic. 

It seemed that Enji hadn’t noticed me staring. ‘You can’t win this game,’ he said. ‘Even if you’re the last player standing, the Jack will always win.’ 

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that.’ 

I stared him in his prosthetic eye — a move which he seemed to dislike as he backed away from the window, grumbling something under his breath before leaving for the guardroom. In a way, I was glad he paid me a visit. It would only make winning the game that little bit easier. 

And more satisfying.

Stewing in my cell, I mentally prepared myself for Banda’s final visit. With only six players left, this would be the last round: Round Thirteen. And there was only one titbit of information that I had left to offer. 

I splashed some water on my face, more impatient than ever to end this constant silence. Now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, I was itching to get there, whatever it took. And so, when Banda finally rolled around to my cell, appearing in the window just as Enji had earlier, I snapped at him. 

‘What took you so long?’ 

Banda smiled calmly. ‘You’re too impatient.’

‘We can’t waste time,’ I insisted. ‘The Jack will have already started making his move.’ 

‘Then tell me who the Jack is,’ he said. 

Not so fast. 

As always, I moved my hair out of the way to expose the back of my collar. ‘You’ll have to tell me my suit first.’ 

He sighed, impatient. ‘You’re a Diamond.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, letting my hair fall back into place. If I wanted to end this game, I had to make this exchange count. ‘Have you swapped suits with Enji yet?’ 

‘No. He’s still down in the cafeteria with that guy, Chishiya.’ 

My breath hitched. 

Chishiya’s down there with him?

If I had to hazard a guess, Chishiya would be trying to convince Enji to tell him his suit. In that case, Enji would most definitely tell him wrong one to throw Chishiya off and eliminate him. 

‘So Enji is the Jack of Hearts…’ Banda mused, breaking me out of my reverie. He must have figured it out from my expression. ‘That does explain the cookies,’ he added.  

I tried to explain everything clearly, even if I wasn’t sure whether I was making sense. ‘He’s going to tell you the wrong suit. And he’ll tell Kotoko the wrong suit and ask her to lie to Yaba. Right now, he’s down there probably lying to Chishiya too. He must be banking on me being the only one left, and losing by default. His plan is to be the last man standing.’ 

‘I see.’ Banda nodded slowly. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to lie to him.’ 

I shook my head. ‘It won’t work,’ I told him. ‘Enji’s eye is a prosthetic, the one he keeps covered. But it’s not a normal prosthetic. I can’t prove it, but I have a feeling he’s using it to check his suit.’ 

Banda looked thoroughly unconvinced. ‘And how exactly would you know this?’

‘He came here before, when you were meeting with Yaba. I saw his eye, and it was strange. Prosthetics are normally made of glass, but this one had a sheen to it, like a cat’s eye. It was electronic. I think it could be linked to his collar.’  

‘The rules said that—’

‘The rules said that players can’t use reflective objects to cheat,’ I clarified. ‘They didn’t say anything about the Jack.’ 

‘In other words, Enji can’t lose,’ Banda surmised.  

Now that I thought about it properly, it was so obvious. He had given himself away right from the start — a true One-Eyed Jack. 

‘Well this is interesting.’ Banda muttered, thinking deeply. ‘So lying to him won’t actually work. I suppose I’ll have to make him want to choose the wrong suit.’ 

Huh? Why would he purposely choose the wrong suit?

‘That makes no sense,’ I said. ‘He wouldn’t do that.’ 

Banda smiled darkly, but it didn’t reach his dead eyes. ‘I can be very convincing when I want to be.’  He stepped away from the window, looking into the guardroom. ‘Enji will be back any time now. The next time we meet, the game will be over.’ 

With that, he left. Once again, all I could do was wait. I had given him the information he needed, and for the time being, there was nothing I could do directly. It was clear that Banda had something in store for Enji, something to convince him to intentionally lie, but as for what? It was beyond me. All I wanted was to get out of this damn cell. 

How long was left? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? I couldn’t sit still in my cell, knowing that it was all out of my control now. It was also worrying me a little that Chishiya hadn’t stopped by once. I couldn’t help but wonder whether he really was too proud to stop by my cell and ask for his suit, or if he was angry at me for ignoring his advice? 

 I don’t know how long I waited before the same, calm feminine voice chimed out. 

‘THE HOUR IS ALMOST OVER. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE CELLS.’

This is it. 

The moment Enji’s tower would come crumbling down around him. Even if I didn’t want to, I had to trust in Banda. None of us could leave the venue until Enji was dead, and so long as he had that prosthetic eye, he couldn’t die. 

I just hope he knows what he’s doing.  

One by one, they all filed into the cell block. First Chishiya, followed by Banda and Enji. Judging by the murmurs I could hear from downstairs, Yaba and Kotoko were on the floor just below us.

‘IT IS TIME TO MAKE YOUR GUESS. EVERYONE, PLEASE ENTER A CELL. ONE PERSON PER CELL, PLEASE.’

Without speaking, everyone turned into their individual cells. But what took me by surprise was seeing Chishiya choose a different cell this time. He was no longer directly opposite me, but several doors down instead. 

He doesn’t want anything to do with me… that must be it. 

I couldn’t think about him right now. He was clearly too stubborn to act as my backup and confirm my suit. But it didn’t matter. I had to trust that Banda was telling the truth. He had yet to lie, and if he wanted me dead, I would’ve been splattered across the walls by now. I stepped away from the door, my heart erratic with anticipation. 

‘PLEASE MAKE YOUR GUESS.’

Please let it be the truth. 

‘ダイヤ,’ I said. Diamond. 

I didn’t know what I expected to happen, but there was nothing. No noise. No shouts. No explosions. 

‘Is that it—?’

A wet bang echoed through the block, coming directly from below. My heart shuddered as I listened for any signs of life. Yaba or Kotoko - it could have been either of them. Our success depended on it. 

But which one? 

There was a whirring noise as the lock clicked and buzzer sounded. And even then… none of the cell doors opened. I crept closer to the window, trying to see what was going on.

Chishiya couldn’t have… he couldn’t!

Finally, there was a creak as a cell door slowly opened. I took a sharp breath, hoping to see blond hair and a familiar smirk. However, it was not Chishiya, but Enji who stepped out. He took one look around the empty block. 

‘I won,’ he murmured. 

Slowly, his face cracked into a grin. A small chuckle escaped his lips, building and building until he was laughing like a madman basking in his victory. He spun, eyes glinting as he spotted me, stricken behind my door. 

‘I told you, didn’t I? The Jack will always win.’ He stepped closer, oozing with a confidence he had hidden so well. ‘And now, since just just the two of us, you’ll die by default. Just as I said you would.’ 

The world came crashing down around me, and I was stunned into silence, unable to believe what I was seeing. Was this really the end of the road? Not for him. But for all of us. For me. It wasn’t quite how I thought I would go. 

I closed my eyes as they welled with unshed tears. 

I’m sorry…

A door creaked open. And within seconds, the world righted itself. 

‘Just as I thought, you’re the Jack of Hearts.’ 

That familiar voice… that smirk… he had the nerve to walk out of his cell with his hands in his pockets, as though he hadn’t just cheated death as his own game. My heart swelled with relief, hurt, anger. 

Enji was frozen in place. ‘How?’ 

Overconfident as usual, Chishiya didn’t hold back. ‘I saw when you and that murderer, Banda, paired up. Even if you were impressed by what Banda said, there’s no way anyone could be so accepting of a stranger that quickly.’ His eyes slid over to mine. ‘You certainly weren’t with her.’

A part of me wondered whether Chishiya had wanted me to pair with them just for that purpose. And if so, it only fuelled the anger burning within me, being used as a tool to aid his strategies. But there was something else he said that gave me pause; he had called Banda a murderer. 

Is that what he meant earlier, when he said that he was dangerous?

I had never heard of a murderer named Banda Sunato. But then, I hadn’t been able to understand Japanese newspapers. 

There was a clang of metal as another cell door opened, and speaking of the devil, Banda’s smooth voice sounded through the cell block. ‘There aren’t many people who’d approach someone like me,’ he said. ‘And if you tried to kill me, then you’re either scheming, you’re just a plain idiot, a psychopath or a sociopath.’ 

Enji’s hands began to shake. ‘You… why did you?’ 

‘To find out which one you were, I decided to play along. You thought that you could control me.’ Banda took calm, measured steps towards Enji, who didn’t dare move. ‘You were also confident that you were superior to everyone else. It’s why you treated our third group member like dirt.’ 

’The more important your position is,’ Chishiya interjected, ‘the more your confidence manifests itself. Just like the Jack of Hearts.’ 

Enji’s shook his head. ‘Sorry, but it’s not me,’ he insisted, and pointed at Banda. ‘Banda is the Jack.’ 

The accusation was lost as footsteps sounded from the stairwell, the echo drawing everyone’s attention. From within my cell, I tried to angle my head against the window so that I could see better. 

‘It’s such a shame…’ Yaba’s voice rang out from the stairwell as he casually emerged into the block. ‘But it’s not Banda.’ 

Yaba strolled towards us, suit sharper than ever despite the situation at hand. Enji’s face flashed with confusion, and it was so wonderful to see. 

Your plan didn’t work…

‘You were in cahoots with Kotoko,’ Yaba said. ‘I told Kotoko her real suit, but she still died. It means somebody else was controlling her.’

‘Then—’ Enji frantically doubled back, pointing at Chishiya. ‘Then that guy must be the Jack!’ 

Calm as ever, Chishiya strolled towards my cell. I watched through the grate as he removed whatever was jamming the lock and opened my cell door. It was like taking a breath of fresh air, as I finally stepped out. The cell block seemed huge after being stuck in such a cramped space, the concrete ceilings stretching on forever. I had to lean against the wall to keep up my strength, but it didn’t matter. Anything was better than being in that cave.  

‘What did you just do?’ Enji spluttered. 

‘I noticed it earlier in the cafeteria,’ Chishiya replied, then tilted his head towards me, ‘but I wasn’t the only one.’

‘スナック,’ I said, trying to remember my grammar once more. The snacks. ‘あなたと琴子はおやつを使ってコミュニケーションをとっていた’ You and Kotoko used the snacks to communicate. 

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Enji sneered. ‘What kind of theory is that?’ 

‘それらのクッキー’, I continued. Those cookies. ‘四つの色があった. 四つの味.’ There were four colours. Four flavours. 

‘And four suits,’ Chishiya concluded, as I struggled to find the right words. As I spoke once more, he began to translate for me. 

‘Every time I ran into Kotoko,’ I explained, ‘she was alone in the cafeteria. I noticed that you and her would get the same kinds of snacks. Whenever I joked about it to you, you would get mad at me. I didn’t realise why at the time, but I figured it out pretty quickly. Both of you pretended that you were being controlled, when in fact you were using the snacks to confirm that your suits were correct.’

Yaba made a noise of agreement. ‘You told Kotoko to lie to me about my suit. I really did trust her, except at the end.’ 

Enji’s eyes flitted between the four of us, his breaths coming more and more unsteadily with every passing second. ‘When did you guys all start working together?’ 

‘In the opening announcement for this game,’ Yaba said, ‘they said that it’s a test of how much you trust others.’ He began to walk slowly toward Banda. ‘We simply followed that advice. The best way to build trust isn’t through persuasion, manipulation, or even domination… nor is it through brainwashing or manipulation, deception, fear.’ He stopped at Banda’s side, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. ‘It’s equality.’ 

Enji’s jaw turned slack as he realised what he was faced with. ‘No… no, that can’t be!’ He spun on his heel and pointed at me. ‘You weren’t working with any of them. You could still be the Jack!’ 

‘すでにそれを試しました,’ I muttered. You already tried that once.  

His eyes burned into mine. ‘Who the hell are you?’ 

Chishiya stepped closer towards me. ‘She’s my partner.’ 

I scowled, and moved further away. 

Like hell you are. 

From behind Enji, I saw Banda’s eyes narrow with realisation. I had always been unsure of whether he would figure out that Chishiya was confirming the suits he gave me. But if his expression was anything to go by, Banda had no idea. 

‘What?’ Enji cried out. ‘You two…’ His eyes darted between Chishiya and I. ‘It’s still possible that one of you is the Jack of Hearts! Maybe I did try to deceive you guys, but you can’t assume I’m the Jack based on that!’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Chishiya interjected smoothly. ‘If those two were so sure that you’re the Jack, then why didn’t Banda lie to you in the last round and try to kill you? They must have formed some kind of deal’ He circled around Enji, uttering his next words with a knowing smirk. ‘Maybe they’re going to get some information out of you.’ 

Banda and Yaba stalked towards Enji, and now I knew what Banda had planned. What he had said earlier finally clicked in the worst way possible… 

“I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

So that was Banda’s true nature. I swallowed, shivers running all along my skin. They were going to torture him until he gave up and lied about his suit.  

‘You can’t!’ Enji cried, as Banda took him by the arm, Yaba grabbing the other. ‘You can’t do this!’ 

I stood straighter as I stared Enji down. ‘他に選択肢はない,’ I said. There’s no other option. I frowned at that stupid flop of hair covering half his face. ‘その目… 首輪につながっているね.’ That eye of yours… it’s linked to your collar, isn’t it? 

Enji’s face crumpled as he realised that I had seen right through his rigged game. He thrashed wildly against the two restraining him. But it was useless as Yaba and Banda dragged him into a cell. It felt good, in a messed up way. I thought of Ippei, of the older woman, Headband, Glasses, all the lives that were wasted in this place. This prison smelled like death. But now, the dawn had risen. 

Yaba and Banda closed the cell door behind them, and I stepped forward, trying to see what they were doing to him. However, before I could get any closer, Chishiya’s hand wrapped around my arm. I shook him off instantly, pulling away as though his touch had burned me. 

‘Don’t,’ I said quietly. ‘Just don’t.’ 

Chishiya’s mouth tilted into a half-smile. ‘Don’t what? Save your life?’ 

‘What do you mea—?’

The cell door opened once more, revealing Banda. He was holding a straight razor in one hand, and his eyes shifted between me and Chishiya. Something didn’t feel right. There was a strange smile on his face, as though he was laughing at a private joke.

‘What?’ I asked him. ‘Aren’t you going to finish off Enji so we can leave by the next round?’

Banda inspected the razor in his hand. ‘I have plenty of time to enjoy Enji,’ he said. ‘But you’re finally out of that cell.’ 

The razor glinted, clean and beautiful in its danger. And all at once, I came to an understanding. The reason why Banda had wanted me alive. 

Banda Sunato, the murderer… 

‘It’s a shame that you two were secretly partners all this time,’ he murmured. ‘But I can still make this work.’ 

The world slowed as Banda strode towards me, gripping the razor blade in one hand. My body wouldn’t move. It couldn’t. And all I could see was that razor and those dead, dead eyes, suddenly filled with a darkness I hadn’t noticed before. 

Banda is…

The crack of a gunshot ricocheted through the cell block. I leapt out of the way, as did Banda, and I stumbled to the ground with my palms pressed to my ears. The sound burst through my head, echoing and echoing until I realised that my ears were ringing. 

And then I raised my head, finally noticing the pistol in Chishiya’s outstretched hand. 

#alice in borderland #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc

[bro-atz]

1024UB CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: WE SHOULD BE MORE CAREFUL...

word count: 2.1k

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

To be completely honest, Gyuri thought that she would get sick and tired of San after their vacation. Boy was she wrong and more wrong. That vacation only made her crave him even more. She couldn’t wait for class to be over so she could be with him. That was how whipped she was. She couldn’t believe she actually got to that point in a romantic relationship. San did something to her that no other person could possibly do to her, not even Seonghwa.

Whenever Gyuri and San weren’t in class, they spent time at either of their apartments. Usually it was Gyuri’s apartment, like it was that fine day. Since Iseul wasn’t home, the two of them were cuddling on the couch— pretty family friendly compared to how they usually were. Gyuri’s back was pressed against San’s strong chest, one of his hands holding hers while the other one was wrapped around her chest. He was holding her hand up and inspecting her fingers while his other hand started straying towards her breast.

“Hey,” she turned to look at his face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His hand continued closer as he replied with a smirk, “Touching you.”

Gyuri rolled her eyes and readjusted herself in San’s embrace, her back pressing further into his chest. She felt his lips press against the back of her ear. She didn’t realize how much that would turn her on until she felt his nose brush against her ear. She held back a shiver as his kisses trailed down her neck and to her shoulders. He pulled down her sleeve to expose her shoulder, and she instinctively held his hand just a bit tighter, earning a muffled laugh from him.

“God, you’re so amazing,” he breathed out before bringing his face up to kiss her cheek. “You’re so sexy.”

San turned her head lightly to bring her lips to his. Gyuri happily obliged, her cheeks starting to become rosy. Gyuri fought against her body, though. She suppressed her moans and physical reactions to how much she enjoyed San’s embrace and warm touch because she had an agenda.

“San, you know we can only be like this in secret, right?” Gyuri started. “We need to be more careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“We got too used to being affectionate in public during our vacation. We can’t do that here, yet.”

“Why don’t we just tell the group about us?” San whined.

“Because of Seonghwa,” she sighed. “Also, I don’t know about you, but I kind of like them not knowing about us. I feel like the group would get super annoying about us being together.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. I know Wooyoung would be bugging us all the time,” he agreed. “And, yeah, Seonghwa… We should tell him as soon as possible, though, right?”

“I still haven’t really talked to him about his confession… I can’t find a good time to bring it up for that matter.”

“You’re right. I still think you should sit Seonghwa down and tell him the truth sooner rather than later.”

“I agree, it’s just so difficult…”

“I get that. Okay, we won’t tell everyone, but on one condition,” San said seriously.

“What is that?”

“We go out together in public. I want to take you out on dates,” he proposed.

After a moment of consideration, Gyuri responded slowly, “I don’t know… That seems way too risky.”

“Iseul and Yunho covered us during our vacation, right? We can get them to help us out with this, too,” he insisted. “Let us date properly, please. I want to go to those museum exhibits with you, watching movies in theaters with you, go for nice dinners and grab dessert after with you.”

Truth be told, Gyuri wanted to do all those things and more as well. She was finally in a relationship that she was actually comfortable in, and she wanted to be able to be in that relationship under normal circumstances. Timidly, she nodded, only to add, “Okay, but I think we should establish a couple of rules.”

“What rules were you thinking?”

“Well, we should dress like celebrities when we go out to meet each other, like with sunglasses, hats, masks— those types of things. And, if we want to go to each other’s apartments, instead of sneaking around, we should either dress like celebrities or actually leave things at the apartments so that it gives us a proper excuse to go over,” Gyuri held up her fingers to count the rules.

San, meanwhile, lowered his head to her shoulder. She could feel him staring at her lustfully before she felt his teeth nibbling at the skin on her neck.

“San, focus!”

She pushed his head away lightly with her shoulder. He nodded and looked at her intently, though she could still see some lust in his eyes.

“I think we should also come up with some sort of schedule over where we sleep if we do want to spend the night with each other. It’s not fair to Yunho or Iseul if we spend most of our time at only one apartment.”

He nodded in agreement, and with that, the conversation ended because San’s hands were roaming underneath her clothes, his hand reaching for her bra clasp while the other was pushing her waistband down. Gyuri squirmed in his embrace as he trailed the tips of his fingers against sensitive parts of her body. Despite him teasing her like this, he didn’t go any further. Her bra remained on, and her waistband hugged her body as it had been. The only reason he didn’t go any further was because he moved her away from his chest. He brought her legs over his before hugging her waist so that they were now facing each other. His nose brushed against hers briefly before he kissed her with intense heat. Gyuri wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him a little closer. San leaned into her so far that he almost pinned her on the couch, but before he could, he stopped because Gyuri ran her fingers through his hair on the back of his head and pulled him back to where he was.

“God, Gyuri,” he stopped kissing her and breathlessly whispered. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I could say the same to you,” Gyuri still had the roots of his hair tight in her grasp.

She pulled his head back and peppered kisses on his neck, her legs straddling him as she pinned him against the couch arm rest. She decided that she wanted to tease him the same way he had by kissing his collarbone and pushing her hand up his shirt. He wrapped his strong arms around her, one hand on her back while the other was around her waist as per usual. He brought her into him even more before suddenly flipping her so that he was the one pinning her down, causing the girl to gasp.

“That was too fucking smooth,” Gyuri told him.

A light blush found its way across his cheeks and nose. She brought her hand up to his face and caressed his cheek as she gazed at him fondly, her eyes straying to his hair. She ran her hands through the hair on the back of his head again, her fingers checking the length of his hair. His root were starting to grow in, and Gyuri loved how it looked so much. The longer she looked at his bleached hair, more ideas popped into her head. He was still above her as her hand made its way back to his face again. She knew that San had his ears pierced, but she studied his face with a small smile on her face. She could tell San was getting a little self conscious, so she voiced her thoughts.

“Have you ever considered getting face piercings?”

“Huh,” San seriously pondered the idea. “I never really thought about it… I guess it depends on my career choice after college. If I do end up wanting to become a lawyer, then maybe a face piercing wouldn’t be the best idea.”

“Ah, you’re right... I just can’t help but think a lip or nose or eyebrow piercing would look insanely hot on you.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of piercings.”

“Could you possibly just humor me?” Gyuri requested. “Could you put in fake piercings? Please?”

“I mean, I guess,” San chuckled.

Gyuri pushed herself up and sat in San’s lap as she traced his eyebrow. She imagined him with the eyebrow piercing and the lip piercing and could feel a fire start within her. She bit her tongue to keep herself from making any noise that would turn him on as he tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her pierced ear lobes.

“What about you? Have you ever thought about getting more than your ears pierced?”

“Maybe… What kind of piercings were you thinking of?”

“…Tongue?”

“Jesus, you kinky bastard,” Gyuri rolled her eyes.

“Or maybe your nipples,” San’s hand neared her breasts.

“That’s even worse! Can’t you think of any normal piercings?”

“Then where would you want to get one?”

Gyuri pondered the thought. She had considered getting a face piercing when she was in high school, but she figured that if she did, her mother would pelt her with fruits. She thought back to what she wanted, though.

“Maybe my septum… or labret.”

“Labret?”

“Yeah, it goes through your lip like this,” Gyuri demonstrated briefly before San’s lips encompassed hers.

As San sucked hard on her lower lip and tugged it upwards, Gyuri dug her nails into his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. San pinned her onto the couch once more, and this time, his hands went further than just briefly touching her bra clasp and moving her waistband. She felt his hand go down the back of her pants and grip her buttock tightly. His fingers successfully unhooked her bra and magically removed her bra from under her shirt— a skill that Gyuri herself didn’t even possess. She couldn’t even express her amazement because his tongue was pushing further into her mouth. She could feel him quietly grunt as his kisses became less intrusive and his hips pressed against hers more. They were so into each other to the point where they didn’t even hear someone unlock the apartment door.

“Hey! Stop that,” someone barked at them.

The two of them turned to see that the people who entered the apartment were luckily the two friends who knew about their relationship: Iseul and Yunho.

“Why? They should continue,” Yunho giggled.

Iseul smacked the back of Yunho’s head before lecturing the two horny young adult on the couch, “You should have gone into a room if you were going to go this far.”

“Should we go to your room then, Iseul?” San asked cheekily.

“Don’t make me hit you, too,” Iseul cracked her knuckles.

“Oh! You could also go to the bathroom!” Yunho exclaimed.

“Shut the fuck up, Yunho! Don’t give them any ideas,” Iseul smacked Yunho’s head once more.

Meanwhile, Gyuri locked eyes with San, the two of them blushing at the exact same time as they remembered being intimate in the bathroom of Iseul’s grandmother’s villa as well as in both bathrooms in both of their apartments. Iseul seemed to have noticed them being coy as she roared, “Oh my God! Did you already fucking do it in the bathroom?!”

“Nice!”

“Shut the fuck up, Yunho!” Yunho’s head faced another smack.

Iseul angrily grabbed San by the collar and dragged him into Gyuri’s room, Gyuri following closely behind. Her roommate threw her boyfriend in her room, and after she had entered her room, the door slammed shut behind them.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, but stay in there and keep it the fuck down!” Iseul yelled.

Footsteps thudded through the apartment before another door slammed shut. Her ear pressed against the door, Gyuri could no longer hear either Iseul or Yunho. She turned around and leaned against the door, San watching intently. She bit her lower lip as she stared at his smolder, heat rampaging through the lower part of her body.

“Fuck…” San groaned as he whispered. “You shouldn’t look at me like that…”

“Why? What are you going to do about it?” Gyuri teased him.

Although she was already pressed up against the door, San pinned her against it and looked down at her hungrily. Gyuri wrapped her arms around him as he lifted her and brought her to the bed, their lips locked in a passionate frenzy.

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