#and already the pits/white spots have started to heal

[magioffire]

i started a little antibiotic regimen for my turtle's shell because it looks like she has the beginnings of shell rot and today her shell looks so much better already

#i scrubbed off the dirt and junk with a soft tooth brush then used betadine and triple antibiotic cream on her shell #and already the pits/white spots have started to heal #ooc. #tbd. #thats what ive been doing instead of writing playing turtle nurse

[peachesofteal]

The Pit

2/2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.7k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dubious consent. Smut - M/M/F. Forced breeding and kink (but we're soft). Medical inaccuracies. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Misery inspired. Horror-ish. Whump. Caretaking. Imprisonment/kidnapping. Forced comfort. Addiction. Feelings of fear, panic, anxiety, hopelessness. Simon calls the shots.

It’s snowing.

The forest floor is covered in thick, white cotton, heavier than cement. It sticks to your clothes, your knees, soaking you to the bone. You slog through the snow; the forest grows longer. Taller. Trunks of trees enclosing you in a cold grave, a cage. 

You have to try. You have to. 

The moon illuminates your path, a swath of silver light refracting through weeping frozen branches, their backs bowed with the heft of the snow, cracking and shivering under their burdens. 

They’ll snap eventually. They’ll break. 

Just like you. 

Wolves howl in the distance. It makes no difference; how close they are. You can’t take much more, newly healed leg already spent, lungs heaving for what little air there is in this elevation. 

They circle. Blood-soaked maws snap at you, herd you closer and closer to the start, to where it all began, to where it continues to begin, again and again. 

The house. 

Your knees find ground. 

You’d rather die now. Freeze in the snow. Or… 

A jaw snaps. You hold out your hands. For freedom. For peace. 

The last thing you see is the flash of pearlescent canine, ripping into your flesh.

“Shhh, jus’ a nightmare.” Simon’s thumb works across your brow, concern shining on his face in the dim lighting. You shiver, even in a room like a sauna.

“Did- did I wake you?” He shakes his head. Of course, you didn’t. He’s always awake. He’s always watching. 

“Close your eyes.” He tucks you close, blazing heat from his massive, pillowy chest bleeding into your back, your ribcage expanding slowly. It’s rhythm, sick, twisted rhythm, syncing you together, your breathing evening out, steadying in his hold. He reaches for Johnny, who’s curled on his side, and strokes through some long, loved pieces of mohawk. Lips muss your hair. “Sleep, little dove.”

The floorboards in the hallway creak.

They talk to you, whisper about comings and goings, each spot singing a specific frequency just so, hitting the right pitch at the right time, a chorus of shifting weight echoed by hackneyed groaning.

The creaking is didactic in nature. It exists to teach you something, to plainly expose the things you should have been paying attention to all along: footsteps in the morning, in the evening, shuffles versus steps. Schedules, routines, things you didn’t pay close enough attention to, things you didn’t care enough to notice, all laid out very carefully in front of you. The weeping wood of the floor practically begged you to notice, but you were too distracted by the never-ending reminders of your agony, and the cups of tea that made you woozy. You were too busy craning your neck to catch a glimpse of the outside world beyond the window, too preoccupied with trying to stand on your own without vomiting all over the floor (again) to catch what the hallway was trying to say.

If you had listened, you would have stood a chance.

“Alright, here we go.” Johnny murmurs, an arm under your knees, another around your back. When he rises, cradling you into his chest like a child, you bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste blood, desperate to tamp down the whimper that breaks free. “I know, I know. Almost there.” He soothes, lowering you to the couch where the pillows are all placed in very specific positions. One of the goes under your calf, another your knee, and they line the sides of your ribs for your arm to rest elevated, comfortably. He cups your cheek, warm thumb gently moving across your skin, sweet, molasses thick affection, like the cough syrup you used to swallow when you were young. “Do ye want some tea?” Yes. God yes, a thousand times yes. Yes, you want the tea. Yes, you want to fall into the bleak darkness of drugged sleep, the vat of unconscious swallowing you whole every time. You want the buzz of numbness, the shadow of an orphic, endless pit. You want to slink away from everything, from them, from whatever this is, from what’s happened to you.

“Yeah, I-“

“Johnny.” Simon says his name softly from the kitchen. “Let’s wait a bit on the tea.” His brow furrows, light venetian blue eyes tracking across your face. They catch the light just so, sparkling downward, sea foam, sea glass and ocean spray, all mixed together into kaleidoscopes spiraling outward from his pupils, and when he frowns, you swear they darken.

“She’s in pain.” He protests, straightening to full height. There’s something happening above your head, something he concedes to with a sigh, shoulders relaxing, a regretful glance cast your way. “I’ll get ye some naproxen, dove.” He promises with a kiss, and then you’re alone in the living room, unable to move, snuggled against the worn leather couch.

Your leg is in a cast. Paper and glue, you think, makeshift at best, and they both remind you of it all the time, how it’s not medical grade, how you can’t attempt to walk on it, how the bone is incredibly fragile, and will be, for a while. It’s in worse shape than your arm, which at least has a black brace on it, covered from elbow to wrist, immobilized with a dull ache, a pain consistently throbbing, but doesn’t make you cry. Not the way your leg does. Your leg screams with agony, still, pins and needles and buzz saws in your bones, a haunting torment keeping you awake at night, making you second guess your desire to live.

The tea helps though. The tea makes everything less, makes the pain round, instead of sharp, makes the fear feel farther away, instead of right on the tip of your tongue, like a monster on your doorstep.

Simon says your name, broad shoulders stationed in front of the fireplace, glass of water in one hand, two pills in another.

“Do you want to sit up?” You blink at him, and he kneels before you can answer, perching right next to your shoulders. “Open.” You give the pills a dubious glare, unsure, lips zipped tight. It could be the naproxen, but it could be something else.

After all, the tea is not just tea.

He sighs in the same exasperated sentiment, and then his thumb and forefinger are grasping your cheeks, cold shiver erupting down your spine at the contact, and he pushes your mouth ajar. “Don’t be like this, sweet girl. Thought you were going to be good today?” He’s referencing something you remember vaguely, a discussion from last night in the dark, a promise you made when the world was coated in sap and too far warm, sticky like the sweat clinging to your neck-

“Ye dinnae need to cry, little dove. Don’ we take such good care of ye?” Johnny cooed, eager. “Ye just need tae be good for us, and we’ll do everything else.” He was holding you tight, too tight against his skin, heat radiating from him like the sun. 

“I don’t understand.” You moaned, unable to move or twist away, trapped in the cage of his arms, Simon sitting prim on the edge of the bed, one hand on your hip. 

“You will, in time. By spring, we hope.” Simon told you, dark sympathy in his eyes, words stretching into a mixed-up sentence jumping around in your mind. By… spring? What does that mean? Johnny’s hands roamed over your skin beneath the blankets, stroking across your breast to delicately pinch at your nipple, before dipping further south, slipping into your folds without warning. 

“Ah!” You gasped, tense, frozen beneath his touch. 

“Shhh.” Simon pats your hip. “Let Johnny put you to sleep, dove. You’ll feel better after a rest.” Johnny’s fingers stuffed in your pussy, thumb dancing across your clit, would lull you into tea addled sleep, and warring emotions swirled in your head. Your desire for this, your acceptance of this, is sick. 

You’re sick. 

You think of the snow. The reflection on the floor in this room, crystallized shimmer on the ceiling. The sun has been out, and you’re dying, wilting, from not feeling it on your face. 

“Tomorrow.” You croak, and Johnny pauses. “Tomorrow can I… can I go outside?” 

“Will you be good?” Simon’s thumb rubs at a spot on the corner of your mouth, and you nod. 

“Yes… I- fuck.” Johnny’s breath hitches, and your walls clench up tight, squeezing. Small explosions of light dance across your eyes, pain mixed with pleasure, peaks and valleys rolling through your muscles. “Fuck.” A big, scorching hand spreads across your lower belly, just beneath your navel, and pushes. 

You come immediately. It’s overwhelming to keep yourself relaxed, to prevent the spike of pain from your injuries, but an orgasm dulls everything else, and you cry with its intensity. 

You’re sick. 

You don’t miss the way Simon’s hand lingers, how his eyes don’t leave that spot, how Johnny’s hand covers his, and they hold there, lost in their own world for a second. 

“If you’re good, sweet girl. We’ll take you outside.” He whispers, arranging limbs and waists and feet to his liking. 

You fall asleep dreaming of a blizzard.

The pills go down so easily.

And you suppose they help. For a while, anyway.

Enough time for Johnny to get you set up on the porch, zipped up in their clothes and propped up on a loveseat rocker.

You wonder if they sit out here in the spring. In the summer. Do they drink their tea and eat their biscuits and watch over their domain like kings? It’s so American, so southern, to envision, and you almost laugh at the idea of either of them swapping their black bitterness for something iced and sweet enough to rot the teeth right out of their head.

“Dove? Can ye look towards me?” Johnny sits half on his knee across from you, on another outdoor, plastic chair. He’s got his sketchbook and pencil in hand, excitement brimming from eyes to lips, like a child. Full of wistful bright light, the sun itself.

Simon’s sun, it would seem. 

You’ve noticed it, how Simon is the earth, but Johnny is the sun. The whole world, revolving around one ball of light, one eager, wild Scot, a star, the only, in Simon’s sky.

He draws you with efficiency. Moving and directing you just so, not daring to jostle you or cause you discomfort, but still ensuring he gets the best light. The barely-there dew drops of dawn. The glisten of a million frozen crystals at your back.  

He handles you like glass. He stares at you like you’re a doll, a fragile one, like you had when you were a girl.

In the quiet moments, which are many, you catch them staring at you. If they’ve brought you down to the living room, they lurk in the kitchen, murmuring to one another in voices too low for you to catch. If you’re in the bedroom, they curl around you like wolf pups, pawing and petting until you’re asleep.

You don’t understand.

They won’t even talk about it with you now. How you came to be here, how they’re insistent you’ll have to stay until spring, when the pass opens.

Their words are a sickness, infecting you, spreading through your system until they’ve touched every piece, inside and out.

It’s madness. The kind of madness that pushed you to the brink already, made you feel like you’re losing touch with reality, with yourself. The kind of insanity that nearly got you killed.

You test the weight. Just barely, just enough that it screams under the pressure. 

If you could make it to the door. 

If you could make it down the hall. 

If you could get out. 

You grit your teeth. 

The house has been silent for hours. No creaking floorboards. No heavy footsteps. You close your eyes, hold your breath, listening one last time. 

They must not be here. 

They go out, every once and a while. Bring things back. You’re not sure where, or how. 

You shuffle a step, dragging your foot. It’s more a hop, but you use the bed to offset the inevitable thump of your body weight, managing to make it to the end, fingers deathly tight on the wrought iron. 

You can do it. You can. 

It’s only three, four hops at most to the door. On one leg, in a weakened state, it’s harder than you thought, but when your fingers lay on the door handle, the release of relief in your chest is overwhelming. 

Yes! Yes. You can do it. Just- 

The knob does not turn. You pull, applying more force, trying to jiggle it, see if maybe it’s stubborn or just old. This cabin is certainly old. Even though it’s been hollowed out anew inside, the bones are ones of a hunting cabin. A long-forgotten place, now housing horrors anew. 

You twist and tug again. Every time it doesn’t budge, you try a little harder, each metallic scrap and jangle louder than fireworks. 

You tug and you fiddle. You close your eyes and push down the rising panic.

The truth comes rushing over you all at once. 

It’s locked. It’s always locked. That’s why Simon ensures it’s shut completely, each time they come and go. 

They never intended to take you home. They never are going to give you your phone, or theirs, they’re never going to get you back over the pass. 

You’re locked in here. With them. 

The tugging becomes something else, something wired and frenetic, until you’re jerking the door handle with all your might, shaking the frame, screaming. The motion destabilizes you, and your lack of strength does you no favors. 

Before you can self-correct, you stumble. You fall, instinct forcing your bad leg down, and when you try to catch yourself, you howl so loud you think the mountain shakes. 

Your head smacks the frame of the bed on your way down, and then… as always now, everything is dark. 

The first time you open your eyes after, Simon is seated in the chair. The same one he was in when they brought you here, severe and terrifying. The room is spinning, and you’re just as nauseous as the first day you laid eyes on him.

“I- I’m sorry.” You croak, but he only shakes his head, rising from his seat without even giving you a second look. 

For a fleeting moment, the indifference stings. 

“You’ll wear that,” he motions to your foot from the end of the bed, the good one, and you peek down to see a metal shackle clamped around your ankle. “until you can be trusted again.” 

Johnny crawls into bed with you at night. He cries, hot tears on his cheeks, and coos over the leg with the break in it, and then over the shackle. 

“I told him, ye dinnae mean to be bad.” His fingers shake as he traces your cheek. “Ye just cannae help it. It’s not yer fault, I know dove. Ye dinnae know any better. We have to teach you.” 

“Johnny-“ Please. Let me go. Help me. 

They all die in your throat when he presses his wet face to your neck like a dog, rutting his hard cock into your hip.“Ye’ll be right as rain by spring, I told him. Gon’ be such a good mum for the bairn, I know ye will.” 

The world fades away. The silence suffocates, and you pray to die. 

You cry the rest of the night, even when he shucks your pants down and licks your pussy until you’re coming on his tongue. You cry until he falls asleep, and Simon returns, settling in his seat, watching you both. 

“How do ye feel about chicken soup tonight?” Johnny draws you back to him, sweet boy smile on his face, and your stomach clenches involuntarily.

Stupid handsome Scot. 

You’re sick. 

“That’s fine.”

“But do ye like it?” He’s so eager, back straightening with interest, really trying to learn, trying to figure out what you like and dislike, what will earn him your good graces, and what won’t.

You shrug. “Sure, it’s… it’s good.” A thought occurs to you. “Where do you get the chicken?”

“We’ve got ‘em in the barn. Can’t roam in the winter but we keep ‘em warm in there. Along with some ducks. A goat.”

“Farm animals?” “Aye. How else we supposed to make sure you’re healthy?” He waggles his eyebrows. You try not to grimace. “Si slaughters ‘em fresh. Everything tastes better that way.” A soft light shines in his eyes, a wolf’s instinct, and the shudder trembling down your spine makes your hands shake. “Ye cold?” He clocks it immediately, as he he does with every other single thing.

When he gathers you into his arms to bring you inside, tucking you back into the couch, you don’t even argue. You just sit there. Like a doll. Theirs.

Night is the easiest. It’s simple, to give in to your body, let them take over, take control of the parts that have long betrayed you. You close your eyes as they touch you, kiss you, make you come.

You even enjoy it. 

That’s the worst part. You like it, when there are hands and fingers and tongues all over your body, like you’re being worshipped, like you’re some sort of god.

You like it, when Johnny gets overexcited and Simon settles him, guides him with a hand on his cock to your entrance, whispering slow in his ear, encouraging him to take his time. You like it, when Johnny’s pulse flutters under his jaw, when Simon holds you steady, when they get lost in each other, in you- you can almost pretend it’s not real, it's some fantasy, from a book, something dark and delicious-

Not your reality.

Tonight, Simon holds you in his lap on the edge of the bed, broken leg lying flat, his elbow crooked under your good knee and wrenched upwards, nearly pressing against your chest. The angle is intense, and Johnny grunts, muscles flexing with every thrust,

“Ah- fuck.” You moan and twitch, locked inside a cage, a confinement, the arms of your captors… your saviors. Simon swirls the pad of a finger over your clit, mouth open on your cheek, teeth nipping over your skin. You clench, Johnny cursing, some bitten off dialect you’re not familiar with, Simon’s voice dripping with smirk.

“Good girl, squeeze our boy, jus’ like that.” He does it on purpose, the talking. Knows how it makes you gush, long ago figured out the way to make your pussy clamp down around whatever he’s got worked inside you, his cock, Johnny’s, fingers, tongues.

Together, you’re an orchestra. Johnny is the strings, the violin, the viola, a cello. He plucks so perfectly, a harmonious blend of beauty spills from his bow, rising in the air until the audience is on their feet. His music trembles. It quivers and cries, like the wail of grief.

Your grief.

You’re the piano. An entire world, nestled in one instrument, but you play off tune, broken and sharp, pitch all a mess- you don’t even belong here.

Simon is the maestro. He directs each note, each melodious ring exactly as he wants it, working the music up to a brilliant crescendo, and it comes crashing like the force of a wave breaking onto sand. He conducts you, Johnny, the day, and night. He orchestrates the flow, lyrical give and take evolving in the house, your captor status slipping farther and farther away each night you take them into your body.

He knows you like it. Knows he’s in the lead, knows they’re winning-

And he doesn’t let up.

“Harder.” He coaches, and Johnny obliges, mouth open in bliss, eyes nearly rolled backwards. His fingers clamp down on your hip, too close, and you hiss in fear, the preparation of pain.

Simon snarls, yanking it away, holding to him tight before discarding it in exchange for the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” Johnny pants. “Sorry, dove.” You want to tell him to fuck off, to tell him you hate them, you hate them both, but you're only able to give them a high pitched moan of pleasure. “I’m gon’ come.” He grunts, and Simon yanks him forward, lips smashing together, tongue snaking messily between teeth.

For too long, the three of you hold fast. Johnny’s reckless, furious thrusts shove you backwards, over and over again. “Pull out.” Simon commands, flat palm on his chest. “Do not, Johnny.” He pushes him away from you like a dog, shoving him backwards with a firm forearm, a piece of rebar turned flesh.

He comes all over your belly, splashing thick white splatter across the mound of your cunt, up past your navel, choking on gasps of breath as Simon heaps praise onto the two of you.

Later, after they’ve bathed you, given you another orgasm, and all are almost tucked in, you whisper in the flickering fire light.

“Can I… can I have some tea?” Simon starts. It’s small, barely visible, but you feel it, in your bones. The echo of him in the room.

He holds your head between two palms, and you wonder if he’ll crush your skull. Decide it was all too much trouble. You’re too sick, feeble in your mind, too weak to survive.

“To sleep?” He asks softly, eyes darting over your shoulder for a split second, heavy with worry.

“Please?” There’s something in his eyes you don’t understand, a whirling mist of hell and desperation, and then it clears, and he motions a go ahead to Johnny.

“Alright, dove.”

The tea settles you into silence. With it, you can exist. You can survive.

It numbs you from the inside out, and as time passes, you feel no pain. You’re tangled in a dark web, a viscous manner of thing weighing you down from all angles. You feel nothing, and days turn to weeks, weeks to a month. Soon, the world is thawing. Snow melt turns to river and mud, greenery fighting for its chance to sprout and survive. Your leg is healing.

Spring comes. 

The day you roast a chicken is the day your life ends, for good.

It’s domestic, the act. An olive branch to Simon, who’s angry with you, again. Who’s frustrated, took himself outside to chop wood.

Johnny mopes inside the house.

“I hate it when the two of ye fight.”

“Well, if he wasn’t such a stubborn asshole.” You hold the wooden spoon like a wand before returning it to the cast iron, swirling it around in the mess of butter and onion. “Then there wouldn’t be an issue.” You swallow the sting of his earlier refusal. The quick rejection of your request.

All you wanted was to go on a walk. It’s a beautiful day. 

Why must the leash be so tight? 

“He’ll be happy ye’re cookin’ again.” Johnny grins wide, pretty face beaming over the counter, and you sigh.

Maybe. 

You’re watching out the window when Johnny approaches him in the yard. You can’t make out anything their saying, but the body language paints enough of a picture.

Johnny is rigid, angry.

Simon is calm, placating.

Words are exchanged, brows shifting with sympathy, sweetness.

Johnny erupts with glee. He shines like the sun, and Simon smiles, a real, true smile.

They’re beautiful.

And you’re sick. 

The three of you tangle together in the dark. It’s a sailor’s knot, thrice over, difficult to understand which piece is which, where one begins and the other ends.

Simon’s anger is long melted. A glacier, gone leaving only a gash in the rock behind.

It’s this gash, this quiet undercurrent, keeping you focused on the wrong thing, pliable in bed until you realize Johnny is murmuring something in your ear, two arms banded around your waist from where you lay on your back, atop his chest.

“We cannae wait,” His hand strokes over your belly with reverence. The words cut through the thick, heady haze, and you try to twist to look at him. “watch ye get big with our bairn, goin’ be such a good mum.”

“Wh-what?” you choke, tensing. They try to settle you, sweet words and mouths everywhere, but you cannot get away from the fear.

From them.

“You- ahh.” You’re on fire, a finger rubbing your clit, Simon’s width between your thighs. He spears you open on his cock, unrelenting, making you keen and cry, face wet with tears.

“Waited long enough,” He grunts. “Been wastin’ it for months.” He steals your whimpers, swallows them, takes them inside like you take him, like you’ll take him-

“- until you swell. Until you’re heavy, dove, round with us.”

Until you’re forever theirs.

It’s a snarled promise. A prayer. Your eyes find the ceiling, fire flickering in shadow across old texture, and you breathe.

He shoves your knees towards your chest, Johnny still lock tight around your ribs, tongue in the shell of your ear.

“Need to be still, cannae lose a single drop." His palm is searing beneath your navel, and he's practically singing, vibrating. “We love ye so much.”

They’re conducting Beethoven. Ode to Joy.

You’re playing Bach. Come, Sweet Death.

Simon comes in you for the first time, and you come too, clenching down around his cock as he praises you, holding onto him like you can’t let go. Like your body knows. Like you’re craving it.

“Good girl.” He croons, spooning whatever slips free back inside, shoving it deep, wet lips on your own. “Gotta keep me in, dove… jus’ like that, there you go.” You throb, squeezing again, pulsing for him. For the words.

You’re sick. 

When they switch positions, and Johnny smiles at you over your knees, his canines shine nearly red in the fire light. Two predators, one prey. 

Your heart cannot help but flutter.

Sick. 

Eight months prior: 

The bar is packed. Summer music festival, the banners say. The park is thriving, alive with melody, musical acts rotating on and off the stage, children running amuck with candies and balloons, families relaxing in lawn chairs.

An Americana tradition. 

They sat there themselves, for a while. Watching. Burning desire growing hot under his collar every time he saw a mum and her bairn, a small, precious thing cradled close to a chest, an overexcited five-year-old having a catch with his Da.

Eventually, they retreated to the darkness, hiding away in the one bar in town, it’s small windows and dim light practically a calling card.

And what they found inside, well... 

“Hey, what can I get you?” You’re perfect. Sweet and soft, like a dove. Kind faced; kind spoken. You make Johnny’s cock twitch just looking at you, and he pictures you on your back, legs spread wide, exposed for them to feast on. To fill. He can’t wait to taste you, hold you, kiss you, have all his firsts with you.

Will you fight them? Will you squirm? No, you'll be good. You'll be so good for them, their perfect, sweet girl. He knows it. 

How did they get so lucky?

Simon tucks his ballcap lower.

“Sorry, there are a million people in here!” You half shout over the raucous noise. “You’ll have to speak up!”

“Just two beers.” His yank accent needs work, but it does fine when there’s one hundred other faces next to his. A sea of forgettable memories.

Just as intended.

Your fingers brush his when you deposit two drafts on the bar top, shooting off a total, and for a lingering second, he stares at you.

Simon caresses the back of his neck, thumb circling a loving touch into his skin.

A warning. A reminder.

Can’t make ourselves stand out. Cannot be remembered. 

Johnny peeks at the name tag pinned above your breast, and files it away. Files everything away as they finish their pints, how you scrutinize the crowd, how you’re constantly working, looking for things to do, cleaning. Taking care of everything. The people at the bar, your coworkers.

His heart overflows with love. With warmth, and when they take their leave, he can’t help but look back one more, catching a glimpse of your profile, singing a silent goodbye.

See you soon, dove. 

#peaches writes #the pit #ghoap x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish

[imaginativeamateur]

Hey! Congrats on 200 followers! 🎊 you totally deserve it!! I was wondering if you could do a kakashi x fem!reader with 6 in which the reader is a med ninja and are overworking! THANK YOU!!!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] A Medic's Greatest Fear

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 6 — "You’re not coming home tonight?"

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Hello, I'm back after quite a few days being so inactive :DD Thanks for your request, love. I legit spent so much time... changing the plot :DD This version is very different from the first one that I wrote lol. It's a bit angsty but ends with a fluff note, though. Hope you'll enjoy!

You have been busying yourself with operation after operation. You were not in a good mood recently after you got into a fight with Kakashi, and he then left for a mission. Time fleeted, and the next time you glanced at the clock, it was already eight in the evening. Just when you were packing up to leave the hospital at the end of your shift, a nurse rushed to your office with a bewildered expression on her face.

“Y/N-san,” she stopped to catch a breath, “there are three injured Shinobi.”

“ANBU?” You questioned, immediately dropping your tote to the desk.

“It’s… you should go see for yourself,” she stammered out. There was hesitation in her voice as she spoke, and you felt uneasiness seeping into the pit of your stomach.

You rushed to the reception and spotted a sight that you never wanted to see. Your heart throbbed as the hospital staff rolled a silver-haired onto a stretcher and pushed him into the operation unit. You lost the balance on your feet, if it was not for the nurse to help you stabilize your stance, you would have fallen onto the ground. There was only one person that you could recall having the very hair color in the whole Konoha—Kakashi Hatake.

“What happened?” Your voice was hoarse as you tumbled to the reception table.

“They were ambushed,” the staff stated with a monotone and started to register their information on the computer, “Hatake’s injuries, though, are more serious.”

“Who are on call right now?”

The woman at the desk took a glance at you, quietly signaling you to calm down before she continued to speak, “One surgeon and one assistant as for Hatake. Two Medics are tending the other three.”

Your stomach flipped, “I’m going in with them.”

You spared not even a second after you gave her a verbal note to follow their trail. You bit down on your lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing your love edging on the thin line between life and death brought tears to your eyes. You greatly regretted the venomous words you exchanged with him before Kakashi left for his mission. You did not mean them to the slightest degree, you did not mean to tell him to stop interfering with your business, you did not mean to call him intrusive and that you hated him for being like that. The silver-haired stopped quarreling almost immediately after you lashed out and closed the door behind his back. You could clearly visualize the distress and sorrow wavering in his eyes when he left, so clearly that it stabbed you in the heart. If only you could go back to that very day…

For the whole duration of the operation, you focused every single cell of your body on the task, straining every muscle to perform meticulous work. But you did not dare to look up at his face. A cursory glance already enabled you to see how pale his skin was. The thin layer of sweat that coated his forehead shook you to the core that you had to instantly glance away. Kakashi was in pain, and you knew that better than anyone, being the person invading his system with your own chakra to heal the damaged organs. The wounds littered across his body were deep cuts, and you winced as your palms moved across his battered body.

At last, it was finally over and he was now bandaged in white cloth, sleeping soundly on the bed. Fearing that the stiff hospital bed would tire his back, you went ahead and took off your sweater and laid an extra layer for him to lie on, leaving you in your thin blouse. It was the end of autumn in Konoha and nights were cooler, but you paid no mind to the skin of your forearms prickling with goosebumps when you moved to close the window. All of your attention was now focused on the resting Shinobi, watching his chest rising and falling with every breath, his brows forming the slightest pinch in his sleep.

You drifted your gaze farther away, thinking of what to say once he would be up. Just then, you head Kakashi mumble, “You’re not coming home tonight?”

You quickly directed your eyes back to check on him, but the silver-haired was still snoring softly under the blanket—he worried about you even when he just merely got his life back from the hands of Hades. And it made you even more upset with yourself. You were totally at fault. He was only concerned about you and your health when you were working days straight without rest at the hospital. He respected your work but was more or less disagreed with how careless you were with your own wellbeing.

With great attention, you reached both hands out toward him and glided your fingers across his cheeks, blinking furiously to prevent tears from strolling down your face. You gently placed a kiss on the shallow crease between his brows as though you were trying to alleviate the pain that he was enduring, “I’m sorry, Kashi. I’m sorry.”

You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was an assurance that he was cradling you to bed like every night. Shuddering, you shifted closer to his body to shield yourself away from the blows that managed to seep through the crack between the door and the freezing tiles. Nights at the hospital were always cold with you drifting in and out of sleep in between calls to duty. But tonight was different when he was with you, you felt at peace.

The morning came and Kakashi was wide awake before the first rays even shone through the glass window. But he did not move a muscle, letting you splay your hands across his chest and hug him with all you might. A frown sat on his lips when he noticed the eyebags underneath your heavily closed lids. Your breathing was ragged as your lips opened and sealed several times, mouthing broken sobs of his name. Kakashi slightly shook your shoulders and you shot up from your position, eyes wide after pulling yourself out of the terrifying nightmare.

“Kakashi,” you burst out and jumped out of the wooden chair, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Kakashi!”

“I’m alright, Y/N,” he embraced you and swayed your bodies back and forth, “I’m here.”

After a while, you pulled away, timidly gazing at your hands like a child at fault, “I’m sorry for the stupid argument. I was wrong for saying such things. I promise not to overwork myself again.”

“I’m sorry too, love,” he stroked your hair, “I shouldn’t raise my voice at you. You know I love you, right? That’s why I didn’t want to see you harming yourself in the first place. It’s necessary to take a break when you’re tired. And just know that I’m always here for you.”

------------------

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @rinnegankakashi @tirzamisu

#kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi x you #hatake kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hatake imagine #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #hatake kakashi x y/n #naruto x reader #naruto imagines

[dccomicsimagines]

It’s Your Birthday? - Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by Anon - Can I have a male!reader x Jason Todd where Jason discovers it’s the reader’s birthday and does something special for them?

***

Jason groaned deeply when the sunlight shined through the window next to the bed and beamed into his face. His hand left the warm body it rested on to flop over his eyes. “We should have gotten a room on the other side of the hotel,” he mumbled.

All he got was a hum as a response. He sat up and squinted his eyes open to see you mostly still asleep on your side with a sheet resting just over your hips. His eyes caught the healing stab wound in your side. Rage filled him, remembering how he beat Brutale almost to death when he saw that knife sink into you. Jason swallowed hard and pushed the rage away. It wasn’t him, it was just the pit in him talking.

Jason convinced you to join him on a short vacation. You both hopped in the car and drove until you were too tired to go on. Jason stopped at a cheap motel and happily rocked your world after hours of you teasing him. 

Jason stretched his arms before rolling out of bed and onto his feet. His naked body shivered from the chill of the morning air. He moaned, moving to the window to see wide open fields and a few cars at the restaurant across the street.  

“At least we can get breakfast in this place,” he mumbled, looking back at you. You rolled over onto your back. He saw the steady rise and fall of your chest. “Or I’ll get breakfast for us.” 

Jason shut the curtains and turned to see clothes thrown around the room. He chuckled, remembering how eager you both were the moment you entered the room. He picked up his shirt and slipped it on. As he looked for his jeans, he found yours and accidently dropped your wallet onto the floor. 

Your wallet was worn with a Star Wars symbol on the corner of it. He picked it up and opened it. There was a picture Lian drew folded up in one of the credit card pockets. He checked out your ID, smiling at the photo of you at least a few years old. His eyes caught your date of birth.

His heart stopped. He turned and stumbled to the bedside table for his phone. His knees gave out when he saw the date on his phone matched the date on your ID. “It’s your birthday?” Jason whispered to himself, staring at you in awe. 

You mumbled in your sleep and rolling over again to snuggle into your pillow. Jason swallowed hard. He had known you for years, but he had never known your birthday. His heart dropped to his stomach as he ran a hand through his bed hair. You always remembered his birthday. He still had the ‘Fuck Batman’ mug you gave him last year. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He got to his feet and leaned over to kiss the top of your head. You didn’t react at all, too deeply asleep. “I’m going to make it up to you.” Jason sighed before turning to find his jeans to get started getting what he needed.

***

You wrinkled your nose when the smell of bacon, eggs, and hash browns wafted in the air. Sleep faded from your body as you sat up and stretched. Your body felt sore, but good from the activities of the night before. You smiled, finally opening your eyes to see Jason at the foot of the bed with a to-go container of breakfast. He was waving his hand to send the smell to you. 

“Wow, what a wake-up call?” You smirked at him, taking in the love in his eyes. There was a hint of nervousness in his stance. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He handed you the container before jumping on the bed next to you with his own container. “This was all the restaurant had.”

You laughed, taking a deep breath. It was greasy heaven. “I don’t mind. Honestly, this is the best kind of food.” You dug in once Jason handed you a fork. 

“I looked around and there’s a few things to see. Apparently, we can ride horses nearby.” Jason side-eyed you. You looked back at him curiously.

“That’s cool. I always wanted to learn how to ride a horse. You know, in case we get transported to the wild west or something.” You nudged his side as you kept eating. The food hit the right spot. Your heart felt so full. 

“Good.” Jason bit his lip. You noticed then he hadn’t touched his food.

Your food suddenly didn’t look so great. “Okay, what’s wrong with you?” You left your food on your lap and crossed your arms. Jason fidgeted under your gaze. 

“Nothing.” Jason shrugged, not meeting your eye. You shook your head.

“Come on, Jay. I know something’s wrong. What? Did Bruce call you?” You put your hands behind your head, flexing your muscles. Jason eyed your arms. A blush came to his cheeks. 

Jason sighed deeply. “No, it’s not that.” He set his container aside and got to his feet. You raised an eyebrow when he went over to the dresser. He dug around in the plastic bag sitting on top, blocking your view with his back. 

You frowned, stealing a piece of his bacon since you finished yours. “Then what is it, Jay?” You swallowed hard. “Was last night not good for you?” 

“What?” Jason spun around, wide eyed. “No, last night was amazing as always.” You caught what looked like a candle behind him. Jason quickly leaned over to block your view. “(Y/N), close your eyes.”

You smirked and obeyed. “Are we doing the naked game again?”

Jason snorted. “I made it up once when I was drunk and you can’t let it go.” 

“How could I let it go? We get naked and try to identify body parts by only touch.” You laughed, leaning back against the pillows. “You thought my balls were my ass.”

“I was drunk, okay? Like Roy always says I’m dumb when I drink.” The bed sank beside you and you caught a whiff of smoke. You frowned slightly. Did Jay start smoking again? You didn’t think he would tell you to close your eyes for that, would he? Maybe Jason was drunk already.

The smoke was in front of you now. You opened your eyes, slightly alarmed only to gasp when you saw Jason holding a Little Debbie white cake in his hand with a single lit candle in it. “What?” You looked at Jason, confused beyond belief.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Jason leaned over and kissed your cheek. “I would have gotten you a real cake, but this is all they had at the gas station across town. The restaurant only had muffins and you’re better than that.” 

“Jason, baby.” You blinked, chuckling in surprise. “You’ve never remembered my birthday.”

“Well, I did this year.” Jason smirked, chest puffed out with pride. “You gonna make a wish? The cake is melting in my hand.” The white cake was giving out under the heat of the candle. You shook your head and blew out the candle after a moment of thought. 

Jason took out the candle and held the cake to your lips. You took a bite, savoring the cheap, sugary taste. “What did you wish for?” Jason asked, his eyes shined with love. You leaned up to kiss him. He moaned when your hand buried itself in his hair and tugged softly. 

“I can’t say or it won’t come true.” You winked as you pulled away. “But thank you, Jay. I honestly forgot it was my birthday until I saw the cake with the candle.” 

“So how about we finish here, then go horseback riding and after you and I can ride each other?” Jason touched his nose to yours. “Maybe get some more food later?”

You hummed, leaning forward to kiss his lips again. “You’re always thinking of food, Jay.”

“Not always.” His hand slipped beneath the sheet to rest on your thigh. You shivered, excitement stirring in your gut. “Guess what I’m thinking now.”

“I think I know.” You grabbed Jason by the front of his shirt and pushed him down on to the bed, so you could crawl on top of him. The food containers were kicked off the bed. Food went everywhere, but Jason and you didn’t care.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #malereader #male reader #jason todd x malereader

[flowerwrites06]

utopic desire I — jjk

Plot: Under an elist system of Vampires, Jungkook is torn between his old values and the lowest ranked Vampire he begins to fall for.

Pairing(s): Vampire!Jungkook x Vampire!OC

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Series

Genre: Supernatural/Vampires | Angst/Fluff/Smut

Tags & Warnings: discrimination, explicit smut, angst, coarse language.

Authors Note: this is a repost after my break since I’m not really going to convert this one to original fiction. So enjoy to those who missed it! I’m doing it in parts cause posting big posts on Tumblr sucks. 

“Glasses, five o’clock.” Yoongi muttered mostly under his breath but enough for the group to hear before taking a small sip of his reddened whiskey.

Belle felt a light rumble in her belly at his words, turning her head a little to see the male sitting quietly at the bar counter. Blue sweater with some light wash jeans, thin rimmed glasses and slightly long messy locks hovering over his temples. The tiny pout on his bottom lip only added to what an adorable specimen he was. “Jeon?” She smirked.

Yoongi shrugged mimicking the little curl on her lips as his eyes flickered to the side to get another look of him. “Hangs around with the pure bloods a lot. Must be a favourite source.”

Jungkook was the quietest whenever Belle noticed him in the pure blood crowds and with the way he held himself, it didn’t seem like he was much of a power in the group. One of the vampires who she knew was called Vira always clung to him which she could only assume meant he must have been her human.

“Could be fun annoying the shit out of Vira.” Belle mused.

“Or dangerous.” Jimin spoke up, finger tracing the brim of his glass with the drink barely sipped on. “Pure bloods don’t like us meddling.”

“They don’t like it when I meddle.” She corrected.

Pure bloods had no issue with other pure blood vampires. Even Taehyung, they tolerated despite their dated views on humans. With her though, a spawn of an original vampire and a human was downright blasphemy in their eyes. Belle still wondered to this day why Jimin, Yoongi or even Kiku thought about including her into their group, tainting their name in the academy.

Yoongi nudged Jimin’s arm harshly. “For a Park, you’re a real buzzkill, you know that?”

Jimin rolled his eyes in response, raking through his blue hair before murmuring a small apology towards Belle.

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“What’re you willing to give me when I get him?” Belle leaned in, elbows rested on the surface.

A smirk plastered across the man’s lips. “If you get him to sleep with you, I’ll give you my Lamborghini.”

Belle scoffed. “Which one?”

“The Centenario.”

“Nah—I want the Veneno.”

“If you were less hot maybe but everyone wants you so…the Centenario.”

“Oh come on—”

“If it helps I’m pretty sure Yoongi came on one of the Veneno seats one time.” Kiku spoke gesturing a toothpick towards Yoongi who stammered a little.

Belle grimaced lightly. “Fine, the Centenario.”

“That’s only cause someone decided for the first time they weren’t going to swallow.”

“You literally begged me to let you come all over my face.” Kiku parted her lips in slight offense while Yoongi shifted in his seat.

“Okay now I’m really going to go.” Belle chuckled climbing off the stool and fixing her deep red, ruche dress fitted to her curves before walking to the bar counter.

Jungkook still had his eyes fixated on his drink taking one sip almost every hour while he was somehow deep in thought. Though as he noticed a figure walking his way, his head shot meeting two beetle orbs with shining ruby flecks scattered across. It glimmered in the night light resembling a dark faery of some sort though he knew she was no faery.

“Do you always sit around alone in the college bars?” Belle asked sitting down on the stool next to him, ignoring how her dress rode up her thighs when she did.

Gaze flickered down to the heavily exposed skin, body exuding a thick, warm scent flooding his nostrils and filling his lungs. Jungkook felt his head spin from the sweetness but found himself taking more in anyway. “I don’t like a whole lot of company.” He mumbled.

“Do I count as a whole lot of company?”

“Not really.”

Belle smiled, that tiny spark of accomplishment lingering in the pit of her belly but she knew not to get too excited. “I don’t like much company either.”

“You seem to have a few friends.”

“And I love them.” She nodded. “But I also love...more intimate company.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched briefly as he gripped onto the glass a little tightly. He watched her move forward with her arms folded under her chest, making them pop beautifully in the dim lighting. “What kind of intimate company?”

“Just two people. Me and them. Taking a walk, going to eat, having sex…” Belle let a small moment of silence linger between the two people before shrugging. “Intimate moments where it’s only between the two of you.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a little tingle. How it was easy to just fall into her careful words and drown in her whole aura. “Do you get to do it a lot?”

The corner of her lips curled up a little. “I haven’t for a while.”

“That’s not good.” The scent grew thicker around him again and Jungkook sought it as a good sign enough to shift closer. A layer of ice melting between them with a new brewing heat.

She hummed sadly.

“How much did he bet?”

Belle peered up at him curiously, tilting her head. It didn’t really matter whether Jungkook knew it was a bet or not at this point. She already had him close enough. “A Lamborghini Centenario.” She smiled.

Jungkook raised a brow tempted to glance over at her group but he stopped himself. Not that it was too difficult when he started unintentionally counting the little ruby flecks in her eyes. “High price for little old me.” His voice descended into a darker register as he leaned closer, feeling a strange heat radiate from her skin. “You sure you want to take it?”

“Depends…how little are you?” Belle’s eyes flickered down his body momentarily.

He chuckled, licking the inside of his cheek as he glanced down at his drink. Now more than ever in this entire night, Jungkook lost full interest of filling himself up with alcohol that won’t even intoxicate him. He needed something sweeter. “Well I can’t confirm anything to you here.”

-

Hunger never tugged any stronger than a bad cramp with Belle. She found decent satisfaction in food but it was almost like strong, uncontrollable cravings when her body wanted to feed properly. A type of craving that needed to be satisfied for her own health and wellbeing. While Belle could take it more than any other vampire, refusing to take blood could still kill her just as easily.

Jungkook’s hunger was a basic need. His hunger panged and pulled at his gut, spread exhaustion through his limbs, head spinning uncomfortably. The last time he fed was on one of the history students in his group project. It was consensual but he couldn’t take much before the boy fainted. There was something different pumping through Belle’s veins, radiating with so much warmth and smelling so sweet that he made him a little dizzy.

Public bathrooms were not an ideal place for a feed but the dark purple walls and black marble floors allowed for less traces and easy clean ups. Door clicked as it locked. All Belle did was turn around before her whole body was engulfed with another, lips locked with his as he pinned her against the door. It was icy at first until it started meshing in with her own warmth allowing her to melt into it.

Somewhere deep in the thick lake of his thirst, Jungkook knew he should stop and go back to the bar to prevent any issues. If anyone found out who he was with in the bathroom stalls, they would give him hell beyond belief. But the thought drowned as quickly as he grabbed onto her hips and moved them to the sink counter.

Jungkook whipped her around until she bent over the marble counter a little, a smile curling at her reddening smudged lips. Looking into the mirror Belle admired the way his forehead knitted when she felt her dress push up to her hips. He brushed away her long hair to expose her shoulder and the crook of her neck.

Leaning in, he pressed wet kisses along her shoulder while his hips harboring a mind of its own ground against her plump bottom. His gut gripped at whatever satisfaction he could get from her smell. That thickly sweet smell just calling out to him. How was it possible? She wasn’t supposed to smell this warm. He wasn’t supposed to feel this hungry tasting her skin.

Belle tilted her head to give him more room waiting for him to get as riled up as possible before she took her own feeding. His large palms exploring every inch of her body, reaching up to her breasts and kneading them to light squeeze before trailing down her hips again.

Tongue traced across one particular spot, soft and sensitive. Fingers gripped at the roots of her hair to expose more skin before his fangs bared, white shining in the light before it sunk in. His whole body trembled in glee. The burst of warmth trailing down his throat, tasting so fucking delicious on his tongue that he kept taking in more. Jungkook moaned against her skin, one palm moving between her legs as he rubbed himself on her curve.

Her first instinct was to protest when Belle felt an intrusion on her skin. She held onto the edge of the counter so tightly that one of her nails could have cracked off. Except the words died on her tongue and the only sounds forming out of her were whimpers…pleased whimpers. The warmth that exploded through her was so thrilling, so intoxicating that her knees began to wobble.

Jungkook could feel himself getting full right to the very limit but he still took more. A slight tinge of concern sparked inside him. He was taking too much. Forcefully he pulled away and pressed his tongue against the injury to heal it quickly before taking deep breaths like they had already done the deed. He usually was really good at holding back. What was wrong with him?

“You’re a fucking trickster.” Belle breathed out with a light giggle. She really should be mad but her body felt far too satisfied to be angry. Though she still felt something stiff rubbing against her. With a cheeky smile, she swayed her hips against his causing the vampire to hiss and grab onto her.

“You wanted to do the same to me.” Jungkook spoke in a low growl, his eyes flashing back to his original red except it darkened in seconds with his ever growing lust.

“Except I can’t, can I?” Belle mumbled a little lazily, allowing him to dig his nails as much as he wanted into her skin but she still wasn’t going to stay put.

Jungkook buried his fingers through her hair and gently pulled her back so he pressed right against his torso. “You can’t tell anyone about this…” He whispered in her ear, lips brushing against her soft earlobe. “And you’ll still get your Lamborghini.”

Belle had it coming. The secret promise. Every pure blood or turned vampire asked her the same thing right when their moment of clarity passed through them after a night of heated movements and sinful noises.

‘ Don’t tell anyone I touched you. ’

‘ No one can know we were together. ’

She was never allowed to speak a word but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear them jabbering how the failed breedling begged for it with their other friends. “I promise.” She muttered like a familiar song.

Jungkook searched her eyes for a moment, the ruby flecks losing their usual twinkle when she spoke those two small words. His expression softened, grip on her hair loosening before moving his hand down to fix her dress gently as if it could somehow cushion on a blow he didn’t know he caused. But it was there. He could feel the way her skin chilled slightly disallowing him to melt into her again.

Before he could truly understand what that feeling was, Belle shifted away from his hold a little, setting up her hair again in the mirror. Not a single confused twitch on her features.

Then why was he confused?

He was the one who asked to keep it a secret so that was it. It would be selfish to expect some kind of argument when there was no way around the matter.

“I’ll have to go first.” Belle broke through the momentary silence. “Yoongi won’t believe something happened if you went out before me.”

“Why not?”

Another grin tugged at her lips even though the flecks were still dull and unexcited. “I usually tire out the ones I’m with. They have to take a break or at least look really out of it afterwards.” Belle walked over to him and patted his cheek.

Jungkook scoffed lightly though a little relieved he caught the tiniest cheeky glint before she walked out of the bathroom.

-

Two mornings passed and it left the pure blood emptier than he wanted to admit. Jungkook opted to take this particular dawn to cage himself in the gym for a few hours before classes started rolling. It was the best time when the whole building was empty save for the security guards. Eventually when he tired himself out enough not to think about those ruby flecks again and have the smell of sweat instead of that sweet, warm aroma, he started preparing for the library.

Apparently Vira and a couple of others wanted to get some readings done and it was getting too sunny outside for their liking.

The academy library was vast filled with books ancient to modern adorning shelves so much taller than him he could barely see the top. Jungkook had a simple black long sleeves draped on him as he walked over to the corner table and found Vira with an empty seat to her.

Deep red lips curled up into wide grin as she patted the seat and the male didn’t really respond much before doing as she silently asked.

Jungkook never found a whole lot of interest in the conversations his group mumbled towards each other and simply opened his books to skim through readings like he thought they were supposed to do. Though even with their words tuned out a little, his eyes still flickered up to scan the shelves, a few of the tables with quiet students curling on themselves. Except one figure glowed so bright near a few tables forward.

Her hair was not as black as he imagined it was in the bar lighting. It was almost a chocolate brown, a little messy and wavy with a small clip loosely placing back on side of it. Lips in a lighter pink tinge while wearing lilac thin sleeve dress with small peach flowers scattered across from what he could catch. Jungkooks’ lips twitched a little seeing her smile so easily with such a genuine aura when a blond haired girl next to her muttered something between them.

“Kook.”

He felt a harsh nudge on his arm causing him to shake back into reality and look over at Vira again. “What?”

“We saw you sneaking in with a certain someone back at the party.” One of the other pure blood vampires, Hoseok spoke with a wide smirk tugging at his lips. “The failed breedling.”

“I thought we called her a failed experiment.” Vira commented with a ghost of a smile over to Hoseok who chuckled in response. “Some kind of deformed rat in the lab.”

Jungkook curled his fingers against the table trying to kill the words that were desperately attempting to escape through him. “She’s definitely not deformed. I mean…we’ve seen Doyoung’s nose.”

A turned vampire, Doyoung shot a glare at the male while the rest of the group laughed in full agreement though quiet enough not to echo through the room.

Hoseok then turned back to Jungkook with his eyes flashing red. “How non-deformed is she exactly?”

Nails dug deep into his palm until the skin almost ripped. Jungkook was glad he had a good ability to hide his abilities otherwise his eyes would have been permanently red from anger. “She’s…kinda perfect physically. I fed from her.” You fucking dumbass.

“You did?” Vira didn’t care to hide her grimace, hand pressing to her chest. “God, aren’t you sick?”

“It tasted good.”

“Really?” Hoseok’s eyes faded into red for longer than Jungkook was comfortable with. That same faint smirk appearing back on his lips. “How good?”

Jungkook wanted to look back at Belle. As if there was this intense pull at his belly wanting to watch her smile so genuinely again and tune this conversation out again. “Better than a human.”

“Fuck, seriously?” Doyoung’s eyes widened so much his eyes could have popped out if he wasn’t careful.

“Maybe we should tell our original masters to take in more humans to breed.” Hoseok nodded down at his open and ignored book rested there for show.

Jungkook actively ignored the comment and gathered a bit more confidence to look over at Belle’s table again. His stomach jumped to his throat when he noticed those dark orbs meet his own. He held onto it, expression softening to admire how beautifully they sparkled, how her chest rose and fell. The way her lips curled up before she leaned into whisper something in her friend’s ear.

Vira scoffed without any care for volume. “They’d rather feed on animals than do that. One abomination is enough.” Every word was harsh and cut, not a single ounce of regret in what was spewing out of her mouth.

He heard the words but paid no mind to them when Belle stood up from the chair, giving him another smile before walking over to the other end of the library where the last, abandoned aisle was.

“If you ask me then they should’ve killed her along with her dirty parents.” Vira shrugged looking down at her long deep violet nails.

“I need to find a book.” Jungkook got up from his chair and walked through the library on the other side of the shelves away from the tables. He didn’t share a single glance to Vira when she called his name.

It was almost like a pull. Dragging him across the floor like a sorry but happy puppet, running to the one who controlled his strings. She shouldn’t be controlling his strings. But Jungkook still let her.

Finally he reached the last aisle, pausing in his tracks for a moment when he saw Belle leaning back against the wall shelf with her arms crossed over her chest.

“What happened to not telling anyone?” Belle asked with a faint smirk plastered on her lips.

Jungkook walked to stand right in front of the girl, the morning sun brightly shining through the window but thankfully high enough not to beam on the floor. “Who says anyone’s going to know?”

The cute smirk stretched into a mischievous smile. “You owe me a little.”

“How’s that?”

“You fed from me.” Granted, Belle strangely enjoyed the feeling far more than she would like to admit. “Yet I haven’t gotten anything from you.”

“You don’t think it’s a little selfish?”

Without a reply, she hooked her fingers on the frilly hem of her dress, pulling it up enough for him to see those thick thighs again. “Depends on how badly you don’t want to give me anything.” Belle couldn’t help but dive deep into her gaze when looking at the male. Thin black sweater with the sleeves rolled up to show off the veins popping from his arms after his morning workout, long tresses naturally curled and touching his brows. She could just imagine those fingers gripping at her skin.

Gaze darkened as he watched her plump, pink painted lips curl up into a smile while the rubies in her eyes disappeared almost completely turning into a blackened red. “Do you enjoy making a scene?” His voice grumbled, stepping closer until once again he was met with that beautiful heat radiating from her.

“It’s not a scene if no ones’ looking.” Belle murmured, breath hitting his lips almost magnetizing him to dip his head down further. “Besides—I already know your little quiet shy boy is just a façade now. Don’t expect me not to have a little fun with it.”

Hand grabbed onto her hips like his life depended on it, pads of his finger squeezing her until he heard a light gasp. “I’m not like your other sweet humans that you tire out, darling.”

“Well I wouldn’t know much from experience, would I?” Belle tilted her head, her nerves awakening with the way his fingers deliciously dug through her clothes into her skin almost forming permanent dimples.

Jungkook walked forward letting her stumble back so she rested further against the last shelf of books. Her scent filling her nostrils again and he sniffed in letting it flood his lungs and thicken right up to his throat. His hands latched off her hip and trailed down her short dress, rough fingers tracing her soft thigh. Sliding up thin clothing between her legs, his hands paused where he felt heat. Wet heat soaking through a thin soft fabric, almost soggy when he pressed his fingers against it.

Belle let out a shaky breath, gently caressing his rising chest. As the male pressed harder she could feel her erect nub throbbing out for him. The light spark of pleasure caused her to close her eyes. What a mistake that was. Almost instantly the pressure on her panties stopped and another hand grabbed onto her chin.

“Look at me.” Jungkook growled under his breath. Eyes flashed red when their gazes met again causing Belle to smile albeit a little shakily.

A soft hum emitting in her throat, Belle felt his rough fingers sneak into her panties. Rubbing straight against her nub jolting sparks of pleasure through her veins. It was too tempting to close her eyes and fully relish into the sensations but she kept her gaze on him. His eyes faded into an extremely deep crimson.

Fingers caressed circles on her delicate clit before sliding down her dripping slit. Spreading her nether lips, he slowly pushed in his middle digit, curling up deeper as he hungrily watched Belle part her mouth and throw her head back against the shelf. Jungkook dipped in latching his lips onto her jugular to get more of her taste. So warm. So fucking sweet. He tried to muffle out the groan against her skin. Jungkook pulled his finger out and slid back up to her clit, increasing his pace into a mild assault of pleasure.

Belle brushed through his slightly cold hair, giggling lightly as he gently grazed his teeth on the side of her neck before kissing her jawline. She tried soften her moans with her trembling breaths but tiny noises of desperation still escaped. The rush tightened in her lower belly. Warmer. Hotter. Her hips jerked against his movements, almost standing on her tiptoes.

Then her ears pricked for a moment. Footsteps echoing a little closer than normal.

“Someones’ coming.” Belle whispered in a shaky tone, trying to push Jungkooks’ hand out of her panties but he didn’t budge.

“I thought you liked making a scene, baby.” He swirled his finger around her clit in a tantalizing pace again forcing her orgasm to move to a distance again.

“Jungkook—”

As the footsteps grew closer, Jungkook whipped her around so she faced the shelf. The librarian appeared at the aisle giving them a quick glance as Belle pretended to pick up a book.

It only took a few minutes of her gazing around, looking for a book rather than watching them directly but it thickened the frustration between the couple. Belle cupped her core gently trying to gain more friction to keep her pleasure driving closer though it was hard not to move too fast.

Once the librarian disappeared, Jungkook dipped his hand back without a single moment of hesitation, rubbing up and down her slit to spread her arousal before torturing her clit again. Head buried in her shoulder he viciously rubbed her bundle of nerves as she held onto the shelves for dear life while the book she held dropped to the ground.

Belle leaned her forehead against the shelf feeling the tightness in her lower belly. Calling out to her and yearning for more of his touch. Fingers wrapped around his forearm as it moved at a lightning pace. “J-Ju—” Heat surged through her body spreading across her limbs, knees shaking causing to almost stumble onto the floor but Jungkook kept her steady. She let out a clearer whimper as he continued to drawl out her orgasm, rubbing at her sensitive nub at a tantalizing pace.

Jungkook pressed roughly against her clit causing Belle to whine and giggle breathlessly. He couldn’t help but grin at the sweet sound, relishing in the aroma of lust mixing in with her natural scent. He turned her around more gently, taking his fingers into his mouth and suckling off her delicious release. “Is that good enough?” He brushed and fixed the light tresses hovering over the girl’s face.

She grinned brushing down the creases in her dress. “Much better.” Belle reached out and absentmindedly caressed the neckline of his shirt with a softer expression across her features, padding closer until her forehead was almost touching his chin. She had a light hum under her breath as she nudged her nose against his jawline.

“What’re you doing?” Jungkook asked, immediately regretting his words when he felt her comforting touch leave him making him feel empty.

Belle stammered stepping back a little and avoiding his gaze. He won’t care for you. “Nothing.” She mumbled quickly picking up the book from the floor, placing it back on the shelf. This was all you were meant for. “Sorry.” Was the final word uttered before she rushed to disappear out of the aisle.

Jungkook took a deep breath to call her back but the words died on his tongue. He had a feeling why she did it. That needy feeling to just cuddle into a warm body after coming down from a high. The little want to be taken care of. The knowledge of it all only caused a squeeze in his chest. I’m sorry.

NEXT PART >>

#jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #angst #vampire au #bts vampire au #jungkook vampire au #tw: smut

[diaco1968]

Hello <3

I have an emergency request, I just came out and told my family that I was raped when I was six, and so I'm having to go into a police station and explain in detail of what happened to me. And it's just playing on the front of my mind of what happened. I was wondering if you could write about the MHA boys comforting their S/O when they get flashbacks about it? I totally get it if its a touchy topic, I just really like your work and all, and though it might be nice to read it.

~BorkBork

Hello darling, I'm sorry you had to go through that and I hope you leave these days behind you and never have to deal with them again. It IS a touchy subject and you are very brave to have scratched the surface to start the healing. Be strong <3

Note: I did the boys I feel more comfortable doing since it is an emergency request and you didn't specify who, I hope you like these 5 and enjoy reading >_< @borkbork2024

Bakugou

He knew that distant wide eyed look on your face; the way you stared into the distance and clutched whatever was in your hands at the time.

And he hated it. He wanted nothing more to take that look and what was causing it away. But he couldn't do it. At least not without you.

Your knuckles turned white around the mug you were holding and that was his cue. He did his best to sound reassuring and warm. His hands moved towards yours, stopping inches away, hovering patiently.

"(Y/n)... look at me."

Your eyes snapped onto him, still wide and filled with discomfort; hurt; fear. He wished he could take it away.

"I'm going to hold your hands, is that okay?"

It took you a moment before you finally nodded in agreement and he didn't miss a beat, his hands taking the mug away from you and engulfing both your hands into the heat of his much larger hands, stretching your shaky fingers gently and rubbing them to warm them up, looking you straight in the eyes. Seriously but kindly. You could've sworn you could see your hurt reflected into his eyes too. Despite that his voice was soothing as he rubbed tiny slow circles on the back of your hands, making sure you were listening to him as he tried to reassure you.

"It"s over now. You're safe and I'm here with you. I will never let anyone hurt you, ever again. Okay baby?"

Midoriya

He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, but winced from the pain radiating in his arm, standing corrected that he still felt his arm after the injury.

He got distracted from your worried expression by trying to asses his injuries only momentarily and only to try to relieve you of your worries without having lied to you. And that one moment was enough for your worry to turn into anxiety and stress and that sent you spiraling down a pit of dark flashbacks. Shaky hands turning into tight fists by your sides, jaws locking shut as you closed your eyes tightly, every muscle in your demand clenching subconsciously.

He finally looked up in what felt like hours but was actually seconds and there you were standing, in your typical defense mechanism, and he hadn't felt this dumb in a while as he rushed to you.

"Oh shit, sweetie, are you alright? I'm so stupid, I'm sorry, come here."

He didn't give you time to protest or react as he wrapped his arms around you in what was surprisingly a comfortable hug despite his injured arm and your tight muscles. His hands moved down your arms, squeezing the tense muscles gently to relax them and he grabbed your hands, unclenching them slowly and gently as he smoothed your fingers open, rubbing the palm of your hands where your nails had dug deep in your palms.

"There is nothing to worry about, sweetheart. You know I'll always come back to you. And I will always protect you. Not that you need my protection, you're the strongest person I know, I was just-"

"Midoriya?"

You were talking so that was a good sign and he was glad you interrupted his babbling. Even better was that you now hugged him back and buried your face in his chest

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Be quiet..."

"Okay, sweetie."

He smiled as he hugged you tighter kissing the top of your head.

Shoto

Shoto was exceptionally busy today. He had been running errands all day and when he finally did come home he had loads of paper work on his hands. So you waited patiently all throughout the evening. But no matter how long you waited he didn't finish. You needed him right now though,

He had watched you in silence as you grabbed a chair from the opposite side of his desk and pulled it all the way over to take a seat next to him behind the desk. He had placed his hand on your knee as he leaned in to look at you.

"Is everything alright, little lady?"

He had asked and you had nod your head deciding you couldn't trust your voice enough to explain so you just told him you missed him.

He didn't look like he bought it but you weren't someone to be prodded for a conversation you didn't want to have, so he gave you time as he stroked your knee before turning and going back to work. You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them once he wasn't looking anymore. At first it was fine being in the room with him. His presence seemed to have driven away your thoughts. But now after a few minutes the thoughts came rushing back.

Fat tears started rolling down your cheeks and heavily dropping on your pants. You couldn't stop the tears and there was no way you could leave the room without giving him a scare, so you just sat there, chest heaving in silent sobs.

But Shoto was already worried, and he turned around to ask you again what had happened. A few seconds of silence as he stared at your face, his rapidly widening eyes chasing a tear down your cheek before he realised and he put everything away. Getting out of his chair he knelt in front of yours on the ground, his hand reaching out, stroking your cheek as he caught a tear on his fingers and wiped it off, trying to catch your eyes, his other hand holding yours on your lap. He wasn't much for words, but for you he'd try.

"Everything is fine, love. You can let it out. I'm here for you. We'll get through this together, alright? I love you."

Dabi

"I said I don't fucking care, get it through your thick skull."

Well he should have cared. You were furious. You didn't even remember how the fight started and what it was about. But that nonchalant 'I don't care about anything' persona he tried to put up was so out of date already. In a fit of blind rage you raised your hand and slapped him across the face. And boy did he not like that. A sound between a shocked gasp and an enraged growl came from him, terrifying you, before he was in your face, roughly grabbing your hands and restraining any further movement you could've made. Your chest tightened as anxiety clawed it's way up your gut.

"What the fuck did you just do?!"

You were trying to pull your arms free but was frozen on the spot by the way he yelled at you. Your whole body went numb, cold chills running up and down your spine as you stared up at him with wide eyes that glossed over immediately.

He knew what was wrong. He knew the way you froze and went numb. It wasn't like your usual fiery self. And he knew that he triggered it. He had never winced harder in his life as he let go of your hands and pulled you into his arms. He pressed you to his chest and rubbed his hands up and down your back to calm you down, internally cursing his recklessness as he buried his nose in your hair.

"...fuck I'm sorry... it's okay, doll. You're okay. No one is hurting you. No one will ever dare hurt you. I'll make sure of that."

Hawks

"Are you okay? What happened?"

The second he heard the glass shattering, he was in the kitchen with you but he wished he had never left to begin with. You were in the kitchen, right there in the middle. There were glass shards and food splatters all around you as you just stood there with your back to the door.

"Dove?"

No reply. As he started to carefully make his way towards you, he saw your arms raise slowly and wrap around yourself and you started heaving loudly. Breathing heavily as if you just ran a marathon, little whimpers and dry sobs spilling out of your lips and soon turning into tiny but persistent hiccups. And he knew all about this. This defense mechanism your mind subconsciously hid behind.

"(Y/n)!"

He closed the distance between you, placing his hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down as he tried to catch your eyes, calling your name over and over until you finally looked at him. He pulled you closer, his wings extending as they wrapped around the two of you, shutting off the rest of the world.

Yours and his so called wings' safety circle.

It was a thing he came up with to calm you down and make you feel better and it did work. In his arms and in between his wings, which created a warm little space for you where even the noise from the rest of the world was muffled and cut out, you felt safe. Your breathing slowly went back to normal as you watched the feathers rustle slowly, with your cheek on his chest, feeling his calming heartbeat and syncing with it.

"I've got you, dove. No one can touch you here. It's just you and me and I've got you, (y/n)."

#request #bakugou x reader #dabi x reader #shoto x reader #hawks x reader #Midoriya x reader #comforting

[mellow-em]

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 2

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The afternoon sun brought in a relaxing mixture of natural light from the windows, but I wasn’t even remotely focused on it.

My right leg was bouncing hastily under the kitchen table while I prodded my salad with a fork. I tossed a particularly small carrot around in the bowl, swirling it around the sea of other vegetables.

“Are you gonna eat that or play around with it sweetie?” The sound of my mothers voice raced right through one ear and out the other one.

I only sighed in response, and leaned the side of my head on my hand, not bothering to look up at either of my parents that sat across from me.

They urged me to consistently have family meals with them today, in an attempt to dine on the experiences I had away at college. If they’d asked me to do this at any other time, I wouldn’t mind.

But my head was clouded by something else; or should I say by someone else.

Last night refused to escape my line of thinking. Even after it all went down, I went back to bed to try and fall back asleep, but it was absolutely no use.

The cunning quirk of his lips as he smirked back at me was an image that glued itself to the front of my brain. I reeled around in bed until sunrise, unable to silence my thoughts regardless of any persistence. So as of now, I was beyond exhausted.

“y/n? Are you alright?”

I jump faintly in my chair, with my fathers words pulling me away from my cogitation of the man from the pool, “I’m um.. I’m fine, sorry.”

I gave them a toothless smile as reassurance, but by the exchange of looks they both gave each other, they didn’t seem too convinced.

I shifted uncomfortably, and stabbed the carrot I was messing with. I slowly bring it towards my mouth, finally having the compulsion to take a bite.

Until the man’s wink decided to project in front of me, as if I was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again.

I abruptly dropped the fork into the bowl, resulting in a reverberating clash that not only startled my parents, but it startled me back into reality again.

“Jesus y/n, what’s gotten into you?”

I’m asking that same question, mom.

“Nothing, I uh- think I’m just tired,” the excuse flew out of my mouth in a panic, “I’m just.. I’m gonna go shower for the party later.”

I hurriedly sprung from my seat, and scurried up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Well that was smooth, dumbass,” I muttered out in the open, while slamming the door behind me.  

That son of a bitch is driving me crazy, and I haven’t even had a single conversation with him.

I take a few steps into the bathroom, placing both of my hands on opposite sides of the sink, leaning over with my body weight. With my head bowed down to the direction of my feet, I suspired deeply.

This was stupid. The brief interaction was embarrassing, yes, but with how I reacted today during lunch, especially when the party was happening later on today..

I just needed to stop thinking about what happened last night.

Act like it didn’t happen.

It didn’t happen.

____________

Turmoil carried on in the form of muffled conversations, and distinct bass from the speakers on the lower levels of the house. Even being upstairs in my room, the walls weren’t thick enough to block the noise that derived from the party.

Of course, my dad’s annual excuse backfired, and instead of the party being fairly small, it was as big as the rest of the parties we've had in the past. Although I really shouldn’t be surprised, knowing this really has carried on for 10 years at most.

As of now, I could only assume that the booze was already out for everyone, and by the end of the night, I could guarantee that almost half the people here will be drunk. It reassured me though, especially when I’ll probably end up being one of those people.

I could use a little alcohol in my system; to let myself go a little bit.

While fixing the straps of my white sundress, I looked at myself in the mirror, making sure any scraps of exhaustion were not visible on my features. Despite longing for a few hours of rest, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to get much yet again.

With satisfaction, I back away from my vanity, and start for the door that barricaded me from the chaos.

The exchanges of laughter became much more pronounced as I slowly opened the door, and traveled down the hall. My feet carried me towards the stairs, shaking from the rumble of the speakers seeping through the walls and floors.

It was a blessing that the noise didn’t affect our neighbors enough for them to make complaints; but that was mostly because they were all here.

With each step down the flight, more of the party overtook my vision. Guests were dispersed amongst every room as far as I could see, gathering around each other in hopes of starting conversation over the music. It had been fairly crowded to say the least.

Immediately after I make it to the ground floor, I’m bombarded by my mother.

“Hey honey, Nathan and Elena are outside if you want to say hello to them!” her slightly raising her voice didn't really help much, with us being right next to the speakers. But I nodded letting her know I understood.

Turning away from her, I then faced the crowd of people in front of me. I start to weave my way through, making slight pauses along the way to thank them for coming. Most of the people around me had a slight stench of beer already, making me scrunch my nose; that smell is definitely going to linger afterwards.

Eventually making it to the door, I slide it open and step out, letting the freshness of the outside air fill my senses. I quickly noticed the difference between the outdoors and the impeded aura from inside the house. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.

After shutting the sliding door behind me, I strolled away towards the yard.

I made sure to make a slight detour to the cooler to grab myself a beer though, rashly cracking it open as soon as I got my hands on one. I take a swig while observing the guests around me.

As soon as I saw a familiar head of blonde hair a few yards away, I could feel myself smile widely. I hadn’t seen Nate or Elena in four years, and being back home now is making me realize how much I missed them.

The both of them had moved into the neighborhood about a year after my family, and that was over 15 years ago. Ever since then, they hit it off more than you could imagine.

They had all gotten so close to one another, that they’d have annual dinners together, game nights and tag along on all of our family trips. They would even bring in their ideal vacation spots up to us, which evolved into us traveling to entirely different countries most of the time.

While Elena and my mom went to any beach they could find, and my dad found the bar, Nathan really wanted to drag me along to the historical landmarks and teach me about everything he knew. It made our relationship blossom, and now I considered him my second father.

Plus, because of him I began to develop an endless love for history.

I liked it so much that I made the decision to go to college for it. Nathan’s reaction when I told him before I left was something for the cover of a photo album, and I just knew already that a million questions were going to arise when I got to them.

I stepped down from the deck, and walked towards them with my lips still curled in a smile.

As I made it closer to them though, my gaze became hazy. With my brows contorting, my confused demeanor became more visible with every footstep I made closer to Nate and Elena.

There was another man wrapped into their conversation. He was taller than the other two, especially Elena. I noticed his hair slicked back ruggedly, from above the others’ heads. Though, I still couldn’t get a proper look at his face yet.

I turned my direction slightly to discreetly see who my neighbors were conversing with. My curious nature was overriding my body.

I should have just listened to that universally cliche phrase.

Curiosity did kill the fucking cat, and I wish it would just kill me now.

From here, I had a clear view of his face. He stood there listening to Nate’s banter, with a cigarette wedged between his lips.

The lips I had been staring at the night before, along with the rest of him.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

By this point I would’ve  been repeating my annual habit of staring in place. But  fortunately, I turned on my heal sharply to try and escape.  

“Oh my god y/n?” My breath hitched while Elena's voice rang out towards me.

Well great.

I held that particular breath in as I turned my body once more to face her. My warm smile returned to my face, but a layer of embarrassment and panic riddled beneath the surface.

“Elena, it’s so good to see you,” I went over and wrapped my arms around her carefully, keeping her baby bump in mind, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she returned the hug, leaning close to my ear, mumbling, “especially when I��ve had to deal with him all alone. I swear sometimes I really question whether the pregnancy hormones are hitting me or him harder.”

I look over at Nate for a quick second, stifling a laugh while I let go of Elena. The two of us continued laughing faintly, certainly gaining the attention of Nate.

“What are you two laughing about? What’d I do this time?” Nate looked genuinely perplexed, which made it funnier.

“Oh nothing, Nate,” Elena and I looked at each other, smirking as she spoke.

Even with Elena and I’s pleasant interaction, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t quit. I just knew he was watching my every move.

Especially, when in the corner of my eye, I watched his travel with me as I went to give Nate his hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Crash.”

Hearing the nickname took me away from my thoughts on the man behind me for a moment, and made my smile lift. 

“It’s been too long, Aku.”

We stayed this way for a few more seconds, until I feel him pat my back. I let my arms fall away from him, and return to my spot in front of them.

I then feel my head slowly turn over to the unknown one of the three; well to me he was unknown. 

“So who’s this?” I cross my arms in front of me, anticipating an answer from one of them.

But silence continued to radiate around us. 

They all stood there, exchanging looks with one another, making me raise one of my brows. While awaiting a response I decided to take a long sip of my beer, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat. 

That is, before Nate finally spoke up, “Y/n, this is Sam,” he paused, and I could see the hesitation written all over him, “Sam Drake.”

I almost choked on my beer as soon as I heard the last name. I thought for a solid minute that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. 

“Is this your-” I pointed between the both of them.

“He’s my older brother.” Nate finishes my sentence, as he scratched at the back of his neck. 

My face fell even more if it was even possible.

Wait.

Nate was in his early forties to begin with, so that would make Sam…

I looked at Sam’s face intensely again, specifically at the wrinkles that were tainted across his face. Now that my brain was functioning properly, unlike last night, I noticed how many there really were. 

Great. Not only was I checking out Nathan’s BROTHER, but the man that was more than twice my age.

Fuck.

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted #naughty dog

[godofsexdrugsandrocknroll]

On A Tropical Island

Jaune: Great. Just great. Now I’m lost and all my friends are missing too! I’m too angry to be depressed!

Neo: *Head pops out of the sand, spitting it everywhere*

Jaune: Oh, even better. Now I have company. This can’t possibly get any worse! *Ignores Neo glaring*

-----------------

Jaune: Stop following me! You’re a bad girl!

Neo: *Cocks eyebrow*

Jaune: *Blushes* Not what I meant! I mean you’re evil! And all you’ve done to help so far is poke me with a stick! *Is poked with a stick* Dammit, stop that!

Neo: *Pokes him in the butt instead*

Jaune: OW! That’s not what I meant you menace!

Neo: *Preens at being called a menace*

Jaune: And stop trying to be cute, too!

----------------- 

Neo: *Tapping bare foot*

Jaune: Okay, so maybe my sense of direction isn’t the best. *gets The Look* Alright alright already, jeez. We’re back where we started, your shoes, your jacket and my armor are now forever lost to the wilds and it’s not my fault!

Neo: *Stares*

Jaune: *Shifts guiltily* Okay maybe it is, but if I had a map *Neo crosses her arms, reigniting The Look™ * we’d still probably be lost since the rest of team RNJR banned me from the map after reading it backwards and upside down.

Neo: *Nods firmly, taking the lead*

Jaune: For the fourth time.

Neo: *Turns, gapes in shock, shakes her head and grabs him by the hand*

Jaune: *Offended* Hey, I’m not a child! I won’t get lost!

Neo: *Looks at him through her eyelashes*

Jaune: *Sighs* Okay, fine. But only because getting lost in a weird jungle is way worse than getting lost in the grocery store at 14.

Neo: *Stops, removes belt, ties end around his wrist and grabs the other end*

Jaune: *Starts whining*

----------------- 

Jaune: Dear diary *ignores Neo’s pointing and silent laughter* today is day 17 on the worst island to ever exist. Butthole and I -- OW, SHIT-FUCK-SHIT! I really hate that you sharpened your stick into a spear! Fine, Neo and I finally have a a good system in place for food. We’ve got our firepit, Neo turned my armor we found into a pan, one pot and a skillet, my impeccable home economics have saved our asses and we’ve got a spit for roasting things over the fire!

Neo: *Munches happily on roast rabbit*

Jaune: It’s really working out! Neo’s great at the spotting and tracking, I get to use the spear to hunt and there’s plenty of these really stupid semi-intelligent rabbits that seem to have a language of their own that are really good when you cook ‘em just right. *Pauses* I think they might have stolen my shirt though, I haven’t seen that thing in like four days.

Neo: *Mentally reminds herself to burn the eye candy’s shirt before he finds it*

-----------------

Day 28

Jaune: Ow, stop kicking me! I said I was sorry!

Neo: *Jumps on Jaune, bites his ear*

Jaune: AAAGGHH!!! Dammit Neo, how many times do I have to tell you not to bite me! It’s not my fault that seagull stole your hat! In case you hadn’t noticed, it stole Pyrrha’s sash too!

Neo: *Jumps off him, gestures emphatically*

Jaune: I know, you angry little troll! *Instead of attacking him again, Neo just stares at him sadly* I-I... *sighs* I know. I know. I really wanna kill that thing too. It’s...it’s all I had left of her too. All you had left of Torchwick. But we’re stuck here. We can’t find my friends and this island is huge.

Neo: *Nods unhappily*

Neo: *Jabs him with her stick spear*

Jaune: Yeah, we can kill any seagulls we see. *Neo blinks, considers trying to get her point across but nods*

-----------------

Day 49

Jaune: How do you set everything on fire! I told you we needed just enough to warm ourselves!

Neo: *Lunges at Jaune, leaves fire to burn*

Jaune: *Is strangled*

-----------------

Day 54

Neo: *Admires Jaune’s ass in jorts*

Jaune: I still don’t understand why you had to ruin my jeans. Tossing the boots into that bottomless pit, I get. My feet thank you. Uh, except when I keep stepping on sharp rocks and twigs. But really?

Neo: *Points at him, hand fans herself and panics, shaking her head rapidly*

Jaune: *Oblivious, insulted* Yeah, yeah, I’m sweaty! Fine, fuck having pant legs! I wanna get scratched and bitten by those weird little blue people again!

Neo: *Blinks, shakes her head in exasperation and relief*

-----------------

Day 59

Jaune: I can’t believe you committed genocide because those blue people stole your top! Neo, they just wanted a tent!

Neo: *Glares murderously at Jaune, covering her frilly pink and white bra with her hand and arm*

Jaune: *Gulps* I-I-I-I know! It’s upsetting, but murder isn’t always the answer!

Neo: *Uses free hand and makes bunny ears*

Jaune: Hey, those rabbits might be really stupid but they’re super mean spirited! One tried to drop a rock on my head and don’t you dare say it’d be an improvement!

Neo: *Startled, laughs*

Jaune: *Sheepish, laughs too*

Neo: *Continues laughing, eventually noticing Jaune has stopped and is red in the face, wide eyed*

Neo: *Notices she moved her arm and Jaune is staring at her chest*

Jaune: *Notices Neo’s glare and red face* W-wait, hold on a minute now, I didn’t mean to--

Neo: *Glomps, bites his nipple*

Jaune: *Girlish screams that can be heard for miles*

-----------------

Day 72

Jaune: No, put the berries down. You can’t just keep eating fruit all the time, you’re already very small and need to keep yourself healthy if you don’t wanna lie rotting as a corpse on this island forever.

Neo: *Grabs a huge handful of berries, shoves them in her mouth smugly*

Jaune: Dammit Neo, stop being so bratty! I’m only trying to help! *Grabs Rabbit jerky* Now do your body good, open your mouth and eat my meat!

Neo: *Gags, chokes, spits mushy berries out and kicks Jaune in the solar plexus for the phrasing*

Jaune: *Wheezing* I swear I didn’t mean to OH X-RAY AND VAV, SAVE ME!

Nearby Seagull: *Hearing the abyssal, shrieking screams of the Tall One, flies off in terror and decides to move the family nest*

Neo: *Biting, kicking, punching and pinching*

-----------------

Day 88

Jaune: I can hardly shave Neo, if you don’t remember my sword’s a jagged piece of sharp metal these days!

Neo: *Shows off shaved armpits, shows off shaved legs having long since created shorts from her capris and shows him a wooden knife*

Jaune: I should be concerned that you’ve created another stabby, but somehow -- GASP! *Actually gasps, clutches his beard* No! You wouldn’t!

Neo: *Grins*

Jaune: Please don’t, beloved friend of mine.

Neo: *Touched*

Jaune: What? We are. I mean sure you bite and attack me way more than most normal people do but you did save me from that rabbit mercenary group that tried to use a swinging log to splatter my brains against a tree. You might’ve been a bad guy once, but it’s nearly been three months and you’ve more than proven yourself. And I can’t really not call you a friend when I feel guilty about how I treated you.

Neo: *Smiles, undoes her bra*

Jaune: Wait, WHAT!? *Neo jumps on him and smiling happily, gives his cheek a kiss and starts shaving* WAIT NEO NO, THAT’S NOT FAIR YOU CAN’T USE BOOBIES AS A WEAPON LIKE THA- *Neo shakes her body side to side* -GGRRRGGG! That is so cruel. You’re the worst friend ever. I’m glad you have to sit on my ribs and not my lap because that would be even worse.

Neo: *Continues shaving*

----------------- 

Day 146

Jaune: *Using his semblance* See, what’d I tell you? They get smarter! No way are those little demons gonna fall for the same trap twice.

Neo: *Lets Jaune heal the bloody bite marks from a rabbit, squirms*

Jaune: Stop it, you’re fine. *Kisses healed hand* Booboo be gone!

Neo: *Blushes brightly, stares wide eyed*

----------------- 

Day 179

Neo: *Spinkicks boulder about to crush Jaune*

Jaune: Thanks Neo! *To a small, derpy looking anthropomorphic rabbit* Your wretched plan is foiled you vile creature from the deepest pits of hell! Now do me a favor and get stabbed!

Neo: *Spins away, clutching her beating heart as the sound of a vicious goring occurs*

Jaune: Another day, another dead rabbit! Oh look, there’s more! *Offers the Spear of Ultimate Stick to Neo* You wanna eviscerate the next couple?

Neo: *Wonders what this feeling is*

----------------- 

Day 187

Jaune: *Gaping stupidly at Neo’s perfectly lit fire* W-wha? How!? Two months ago you lit my hair on fire *brushing hand through short, unstyled blondeness* but n-now...

Neo: *Smugly roasting bird meat*

Jaune: *Scoops Neo into a hug, spins the wide eyed mute* I understand how Dad felt when I finally learned to tie my shoes in the 6th grade now! I’m so proud, Neo! OW!

Neo: *Spits Jaune’s shoulder blood out, turns away blushing*

Jaune: Still proud. *Notices Neo blushing, deliberately not looking at him* Uh-oh. *Quietly, to himself* Oh no. I recognize this feeling. Ohhh shit. Okay, what the hell Jaune!? You see her boobs and you feel awkward about your boner for three days, but she looks all cute and embarrassed and that’s what does me in!? What kind of bullshit is this!?

Neo: *Oblivious, cupping her cheeks and cutely twisting back and forth*

-----------------

Day 219

Jaune: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Neo: *Silently screaming at the top of her lungs*

Jaune: OH MY GOD NEO WHY THE FUCK IS HE SO BIG!? *Looks fearfully back at a 12 foot tall, musclebound, derpy looking anthroporphic rabbit sprinting at them with rage in its unthinking eyes*

Neo: *Frantically mimes stabbing*

Jaune: NEO, WHAT THE FUCK, I THINK HE’S TOO SWOLE FOR HUSHABYE!!!

Neo: *Heart flutters at Jaune’s name for their spear*

Giant Rabbit: ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!

Jaune: *Ears ringing*

Neo: *Points at Jaune’s crotch, mimes stabbing*

Jaune: *Pales* THAT’S PROBABLY THE MOST EVIL THOUGHT YOU’VE EVER HAD IN YOUR LIFE! *Neo pouts, mimes it again* I’M JUST SAYING, NOT JUDGING, LET’S DO IT! *Uses semblance*

Neo: *Commits murder most foul*

Jaune: *Whips out the wooden knife* I’M SO SORRY FOR THIS, YOU OVERGROWN FREAK OF NATURE! *Jumps on the screaming body of the mutated rabbit, starts stabbing*

~~5 Minutes Later~~

Jaune: *Covered in blood, wipes forehead* Phew. Killing something this big really takes it out of you.

Neo: *Covered in blood, staring at Jaune wide eyed*

Jaune: Kind of a shame he looks basically human. Save for his stupid head, I guess, because I kinda don’t wanna eat anything that’ll make me feel too cannibally. *Puts hand on chin, blood drips* But I kinda think this is like the Final Boss of those rabbits. Maybe chop his head off and put on a pike like you did with that poor little blue guy that seemed to be the other blue people’s chief? *Nods resolutely* Yeah, gotta establish dominance and fear in those godless little fucks. *Looks at Neo* What do you think, NeeeMMMMPPPHHH!!!

Neo: *Glomps Jaune, shoves her tongue into his mouth*

-----------------

Day 237

Neo: Gakgh gakgh gakgh!

----------------- 

Day 243

Jaune: Oh god, yeah, fuck yeah, you like that don’t you? *Grabs Neo’s hair*

Neo: *Likes that very much*

-----------------

Day 249

Jaune: *Waggles knife* So, uh, aim for the kidneys?

Neo: *Nods emphatically*

Jaune: Huh. I guess I’ll test it out on Cinder. Thanks honey. *Kisses cheek*

Neo: *Swoons*

-----------------

Day 251

Jaune: *Naked, washing grumpy Neo’s hair* I really mean it! I am so sorry. Just, well, uh...okay, you give amazing head and I wasn’t expecting you to go for the balls. Or, uh, the other thing, but well, um *sighs* look, the taint thing was just really unexpected and I’m really sorry I came in your hair! *Blushes*

Neo: *Can’t help but be proud, leans into his hands*

-----------------

Day  268

Jaune: Is there no end to your flexibility!? *Chokes on air* Nope. Guess not.

Neo: *Doing the splits smugly*

-----------------

Day 274

Jaune: And that is why, despite what people say, Immortal Konflict is superior to Road Combatant!

Neo: *Nods seriously*

Jaune: Wanna play when we get back to Remnant, maybe after we kill Salem in her sleep or something?

Neo: *Nods excitedly*

Jaune: You’re the best! *Kisses temple* Ow, why are you hitting me, I thought you liked kisses!?

Neo: *Liking forehead and temple kisses but not wanting to admit it*

-----------------

Day 296

Jaune: *Cumming inside*

Neo: *Toes curl, signing ‘I Love You’ over and over again*

Jaune: *Panting* God I love you too, Neo.

Neo: *Gapes, signs*

Jaune: *Panting decreases* Uh, yeah? My Dad has permanent hearing damage from his Huntsman days. Some chick had a mortar-giant cudgel-battering ram weapon and you can guess about how well that went.

Neo: *Signs more*

Jaune: I-- *realizes* ohhhh. I get it. Uh, I didn’t even think about it. You never signed so I figured you never learned. Ow, my ass!

Neo: *Stops pinching his ass, signs again but slower*

Jaune: *Blushes brightly* Um, yeah. I did. Is that-- *Neo flips him onto his back, kissing him and rocking her hips*

-----------------

Day 338

Jaune: *Contently holding Neo* This really was the last thing I expected to happen. *Neo nods as she leans into him* I...I don’t think I can ever really not miss Pyrrha, or despise Cinder from the bottom of my soul.

Neo: *Signs rapidly that she feels the same way, that she misses Roman*

Jaune: Yeah. I know. *Clears throat* But I think it’s okay. I mean I didn’t expect this to happen, but I’m glad it did. *Snuggling occurs* We’re gonna get out of here. We’re putting Cinder in the dirt. Then we’re gonna do the same to Salem. Then buy a house.

Neo: *Signs*

Jaune: I’ve kinda been a country boy my whole life. It’s up to you *is headbutted* OW! *Neo rubs the back of her aching head, signs, Jaune rubs his chin* Then it’s decided.

*Enjoying each others presence*

----------------- 

Day 362

Weiss: Actually, the amount of slashes in the trees could just mean some new terrible creature of ridiculous origin could have made this area of the forest its stomping grounds.

Blake: *Flatly* As long it’s not the flying piranhas with steel teeth that drip acid, I’m fine.

Ruby: *Shudders* Please don’t remind me! I’m suppressing, Blake! Do you want to ruin fish sticks and mustard for me!?

Blake: *Grimaces* Yes.

Yang: *Ignores the bickering* Not gonna lie Weiss, after that giant crocodile with the crown and the cape and the penguin with the hammer, something a little more normal and horrific sounds just like home. *Adjusts cheetah print bikini, shifts hips under her grass skirt*

Weiss: *Eyebrow twitches* Right. Home. Which you clearly miss. *Eyes Yang’s flawless tan*

Yang: Huh? Well, yeah! Not to devalue the disaster we have waiting for us when we get back but I’m dying for a cheeseburger and a *in singsong* Strawberry Sunrise!

Ruby: *Cutting off Weiss and ignoring a fuming Blake* It could be Jaune though!

Weiss: Yes, possibly, but you have to consider the fact-- *Steps around tree, goes silent at the sounds*

Neo: *In a mating press clutching her feet, biting her lip and then silently moaning*

Jaune: *Going so hard he’s clapping Neo’s cheeks*

Weiss: --that maybe those living, spiny fruits got us again and we’re all on a very bad trip. *Can’t look away but wants to*

Ruby: *Blushes furiously*

Blake: *Covers nose, turns away*

Yang: I really wanna be there for our boy but *ignores Jaune’s cursing, Neo’s nodding and Jaune pushing in deep and creampieing the silently screaming mute* a really big part of me wants to punch him in his stupid face. Really!? Her!?

Blake: *Muffled* You sure you’re not just salty that it’s Neo?

Jaune: *Awkwardly, wide eyed but happy* Oh. Guys. Hey! Hi! *Weiss screeches as Jaune stands, Neo breathes heavily but grins smugly*

Yang: Nope. Not at all. *Clenching fist*

-----------------

Day 363

Yang: Okay. I’m cool with whole... *gestures at Neo and Jaune holding hands*  thing, because honestly I’d have to be a condescending and arrogant bitch to look down on you because of that, but really?

Ruby: Yang has a point, little blue people and psychotic but also really stupid rabbits and their super-duper-strong Daddy Rabbit? And you killed them alllll oh wow. *Staring at something that Jaune pulled from a bag* That’s a weird looking skull. *Whispering* Why does he have a skull!? Oh no, Neo really did corrupt him and not just with that!

Yang: *Gapes, recovers slowly, sarcastically* She is such a good influence on you Jaune.

Jaune: *Grinning* I know, right? I mean imagine if Neo wasn’t here with me! I probably would’ve survived but I would’ve been so depressed that I’d probably be coming back eyeless and with a ton of PTSD! And maybe a quirky catchphrase!

Yang: Because that’s important. *Rolls eyes* Besides, you couldn’t pull off a catchphrase to save your life.

Jaune: *Face goes slack, contorts stupidly in a scream* BWAAAAH!

Team RWBY: *Jerks*

Neo: *Bites Jaune’s pinky*

Jaune: OW-OW-OW! Take a joke, Neo!

Yang: No, yeah, pretty much on the shrimp’s side.

Weiss: I have no idea what that was but never do it again.

Blake: *Forgives Jaune and Neo for their crusade against the rabbits*

Ruby: *Giggling at the derp face Jaune made*

Jaune: Fine, fine, you win. *Pouting* Using their war cry would have been so insulting to their memory though.

Neo: *Smiling, kisses Jaune’s cheek, signs that he’s a big baby*

Weiss: Getting back to the point though, we didn’t think Jaune would be in nearly as good shape as he’s in now. In that regard I feel we owe Neopolitan a good deal of gratitude.

Blake: And like it or not Yang, having her not just be an enemy of Salem but actually on our side?

Yang: Yeah, well--

Ruby: Plus he’s happy! And I think he kind of needs it. *Sadly* We all do. A-and if Neo is what makes him happy, then I think I’m happy too.

Jaune: *Touched* Rubes...

Ruby: It hurts, Jaune. But I can’t imagine...well, I can’t imagine if it were me. So it’ll take time but the best thing I can do here is be happy for you and get us outta here! *Pumps fist*

Neo: *Signs rapidly*

Jaune: *Grins* And make Cinder and Salem unalive! And in the days leading to that, make them wish they were already dead!

Ruby: *Uncomfortable at the bloodlust* Umm...

Yang: Ah fuck it, you speak my language like that and I can’t stay mad at you! Let’s do it! *Slaps Blake’s ass*

Blake: *Yelps, blushes and glares at Yang* Is this really the time for that!?

Weiss: *Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut* Ah, the onset of a pounding headache. Truly the gang is back together again.

----------------- 

Day 365

Jaune: Kinda conveniant that exactly one year after falling into the mythical island of who knows where we find ourselves back in the real world, isn’t it?

Neo: *Hand on her hip, staring at him*

Yang: I’m with the midget. *Grass skirt swishes* Are you really about to complain we’re free of that hellhole?

Weiss: They have a point. After everything we fought there you’d think you would be more appreciative.

Jaune: I am. It just seemmmmpph! *Is kissed by Neo*

Neo: *Happily shuts Jaune up*

Ruby: Alright, let’s do this!

*Action pose except Yang’s tan, in a cheetah fur bikini and a grass skirt, Jaune has a handful of Neo’s ass and Neo is grabbing Jaune by the hair, clearly using tongue and Hushabye is aimed in a slightly red faced Blake’s direction*

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I got the chance to see the RWBY finale today and rather than be depressed and think about Penny, I decided I’d go ahead and write a Silent Knight fic instead. It’s all over the place but really, that’s to be expected since I went in with no plan. I know people are already bitching over on Reddit about Jaune possibly getting attention, but like with most people who dislike a character I decided to pay them no mind whatsoever.

Because honestly, with Dragonslayer never happening I’d be perfectly fine with Jaune x Neo.

As for this entire thing, I had way more fun with it than I should have and I hope anyone reading it has just as much fun as I did writing it.

Oh. And yes, there were plenty of Rabbids and Smurfs harmed in the creation of this lengthy drabble.

#rwby #jaune arc #neopolitan #silent knight #jaune x neo #team rwby #rwby volume 8 finale #au #this is what happens when you let a drunk type #what's crack-a-lackin' #shitpost

[lipstickbisous]

𝐢𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝟏

notes: this isn’t gonna be a long series, maybe like three or four parts!! but i feel like something with bucky was much needed! and it’s honestly impossible for me to write a pure fluff for him bc he’s such an angsty character.

and it’s going to sound like a stucky fic but maybe that's foreshadowing, maybe not...and (you’ll see later) but this isn’t skinny shaming!! it’s just sort of to exaggerate how hurt the reader is

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, former!steve rogers x reader

summary: in which steve rogers is the villian, and two stranded strangers find solace in each other.

warnings: ANGST, steve is a dick, mentions of anxiety and not eating,

word count: 3.9k

masterlist - series masterlist

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ bucky’s alone now, but then again, he always has been. that feeling of emptiness that sits deep inside his stomach and visits him every hour of the day isn’t foreign. in fact, he’s been living with it for seventy years now and in a lifetime, he’s gotten used to it. bucky used to be terrified of the void he’d see when he went to sleep every night. his room in siberia was dark, the walls were drab, and the floors were dirtied with mud and dried blood. thankfully, that was his past. he thought bucarest would be his new home, even if it was a tiny apartment with creaky floors and a leakyceiling, it was his. he’d even placed a few flowers he’d picked in a small vase on his dining table, but they’d died in a matter of days and bucky had never gone flower picking again. however, when the newspapers read of the winter soldier and the attack in vienna, he knew it was time to run again. steve had been waiting for him. he had every reason to be cautious, but to see a face that was slightly familiar--bucky’s memory was still foggy--made him realize that maybe...he wasn’t so alone anymore. maybe steve could explain to tony that it wasn’t bucky at the UN, maybe they would invite him into their home and help him, and maybe he would finally have a family. wrong. bucky felt that it was partially his fault that steve could no longer return to his life. steve rogers was now a fugitive on the run because his best friend couldn’t control himself. but even bucky found hope in that--they could be on the run together. “it’ll be like old times” he’d told himself before falling asleep on the quinjet, only to wake up in a foreign country and steve saying goodbye. if bucky was being honest, his time in wakanda had been the most peace he had in over seventy years. he’d been frozen for six months, but it wasn’t the same way HYDRA had done it. before, he would wake up with freezer-burn bruises, unhealed cuts, and random sore spots. but when he’d opened his eyes to a utopian city-like view, bucky was...relieved. the sight of the jungle every morning was a soothing reminder that the violence of his previous life was over. there was no strange ache in his back anymore. “when healing, the best thing to do after caring for yourself is caring for others”. the goats had been a gift from t’challa, and bucky’s heart was constantly swelling as the year passed and they grew. he’d traded the metal arm for a patterned cloak and lived in the outskirts of the city. it was the quiet, peaceful life that bucky had been looking forward to since 1945. until steve rogers wove his way back into his life with the reasoning that “the world is in danger and we’re the ones to save it”. of course, bucky was glad to see a familiar face after two years, but steve was also a nudge that the quiet peace was over and would be for a while. all bucky could remember was calling out to steve and a dryness in his throat as his stomach rumbled like he hadn’t eaten a single piece of food in months. his bones started to wobble in their places, he lost control of spasming muscles before he watched his fingers, hand, and soon arm turn into particles of ash that would collect on the forest floor of wakanda. his eyes closed and his mind rested. it was almost like being frozen again, except there wasn’t the stinging sensation of ice collecting on his skin. when he woke, a strange man in a red cape was telling him, “we have to go. they need us.” he’d watched tony die without ever receiving a real apology from bucky. not that it was necessary, but bucky still held guilt for every assassination and mission he’d done. he’d comforted steve with the loss of his friend, and just for a split second, bucky had hope. life would be good from then on--he and steve would finally be there for each other. it’d be like life in brooklyn before super heroes and mad titans taking over the universe. he knew that steve would help him settle, find his own place, walk through public without strange stares, and maybe even get a girl. “i’m gonna go back for her,” steve had said one night. they’d been sitting at the dining table in his apartment. he’d been gracious enough to let bucky stay until he could get back on his feet, but the place suddenly didn’t feel like home. “i saw her...when we went back. i just- it felt so right. to see her right then and there.”bucky was speechless to say the least. he didn’t need a name to know who had their hand around steve’s heart. his hand gripped the couch cushion, feeling the stiff stuffing crumple in his palm.

“but what about (y/n)? a-and i’ll need help finding an apartment, a small one in brooklyn is fine, but-”

“you can have this one,” steve shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning back on the couch. his eyebrows were furrowed in such a way that he almost looked confused, but bucky knew that steve had already made up his mind. he would return the stones tomorrow and never come back. “and she knows, buck, i wouldn’t just leave without telling her.”

it all hit bucky like a brick. “that’s why i haven’t seen her around lately,” he nodded slowly, but there was a pit in his stomach. it left a shaky feeling in his throat and the contents of his dinner were threatening to spill.

steve nodded, but he didn’t seem to be so bothered. “she’s not happy...obviously,” he sighed. “but i went without her for five years. i know this sounds awful, buck, trust me, i’m the one who had to tell her, but...i just sort of got used to life without her, as hard as it was.” meanwhile, bucky was still processing being alone all over again. “but you can have this place. sam will be here, and (y/n)...it’ll take time but i know she’ll heal. it’ll be okay.”

the next day, bucky noticed that (y/n) didn’t arrive to the lake house. she wasn’t there to wave steve goodbye, or to watch him return with gray hair and a wrinkled forehead, to hand off the shield to sam. it was hard to imagine how she felt--a man she’d abandoned her own life for now abandoned her. steve knew she had every right to be mad, but something about the way it didn’t even bother steve to leave her behind was infuriating. bucky had turned from the platform, ignoring sam’s yells of confusion and banner’s frustrated only to see a white-haired man sitting in front of the lake.

he wanted to run towards steve and wrap his arms around him, but the thought of her alone now angered the deepest pit in his stomach. bucky wanted to collide his fist into the old man’s cheek—steve’s been punched before, sure, he can take it again—but bucky froze. steve’s eyes were old and withered, and as heartbreaking as it was, they looked tired. the wrinkles on his cheeks and forehead showed he’d lived his life and experienced it well. and deep down, bucky knew it was what he deserved. but why’d he have to leave the people who loved him to do it?

―

(y/n) was seeing a world of crimson and blazing fire. everything in her mind was crumbling while everyone else celebrated reunions. families were brought back together, loved ones returned, but instead, she was left alone. steve rogers had taken her heart in his palm and toyed with it for seven long years. she’d followed him blindly and let him lead her through flames.when she’d returned, she could sense that time had passed. five years that could’ve been spent with steve—maybe even marrying and finding a home, starting a family—were gone. of course, that was the first thing that came to mind when (y/n) felt herself awaking from a sickening sleep. she had risen in the forest floor of wakanda and noticed bucky by her side, just as confused as she was. but instead of realizing the world needed saving, she thought of steve.

it’d been a month after tony’s funeral. she’d settled back into this new world rather well in her opinion and finally she had a peaceful life with the man she loved. a small apartment in brooklyn was a big enough home for (y/n) when steve was there with her. bucky even stayed during the nights. life felt...normal. she could get used to this. “you know i love you,” steve had told her one night. the tv had been quietly playing a stupid reality show that (y/n) had five years worth of season to catch up on. with his feet propped up on the couch, one arm on the back and one around her shoulders, he squeezed.

there was a giggle—one that steve hadn’t heard in half a decade and missed it dearly. “i know, stevie,” she smiled before popping a chip in her mouth. she offered one to steve, but when she turned to face him, (y/n) was met with a blank expression and a deeper one of discomfort. “hey, are you okay?” panic attacks had become frequent with steve—he’d been alone for so long and having everyone back all at once (while losing a few as well) was overwhelming. he nodded slowly before gently taking the bag of chips from her hold placing it on the coffee table. he switched the tv off and pulled (y/n) closer to him. her eyebrows knitted in confusion before he blurted,

“i need to go back.” from there on, she had no reaction. the salty taste of potato chips was gone and her throat was empty. whatever he said next was hard to hear as her hearing was muffled but the words were burned into (y/n)’s mind. “i don’t belong here, doll, you always knew that. i have the chance to go back, to have everything in a time where i should be. and honey...it’s been five years. i’ve been so alone for five years, it’s hard for you—and everyone else—to just come back like this.”she didn’t fight it. she didn’t argue or slap his chest, she didn’t bite her tongue or cry. there were words she threatened to scream—“i can help you through this”, “you belong with me”, “i can go back with you”, “how can you do this?”—but instead she kept in silence. her lips gently parted with a breath of air, but suddenly, the oxygen in the shared home felt toxic. and it was then she realized it.

steve always sugarcoated things. he could never be the one to tell someone they’ve been diagnosed with cancer; he’d do it so politely the person wouldn’t even realize it. it was in his dna to be kind. (y/n) used to think that steve had inherited it from his mother. but he wasn’t leaving because he belonged in the past. he wasn’t telling her this with honesty. steve rogers was an honest man but even when sugarcoating things he could lie. he was going back to be with peggy simply because he loved her more.

maybe that’s what hurt the most. she could deal with steve leaving—so many people in her life had left and she’d hoped he wouldn’t be one of them—but how was she supposed to live with the fact that his heart belonged to someone else? had peggy been holding his heart while he was holding (y/n)’s this entire time? it was lie that had its truth and she didn’t want any business in knowing it. so she left. gone that night while he slept on the couch. she didn’t even need to kick him out of the bedroom; steve always knew what was good for him. but when the clock read 12:00 in a harsh shade of red, (y/n) had jumped to the closet and began packing as much as she could fit into one large suitcase. she supposed that after he returned the stones and was reunited with his first love, she could come back to the apartment and retrieve the rest of her belongings. when she tip-toed past the living room and kitchen, slipping on a pair of shoes at the front door, there was a stinging her heart. she watched as he soundly slept, large arms clinging onto a thick pillow. steve’s lips let out the smallest snores that (y/n) once found sweet and gentle. but spending anymore time in that apartment would tear her apart, so the next second she was gone.

sure, there’s been at least fifty unanswered and stranded texts and calls left by sam and she had no intentions to respond. he was a constant reminder of a man that she used to (and still) loved. then, one day, she’d listened to the countless voicemails—and a special one left the news that steve had finally left. sam sounded frantic and upset but (y/n) knew there was content deep down that he felt for steve. “this is the life he deserved, i know that,” sam had sighed. “but i’m so sorry, (y/n). from the bottom of my heart and i know steve is too.”

his words meant nothing to her. no apology could mend whatever was left of (y/n). and she knew she wasn’t the only one hurting. instead of giving the apartment—the one that she and steve had bought together as a home—to her, steve gave it to bucky. she’d never gotten to know the ex-soldier, but how could steve, someone she spent seven years of her life with, leave her alone without even a place to stay? (y/n) was ultimately alone. she no longer had steve, along with tony and natasha. the three people she loved the most, one of them a man she thought she’d spend her life with, were gone. and the worst part was, there were people who were trying to comfort her so she wasn’t as alone. she’d managed to find a cramped apartment that, for some reason, always smelled like cheese, and sam would show up at the door with groceries or flowers every wednesday morning. sometimes, he’d stay outside and knock for an hour straight, but (y/n) was stubborn.

“you know, you’ve gotta out there someday,” steve’s voice would talk to her with that brooklyn drawl that she missed. “it’s not good to stayed cooped up like this. besides, i don’t think the air quality in this building isn’t the best, doll.” (y/n) would either shoo away the imprinted shadow he’d left behind in her mind or fall into its dark pit. “maybe none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t left me alone those five years”, “you just weren’t good enough”, “i had to go back, she’s just better than you are.” he’d spew harsh truths to her, ruining good dreams into nightmares and it was becoming constant. when (y/n) awoke in a cold sweat, the sight of steve—with golden hair and smooth skin—still burned in her mind, she’d pinch herself to remember that steve now had gray hair and wrinkles, and he’d lived his life with someone else.

fortunately, (y/n) wasn’t alone. bucky barnes was just as exhausted and isolated as she was. there were countless missions being via mail or through this strange thing “email”, but he hadn’t bothered to check them. he’d locked his doors and closed the blinds, bidding farewell to the outside world. bucky did deserve it--seventy years spent killing and hurting others without a sense of control for himself. he deserved to live peacefully. but it was hard for both (y/n) and bucky to do so when the image of steve rogers lived on in their minds.

bucky knew a life of loneliness wasn’t a life at all. he’d gone by himself for so long, and although he enjoyed staying inside the apartment that still slightly smelled like steve and being able to deny any source of socialization, he was aware that being alone would take its toll soon enough. it’d taken a few tries to get (y/n) to pick up the phone. the first time she had, she’d let it sit by her ear for three seconds before hanging up--three more tries later and a breakfast at the small diner three blocks away was planned.

bucky had been sitting patiently at a booth with incredibly uncomfortable seating, causing him to rapidly jump his foot up and down. he’d worn a black hoodie with ripped hems around the cuffs, but as long as it covered up the metal arm, he was fine. there was a jingling sound as the front door opened and a hissing as it shut. sunlight poured from behind (y/n), casting an elongated shadow across the cliche checkered floor that reminded bucky of his first life.

she wore discreet and dark clothing--something incredibly unlike her. her combat boots hit the tiles with gentle footsteps but something about (y/n)’s entrance set a tension in the air and every person in the restaurant could feel it. however, she walked past them unnoticeably. it’s her job. bucky reminded himself, but felt a little spiral in his stomach when she sat herself down across from him. there was a strand of hair that fell from behind her ear, and it complimenting the frame of her face but she was quick to brush it back.

at first, it was silent--so silent that their ears picked up even the smallest conversations of other customers and waitresses. they scanned over the plastic menus, took occasional sips from their waters, and earned suspicious stairs from their waiter. “breakfast or lunch?” bucky had muttered, looking above his menu to peek at (y/n). her expression hadn’t changed since she entered the diner.

“you choose,” she shrugged, leaning back in the booth and slapping the menu shut. “not that hungry, though.”

he uncomfortably nodded and shifted in his seat before picking his order. their waitress--a short girl with curly blonde hair pulled back into a slick bun with tiny fly-aways, dressed in a cheesy pink dress--returned to their table. “d’you know what you want to order?” she giddily smiled, covering the suspicions she had; why were there two avengers in the restaurant...and why did they look so sad? (y/n) looked up threw the corner of her eye to the waitress name badge. it read ‘peggy’ in capitalized golden letters, and (y/n) suddenly felt sick. thankfully, bucky noticed her discomfort.

“just the eggs and toast,” he politely smiled, but there was a sting in his heart as well and it was getting harder to ignore. “over medium.” he looked over to the girl across him and motioned for her to talk.

“just another water,” (y/n) deeply gritted, barely even moving her lips to speak. her eyes burned into the table and peggy was quick to return to the kitchens. the former avenger clenched the plastic pepsi cup in her hand and spun it around so the melting ice inside clinked against the edges. bucky’s eyes didn’t leave her frame.

he leaned forward on his elbows and held his right hand his metal one he’d covered with a glove. it definitely looked odd to be wearing one glove inside when the summer air was returning, but it was better than the stares he’d get if he revealed the prosthetic. “don’t you think you should eat something, (y/n)?” bucky gently pushed, leaning even closer to make some sort of eye contact. her arms were smaller, her cheeks were hollow, and her jaw protruded from her neck. she covered it well with a bulky sweatshirt but her entire frame was thinner.

with another small shrug, she swished the water around before taking a small sip. it was chilling the back of her throat when a tiny piece of ice made it past her lips. “don’t like breakfast food.” it was a lie and bucky knew it. although (y/n) had been tried to lie her whole life, he wasn’t stupid. her lips slightly twitched to the left with her fabrication. and if there was one thing bucky did know, it was that steve rogers was a believer in good breakfast food. bucky could imagine the countless morning meals he cooked himself for (y/n), but the soldier didn’t push her to talk about it. both were in pain, it was evident to anyone who walked past them. “why am i here?”

“i thought we could talk,” bucky’s shoulders relaxed with the quietest sigh. the sudden aroma of bacon frying and the sizzling of fried eggs filled the restaurant, adding onto the white noise flowing through his ears. “it’s been a month, and i know you don’t want to see him-” your eyes snapped to his and he held his hands up cautiously. “i won’t make you. because i understand.” her left eyebrows arched. “he left both of us. i know sam’s dealing with it, but it’s not hurting him the same, hun,” she internally cringed at the name. “i think--and there’s a chance i’m reaching too far, if i am, just tell me--but we’re sharing the same situation. maybe we can help each other through it.”

before (y/n) could even being to process his offer, peggy returned with a large plate of steaming eggs and bacon. she set it in front of bucky, along with three small packets of butter, and in front of (y/n) a second glass of water. once she returned to her other tables, bucky harshly cut into an egg with his left arm, releasing a screeching noise of metal against porcelain. there was a dark line against the plate and he set the knife down. “still getting used to it,” he motioned to the arm with a hesitant laugh. (y/n) responded with a nod.

“but i’m serious. it’s not this good to be alone, i should know,” he lathered one side of his toast with the pale yellow-colored butter, watching it melt into the grain. “we don’t have to talk about him. although, it might pay off at some point...but what do you say?”

everything was spinning inside (y/n)’s mind. the voices partaking in other conversations were drowning out with the clinking of forks and knives, the bustling in the kitchens, and the clinking of the cash register. eventually, they all began to mix together and soon enough, bucky’s plate was empty. he allowed (y/n) to sit in the silence of their discussion blended with other various noises. the ice in their waters had finally melted so that the drinks became room-temperature and were now untouched. however long they’d been there, they didn’t know. it had been a while since (y/n) was able to sit in peaceful quiet with another person without the constant questioning of steve rogers. 

outside the window, the sun was lowering in the sky, hanging by just a thread. (y/n) wasn’t exactly sure about everything going on in her mind, but she found a sense of calm in the man across from her. the new haircut suited him well, sharpening his jaw and chin already more so than before. his stubble contrasted the image of a clean-shaven man that sat inside her mind, but the blue eyes were the same. “sure,” she tried to smile, but pathetically curved her lips in an unflattering way. however, bucky’s heart fluttered. (y/n) extended her arm towards him with her hand flat out.

“friends.”

―

tags: @babyyhoneyydarling @honeysucklesteve @emmabarnes @fallinforevans @saint-bvcky @steverrogers @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @rxcklessly-bratty @brattycherubwrites @hevans-angel @geniedetails @inactivewhore @steebsbabygirl @sultrygoblin @learisa @nony-bear @cloudystevie

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan series #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan drabble #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers series #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers smut #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It's final

Dedicated to my best friend K, who exclusively reads angst (yes I know she is crazy).

Warnings: domestic disputes, panic attacks & mental breakdowns.

Ao3

———————————————

“Why are you such a fucking bitch?”

She froze, her anger steeled within her. Their argument was abruptly silenced, both tempers flaring high enough to threaten the heavens. Heaving breaths from their vocal exertions became louder than their previous yelling. A pang of fear struck her heart as she wonders whether the neighbours had heard them and called the police for a domestic dispute.

Marinette was furious. She wasn’t a saint during this war of words, and had said somethings she shouldn’t have. She had started this argument with the intentions of lessening his reckless behaviour, but ended up stating in anger that his mother would be stopping his behaviour too. That line lead to his outburst and the state they were in now.

Cheeks flushed red, particles of perspiration dotted their skin, bodies wound with tension. She swiftly motioned towards the door, hand reaching to the knob. Jason grabbed her other wrist, deep seated sadness displayed over his features, immediately regretting his words spoken by ire. Her head tilted downwards, stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it,” his voice cracked, any traces of rage had melted into sorrow.

“You never do, but it hurts the same.” She shook her arm, detaching his hand from her wrist. His grip was firm but unwilling to deny her, her free will. She picked up her purse, slinging the strap over her shoulder. The door opened, she could feel his stare on the back of his head. Her sigh filled the empty space, without turning she said, “I think it’s better that we seperate, we aren’t good for each other. I’m willing to keep up appearances with your family at the gala but then I’ll move my belongings to another apartment.”

She turned around, rushing into his embrace, tears shed from her eyes. A final hug goodbye. His stray tears raced down his cheeks to reach their raven hair finish line. He made no move to respond to her hug. Usually he’d have wrapped her in his arms, especially after an argument like this. But this one was different. This would be their last.

“Au revior, Jason.” She removed her body from his. It left him wanting to pull her back but it was as if his muscles had necrotic back to a corpse. His eyes flicked down to his invisible chains, begging his arms to move, to capture his lightning bug and never let her go. He looked back at her, she stood there, seemingly wanting him to say something, anything.

“I’m sorry.” His hoarse voice whispered, he desperately wanted to pepper her face with kisses and beg her to forgive a cretin like him. His voice broke as he uttered, “Please.”

Blue eyes met blue eyes. Marinette’s head shook slightly, non-verbally denying him. A bitter laugh escaped her mouth, she brought up her hand cover her crazed smile. “I’m sorry too.” She sobbed.

She rushed out the door, practically sprinting to the elevator. As the strong metal door closed, her sobbed echoed around the empty box. She broke down, months of fights and building tensions had weighed her down, her creativity had been primarily funnelled into ways she could improve her relationship. Il vaut mieux prévenir que guérir (It is better to prevent than to heal).

When the door closed Jason’s knees collapsed, a hollow echo resounded through the hallway. Their shared apartment would be no longer. No more hello, good bye kisses; no more delicious meals shared between the two; no more sleepy morning kisses. He looked down at his hands, clenched fists. A primal cry left his throat, he felt it to his core. He would have rather had his heart ripped out, he would have rather have died again, than to feel this pain.

——

It was the night of the gala, only four days after their fight. Marinette had only come back to their condo once to collect some clothes and her sewing machine. Only the essentials were taken, the rest could be gathered by movers.

Jason was a wreck. He had worked multiple overtime shifts to avoid the festering wound that was his bleeding heart. Preparing for his family’s ball was tough, this would be the first time they would see each other since the argument. He sported a fresh haircut which was left messy, his white button down top hugged his muscles perfectly, was paired with a slate grey blazer and matching dress pants (both gifts from Marinette).

He was fiddling with his tie, the gala’s atmosphere was already suffocating due to insufferable and rich hotshots, and his tie decided that he didn’t need to breathe. Marinette didn’t care for appearances but knew his family lived under the watchful eye of the media, so she always made sure they were matching. But tonight, tonight he had no clue what she was wearing and had received no colour matching instructions, so he went with trusty rusty red. It was the first thing the fashionista made for him and he will always cherish it.

His eyes widened as he saw her enter. She wore a midnight silk black mermaid gown that had a chiffon overskirt that was black fading to blood red. Her hair was down and curled, a silver feather hair clip pinned back the left side of her hair, exposing her magnificent facial features. Cerulean eyes framed by dark painted lashes, scanned the room.

Her heart caught in her throat, she had entered the doors to the banquet hall. She came with the intention of saying her silent goodbyes to the family who had taken her in when she had no one else. She had been suffering in silence for the past few days, her only support system being the Wayne Clan, but couldn’t bring herself to tell them what had happened. She couldn’t do that to Jason, she wouldn’t make them choose between him and her, she dreaded to hear their answers. Resigning herself to reside in silence, she came here to keep up appearances then fade into obscurity, but she saw him and her breath died in her throat. He looked as handsome as the day she left him. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. She walked towards him; he spotted her and did the same. They met in the middle, on the dance floor.

“You look amazing Marinette.” He swallowed the urge to call her pixie, it hung heavy in his throat. He needed to create distance between them, that was the first advice in ‘How to be civil after a breakup’. During the silent nights, he delved into any written text that would give him refuge and advice.

“You too Jason.” The pit in his stomach grew, he should have known she would take the same path. Never would he hear ‘Jay’ or ‘Jayjay’ from her plump red lips again. His shoulders slumped a fraction before he shooed away his depressing thoughts.

Their conversing was viewed by many around the room. They were the odd couple of the family. Jason, despite his rich adoptive home worked in security and charity whilst Marinette was a hardworking fashionista who had built her own fashion empire. They were from two different worlds and only fate knew that they’d meet.

He bowed and held out a hand to her, a lopsided smiled danced across his face. She smiled sadly, she would miss her dork, she would miss his smile. Her hand brushed against his calloused palm, their fingers locked together. She hesitated before placing a hand on his shoulder, ‘just one dance’, she could do this.

His hand found her waist, warmth bloomed upon his cold skin. He was always cold since he died, only his temper had warmed him. But then he met her. Marinette was his warmth, she made him feel like he was a child again, bathing in Gotham’s rare sunlight. His lightning bug brought him warmth and he had lost it.

They swayed to the classic instrumental melody. Neither looked at each other as their bodies flowed, ‘it was just an act’, they chanted as a mantra within their minds. ‘It means nothing, soon this will be over’. It struck her, this would be the final time they would see each other. A quiet sob escaped her, she was unable to do anything to stop it.

Jason’s head snapped towards her, sweeping her away into a private garden. Between her weeping she apologised for the state she was in, hyperventilating soon after. Jason guided her to a bench and clasped her hands in his.

“Hey, hey! Mari look at me. Deep breaths in and out, ok?.” Screw creating distance, this was his girl, he will fight anyone who says otherwise. Marinette slowly began to wind down from her panic attack, eyes misty and her water-proof mascara blotchy but still intact. The temperamental man wiped her cheeks free from trails of liquid fright.

“I’m so sorry for everything Jason. I never should have said that thing about your mother, that was cruel. I can’t keep hurting the people I care about. I can’t keep you happy. I’m just not enough.”

Her cries broke down his own walls, exposing his vulnerability to the Gotham night. “Fuck the word enough. It’s synonyms: sufficient, ample and adequate, could never describe what you mean to me.” He pressed his forehead on her, blue eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not sure if any of us will ever be enough for anything. There’s no point in begging for it.”

“I hate goodbyes.” She whispered, lips inches from his. Their breaths mingled, cheeks flushing. The icy Gotham air whipped at their skin causing them to move closer to the other for sanctuary.

“Then let’s not make this one.” Fireworks. That’s what they felt when their lips connected. All of the week’s tension unraveled within this lip lock. Their teeth clashed and hands tugged at hair in desperation to close the distance between them. When she entered the gala tonight, she had been so ready to say, ‘adieu pour toujours,’ but was glad she didn’t need to.

C’est cela l’amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans es poir de retour. (This is love, giving it ones all, sacrificing everything without hope of it being returned.)

#maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #Jasonette #Jason x Marinette #Marinette x Jason #angst #Marinette is no saint #things were said that they can never take back

[thisisarcanereverie]

Should’ve Known Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either I just got it from Pinterest,

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, the stages of grief, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out. Also mentions of potential abortions.

WORDS : 2,329

SUMMARY: You are detained and questioned by S.W.O.R.D. Wanda reality is breaking and Vision is acting differently than she remembers.  

In case you missed last chapter

series masterlist 

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST 

You stared at the plain and depressing wall in front of you. If anyone saw you they would say you were staring into dead space but that wasn’t true. 

Your thoughts were consumed of Wanda and the baby. 

You didn’t plan on giving up on Wanda, she had woken up, it wasn’t long until her reality came crashing down on her and you needed to be there for her. You needed to help her with the pieces that were going to be left behind. 

Your hand rested on top of your stomach, gently brushing a thumb over the shirt. You didn’t know what the doctors did to you while you were unconscious, but you were certain that eventually they would find out if they hadn’t already. You still had mixed feelings about this pregnancy. You knew deep down it was likely the only time you will be pregnant and you can’t lie, already you felt a connection with the child even though at this point they were only a little clump of cells. 

This kid would be special, you felt it oddly enough. You immediately wanted to apologize even though it couldn’t hear you. You wanted to apologize for the life that they might have to live if that were the case. 

You remembered all the somber nights at the Avengers Tower and Compound. All the nights Steve told you he sort of missed being that boy from Brooklyn who always picked a fight he couldn’t win. He told you if he had known what would happen when he accepted the role of Captain America. He probably still would have done it, but still live on to regret it. 

Wanda had told you that she could never truly let go, she can never fully release all the emotions she kept bottled up. That people got hurt. That if she could go back and never sign up for HYDRA’s experiments, she would.

None of them wanted the life that they were forced into. Yeah some of them had volunteered like Wanda and Steve, but they didn’t fully realize the consequences of such actions then. 

Nat and Bucky never wanted this life, never signed on for it. 

Your child would be forced to the same fate if you allowed the pregnancy. 

You considered aborting the fetus, maybe it was better for it to never live than be born into this world. 

Were you even ready to be a mom? You had money saved up but that was for rent and the last of Steve’s avenging money that he had left behind. 

Steve. 

The kid would never know their father. Steve would always be that blank figure to them. That blank figure would be filled with so many questions and doubts. Everything but him. 

You didn’t want your kid to look at that blank spot and only think of what might have been or hate. You didn’t want them to think their dad left them because they didn’t love them. 

You thought back to the chair splintering under your hand when you remembered the pregnancy. 

You could easily hurt them and the thought alone terrified you. 

There were so many reasons on why you shouldn’t keep it, how maybe it was better this way. 

On the other hand you wanted to keep it. 

You wanted to be a mom. Or at least give it a shot, at least for this kid. Maybe you would break the cycle of abuse that either your parents or grandparents started. 

There was no maybe about it. 

You would. 

You had to. 

Rationally you knew you wouldn’t be a perfect mom and the kid wouldn’t have that perfect life you always wanted, but that didn’t matter. This kid would have their own life to live, their own adventures, their own highs and falls. This kid would have something that you didn’t receive and that alone would make all the difference. 

They’ll have their mother.

-

-

-

Wanda didn’t know when all of this started. The endless pit of nothingness consumed her and that was it. She remembers everything thus far, the black and white changing into colors. You support her through it all just as you did before. 

She wished she didn’t have to send you away but she had no other choice. You brought her back, made her remember that none of this was real. 

Wanda made a different version of you, it was simple enough, it was a simple illusion. You were there, but not there. 

This version of you was happy all the time, was her closest confidant, all the things she wanted you to be. Like how you used to be before Steve had left. 

Steve did a number on you just like Vision did with her. Steve left you in a different manner than Vision left her but the emotional toll it took was very much the same. 

Steve left you on his own terms, he was selfish and left everyone who was counting on him to return. For that Wanda would never trust Steve, real or not real, again. 

Vision didn’t have a choice, Thanos had taken that choice away from him. 

Wanda could feel her blood begin to boil at the thought of Thanos, wishing that she could have finished what she had started on that battlefield then. 

Avenging Vision. 

Wanda recalls the nightmares she had when she came back, the image of Vision's eyes turning milky white and the stone being ripped from his head and the way his head caved in. You would always hold her, you would always assure her that you were fine and that she hadn’t hurt you during the nightmares. She knew you lied but the thought that you cared enough that you didn’t mind her or getting hurt in the process helped a lot more than you would ever know. 

After the funeral Wanda didn’t know she was going to bring you back to her apartment. She didn’t know how more precious you would become to her after living with her. Wanda came to depend on you a lot more than she intended. At first she wanted to be kind, she knew the pain you were going through and didn’t want you to be alone. You didn’t deserve to be alone. 

Then you began to heal together, you sat with her while she was on the other end of the phone lines waiting for answers and filling out paperwork she needed to sign to legally locate Vision. You hugged her during her nightmares, even though her powers had more than once flown something dangerously close to your head. 

Wanda had held your hand when she helped you move out of the apartment you and Steve shared. She was simply there when you needed her to be. 

Wanda grew curious easily, after the first few nights she was tempted to look into your mind. She had mastered the art of doing it without anyone knowing. However, she wanted you to tell her, she promised herself to never use her powers on your mind. 

Now she had broken that promise and made you play your part in this reality, the best friend. Wanda didn’t read your mind but she had played with it. She had played with something so fragile and even when you woke up from her illusions you didn’t care about that. You had only cared about comforting her, about bringing her back from the waves. 

Wanda had no idea what she could possibly have done to deserve someone as loyal as you were in her life. 

But now she’s sent you away, like she did with Garladine. 

She walked into her home that she shared with Vision, her heart filled with something so bitter and so sweet when she looked at him. Like she was seeing the sun after a whole week of only rain and snow but knowing tomorrow there would only be more rain and snow. 

Vision turned around upon hearing the door close, Wanda was expecting to see him with that light and lovely look in his eyes just as he’s always done. She nearly stopped in her tracks when she saw instead nervousness and caution. He didn’t look at her the way Vision had always looked at her, or hell even how you looked at her. 

He looked at her the way that everyone else has looked at her before. 

Like she was going to hurt him. 

“Vision,” she called her voice as sweet as honey, “is everything alright.” Her husband flinched back when she tried to reach for him as though her touch had become poisonous. 

“I spoke to Norm,” He said his arms were crossed over his chest. His face contorted into a neutral state. Wanda felt unsettled, she felt him become reserved. 

“Oh?” she said not knowing what about talking to Norm would make him act this way. 

“I unearthed the man’s suppressed personality and I spoke to him free of your oversight.” 

-

-

-

“Hello Miss. (L/n),” You didn’t bother looking away from the wall, already whoever came in here was on your nerves. 

‘Miss. (L/n) we need you to answer some questions about the Hex.” You looked over and saw a man with the most punchable face you’ve ever laid eyes on. His tone may be nice but you met enough men like him to know how to spot them a mile away. 

“Only if you answer a few of my own.” You retort, you saw how the man stiffened. 

“I don’t think you're in a position to be demanding anything Miss. (L/n)” 

“You wouldn’t have come to ask me anything personally if you didn’t need to. Unless there was something that I may or may not know that could benefit you and even then you wouldn’t have come yourself, men like you have people get the answers for you, no you would only come yourself if it was something vital. Something that no one else on this base knows about.” You cock your head to the side and smile, feeling empowered as you see his hands tighten into a fit at his side. You apparently hit the nail right on the head. 

“So I feel like an exchange is in order,” You say standing up from your sitting position. The guards on either side of the man raised their guns at you. The man told them to stand down. 

“I answer 5 of your questions and you answer 6 of mine.” You held out your hand. 

“Miss. (L/n) why do you get to have more answers than I do?”

“Simple, you want something from me and me alone. I can ask any other agents around here my questions and not make a deal with you at all.” 

His hands flex and ball themselves back into fists and his jaw clenched in anger. You really were getting on his nerves. 

“I agree,” he reaches for your hand and shakes briefly. 

“I’ll go first,” he says. 

“How long were you in the Hex?”

“I’m not too sure of that but it’s safe to assume that I was there since it happened.” you responded, memories of the Hex were confusing and the memories of that day were blacked out almost completely. 

“My turn,” you say. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Director Tyler Hayward of S.W.O.R.D.” 

“My turn,” he says in a slight mocking tone.

“How did Wanda create the Hex?”

“Wanda’s powers are tied to her emotions; it's probably connected to that” You state. “What is S.W.O.R.D.” 

“Sentient Worlds Observation and Response Department.” He responds. 

“Someone really wanted your divisions to be named Sword and Shield really badly didn’t they.” 

“Yes,” he said, “How long were you aware of the Hex while in it?”

“I was subconsciously aware the entire time, although I wasn’t completely aware until the Hex was in color and a hag gave me a notebook.”

His expression was puzzled but he dismissed it. 

“What did my lab results come back with?” 

“Why do you think we took blood from you while you were unconscious?”

“You're a powerful man who set up a meeting with me in secret to ask me a question you don’t want anyone else hearing. It’s not beyond you to secretly steal some blood to run secret tests on it.” 

“Touche,” he admitted, “however badly I would want that Agent Rambeau interrupted me before I could give the order.” 

Finally he reached the last question, the question he wanted to ask all along. 

“How did Wanda reboot the Vision?” 

Vision, he was after Vision. Somehow this made you uneasy, why would he care how Vision for rebooted unless...

“You have Visions body don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, his body gave him away. For a man who was running a semi secret organization he wasn’t that good at hiding his body language. 

“I believe you didn’t answer my question Miss. (L/n), “ he pointed out, “I guess that means one less answer for you.”

You rolled your eyes, you would let him have that. 

“I don’t know how she rebooted Vision, much less without a body, I don’t remember much of the day it happened.” His eyes hardened, upset that he had hit another dead end he went to leave. 

“I still have one more question Haybitch!” You called out, his feet stilled and he turned to you, eyes wide and offended at the nickname. 

“What are you planning on doing to Wanda?” That was the question you wanted to ask. His eyes crinkled as he gave you a sarcastic smile. 

“I don’t know,” he said, “I don’t remember much of that meeting when it happened.”

He then left you to wallow in your own thoughts. 

You knew he had a secret he didn’t want anyone else finding out. 

You knew Wanda knew it. 

You knew he wasn’t going to let her talk. 

You knew whatever his plan was involved her not being able to speak again.

#should've known #marvel #wanda marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wandavision #wanda and pietro #steve rodger #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x you #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine

[love-and-monsters]

Cavern and Foe

M elf X GN reader, 8,276 words.

After coming across a sworn enemy and shooting him, you both fall into an underground cavern. The only way out is to work together. If, of course, you can manage it. 

You unfurled yourself from your hunting crouch and headed a few steps further into the forest. It was unnaturally quiet in the dusk, and you could feel your stomach grinding hungrily against your ribs- it had been hours since your last meal at dawn, but you still hadn’t managed to catch anything. The only animal you had managed to hit with your arrow had been a deer, and that had only been in the flank. Generally, your ritehood was not going well.

It would be another week and a half before you were allowed back in your village. Hunting wasn’t strictly necessary for the ritehood; there were plenty of people before you who had survived on a diet of plants alone, whether by choice or necessity. But an unwillingness or inability to bring down prey did preclude you from your chosen profession.

You wanted to be a warrior. And that meant proving that you were strong and skilled enough to become one.

Something rustled the undergrowth behind you. You shifted your weight, turning your body toward the noise without making any of your own. With only the smallest, most delicate motions, you removed an arrow from your quiver and threaded it. There were precious few of them left- you were going to need to make this shot count.

The rustling moved closer to you. You squinted through the woods, trying to make out the shape moving between the trees. It was tall. Perhaps a bear? Taking down one of those would surely confirm your path as a warrior. But it would have to be fairly young to be so quiet- bears were usually much heavier.

You caught a glimpse of tanned skin through the trees and loosed your arrow. It plunged straight and true into the flesh of your target.

The scream that went up made your hair stand on end. It was full of raw agony, a nearly human scream, but with a razor-sharp edge that made it sound a little like a wildcat’s. Your heart leapt. A cougar, perhaps? That would earn you a warrior position, surely. Barely breathing, you plunged through the woods toward your target.

What you saw made you stumble to a graceless stop.

It looked almost like a person, wearing off-white robes with an embroidered neckline. From its head, poking through its black hair, rose a crown of short, bone white horns. Its ears were long and pointed, extending almost past the back of its head.

An elf. You whipped out your bow and pointed an arrow at its throat. An elf. With its head, you would be the most respected member of your town. You could be a warrior, if you wanted; you would probably be given a high-ranking position right off the bat. Who would deny you, after you had killed one of your people’s greatest enemies?

The victory was already singing sweet inside your head, so you were too distracted to notice the elf’s tail whipping across the ground. It hooked your ankle with a surprisingly strong grip for its thin size and yanked.

Your feet went from underneath you. Only barely did you manage to catch yourself on your elbows, and by the point, the elf was on his feet, sprinting back into the forest.

Rage flashed through you. In seconds, you were on your feet, plunging after him. You could see him darting between trees and scrambling through the undergrowth. Bright spots of blood stood out against the deep green of the forest, guiding you after him.

He was slowing down, stumbling more and more. The splotches of blood were growing bigger- running seemed to be making the injury worse. You were right behind him, gaining on him with every step. Without breaking your stride, you pulled your bow off your back and nocked an arrow. You trained your sight on him. All you needed to do was get one good hit- just one.

And, before you could blink, he dropped out of sight.

Confused, you staggered, trying to kill your momentum. Where had he-

And then you pitched into the same pit he’d fallen down.

You felt yourself hit the ground in slow motion. One of your arms twisted underneath you. There was a split second of stomach-turning horror where you heard and felt your bone crunch as you landed on it. Then there was one second of nothing.

And then the pain hit you.

Agony. You couldn’t move your arm. You couldn’t fathom moving it. There was nothing to move. Your arm was nothing more than a white-hot blaze of pain. It made your stomach churn with the awfulness of it and you rolled onto your belly so you could vomit. Sobs and dry heaves mingled together, leaving your body convulsing and trembling.

Time lost all meaning for a while, but eventually, you got used to the pain. It was still there, but you were able to take one small part of your brain away from screaming in agony and figure out what was happening.

You were in some kind of small cave. The hole you had fallen through was distant above you, far enough away that you could blot it out with the palm of your hand. The room curved upward, like an inverted bowl. It was only the size of a small room, perhaps ten feet across. Sitting across the room, glaring at you, was the elf you had just been chasing.

There was a long, awkward silence. He was clutching at his shoulder, blood pumping slowly down his front. You moved instinctively for your bow, but froze when you touched it- it had been smashed upon landing, no more than splinters and string. Not that it mattered- you weren’t shooting one handed. With your good hand, you fumbled for your knife, but you weren’t excited about your chances- the broken arm was your strong arm, and you were pretty sure that even injured, he would be able to wrestle the knife away from you.

“It would seem we are at a stalemate,” the elf said. His voice was slightly accented and rather soft. “You cannot kill me, I have no desire to kill you, and we are not getting out of here any time soon.”

You glared at him from across the room, as much as you could manage. It was hard to stop your expression from twisting into a grimace of pain. “Maybe you’re giving up. I’m going to climb out.”

The elf somehow managed to make an eyebrow raise look sarcastic, but he said nothing else. Cradling your broken arm, you examined the wall. Unfortunately, the hole you had fallen through appeared to be roughly at the apex of a dome. Attempting to scale it would mean pretty big sections where you hung nearly upside down, a feat that would be difficult with two functional arms. With only one still working, it was nearly impossible.

That didn’t mean you weren’t going to give it a try. There were a few rocks that jutted out from the wall, creating solid footholds. You braced your good arm against the wall and started to climb.

Your fingers slipped from the stone when you were only couple of feet above the ground. You struck the ground hard, knocking the wind out of your lungs. For a moment, you just lay there, gasping and choking as pain radiated up your broken arm.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to sit up and you risked a glance at your broken arm. You had been avoiding looking at it, mostly out of fear.

Your stomach twisted as you looked at it. The bone had shifted against your skin. It hadn’t broken through, but you could see the unsettling jut of it, twisting the shape of your arm. It took several deep breaths and staring determinedly at the ground before you could settle your stomach.

“You’ll need to set that.” The elf sound smug. “It’ll be useless until then, and worse than useless if it heals like this.”

You looked down at your arm again. Experimentally, you probed it with your fingertips. The pain was bad enough that your vision hazed over for a moment, leaving you trembling and gasping on the ground.

When you came back to yourself, the elf was tearing strips of his toga apart. He wound the strips around the gash in his shoulder, tying it off. The movement of the arm seemed limited, but it was leagues better than yours. He paced slowly along his side of the room, resting his fingers against the wall. You followed the motion of his tail. His expression was smooth and unperturbed, but his tail whipped and coiled behind him, twining close to his legs.

Time slipped by with agonizing slowness. You could only tell it was passing because the light filtering into the cave was gradually growing dimmer. Your stomach growled, adding its own complaint to the aches and pains you were already feeling. You had been trying not to move, since that only seemed to aggravate your broken arm, but finally, driven by your groaning stomach, you shifted to look for your pack.

The elf watched you as you grabbed for your bag. It was small, but it contained a few days’ worth of rations. Looking at them made your nerves flare. There wasn’t enough to last you until your arm healed, and even if it had, you weren’t sure it was going to help. Your arm was not healing properly without being set, and every tiny touch made a nauseating wave of pain roll through you. You weren’t setting it on your own, and if your arm wasn’t set, you weren’t climbing out. Starvation was inevitable. It was only a matter of time.

Your stomach growled and you reached fumblingly for the food with your non-dominant hand. Fuck it. Might as well eat. Nothing would be solved by going hungry. You ripped into one of the strips of dried meat. Ugh. If it was going to be your last meal, you really wished it could have been something that tasted better.

“You have food?” The elf had gone still on the other side of the cave. One of his arms was pressed to his middle, like he was trying to massage away hunger pains. He was staring fixedly at you. In the dim light of the cave, his cheeks looked sallow and his eyes, sunken. Was he starving? You pulled the food bag tighter against your chest. Would you be able to hold him off if he decided to charge? He seemed to be thinking the same thing, eyes flicking over you. You might be able to get a few good kicks in, and if you got a lucky shot on his injury, you could probably incapacitate him. But he could easily incapacitate you, too. It was all up to luck. And neither of you were willing to take that chance.

The tension went out of him after a moment and he slumped against the wall, still staring at your bag. Your eyes drifted to the tight bandage at his shoulder. “Do you know how to set a broken bone?” you asked.

He looked at you cautiously. “I am aware of how to do it. I’ve never actually done it, though.”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” you said. “Set my arm and I’ll give you something to eat.”

His eyes drifted from your bag to you, then back to the bag. “And how are you going to stop me from twisting your arm and stealing the bag?” he asked.

“I’ve still got my knife on me,” you said, indicating the blade at your hip. “If you reach for the bag, I’ll have just enough time to gut you before you grab it.”

He eyed the knife. “And how do I know you’re not going to try to stab me the second I get within range?”

“Because then I’m not getting out of here either. I need my arm set. And you need to eat. We both need this. I’m not going to be stupid about this if you’re not.” The elf looked at you for a moment, weighing his options, then nodded.

He approached you slowly, eyes scanning your every move. You held as still as possible, keeping your hands low and nonthreatening. When he reached you, he crouched at your side, turning his body away from you. It was clear he was trying to keep any vulnerable points away from you.

His hands brushed your arm and you gave a strangled groan. “Usually, you’d set it with some sort of stick or piece of wood to keep the bone straight as it heals,” the elf said. “But I don’t have any of that.”

You glanced around. Your bow had chunks of wood that were as long as your forearm, but they were all curved. “Arrows,” you said. “I have a couple. Will those work?”

The elf lifted your quiver and slid one of the arrows free. He examined it for a moment, then deftly snapped off the tip and dropped it on the ground. You grimaced. The elf ripped at the hem of his clothes, tearing off another long strip of fabric. When he had a long enough chunk, he lay the fabric and arrow together and took your arm in his hands. Despite everything, his touch was soft and gentle, barely brushing your skin.

“The bone is out of place. I’ll have to shift it back in,” he said. “I can’t guarantee it’ll heal perfectly.”

“I’m good with good enough,” you said. You turned your head away. Looking at your arm was starting to make you feel sick. “Just go for it.”

“Hold on.” He reached down and seized another arrow. After snapping off the tip again, he pressed the body of the arrow to your lips. “Bite on it. It’ll hurt.”

You seized the arrow in your teeth. He nodded and looked back down at your arm. “All right. Three… t-” He hadn’t even finished saying two before he was pressing on your broken arm.

Your vision went white. Agony blazed through your brain. You couldn’t think. Distantly, you thought you could hear someone screaming. There was the vague sense that you were thrashing around. But you couldn’t be sure. The pain commanded all of your attention.

Slowly, the pain diminished. It didn’t go away, but you started being able to have coherent thoughts around it. You were lying down, sweat soaking into the dirt. Fine tremors ran over your body. The elf was sitting over you, looking ruffled.

“You kicked me,” he said. His voice was winded and, as your senses returned, you realized he was clutching his side.

“Sorry,” you said. Your voice was raspy and your throat protested even the simple aspect of talking. You’d said it reflexively, but to your surprise, you realized you were actually sorry. Genuinely, you hadn’t meant to hurt him. “You could, uh, kick me back.” It was a stupid thing to say, but you had said it so often to your siblings that it was nearly automatic. To your surprise, the elf laughed.

“I won’t.” He let out a slow breath. “Don’t move your arm. It’s bound, but it’s not stable. Arrows aren’t the best for splinting.”

Your arm was still throbbing bad enough to make your stomach turn, but you had enough wherewithal to turn and grab your bag. “Here,” you said, thrusting it at him. “Take some.”

He looked at you cautiously, then reached into the bag and started rummaging through your food. It would have been easy for him to drag the entire bag away from you. There was no way you were in enough of a shape to stop him. Instead, he pulled out a tied-off bag of dried fruit and laid the bag back at your feet. Transaction concluded, he retreated to his side of the cave.

It was rapidly getting darker in the cave. The sun was setting, and any light that you once had was fading. You shivered. The cave was chilly. Usually, you managed nights in the woods with a fire, but there was no wood and you weren’t quite desperate enough to sacrifice your clothes. Instead, you lay back on the dirt ground and did your best to cover your body with a coat. Shivering sucked. It made your arm ache even worse. Gradually, the cave dimmed into pitch blackness.

Despite your exhaustion, sleep refused to come. The sickening pain of your broken arm notwithstanding, every noise from across the cave made your eyes snap open again. Could he see you? There were rumors about elves having dark vision. If you fell asleep, it would be simple for him to steal your knife and slit your throat.

Your paranoia kept you from engaging in any but the lightest of sleep. The slightest sound brought you back to full wakefulness, and you never really lost consciousness. You only drifted in the dim, dreamy area between wakefulness and sleep.

Morning came to find you stiff, exhausted, and in a worse mood than you had been in the night. The pain in your arm was more insistent, a constant throbbing that shoved its way to the forefront of your mind. The elf appeared to be in only moderately better shape. He was holding his arm in a strange way, suggesting that his own wound had stiffened overnight, though he looked better rested.

Slowly and uncomfortably, you pushed yourself into a sitting position. The elf watched you, caution in every line of his body. You ignored him, instead scrounging in your bag for breakfast. Rationing was probably a good idea, so despite your weakness, you only ate a few strips of dried meat and a piece of hard biscuit. It barely filled the aching void of your stomach. Trying to distract yourself, you started fussing with the bandages on your arm.

“What do you think you’re doing, idiot?” the elf hissed at you. You paused, looking up at him. He had shifted closer to glare at you. “I went to all that trouble to bind your arm and you’re just screwing it up!”

Irritation flared in your chest. “I am not screwing it up! I’m making it tighter!”

He snorted. “Sure. Just don’t expect me to rebind it again when it comes apart. I’m not looking to get injured by you again.”

The anger grew brighter and hotter. Frustration at being trapped, injured, and afraid spilled over. “If you hadn’t been trespassing in the first place, I wouldn’t have shot at you! What were you doing on our land?” It felt good to vent your spleen on someone.

“Your land?” the elf snarled back. “You can’t own land! Just like a human, to think you can come in here and take whatever you want-”

“We take whatever we want?” Your voice echoed in the small space of the cave. “You stole our crops! But sure, act all high and mighty because we like to make sure our own people get fed-”

“You can’t steal a living creature! What lives belongs to the land and the land is for all! Only a human would want to possess everything!” The elf stormed toward you, jabbing a finger toward your chest.

“Only an elf would claim the moral high ground while stealing food from the mouths of our children!” You rose to meet him, faces inches apart. His features were as delicate as any elf’s beautiful even when twisted in rage. The constant ache of your arm only spurred your anger further.

“We did no such thing! If you have not sustained the land so that it will sustain you, then you only have yourselves to blame,” the elf sniffed. Red haze clouded your vision.

“How dare you! All you elves claim to be so pure and noble, but you’re all just a bunch of smug bastards, lording your superiority over everyone else! I bet if your people had to fight starvation off by tooth and nail every year, you wouldn’t be so damn high and mighty!”

“At least we’re not the ones shooting any human on sight! We’re not a bunch of savage murderers!”

“We can’t trust you not to take our stuff! It’s either that or you rob us blind and we’ll die as surely as if you slit our throats!” You had pushed each other to the middle of the cave, right under the single shaft of sunlight. Your voices echoed off the walls, filling the space with overlapping noise.

“And of course, your first instinct as a human is violence! You couldn’t negotiate to save your stupid hide!” The elf leaned over you, his face barely apart from yours. “All you know is how to shoot and ki-”

Something underneath you groaned. The ground shifted, buckling under the elf’s feet. He wobbled. Directly beneath him, the floor of the cave shuddered. You backed away, skittering toward the wall. The cave floor was unstable. Perhaps it hadn’t been able to take the weight of the two of you standing together. Perhaps your voices had been loud enough to shake something loose. Or perhaps it was just the last straw on the camel’s back.

You saw a look of undisguised terror on the elf’s face as the floor on his side of the cave crumbled away.

It was pure instinct on your part. Perhaps it would have said more to your character if it hadn’t been, if you had made the conscious decision to save an enemy. But it wasn’t. You just saw his look of fear as he went down and lunged to catch him.

Your good hand caught one of his. For a horrifying moment, he kept going, fingers sliding through yours. Just in time, his other hand snapped up and caught your wrist. His fingers were slick with sweat, but he managed to hold on.

You groaned. You weren’t quite lying on top of it, but the position you were in was putting your weight onto your bad arm. It took all your strength to just hold onto him. There was no way you were going to be able to pull him back up and if this went on, he was going to pull you over the edge too. But you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t let him fall.

His legs scrambled at the crumbling ledge beneath him. “I can’t pull you up,” you said. “Can you try to climb out?”

“I’m trying!” He pulled on your arm, trying to climb you like a rope. You kicked your legs furiously, trying to find something to anchor yourself with.

One of your feet caught on a chunk of stone. You wrapped your legs around it, hooking your foot around your ankle. Slowly, sick with the agonizing pain in your arm, you pulled yourself away from the ledge.

He scrambled up onto solid ground as soon as he could grip the ledge. Both of you scurried away from the edge of the pit, huddling together against the wall. Now that your adrenaline was fading, the pain in your arm was crawling to new levels. You must have done something to it when you lunged for him. Cautiously, you probed the bone through the bandage. A coil of pain kicked you straight in the stomach. You rolled over and vomited bile over the ground.

When you were done, you sat back up, back pressed to the wall. Your skin was clammy and fine tremors wracked your frame.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at the elf. He was pressed against the wall, smudged with dirt and a few smears of blood. His eyes were focused on you, wide as saucers. “You saved my life.”

You spat a bit of stomach acid onto the dirt. “Yeah. So, I guess it’s all evened out now, huh? Maybe you can stop yelling at me for almost killing you.”

He blinked at you. “No, I mean- why did you save me? If you wanted me dead, there was no better chance than that one.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know why I saved you. I wasn’t thinking. I just saw that you were scared and- I don’t know. It’s one thing to attack a trespasser. It’s another to just… let someone die.”

The elf stared at you for a moment, the whites of his eyes bright against the dirty background of the cave. “Your arm,” he finally said, “is it… okay?”

You didn’t want to look at it. “I don’t know.”

“Sit back against the cave wall,” the elf said, waving his hand toward you. He crawled over to you, settling next to your injured arm. You turned your head away. “I’m going to unbind it. Please try not to kick me again.”

“No promises,” you said, trying to smile through your gritted teeth. You thought you caught a quiet huff of laughter as he bent over you.

Cold fingers delicately unwrapped the cloth bandages and removed the splint. The elf sucked in a sharp breath. Your stomach dropped. “That bad?”

“Um,” the elf said. “You sort of lay on top of it when you grabbed for me, right? I think you, um. I think you pushed the bone a little further out of alignment.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly. There was a measure of unsteadiness to it. “It’s hard to see down here, so maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“How bad does it look?” you asked.

The elf grimaced. “It’s… swelling. And the bruises are bad. And the bone’s out of place again.”

“Fix it,” you said. “You shoved the bone back in place before, do it again.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I can stabilize it, but you’ve jostled it more out of place than it was before. I don’t want to risk damaging anything else.”

You leaned your head back against the wall. “Just do what you can.”

He at least attempted for gentleness this time, but you still had to grit your teeth against the sheer awfulness of the pain. His fingers were nimble, and the warmth of his body against yours was almost comforting. When he leaned away from you, you found yourself missing the contact.

The elf was apparently reluctant to part as well, because even after he finished with your arm, he stayed next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. “We need to get out of here,” he said.

“Yes. We established that already. The problem is how,” you said. “I can’t climb out of here even without a broken arm, and unless you’re hiding some impressive wall-scaling abilities, you can’t either.”

Something tapped against your side. You looked down to see the elf’s tail twisting and coiling on the ground. Occasionally, the fluffy tip would hit you, though it seemed to be more incidental than intentional. “No, I can’t. Especially not with an arrow wound.” He moved a hand over it absently. “But there has to be a way out.” He got up and started pacing along the wall, touching it with his palm. His tail waved behind him, swinging from side to side.

“Maybe,” you said, unconvinced. “Or maybe not.”

He fumbled along the wall for a few minutes, before lashing out with a kick. “Dammit! The floor crumbled so damn easy, why won’t these walls?”

He kicked the wall again and again, sending tiny stones skittering across the floor. You watched, wide eyed. The elf slammed a particularly hard kick into the wall and yelped, then started hopping around, clutching his foot. He slumped to the ground, mumbling and cursing.

“You all right?” you asked.

“Just bruised,” he groused. “Sorry. I get grouchy when I’m hungry.”

“We’ve got some more supplies,” you said, nudging the bag closer to him. He snorted, pushing the bag back over to you.

“Not that kind of hungry. There’s no light down here, except that tiny little patch.” He pointed up to the distant hole in the ceiling. The direct sunlight filtered down into the gaping hole in the ground. “I’ve been trying to meditate, but it’s just not effective without the sun. It’s making my skin crawl.” He gave an affected shudder before glancing at you. “How are you managing it? You’ve barely been affected by night-sickness at all.”

You stared at him. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about?”

The elf looked back at you with a similarly confused expression. “Night-sickness. Do humans call it something different? You know, when you haven’t done your light meditation for too long?” You shook your head. “Do you have totally different words for all of it? Look, how do you process the light from the sun into energy?”

“How do we- what?” You were staring to get frustrated. “You’re not making any sense. We don’t convert light into energy or whatever.”

“Then how do you get energy?” the elf said. He sounded well and truly bewildered, like the very idea was completely unheard of.

“We eat food? You know what eating food it. I’ve seen you eat.” Several expressions flitted across the elf’s face, from confusion to surprise to something like guilt.

“You only eat food?” he asked. You nodded. “Ah. That, er. Explains some things.”

“What does it explain?” you asked. “And what do you mean we only eat food? What else would we eat? Rocks?”

The elf chuckled weakly. “Then you would be a lot better position down here. No. Elves need sunlight. Without it, we get sick, and we can die. Food is still necessary, but we don’t need much. We have maybe one meal a day and we meditate to gain our energy other times.” His tail hooked around his chest, curling and twitching. “We can eat more food, but it’s… wasteful, I suppose. Or maybe overly indulgent.”

Several ideas were dawning upon you in the same moment. “That’s why elves don’t have farms. You don’t need them. You don’t eat much, so you can afford to just forage every now and then and gather what you want. Human farms must look greedy to you.”

“It did come across as a little…” He made a vague hand gesture. “A little gluttonous, perhaps. To have so much food and to be so possessive over it felt like an overreaction.”

“But we need it,” you said. “We got dangerously close to famine last winter.”

The elf shrank back. “We didn’t know! We don’t grow our own food! I mean, it’s not fun to go without food, but we can live. The idea of planting and growing living things that only you can harvest is just weird! You plant things because you like seeing things grow and get healthier, not because you have to.”

You kneaded at your forehead. “Are you telling me the war between our species for years has been because we didn’t know you guys eat sunlight?”

“We don’t eat sunlight,” the elf said. “It’s more of an energy transfer process. And you could have asked.”

“You could have asked before stealing our food!”

“We didn’t know it was stealing!” The elf had drawn closer to you as you were talking, and you were suddenly overly aware of how close you were. You could feel the heat of his body against yours. A wave of buzzing heat spread over your body from the pit of your stomach. Your eyes were unsettlingly drawn to his lips. His upper lip was fuller than his bottom one. Your mind wandered, almost casually, over to how it would feel to kiss the upper lips, to explore it with your teeth-

“Okay, get off me!” You struggled away from him. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but you thought there was a red flush staining his cheekbones. “It doesn’t matter how this whole thing started. Maybe, if we can tell people that this whole thing started with a misunderstanding, we can get them to end it. Or at least stop being so belligerently violent toward each other.”

The elf glanced at his injured shoulder. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. But, uh. We’re still kind of trapped. We’re not going to be stopping a war if the only thing people find are our skeletons.”

“Which means we need to find a way out of here,” you said. You stood up, your legs wobbling. You hadn’t realized exactly how tired you were. Apparently falling into a pit, breaking your arm, and then rescuing the guy you had previously tried to kill was an exhausting process.

The elf stepped closer to you, eyeing you like he was worried you were going to fall over. “I looked around. I didn’t see anything.”

“Might as well give it another pass,” you said. “Not like we’ve got that much else to do.” You started to pace along the wall, trying to feel for any weak points that might lead to a tunnel. The elf stayed by your side, tail flicking around your ankles.

No matter how closely you examined the walls, they never became anything other than solid stone. “There isn’t a way out,” the elf said. He was starting to look despondent, slumping against the wall. “I’m going to die down here.”

“No one’s going to die down here any time soon,” you said. “We just need to figure out a way out of here! There must be one.”

“Or the only way out is the same way we fell in, which we can’t get to.” He watched as you kicked at the wall some more. “Don’t bother. It’s not going to work. If I couldn’t get out, you’re not going to do it.”

“Don’t be an asshole. Do people let you get away with this all the time at your home just because you’ve got a pretty face?” you snapped, then realized what you’d said. The elf, apparently unable to believe his ears, stared back at you.

“Er- what?”

“Never mind! I wasn’t thinking. It’s the pain. It’s making me loopy.” You gave another kick toward the wall. It remained as solid as ever. “Fuck!”

The elf stood back up. “Kicking solid rock isn’t going to help. You’re so stubborn. Are all humans like that?”

“Well, we don’t all give up like elves do, apparently,” you snorted.

“You waste your energy with fruitless endeavors instead,” the elf replied. He walked over to you, examining the wall. He still managed to have the refined air of an elf, even after spending a while at the bottom of a cave. “It’s not going to collapse.”

You staggered back from the wall. Your leg ached and the wall had suffered absolutely no damage. “Well, we can’t just stand here and do nothing.” You paced away from the wall and toward the pit. You couldn’t see the bottom, though it was already so dark it could have only been a few feet down. A breeze rustled your hair.

The elf sat down next to you. “You’re not thinking of throwing yourself off, are you?”

“No. You could push me, though. If you’re annoyed I’m still here.” It was a very weak attempt at a joke. The elf didn’t smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, actually,” he said. “Even if you’re the one who got me into this. I don’t want to be alone down here.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I, uh. Don’t mind having you down here either. I mean. I’m not happy you’re going to die too. If I could get you out, I would.”

“Me too. I just wish someone knew what we did. Maybe it could help people,” the elf said. His shoulder pressed against yours as he leaned closer to you. You leaned back into him. The contact was nice. He smelled oddly good, despite everything. Another breeze drifted up from the cavern beneath you, stirring your hair.

The elf went stiff next to you. “Did you feel that?”

“The breeze? Yeah. What’s the big deal?”

“It smells like the forest! Like fresh air! There must be a way out down there!” The elf scrambled to his feet. “If we can just climb down, we can get out.”

You looked uncertainly into the pit. The sides were jagged, with plenty of hand and footholds, but you weren’t sure how far you would be able to make it. “You’ll have to go on ahead,” you said. “I can’t scale the wall, not with my arm like this.”

The elf’s face fell. “I can’t just leave you here.”

“If you can get out, you can get help. I’ll be fine.”

The elf’s tail coiled around his legs and his ears twitched frantically. “No. I’m not going to leave you.”

“You’re going to have to! I can’t climb like this, and you’re even more of an idiot than I thought if you’re going to stay here just because I can’t get out. Go!” You waved your hands at him, ushering him toward the edge of the pit.

“No.” The elf planted his feet, fingers curling into fists. “I can get you out of here. You saved my life. I’m not going to abandon you.”

“Technically, I save your life after trying to kill you. So, I would say that sort of evens the whole thing out,” you said. The elf rolled his eyes, glancing around the small cave. “Look, the longer we stand around here chatting, the less time you have to get out of here-”

“No. I have an idea,” the elf said. He fumbled with the hem of his clothes, tearing it into strips. Most of his stomach was exposed, showing off toned muscle. You deliberately did not look at him. It was not difficult because he was definitely not appealing to look at. “Come here.” You took a cautious step closer to him. “No, come here.” He seized your arm and tugged you next to him. “Stand still.” He took the cloth strips, which he’d tied into a long band, and wrapped them around both of your waists, tying you together.

“What’s this going to do?” you asked. One of the elf’s arms fell loosely around your waist, trying to steady himself against you. An odd jolt jumped through your core. You froze.

“It’s a tether between us. I should be strong enough to support at least some of your weight. You can use your good arm to climb and I can support your other side.” You tried to twist your head to look at him, but that put your faces dangerously close together. You looked away. “But we’ll have to work together.”

“I can do that,” you said. The elf’s hand pressed to your back. His tail twined around your leg for a moment.

“Okay. Just watch your step.” It took some careful negotiating of your positions to start scaling down the cliff, but you managed. Your arm screamed with pain, but the elf’s body pressed against yours, bracing you. Climbing down the rock wall was a slow, uncomfortably process. Once or twice you slipped and the elf had to pause and brace himself to support you, and he even slipped once and you had to bear his weight. It was difficult, but you managed to coordinate your movements. Without speaking, you and the elf moved as one. His tail looped around your waist. It couldn’t support your weight, but it was comforting to feel the elf’s presence.

The wall went on and on. Your arm ached from the jostling alone, and you kept bumping it against outcropping stones. The elf’s breathing had taken on a ragged edge- clearly he was struggling to hold up both of you.

“Can you tell how much further?” you asked. The elf squirmed, trying to get a look at the ground.

“No. It’s really dark. Could be a couple feet. Could be further. I don’t know.” The elf leaned closer to you. “This may have been a bad idea. I… I can’t hold on much longer.”

“I know.” Your own arm was trembling. Going up was no longer an option. There was no way you’d make it back to the top. The only hope was that the ground wasn’t much further away.

The elf moved down a couple more feet. You could tell his moves were laborious. Maybe if he hadn’t been helping you, he would be doing fine, but supporting another person was taking its toll. “I’m sorry,” you said. “This is all my fault.”

“Yeah,” the elf said, “it kind of is, isn’t it?” He sighed. “At least we know the reason our species had a feud, though. Even if no one else ever does, we’ll know the truth.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I’m sorry I shot you and I’m sorry we ended up down here. But I’m gad we met.”

The elf’s tail curled tighter around your waist. There was almost no light, so you couldn’t see him, but you could feel him next to you. Just the two of you, huddled together in the dark. Even that small comfort felt precious. “I’m glad, too.”

As he moved to take another step down, the foothold he was using crumbled. You heard him yelp and felt him scramble to regain his grip, but his movements were clumsy and fumbling. The belt at your waist tugged and you tried to brace yourself, but it didn’t matter. You were tired and your weak grip was no longer enough. The elf’s weight pulled your grip free and you tumbled into the dark.

You barely had opened your mouth to scream when you slammed into the elf, landing squarely on top of him. He huffed out a breath and wheezed awkwardly as you tried to figure out what had just happened.

“What was that?” you groaned, struggling to push yourself up. There was just enough light to see by, which meant that you got a good look at the elf’s face, which was directly under yours, as he stared back at you. Your noses were almost close enough to touch. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest where you were lying on top of him.

“Um,” you squeaked. The elf didn’t seem to be processing the situation any better. He stared at you, eyes wide.

You recovered first. “We lived!” You scrambled up, wobbling a little. Your legs didn’t seem to be fully aware of the fact that you were alive. The elf made his way to his feet, equally unsteady.

“And you feel that, right?” The elf’s ears were twitching and his tail was waving in a constant, smooth motion. He tilted his head back, focused on the airflow of the cave. “The breeze is stronger. This way.” He took off at a light jog. You jogged after him, arm cradled against your chest.

There was a tiny glow of light in the cave that grew brighter and brighter the further you traveled. The tunnel sloped upward, your calves burning as you continued up the increased grade. The elf kept glancing back at you, making sure you were following him.

You turned a small bend and the light pouring into the cave became blinding. Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut. One of your hands fumbled and caught on the elf’s arm. He grabbed you back, and, clinging to each other, you plunged into the undergrowth of the forest.

Your eyes were slow to adjust to the brilliance, but apparently the elf’s were not, because he made a choked noise of horror. You squinted, eyes watering. There were dark shapes around you, humanoid shapes. Relief flooded through you. “It’s okay,” you said. “It’s oka-”

The pointy end of a spear hovered right in front of your chest. You froze. The elf, despite being about an inch taller than you, was trying to retreat behind you. You shifted to stand more directly in front of him, good arm out.

Now that your eyes were more properly adjusted to the light, you could see who was gathered in front of you. It was a hunting party, all four of them holding enormous spears and very ready to plunge those spears into the chest of an interloping elf and anyone who defended him.

“Hey,” you said, keeping your voice was slow and soothing as you could manage. “Guys. It’s me.”

The spear wavered. The man in front, Elias, frowned. “Step away from the elf,” he said. “We can take you back to town, get you some treatment.”

The elf was gripping your clothes tightly. His eyes were wide and he glanced at you uncertainly. You could read the terror in his eyes, the utter fear that you were going to hand him over to the humans.

You braced yourself. “No. Look. There was an accident. He helped me, even after I tried to kill him. He comes with me.”

Bewildered looks were exchanged between the hunting party. “He’s trespassing,” Elias said, but there was no longer as much conviction in his voice. You drew yourself up, trying to look as authoritative and confident as possible.

“He saved my life. And he had important news for us. He stays with me.” You ushered the elf fully behind you, daring the hunters to get around you. They looked at Elias uncertainly, waiting for his say so. He looked back at them. Already, they were lowering their spears, and Elias seemed to sense that they were no longer going to attack confidently.

“All right,” he said. “But the elf stays under guard.”

“I stay with him,” you said. The hunting party fell in around you. The elf squeezed your hand. You could feel a world of gratitude through that small motion.

You refused to leave the elf, even as they questioned him and treated your arm. Explaining about what you had discovered took some time, and there was certainly no small amount of skepticism. But after hours of waiting and repeating yourself, a delegation of elves entered the town.

“Guess you’ll be heading back home soon,” you said. The elf nodded.

“I’m glad of that,” he said. “Though I think… I think I’ll miss you. Isn’t that strange? Missing the person who tried to kill you?”

“Just as strange as missing the person you tried to kill,” you said. “I’m glad I met you, Viatas,” You had learned his name soon after the other elves had arrived.

“I’m glad I met you, too.” He leaned in and gave you a gentle hug, careful not to disturb your arm. He was warm and he smelled surprisingly nice and your heartbeat pounded in your ears as he squeezed you.

“We’ll see each other again,” you promised. “Now that we’re actually talking, I think things are going to get better.”

“I hope so,” said Viatas. He waved to you once more before following the elvish delegation into the forest. You watched him until he had completely vanished between the trees.

Three weeks later, you paced around the entrance to the cave. The sun was low in the sky, washing the area around you in an amber glow.

The foliage rustled. You froze, eyes locking onto the spot where it shifted. There was a moment of silence, then Viatas emerged, hands raised.

“Not going to shoot me again, are you?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Still can’t hold the bow, actually. My arm’s not fully healed yet.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Viatas sat down next to you on a fallen log. “I didn’t make it worse, did I?”

“No. They said I probably never would have been able to use it properly if you hadn’t set it. It’s just a bad break. You saved my life and my arm.” You nudged his leg playfully and he laughed. “I’m glad you got my message.”

“I was glad to hear from you. I’ve been worried. I mean, things are going well in my home, but I wasn’t sure how your people were taking anything. You’ve been all right, haven’t you?” He gave you a concerned look and you nodded reassuringly.

“I’m fine. Actually, I asked you here to talk about something. I just got assigned as an ambassador to the elves.”

Viatas’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently an elf will come to my town and I’ll go to yours and that’s supposed to help with interspecies relations. So, uh. I’ll need some help when I go. And I figured that you’d be a good person to ask. I mean, you’re the only elf I really know.”

Viatas frowned. “You try to kill me, kick me when I try to help you, and my reward for getting you out of the cave you were going to die in is more work?”

You sputtered. “You don’t have to! I was just thinking I’d offer-”

Viatas rested a reassuring hand on your arm. “I’m kidding.” He drew closer. In the dim light, shadows played appealingly over his features. You found it a little hard to breathe all of a sudden. “I would love to work with you.” He drew closer still. “In fact, I’ve rather missed you-”

You closed the distance, pressing your mouth to his. He moved in the same moment, lips molding to yours.

An amount of time passed. You weren’t really paying attention to how long. But you broke apart eventually. “You’re better at that than I thought you’d be,” Viatas said in a quiet, awestruck voice.

“Yeah?” you said. “I think you need some more practice.”

“Oh?” Viatas lifted his brows. “Well, perhaps I should get some.”

“Yeah,” you said, leaning close to him. “I think you should.”

#exophilia #elf boyfriend #elf lover #monster boyfriend #enemies to lovers #monster lover

[sergeantsporks]

Hey could you do Hunter getting getting injuries treated at the owl house? Like some hurt/comfort. If you want to write a non compliant Hunter that’s be really cool but thanks so much! I just love your owl house fics 🦉🪶

<3 Thank you!

Hunter yawned, the tip of his staff dipping through the air. He pulled himself back up. Just a little further until Bonesborough, and then he could make a pit stop, take a little nap, or at least grab some coffee. He rubbed his eyes. Okay, so maybe he should stop taking quite so many missions. But since he’d returned with the titan’s blood, Belos had been so pleased, and he wanted to keep that going, and obviously there wasn’t anything huge he could do, but if he kept taking all of the little missions, that would probably keep him in a good spot, right?

Hunter shook himself as he started to drift off again. “Bad,” he scolded himself, “Stay awake.”

He heard the sound of wingbeats behind him, and he twisted back. A griffin. Great.

Hunter dove to avoid the bird, but it chased him, shrieking. Probably a new mother. Well, he didn’t intend on being baby food.

Hunter swooped and swerved to the side, just barely dodging a swipe of claws.

If he’d just been a little more alert and less sleepy, he probably would have been able to see and avoid the tailstrike.

As it was, the griffin’s tail caught him right in the chest, knocking him off of his staff.

Hunter screamed as he tumbled through the air, clawing for his staff. His palisman fluttered out of his pocket, grabbing the back of his tunic in its claws and frantically flapping its wings.

It didn’t help much.

He slammed into the top branch of a tree, all of the air leaving his lungs with a whoof as the tree branch cracked under the force of his fall. The world blacked out.

When Hunter came to, it was because everything hurt too much for him to stay out. He groaned. His head felt dizzy, light, and everything ached—but especially his left leg, which throbbed painfully.

Hunter managed to pry his eyes open to see the ground, still far below, his staff too far beyond his reach, and his palisman lying dazed a few branches below.

“Ah!”

Hunter twisted to look up, biting his lip as the movement made his whole body scream in protest. He was hanging upside-down, his left foot caught between two branches. Hunter’s stomach heaved. Feet were… not supposed to bend that way.

Hunter strained to pull himself up and grab the next branch, but the shift made a wave of pain sweep up from his broken foot, and his vision went spotty.

Hunter relaxed, breathing heavily. Okay. This was… this was fine. He could get out of this.

Somehow.

Xxx

“Going to the library for some books, bye, Eda!”

“Uh-huh, yeah, books, sure, say hi to bossy-boots for me.”

Luz raced out the door and down the path, humming to herself. She tripped over a stick, and stumbled forward a few steps, looking back.

Wait.

Luz scooped up the coven staff she’d tripped on, glancing around. “Where…”

A rustle in the trees made her look up to see a very familiar white cloak and golden mask in the trees. Hunter was stuck upside down, and she suppressed a snicker.

“Need some help up there?”

“No! Go away, I’m fine!”

Luz tucked the staff in her belt, climbing up the tree and sitting on a branch next to him, scooping up Lil Rascal on the way. The trail of broken branches above Hunter indicated a pretty long fall. “Uh-huh.” She tugged off his helmet. “Can you even see out of this thing?”

Hunter swiped at her, and then yelped. “Ow! Go away! I don’t need your help!”

Luz examined the branch his foot was caught in. Oh, ow, that looked painful. “Hang on, I got this.”

She slapped a little plant glyph on the tree, and it responded to her, forming a little shelf underneath Hunter. Luz snapped the branch his foot was caught in, and he fell with a little oof to the tree shelf she’d made. Luz climbed down below him, taping a fire glyph to the bottom of the shelf and breaking the shelf, hitting the fire glyph so that it slowly lowered him to the ground.

“I said I didn’t need your help!”

Luz swung down next to him. “You’re welcome.” She held out his staff. “Hey. I know you’re mister independent or whatever, but the Owl House is literally right down the road, and you’re never going to make it back to the keep on your own, so why don’t you just come home with me, and we’ll fix your foot?”

Hunter snatched the staff back, struggling up to his feet and leaning on the staff, keeping his wounded foot up. He looked awful—besides the obvious foot problem, the dark circles under his eyes were so dark they looked like bruises, and his knuckles were white on his staff. “I said I’m fine. I jussssst… need to get to… town.”

He managed to hobble a couple of steps before he fell again, yelping.

“Wow. That’s just sad.” Luz hauled him up, slinging one of his arms around her shoulders and turning around. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

“I doooooon’t… need…”

Hunter struggled weakly against her, but then gave up, going limp, his eyes sliding shut. Luz dragged him along. “Whoof—hey—wake up, you’re heavy!”

Lil Rascal cheeped in her pocket, flapping out and shifting into its staff form, hovering so that Luz could sit Hunter on top of it.

“Trrrrrraitorrrrr,” Hunter slurred, his eyes open just a crack.

Luz pushed him back towards the owl house, pushing open the door with her foot.

“HEY EDA!” she called, “CHANGE OF PLANS FOR TODAY!”

Xxx

Ow. Ow. Ow.

Why did everything have to hurt so much?!

Hunter opened his eyes, staring up at a ceiling.

Wait.

Where was he? He glanced down, the familiar weight of his armor gone. Replaced by a T-shirt that said ‘bad girl coven’ on it

“OOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooo, you’re awaaaaaake!”

Hunter yelped, punching the weird bird face. “Augh!”

The bird… worm… thing… drew back. “Ow! Geeeeeeze.”

Hunter sat up so fast he nearly blacked out again. His foot was stuck in a heavy cast, healing patches on it. “Where—oh, no-!” he swung his legs over the side of the couch. “I can’t—I can’t be here, I—”

Xxx

Luz came thumping down the stairs with more healing patches in time to see Hunter try to get up, and then immediately fall back with a groan.

“Ow—ow—ow—ow—”

Luz poked her head over the couch. “Hello!”

Hunter groaned. “Just kill me now.”

Eda stuck her head out of the kitchen, where she was cooking up more explosive potions. “Did I hear that we’re killing the nerd?”

“We’re not killing anyone.” Luz smacked a healing patch on Hunter’s forehead. “Pain patch!”

He tried to get up again, then hissed, sinking back. “I—ow—I can’t—”

“Your foot is broken, Hunter, you can’t go anywhere.” Luz put another patch on his face. “There. That should make it stop hurting.”

Eda snorted. “You know too many of those have a sedative effect, right? They use sleeping nettles to make them.”

Luz twisted back to look at her. “Whoa, really?”

Eda nodded. “See for yourself.”

Luz looked back down at Hunter, whose eyes were already drifting shut. He yawned, glaring at her. “What did… you…”

“Heh. Whoops. Sorry.” Luz squinted at him. “When was the last time you slept, anyway?”

“I don’t—couple of days, I don’t know.”

Luz slapped another pain patch on him. “I take my apology back, GO TO SLEEP!”

Xxx

“Aw, look at him.” Eda poked a sleeping Hunter in the face. “Y’know, he’s actually kind of adorable when he’s not trying to kill us.”

Luz peeled off one of the old healing patches that had lost its magic, applying a new one. “He can be nice. He needs a friend.”

Eda snorted. “Luz, he’s a coven member. I’m sure he has plenty of friends back with all the other Belos-ites.”

“I don’t think he does.” Luz sat on the arm of the couch. “He seemed kind of lonely, like he has no one to talk to. I mean, he’s the head of the coven—who’s he going to talk to that isn’t treating him like their boss?”

“Whoa, hey, there, Luz. He’s fun right now, when he can’t move, but don’t forget that he’s dangerous—he beat the two of us pretty handily, held his own against Kikimora, and Amity just barely got out of her fight with him, and that was when he was stressed out of his mind. I’m not saying he can’t be nice, or that he isn’t lonely, but just… watch your step, okay?”

Luz nodded. “I’ll be careful, Eda, I promise.”

Her mentor gave her a thumbs-up and ran back to the kitchen as smoke billowed from the door. Luz spun Hunter’s helmet in her hands, slipping it on. “Ugh. How does he wear this thing all of the time?” She tugged it back off, setting it down.

“Dooooon’t touch that.”

Luz jumped. Hunter was watching her through bleary, half-closed eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he mumbled crossly, “Why can’t I move?”

Luz winced. “I miiiiiiiight have put a few too many pain patches on you. But you were really hurting!” She poked his shoulder. “Can you feel that?”

“Quit that!”

Luz stuck her tongue out at him. “Eh. Hey, did you know that half of your ribs are broken?” I think your armor probably protected you a little bit, but how high did you fall from?”

He blinked sluggishly. “I don’t know—high.”

“Man.” Luz fidgeted. “Hey, uh, Hunter? Where’d all of those scars come from?”

Hunter closed his eyes again.

“Hey! I know you’re not asleep, Hunter!”

He opened his eyes just a little bit. “They were accidents,” he grumbled, “Satisfied?”

“Accidents?”

“Yeah. Accidents.”

“Even the claw one? What was that an accident of, accidentally antagonizing a bear?”

He closed his eyes again. “Something like that.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, and Luz sighed. “Okay. Hey. I’m sorry. I won’t poke into your personal life anymore.”

He opened one eye. “Really?”

“No,” Luz admitted, “I’m totally going to keep poking into your personal life. But… you don’t have to answer. If you really don’t want to. Oh, hey, you thought the glyph combos were cool, wanna see my new one? Of course you do.”

Luz scribbled down a plant and fire glyph in a circle combo and squeezed it in her hand. A whip made out of fire stretched out, and she cracked it. “Neat, huh!”

“You just lit the floor on fire.”

Luz yelped, stomping on the fire. “Go out, go out, go out!”

Xxx

Hunter snorted, watching Luz struggle to put the fire out, then winced as the snort made his ribs ache. The pain patches must be wearing off.

Luz put out the fire and started chattering about how the glyph combos worked, and how folding origami could make the coolest things.

Hunter drifted off again, still groggy from the patches (and yes, okay, fine, from the all-nighters, too). When he opened his eyes again, it was dark. One single ball of light floated in the middle of the room, sending off a dim nightlight.

Night?!

Oh—he was so late—he would be in so much trouble—maybe he could pretend he was still out doing missions?

Hunter started to sit up, then fell back with a groan. Ow, his ribs.

His palisman chirped sleepily, untucking its head from its wing to blink at him. Someone—probably Luz—had propped his broken foot up with pillows and given him a blanket.

I need… to go back…

But it was warm and comfortable here, and he couldn’t move anyway, and his foot wasn't going to be better for a while, and his eyes were already drifting shut.

But maybe… maybe I can stay a little longer.

#and then he never leaves :) #toh #toh fanfiction #my writing #asks

[constantlyunlightening]

Glory

Day 8: Glory Hole w/ Enji Todoroki

Warnings/other kinks: anonymous sex (obvi), creampie, depression, a n g s t

Nobody asked for this. Nobody wanted me to write an angsty glory hole fic for a depressed, touch starved Endeavor but here it is anyway. Man, idk. Anyway, Endeavor is certainly having a redemption arch and is working on healing but I refuse to believe he ain’t depressed with the realization of his own actions. So. Have this.

Disclaimer: 18+ years or older to read. All characters are 20+ years. ALSO, sex work is sort of written as something shameful here but it’s not (just be safe ya’ll) but Enji is a very strict sort of guy and I was working in his voice a bit here. 

What the hell was he doing here? Some hero he was.

Even with the baggy clothes, the mask and the hood dropped over his head, he felt like he stood out like a sore thumb. He was out of place - out of line. He was probably fine. Number one hero or not, under all the extra fabric, he’d be hard to pinpoint without the famous shroud of flames he always coated himself in. But, still, being at a seedy hook up place like this? It was so beneath him. It was so underneath the standards he usually held his pride and himself too. He was the very definition of a hero.

At least he used to think he was. 

Nowadays he wasn’t so sure. He worked hard at his work - painfully and endlessly hard. And regardless if he had rightfully earned the spot or not, he was the top hero. But at what cost? A hero to the public but a villain to his own family.

Maybe a run down, shady place like this was exactly where he belongs.

Enji shifted his weight, feeling like he should back out now. This felt wrong. But his legs were heavy and refused to move. At least not until he heard the soft voice of a women who had slipped into the room, her face hidden by a white mask covering the bottom half of her face. “Your room is ready, sir. Remember, all of our girls are completely clean and anonymous, but if you have an issue with her, you’re more than welcome to ask to change,” she explained her voice a little too cotton candy sweet to be working in such hole in the wall place. Yet, here she was, leading Enji down the dimly lit hallway, the rooms filled with muffled moans and cries that made him question what he was really doing here.

Eventually the attendant brought him to a door at the end of the hallway and gestured for him to open the door as she gave an all too pleasant grin. “It’s all yours. Have fun.”

And with that, she was turning around and walking away as his eyes came to rest on the old silver knob of a door. What pathetic lengths he was stooping to. Maybe there wasn’t anything inherently bad about a place like this, a brothel didn’t necessarily scream heroic. 

Although, he had been questioning what a hero actually was. 

Sure, he saved lives day in and day out but what good was that when you couldn’t protect the ones you care about? When you realized you were the one who ruined the ones you care about?

With Allmight retiring and Enji’s long-consuming determination to best him ending with his hollowed victory, Enji was left with his thoughts more. No longer was he plagued by the desire to be number one, but instead he was haunted by the actions he had done to get there. And the fact that he had only became number one because Allmight had all but fallen was an even bigger kick in the gut. His rise was not one that felt like it was created by glory, but one that was shrouded with misdeeds and an empty win. He was trying to be better. He was trying to not just be the number one hero by title, but in his actions and ideology as well. He was trying to be a better person too. 

No longer consumed with the drive to be the best, he now had the time to think about other things - feel other things than sheer determination. He felt regret. He realized he cared about something more than his work. He realized he cared more than he was used to. He wasn’t used to feeling so much. He wasn’t prepared to deal with the emotions he carried for his family- his kids - now that he could see them for more than just their power. He wasn’t prepared for the emotional weight of his damage to come crashing down on him.

If none of his children ever talked to him again, he was prepared to let them live on without him. He would face up to the consequences. But now with all that time to think, the mental toll was too much to bare. Regret, anger, depression, loneliness. He was dragged into the depths of it all, even as he kept the poker face facade as he went about his hero work. 

He missed real human connection. He craved it.

But he had decided he didn’t actually deserve it. 

That’s where this place came in. It was a physical reprieve at least. Here he could at least gain that human contact without the risk of creating another emotional burden on anyone else. It would serve as a stress relief as well as a point of contact in an attempt to regain a bit of the humanity in him - he felt like it had faded all to much. 

He had steeled himself to work through it. But even the strongest man in the world had to bare with moments of weakness. 

He would wake up with a sense of regret, he was certain, but for a brief moment, he would find temporary solace between the legs of a women he never met and would never meet.

So he opened the door revealing you.

Well, half of you anyway. You were halfway up the wall - hips and below only. You were pushed partly through a glory hole in the wall, your legs suspended by your ankles straight against the wall. You were a mounted animal - captured by a hunt and put on display. He almost felt bad for you. Did your legs hurt being in that position? Did you even want to be here? He was assured that all the women here were here of their own volition but he had a nagging sense of guilt lingered within his gut. 

It was his chance to leave but… despite his guilt, a more selfish instinct overcame him. If it wasn’t him it would just be somebody else anyway.

So he walked in and shut the door behind him.

If you heard his heavy footsteps into the room, he couldn’t tell by the parts of you that were showing. He made his way up until he was right before your presentation and hesitantly, a large hand traced over the inside of a suspended leg. Maybe his brain was telling him this was wrong, but the second he felt how soft you were under his calloused hands, he knew he had lost the willpower to leave. 

When was the last time he had even touched something so soft? An emotion he couldn’t quite place bubbled up inside of him. His heart panged and he felt like he was about to cry. Utterly ridiculous. But it was true all the same.

“Pretty,” a whisper escaped him, one he didn’t think you’d be able to hear through the walls, but your leg seemed to twitch under his touch all the same. He would have wondered what you were thinking about but he was too preoccupied with the urge to let his lips follow the path of his hand, starting at your calf with gentle kisses, relishing in the warmth radiating from you. His kisses moved lower, lower, and he felt like he could get lost in the physical feel of it. It felt insanely intimate but he knew it was an illusion brought on through the loneliness that had pitted into his stomach. Attachment grown from desperation. He was paying you. He didn’t know your name or who you were. He couldn’t even see you face. This wasn’t the time to be feeling intimate, this wasn’t the time to be feeling anything other than base urges. 

He came to this exact place to keep himself separated - detached. Your plush skin may be sucking him in but he refused to forget himself. No matter what thoughts he had during the act.

He resteeled himself. Fuck, don’t feel. And with that, he was pulling his lips off and instead focused on drawing himself from his pants, wrapping his hand around the base of his erection. Apparently those simple touches and the sight of you splayed before him was enough to get his body craving more. And he acted on it.

The brothel you worked for already had you well lubed up for him - it was something about letting the customer get right down to buisness….. 

However, when Enji finished prepping himself, he still heard the shocked yelp of a sound you produced from behind the wall as he pushed himself into you. The number one hero had the accommodations to match his size in any case, and he could tell you were feeling it, even without seeing your face. Your body clamped down on the intrusion so tightly he could have came on the spot. He couldn’t remember how this felt either. It was mind-numbingly good. It was good he couldn’t see your face because in his desperation and newly found emotions, he may have fallen for you on the spot. 

Fuck, don’t feel. Fuck, don’t feel.

He wasn’t here to feed his emptiness. He was here to blow off steam. He needed to start acting like it or this whole endeavor would be pointless. It wasn’t mercy that kept him still inside you - he wasn’t letting you adjust. No, he was simply committing himself to a decision.

Fuck, don’t feel.

He felt you startle under the grip that wrapped around your calves, but he didn’t have time to give it much thought as he proceeded to wreck your insides. The feather soft kisses he had placed on your legs didn’t feel like they were from the same person who was now pounding into you like an animal, rattling the wall as your cries pierced through any sort of barriers between the two. He relished in each and every tremor you produced around his length as he sank himself into your velvety walls. So warm. He was the flame hero but you were the one burning him up as his hands bruised around your legs.

He ignored the way the voice screaming out made him want to see you even more. He could burn this wall down in a flash - finally have his moment of connection - but he forced himself to settle for pretending the cries you gave out were his name. No longer a scramble of whines and whimpers as he rutted into the wet body before him, but in his mind they were a chant of “Enji”.

The loneliness was going to drive him insane but for now he embraced the fantasy as his forehead pressed against the wall, taking in your echos as best as he could.

He was growling, straining his voice to not make a sound lest you recognize his voice. But he had to make some sort of noise. The way you wrapped around him was sinfully divine and his nerves were ignited with lust.

He was a more than a little twisted right now, but he was determined to leave a mark on you. He would never have to know what a monster he was, but he could still drive his imprint into you as if he were someone worth letting his impression linger. 

Maybe he could make you feel a fraction of the stars he was feeling with your warmth. He could forget about his sins and focus on you, and the way you trembled and the way your voice peaked from behind the wall with a muffled - “more!” He would oblige. You could have asked the world of him and in this very moment, he may just try to fulfill it. More, he could do. More is what you got. 

His hands danced lower, finally gripping at the center of open thighs as he hammered somehow faster still. The hero work, if anything, at least gave him a surpless of strength and stamina. The room appeared to be vibrating with the way the thin walls shook. And each time you seemed to tighten or squeeze around him, it just spurred him on, throwing his own senses into carnal lust. The sensation became to much for the woman in the wall to handle and Enji shuddered as he felt your orgasm strangle his cock and he couldn’t stop himself from forcing himself in deeper anyway until his balls were flush against your ass. He unloaded right into the heat he was holding tight against, letting you milk all he had to offer. Another point of connection, fluids mixing together and he felt a gross sense of satisfaction as he listened to the way you whimpered, felt your walls flutter against him in the afterwards.

He wasn’t here to make connections, but with the urge to hold close the woman he had shared his first contact with in how long- the urge to burn down this whole wall was even stronger now. He was going to have to leave to stop himself from making yet another mistake.

#enji todoroki #endeavor #bnha smut #bnha angst #kinktober #enji x reader

[flyingkiki]

A Very Merry Christmas (1/4)

I've been working on this since December last year, in hopes of giving you a steamy Christmas. But life, anxiety, and the shitstorm of 2020 came in the way. But either way, I worked through this, got all chapters ready for some regular steamy #TimRae goodness. I'll post regularly so all chapters will be out soon. Enjoy this first steamy TimRae nugget, my loves!

Notes: Messed around with ages and timelines. I like Tim and Raven in a more adult setting, past their teenage years. Doesn’t strictly follow any universe, rather a mix of this and that. They're adults and Damian is still a pre-teen kid.

Part Two of my Vanilla Series. Because Tim is a k!nky boi, and we know it. Here's Part 1: Flavor: Vanilla.

~

Chapter 1

“How many estates does the Wayne family have?”

As they were driving up the icy road, Raven warily eyed the large house decked in a thick blanket of snow. When Tim mentioned they’d be spending Christmas week at the family vacation home, she certainly did not expect another mansion in the outskirts of Gotham, tucked away by a range of trees and lush snowy forest cover. She thought of a cottage by the forest – not an 8-bedroom and 10-bathroom monstrosity of a home. Raven blinked and looked out the window. Was that a tennis court she just saw?

“There are a few,” Tim chuckled and they neared his childhood home. He eyed the home fondly and shot Raven a brief smile. “This one is Bruce’s favorite. We spend a lot of holidays and summers here,”

Hard to imagine that in between all the vigilante and business work, and all the dysfunctional family disasters and ill-managed feelings, the Wayne’s somehow were still able to spend some time together as a family. Raven had quickly learned after the rift between Tim and the rest of the family with losing and finding Bruce in the time stream, and all the tension between all the siblings for one reason or another, Bruce (or likely Alfred) had made it more of a habit for the family to gather whenever possible. Over the years as they have grown older, old wounds have somewhat healed. Somewhat.

“I cannot picture Bruce Wayne as the fishing-by-the-lake kind of father,” Raven mumbled, absently eyeing the snowy white trees whizzing past them.

“He likes to take Damian the lake when the brat is out of school during summers,”

Raven hummed in acknowledgement and watched as they finally approached a security gate. They’ve been driving for hours and it came to a relief that she’d be finally be able to stretch her legs. But the idea of finally, officially, meeting the Wayne family “outside of work” unsettled her. Worry loomed in the pit of her stomach as they drove up the driveway of the large house made of intricate stonework, impossibly large windows, and aged wood. She inhaled softly, staring at the home muted by the thick blanket of snow. It was beautiful.

“Who drives a motorcycle in the middle of winter?” Raven frowned when they drove past a large motorcycle covered in snow carefully parked next to pine trees.

“Jason,” said Tim as they finally came to a stop under the car shed next to Bruce’s Bugatti. Who drives a Bugatti in the middle of a cold wave? Raven eyed the car.

“We’re here,” Tim announced. A blanket of silence dropped over them with only the soft noise of the engine filling the air, Tim allowed Raven to process their arrival. He watched as she stared out the car window, taking in the snowy garden.

After the Killer Croc incident and the discovery of the rather embarrassingly ill-placed hickey, the entire family assumed that he was seeing someone. For a period, Jason had been talking non-stop about Tim’s sex life (“Dude, you are a kinky piece of shit.”) and Bruce had dropped invitations to holiday and gala dinners, which Raven remained hesitant to attend. After a year of postponing dinners, they did finally decide to attend this Christmas getaway after Alfred told Tim “It would be nice to finally meet your partner, Master Tim. I would like to meet and thank her for taking care of you, my boy. It would be wonderful to get to know her,” he said. And that was that. No one declines Alfred.

It was a miracle that they kept the relationship under wraps for over a year now. Tim understood Raven’s need for privacy and her hesitation to meet Bruce. Some wounds still ran deep, no matter how long ago their first encounter was. The thought still left a bad taste in his mouth, the idea of a young Raven being turned down by the Justice League. He knew that there was still bad blood between her and Zatanna while Clark tried his best to make up for their hasty decisions over her. He watched Raven inhale softly and fiddle with one of the silver rings on her left finger. “Hey,” he said softly and reached out to touch her hand. Deep blue eyes stared back at him and he cracked a soft smile. “All good?”

Raven returned the small smile and tilted her head just a little bit. “You think very loudly,” she said and adjusted her hand in his so they could hold hands. Years ago, she’d shy away from this kind of contact. It was strange how time has changed her. She watched Tim’s smile brighten and she released a nervous breath she was holding. “Yeah, I’m good,”

Tim gave her hand an encouraging squeezing. “We don’t have to do this, you know?”

“I know,” Raven replied. “But I guess now is a good time as any,”

He gave her hand another encouraging squeeze. “It’s not like they don’t know you anyway,”

Raven snorted ungracefully and rolled her eyes. “I’ve spent more time with everyone in that house in masks and Kevlar than unmasked. I’m thrilled to see everyone in their silk PJs,” she said dryly.

“I guess now’s the best time to meet everybody unmasked,” Tim told her. He released her hand and turned to shut the engine. He turned back to her and smiled, grabbing her arm and gently tugging her towards him. He pressed a long kiss against her lips. “C’mon. Let’s go inside,”

They stepped out of Tim’s warm car and into the biting cold. It was mid-afternoon and it was already slowly getting dark, and everything was becoming colder. Raven made a face and pulled the grey bonnet over her ears and joined Tim by the trunk. They pulled out their duffle bags and slowly trekked towards the front doors of the mansion (calling the monstrosity of a house a cottage in the woods would seem insulting). Raven eyed the house in awe and apprehension.

Hurrying up the wooden stairs and stomping off the snow from their boots by the worn mat, Tim fished out his keys from his pants. Throwing her a curious look, he slid the silver key into the lock. “Ready?”

Raven made a face and her eyes momentarily slid towards one of the frosted windows, seeing warm light past the heavy curtains. “Not really,”

“Raven,” Tim breathed, eyes widening, and his hand stilled.

Raven rolled her eyes and gently nudged his shoulder. “I’m kidding. C’mon, I’m freezing, and I need to pee,” she whispered teasingly.

“Tease,” Tim grinned at her gasp as his cold nose pressed against her cheek for a quick peck. Turning back to the door, he unlocked it and quickly opened the heavy front door. As they entered the welcome warmth of the foyer, they were greeted by the familiar movie soundtrack of the Grinch. Removing their coats and leaving their bags for later, Tim led Raven towards the living room. “We’re here!” he announced.

“Timbo, in here!” They heard Dick from the other room over the noise of the Grinch followed by low muttering and scuffling. “Sit up, Jason! Don’t embarrass us in front of his girlfriend!”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dickface,”

“Hey guys,” Tim entered the large living room and found his whole family scattered across the ridiculously large leather sofa and carpeted floor. He felt Raven hesitate beside him before appearing next to him and Tim snorted at the collective response of shock and surprise from everyone.

“Hey Timbers – oh my fuck.”

“Master Jason, language!”

“Raven?!”

In hindsight, perhaps it was a bad idea for her to just join the family for their Christmas weekend as every single member of the Wayne family openly stared at Raven and Tim. Raven inhaled softly and took a step back as she felt the onslaught of emotions. She watched the open surprise cross Bruce face, and she quickly averted her gaze to Dick, who gaped at her like a fish. Yep, definitely not a good idea. An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she felt out of place.

“Raven,”

She turned to Bruce again and she blinked as the man rose from his seat on the sofa, a rather ugly throw blanket slipping from his thighs. She quirked a nervous smile and breathed. “Hi,” she said. Blinking, she waved lamely. “I brought wine?”

“You and Tim?” Dick blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. How did his second-in-command start dating his younger brother? How did he even miss this? “How? When?” Dick blinked lamely. “Huh?”

“Raven!” a small lithe bundle of a soft green Christmas sweater bounded towards the couple and hugged Raven. “It’s you!”

“Hi Cass,” Raven chuckled and hugged the younger woman. Over Cass’s shoulder she and Tim exchanged small smiles. Raven always had a soft spot for Tim’s sister. Cass turned in Raven’s arms and eyed Tim with a playful look and nudged his shoulder. “You kept secret!”

“Sorry,” Tim laughed and waved his hands in defense.

“Perhaps Miss Raven and Master Tim would like to freshen up a bit before we have some afternoon tea? Or hot chocolate. I’d think that would be a great idea, don’t you think?” Alfred said this with an air of finality as he stood up and briefly glanced at his wards before turning to the couple and smiling kindly at them. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Raven.”

“Thanks, Alfred.” Raven smiled, tension leaving her shoulders. She pulled away from Cass and the girls gently squeezed hands.

Tim cleared his throat at the collective surprise still in the room. Bouncing on his heels, he turned to Raven. “Okay. Bathroom?” Raven nodded, relief flooding her face at the chance to escape the awkward introductions. Turning back to his flustered family, he rolled his eyes and absently took Raven’s hand. “We’ll be back. You guys get it together,” he told them before turning on his heels and gently tugging Raven back to the foyer.

Leaving the surprised family in the living room (“You guys better not get handsy up there” “Jasssssonn!”), Tim and Raven picked up their bags and made it to Tim’s old bedroom. Raven raised an eyebrow in amusement at the sight of old band posters on the wall.

“Bathroom’s over there,” Tim pointed toward the door in the corner that led to the private bathroom. Raven hummed in acknowledgement, still keyed up from all the emotions downstairs.

After puttering around in the bathroom and washing her face, Raven emerged from the rather ridiculously luxurious personal bathroom (she was definitely going to take a long, hot bath and put up some scented candles in there) and found Tim absently tinkering with an old laptop on his desk. Ignoring Tim, she walked around his old bedroom, taking in old books lined in a bookshelf. Finding some curious titles, she thought she might want to check out for later. She smiled and picked up an old Superman action figure. She moved to the wall that held a few of Tim’s old photographs. An old gritty photograph of Gotham Tower with the Bat Symbol illuminated behind it hung in the middle of an array of landscape photos.

“I took that when I was 9,” Tim said, joining her by the wall and pulling the old action figure of Clark out of her hands. They shared a smile as he waved Superman’s arms around lamely before dropping it back on the shelf.

“You haven’t done photography for some time,” Raven commented.

“Been busy. You know, saving Gotham, running a company, staying alive,” Tim smiled and watched as Raven quirked her lips in response. He watched her move around his old room in curiosity, taking in old trinkets and photos, eyeing books and posters, and smiling fondly at old memorabilia. He felt a warmth spread inside of him as he watched Raven, in her oversized grey kitten sweater, study parts of his old life. While life as a Wayne (and a Drake) was beyond messy, he realized that this – the sight of Raven gently pressed against the large windows of his old room watching snow gently fall into the garden – was something he wanted Raven to be a part of in his life and share more with her – mess and everything.

Raven looked over the shoulder, offering a rare smile at the gentle press of his warm emotions. “You’re on vacation now. Maybe we can walk around and take some photos,” she said. She watched Tim join her by the window and wrap an arm around her waist. He offered her a gentle smile. “I’d like that.”

“So,” Tim breathed, a warm lilt in his voice as he looked at her. “What do you think so far?”

Raven tilted her head and hummed. “Do you think they’d mind if I just spend my entire time here in this room?” she asked teasingly.

Tim laughed and squeezed her hip. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, her held her close and allowed his hand to slip underneath her sweater for another gentle squeeze. “As much as I’d like to keep you in my childhood bedroom, I don’t think Alfred would approve.” He mumbled into her hair.

Raven hummed and shifted in his arms, she looked over his shoulders at his ridiculously large bed and back up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “But there is so much we could do in here,” she said.

Tim laughed softly and pulled her closer to him, relishing the soft press of her against him. “Oh, believe me, I have plans for you,” he said against her cheek and grinned at her soft chuckle. He gave her hip a teasing squeeze before kissing her fully on the lips. He had missed her; they had not seen each other the last few weeks because of her off-earth mission. He had every intention of making sure they made up for lost time in his old bedroom.

Raven hummed against his lips before pulling away, a small smile playing on her lips. “Such loud dirty thoughts, Tim Wayne” she teased and gently nudged him away. Rolling her eyes at the guilty chuckle, she stepped out of his arms and brushed her hair back with her hands. “Do you think we should go back downstairs?”

“Yeah, let’s. I promise you that Alfred’s hot chocolate is to die for,” Tim said while leading her out of the bedroom.

If the rich chocolate smell was any indication, Alfred’s hot chocolate smelled divine. Raven blinked, trying to come to terms of the domesticity of the entire scene in front of her – Bruce Wayne, Batman, in comfortable house slippers and a grey sweater that probably cost more than what she made each month, carrying a tray of sugar cookies into the sitting room. The rest of his brood were gathered around a glass coffee table, with steaming porcelain mugs in their hands.

Cass perked up around her mug at the sight of Raven and Tim entering the room. She waved them over from where she sat curled up next to the table within easy reach of the cookies that Bruce just deposited on the table. “Come, sit!”

Bruce’s raised his eyebrows at the couple and he straightened. He looked at Tim for a brief moment before locking eyes with Raven. It momentarily startled him to see the woman in front of him, out of her uniform, a much older version of that young girl he had met so many years ago begging for their help. The memory unsettled him for a moment, a shift of emotions he was sure Raven caught as her head tilted just a fraction of an inch and she blinked. He smiled instead and placed the cookie tray on the table as she and Tim approach the group.

“Hi, Bruce,” Raven greeted Bruce, barely catching his mix of emotions and she smiled lightly up at the older man.

“Hello, Raven. It’s nice to have you with us.” Bruce eyes shift to towards Tim and he quirked an amused eyebrow. “It’s quite a Christmas surprise,”

“A rather pleasant one, if I may add,” pipped in Alfred as he appeared with a tray of more mugs of hot chocolate. He and Raven exchanged smiles. Raven always liked Alfred.

“Sit,” Cass grabbed Raven’s hand and tugged her towards the coffee table, obviously thrilled to have a girl in the house to spend time with. Raven smiled and allowed herself to be tugged to the floor next to Cass. She shared a quick amused glance at Tim before turning to the younger woman as she pressed a hot mug of chocolate into her hands. “Drink.”

“Thanks,” Raven smiled and folded her legs underneath her. The hot chocolate smelled delicious and the heat of the mug warmed her cold hands. She felt some of her tension slowly melt away.

“Why didn’t I know about you two!” Dick exclaimed from his perch on the loveseat. He sent hurt looks to both Raven and Tim. His blue eyes widened in realization. “So that’s where you run off to sometimes. You said you’re going to a museum!”

“To be fair, I did,” said Raven, sending Dick an amused look before taking a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. It was delicious. She hummed in approval and shared a small smile with Cass.

“Just with me most of the time,” Tim grinned at Dick after gabbing one of the mugs from the table and plopping down into the large sofa he shared with Bruce.

“Soooo,” Jason announced sounding terribly smug from where he was sprawled out over an overstuffed armchair. He lolled his head towards Raven and his green eyes shone with mischief. “It was you who gave Timbers that crotch hickey.”

“Jason!”

Dick coughed loudly into hot chocolate, chocking on one too many marshmallows. He did not need to know that. “Jason, damn it!”

“Language, boys!” Bruce sighed loudly and watched as Jason grinned smugly at Raven, their houseguest – Tim’s secret girlfriend. And thanks to Jason’s not so gentle reminder, said culprit of Tim’s large hickey he had the misfortune of seeing many months ago. He sunk into his seat in the sofa and mentally groaned at the terrible mental image. He really did not want anything to do with his sons’ sex lives. They were all adults, but still – Bruce sighed.

Of course. Trust Jason Todd to bring up sex. Ignoring Tim’s embarrassment and the heat that crept up her cheeks, Raven narrowed her eyes and stared back at an amused Jason waiting for her answer. “Yes.”

“Raven!” Dick whined.

Jason cackled and hot chocolate dangerously sloshed around in his expensive porcelain mug. “I like her!”

Bruce sighed and took another long drink of Alfred’s hot chocolate. He needed sugar. Thank god Damian was out walking Titus, he definitely did not need his 13-year-old son to hear about Tim’s sex life. Or hearing it confirmed by Raven.

As if on cue, the front door opened and Damian announced his arrival. There was quiet shuffling in the background and a distinct bark before the Damian’s monstrosity of a dog came bounding into the room followed by his youngest son. Damian blinked in confusion at the sight of Raven talking to Cass, obviously wondering what the Titan was doing here. Titus on the other hand stood at attention at the sight of the newcomer and barked briefly at Raven, gaining her attention, before lying down a few feet away from her and watching her cautiously with a loud whine.

“Is there a mission?” asked Damian, eyeing Raven quizzically before turning to Dick and then to Bruce.

Jason snorted and swung his socked feet over the armrest. Taking a rather dangerous sip of his hot chocolate from his precarious position on the armchair, he grinned in amusement at the little brat. “Please meet Timmy’s girlfriend,” he said dramatically, theatrically waiving at Raven with his mug.

Damian eyes widened briefly before shooting Tim a quick glance and turning to a mildly amused Raven. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he told her dryly.

“Hey!”

Raven chuckled softly. She shared an amused smile with an indignant Tim before turning back to an unfazed Damian. He stared at her for a moment, unsure what to do. They had rarely interacted outside of missions, the boy had held her at arm’s length at times – probably because of whatever knowledge he had of her from his grandfather and the League. Though she wouldn’t blame him, she’d hold herself at arm’s length too. She titled her head, the corner of her lips quirking slightly as she sensed the young boy’s unsure emotions. “It’s nice to see you again, Damian,” she said.

Damian blinked. His gaze shifted back to Tim, who was watching him intently. Turning back to Raven, he stiffly nodded. “Welcome to our home,” he replied automatically.

“Such an exciting welcome wagon you are,” Jason said dryly, shooting the short boy a teasing smirk while helping himself to another mug of hot chocolate.

“Dami have some hot chocolate,” Dick beckoned Damian towards the coffee table as he heaped another healthy spoonful of marshmallows into his mug. Raven always wondered how Dick’s sugar levels seemed to do so well during Cyborg’s annual physicals.

While Damian busied himself in pouring his own mug, Dick looked curiously at Raven and Tim, watching in astonishment as Raven handed over her phone for Tim to keep as she sat cross-legged on the floor next to Cass. He watched Tim stuff the device into his pocket and Dick blinked – it was so odd to see Raven allow such simple intimate acts around her. When Gar tried to even touch her phone, he would be blasted off the roof. He pulled himself out of his reverie as Damian unceremoniously plopped down next to him and Dick nearly spilled his drink. Catching Raven’s eyes, Dick smiled brightly, and pressed on with their earlier conversation. “So, when did this start?” he asked.

“Oh,” Tim breathed. He watched as Raven looked over her shoulder to catch his stare. Turning back to Dick, he tapped his mug thoughtfully, wondering just how much they should get into detail. “Remember that mission in Lisbon?” he asked.

Dick’s eyebrows furrowed remembering the Titan’s mission of taking on that inter-galactic firearm smuggling ring led by Slade. There was a lot of fighting, shooting, and blood. They had Red Robin join to help Cyborg hack into the several space stations and track local smuggling movements. His eyes widened at he stared at Tim. “What? That was over a year ago. I was there. You two got into arguments!” he accused. He turned to Raven with a bewildered look, feeling utterly confused. “You said his plan was, I quote, ‘fiery hot mess’ and he was stupid beyond belief.” Jason released a bark of laughter in the background.

Raven shrugged dismissively. “It was. He is.”

“No, reckless. The word was reckless.” Tim tutted.

Raven rolled her eyes. “And still stupid. You got shot.”

“Still took down the entire operation.” Tim grinned and they shared a small private smile. Turning back to Dick, he offered an easy shrug, as if everything explained for itself. “Asked Raven out on a date once we all got back and recovered from blood loss.”

Dick gaped at them, still thoroughly confused. “That was 18 months ago. How? All this time –?”

Damian sighed loudly looking rather bored. “Your detective skills are rather disappointing, Richard, if you failed to take notice for the last 18 months,” he said. Dick made a disgruntled sound next to him.

“I’m happy!” Cass announced nudging Raven and the two shared a smile. Raven felt herself relax, as an easy conversation fell on the group and everyone continued to tease Dick for his terrible situational awareness skills. She chuckled at a joke Jason threw at Dick and looked over at Bruce, who remained quiet throughout most of the conversation. She caught his eye briefly and felt whatever tension that was left in her leave as the two shared a rather brief smile.

Dinner was a chaotic affair as promised with Jason and Damian, and on occasion Tim, getting into arguments and Dick trying to placate the situation. Though it was not like Raven was not used to the chaos, after living with Victor and Garfield, and Jinx, for so long. Tim had agreed that he and Raven would help Alfred in his baking tomorrow. When Cass was not busy talking to Raven, she’d endlessly tease Tim or Jason for one thing or the other. Bruce looked over his children occasionally trying to break up arguments or admonish Jason for his cursing. It was a surprising sight, to see this different side of Batman, and it threw Raven into a loop. It was admittedly nice, despite her initial apprehensions, to meet everyone outside of their Kevlar and masks.

“So?” asked Tim later that evening as he appeared from the bathroom barefoot in nothing but his sweatpants. Raven looked up from reading an old philosophy book. She watched Tim towel his wet hair as he approached the bed. Closing the book, she allowed a small smile to play on her lips as she watched him approach, appreciating as the defined muscles rippled with each movement. Tim’s work with his bo staff does wonders – not that it was something she’d openly admit. She caught his amused emotions as he sat down on his side of the bed, catching her stare. “What do you think of today?” he asked her, reaching out and affectionately squeezing her calf.

“It was alright,” Raven replied, placing the book on the bedside table. She turned to Tim and watched him haphazardly throw his used towel onto the nearby office chair. “I’ll pick it up, I promise,” he chuckled as she rolled her eyes. Tim turned off his bedside lamp, engulfing them in the soft light from Raven’s lamp. Climbing into bed next to her, he turned to his side and propped his head on his left hand. “Was it?” he probed.

Raven sighed and sunk into bed next to him. She looked up at him as Tim gently brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “It’s different,” she admitted. “I’m still getting used to the idea of seeing Batman in Armani lounge wear.” Tim snorted ungracefully. “It’ll take some time adjusting to all these emotions from everyone. But it’s nice to meet your family outside of work. Thank you for you bringing me here to meet them,” she told him.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to share this with you. It’s a bit messy and chaotic, but it’s family. I’m happy you’re here,” said Tim gently. He offered her a small smile and grabbed her left hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry if everything is a bit overwhelming. We can always go home when you want to,”

“I know. Thank you.” Raven replied and tugged Tim towards her, allowing him into her space and wrapped his arms around her. She did not realize her emotions were so keyed up until now. Her emotions settled at the familiar press of Tim’s body and the warm press of his emotions against hers. She felt one of his hands slip under her camisole and fingers fanned against the small of her back. She sighed contently and melted into the embrace. She felt a mumbled “I love you” and a kiss against her forehead and she smiled, fingers curling around Tim’s bicep. She hummed and pressed forward, clumsily kissing Tim on the cheek. “I love you too,” she whispered, a little breathless. It often amazed her as she found herself saying these words, three words she thought she’d never say intimately to anyone. Strange how Tim seemed to have easily settled into her life.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, silently relishing the intimate moment between them. Raven quickly learned into the relationship how much Tim enjoyed giving and receiving affection, a result from his own demons of the past. Giving affection so openly was something she gradually learned to do over time. Tim had a way of helping her learn and grow over the year.

She felt Tim shift and before she could acknowledge his change of emotions, she yelped softly as his leg slipped between hers and his foot brushed against her own. “Cold feet!” Raven gasped, trying to jerk her feet away as Tim wrapped his feet around her and pulled her against his chuckling chest.

“Share some body heat,” Tim chuckled against her hair and his legs held her own in place. He shifted again, enjoying the gentle press of her curves against him. Slipping his thigh just a little bit higher between her legs, he smiled as Raven shifted towards him, her thigh brushing against his own.

“I know what you’re doing,” there was an amused lilt in her voice. She could feel the hard press of him against her hip and she canted her hips just a little bit to brush against him. Raven hummed at Tim’s soft sigh.

“I know that there’s a no powers rule in this house,” Tim mumbled and his hand slipped over the curve of her ass and gently squeezed. He heard Raven hum against his chest. He felt her lean up and kiss the hallow of his neck. He bit back a groan as Raven shifted, deliberately brushing up against him. He squeezed her tightly, amused at her teasing. “But,” he breathed and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Do you think you could cast a silencing spell in this room or something?”

“Oh?” Raven breathed, look up at Tim in amusement. Her eyes danced in delight as nimble fingers slid under her shirt again and traced her spine. “What for?”

“Well,” whispered Tim and nudged her up to get her face closer to his. He grinned impishly at her amused face and briefly tipped forward to languidly kiss her, relishing the needy press of her lips and tongue against his own. Pulling away, he chuckled at the soft whine of protest and leaned forward to briefly kiss the crook of her neck before leaning into her ear. “I really don’t want anyone in this house to hear what’s about to happen in my childhood bedroom,”

An excited thrill ran down her back and Raven felt heat pool low in her stomach. “Oh?” she whispered catching the wolfish smile on Tim’s lips. She draped her right hand over Tim’s bare shoulder as he turned and pressed her into the mattress. Her fingers tingled with magic, spell ready at her fingertips, as she teasingly traced a protruding scar on his deltoid. “What’s going to happen?”

Tim clucked his tongue catching the teasing glint in her eyes. “I’ll have to show you then.”

Raven just had about enough sense and time to release the spell from her fingertips just as Tim’s fingers easily slipped underneath her pajama bottoms and inter sleek, hot heat. Legs spreading instantly, back arching, and jaw dropping at the delicious friction, Raven gasped loudly.

“TIM!”

Raven released a breathy gasp as fingers moved slowly into her. The rhythm slick wet noise of Tim’s fingers driving into her at a steady pace had heat pooling low in her abdomen and her legs quivered in anticipation. His fingers steadily increased their speed, drawing out long whines and soft moans from her.

Despite the cool Christmas air, she felt her skin warm as heat shot through her body. She felt Tim’s heady press of desire as he kissed the pulse point of her neck and teeth gently scraped against her sensitive skin. Raven whimpered as she felt him push and prod against the bundle of nerves, her hips gently thrusting against his fingers chasing for release. She felt herself so close to tumbling over the edge.

“Shhh,” Tim whispered teasingly, hooded eyes drinking in her undone state. Nipping the underside of her chin, he listened to her release another breathy whimper as he continued his steady ministration into her sleek heat. Over her gasps and groans, he could hear the wet sounds of his fingers pumping into her. His cock twitched in anticipation. “The others might hear you,” he teased, watching as she gasped and bucked into his hand. They were lucky she cast the silencing spell as Raven whimpered and fluttered around his fingers, release just a few strokes away.

“Please,” Raven herself tumbling towards the edge as her body quivered and she greedily devoured Tim’s lust and desires press into her. She whimpered as she felt him kiss her collar bone before pulling the strap of her camisole down to expose her right breast. She gasped and groaned as his tongue flittered around her nipple before teeth and tongue eagerly engulfed the sensitive bud.

With a nip to her nipple and a few more fast, measured thrusts of his fingers, Tim watched as Raven released a strangled cry and came totally undone. Drawing out her orgasm, his fingers curled and pumped into her fluttering heat, helping her tumble down the cliff.

Raven’s back arched off their bed as her world exploded and she continued to buck into Tim’s hand, riding out the high and soaring through an explosion of colors and sounds. She gasped and whimpered, fingers curling into his bicep to help ground her and gain some control.

Their movements slowed and Tim pressed a warm kiss against her cheek, watching as Raven slowly returned from her high. Pulling his fingers out of her, he watched as Raven whimpered and writhed at the loss of contact.

“Fuck,” Raven breathed, as her senses returned, and she lazily lolled her head towards Tim watching him pull his fingers out of her. Tim hummed thoughtfully, his gaze dropping from her rumpled pajama bottoms to his soaked fingers before licking her sticky juices from his fingers. Raven released another whimper as desire and heat seemed to flare low in her abdomen again as she watched him eagerly lap up her cum from his fingers. Fucking hell, the thought of their total debauchery in her Wayne manor a distant memory.

Pausing with his careful licking, Tim hummed and smiled at her. Drinking in her disheveled look, he leaned over her again and relished the beautiful release of pressing his straining cock against her hip. Rocking into her, Tim pressed a kiss onto her cheek. “We should have a Kinky Christmas,” he whispered and teasingly hooked his fingers into her pajama bottoms and underwear, nudging them down slowly.

Raven released a breathy laugh but found herself nodding. She felt Tim tug her pajama bottoms off her with a few more tugs and pulls of hands and feet. “Give Jason more things to tease us about?”

Tim clucked and chuckled, pressing another kiss into the hallow of her neck and listening to her breathy intake of breath. He quickly removed his own pants, sighing as his member sprang free and brushed against her thigh. “We got the silencing spell up,” he said while pushing her legs apart and settling in between them. They groaned as his member brushed against her core. “This will be our little Kinky Christmas celebration,”

Raven hummed, hands draping over his shoulders as she eagerly rocked into his hips in anticipation. The room was stifling, and she wanted so, so much more. Drinking in his heated stare, Raven gave him languid smile, and spread her legs just a little bit more.

“Then let the festivities begin,”

#TimRae #Tim Drake #Raven #Teen Titans fanfiction #TimRae Fanfiction #TimRae 2021 Year of Smut and Steam #not beta'd

[liquid-luck-00]

Connections 6

Chapter 6

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** First *** Previous *** Next

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Grandfather hated soulmates and the entire league shared that sentiment. His Mother was glad for the fact that he did not have any soul mark. That was good he wasn’t tied to anyone; he didn’t have to worry about it. It wasn’t until he was six that something changed, and he was thankful that he was alone in his room when it happened. A thought fluttered through his mind alone he instantly recognized was not his own.

An invisible bond. My soulmate will be affected by the *********** magic that affects me. They are my other half; I have to protect them.

“Tt” Damian allowed to be stated aloud. Protect me huh, as if! That was when it occurred to him I have a soulmate.

Damian bolted up and sat straight. If I have a soulmate and I just heard their thoughts. Well if this was their thoughts. Do they know mine. Damian was beginning to become infuriated with this new piece of knowledge, what struck him as odd was the fact that he felt like something was missing in the thought. It was as if that last piece could help him understand this peculiar event. In that moment, his mother came into his room.

“Damian it is time to go” His mother snapped him out of his thoughts, and he pushed this into the back of his mind. He followed his mother, and this was simply filled away in his mind under things that were useless or frustrating.

---

It wasn’t until three years later would his bond would infuriate him again. As far as he knew nothing was out of the ordinary. No one batted and eye when he already knew how to handle guns, they simply praised him for being a natural and he himself did not think of it either.

But then he had to get ready for the Lazarus Ritual. His mother came to retrieve him and then everything changed. He remembered walking behind his mother blinked and he was sitting in a large room. In his lap was a book filled with drawings. Wait what the Hell was he wearing. He looked at his hands and his skin was lighter, he was wearing a wait is this a skirt. Then he looked up and saw this thing. It was this little red blob with a black spot on its forehead between clear blue eyes. That was when he began to scowl.

The question left his lips before he could process anymore “Maza ank (What are you)?” he practically spat continuing still “Ayn anna (Where am I)?” the blob seemed to only stare in shock.

The little thing looked at him and then smiled. Why would it smile. “I’m Tikki and it is nice to meet you, soulmate to my chosen” it seemed to choose its words carefully, wait why did it respond in English. But it answered half of my question he was about to respond but this Tikki spoke again “As to where you are, I am not at liberty to say.”

He decided to shift to English as this creature seemed to speak it “What is the meaning of this soulmate to your chosen rubbish?”

“just as it sounds you are the soulmate of my chosen. You being here is a result of your bond.” He scowled and stared at the blob and it sighed. “You have an invisible bond but because your other half is my chosen you both have a bond different than anyone else’s on the planet.” He began to scowl harder if that was even possible. “this bond will only continue to grow but know that what one learns the other knows as well. I am assuming it is because of you that my chosen knows how to fight.”

This pulled at Damian’s interest they know how to fight because of me then what do I know because of them. He looked at the blob again and decided to ask “does your chosen know how to handle firearms, before today?” he half hoped he was wrong because if they did his soulmate may just be as dangerous as him if not more if this creature was anything to go off of.

It was quiet and then it nodded “yes my chosen has known how to handle firearms for years now.”

Shit. Well at least I know that they can handle themselves.

“I believe our time has come to an end. Until we meet once again soulmate of my chosen.” It spoke as he blinked and then he was standing on a balcony cliff overlooking the Lazarus pit as they took his grandfather out to his chambers. He dimly remembered his mother calling him and leaving him in his quarters. Then the memory of the ritual surfaced. It was odd he was watching it but it felt detached from himself almost like a video recording, there was no feeling just the ritual and the proceedings but he felt nothing from it.

---

Mari was going through her sketchbook talking about what she was planning for her dad, she blinked and she was walking behind a woman, her aura was deadly so she schooled her emotions and presented a blank face almost bored and then they exited the dark halls into an outcrop balcony of sorts overlooking a large cavern with a pool of bubbling acid green water on the other side.

She scanned the cave and then she noticed several people dressed in all black surrounding another man. From her vantage she saw a cruel face that was surrounded by black and white hair and beard. His eyes were the same acid green as the water and the aura around him as well. He wore a regal robe in a deep crimson accentuated by black and gold designs.

The cruel mad began to speak and she understood it as being Arabic.

“All here are to bear witness to the revitalization of the Demon Head. By the power of the Lazurus Pit…” more was said and then Marinette watched as the man took the robe off and stepped into the Pit. He completely submerged and the water glowed a sickly green and then he remerged. He put on the robe and continued to speak.

Mari knew that what she just witnessed was an abuse of the magic in the water, and she forced herself to remain impassive. She knew that everyone in the room would turn on her if she showed any emotion that would betray her. And then it hit her she knew no one and was talking with Tikki sitting in the parlor of Wayne Manor so how did she end up here. She watched as the man with cruel eyes left and she blinked again and then she saw Tikki staring at her expectantly, and she simply shook her head, Tikki looked sad and then Alfred came in.  

“Miss Mari” he tried to get her attention kneeling next to her on the couch, but she simply stared straight forwards. Everyone came into the room trying to find out why Alfred sounded frazzled.

Then she looked up and stared at Jason, she finally found her voice and asked “J… Jay… Jay-Jay why are… why are you covered in chaos magic” everyone was staring at her so she tried asking another way. “Why are you covered in magic from the Lazarus Pit?” everyone looked scared and now Mari was confused as well.

“How do you know that name, Mari?” Tikki asked her, breaking the silence.

“I” she didn’t know how to explain what just happened to her “I just heard it, I saw it, it was it was like a ritual”

“Tikki is this normal for a miraculous holder” Bruce asked looking at Tikki hoping for an answer

Tikki simply shook her head “No it isn’t. seeing the Lazarus arura is for a Ladybug, but this knowledge is not normal…” then she stopped ad gave Mari a knowing and sad smile. “Mari do you think?” Tikki didn’t have to finish the question for Mari to understand.

As Tikki asked her everything seemed to fall into place she was close to crying from fear or joy she didn’t know. “it might be, it’s the most logical.”

“What does this incur exactly?” Alfred spoke from kneeling beside Marinette.

“Her soulmate” Tikki said and that left everyone quiet once again. “Mari knows how to fight, that much you know but what you don’t is that she has never had any type of training. The same goes for several languages she has never studied, she can read a person’s body language without any difficulty, and now this.” Everyone was staring at her now almost like they knew something that she didn’t and that scared her.

Bruce kneeled down and pulled Mari into a hug. And whispered in her ear quiet enough so no one else heard but her “I’ll explain but for now it is okay to cry if your scared something must have happened for this to affect you so much”

Her eyes widened in surprise before she began to cry, and Bruce took her in his arms and together with Tikki left the parlor to her room.

---

Once they were in Mari’s room Bruce wrapped her in a blanket and sat next to her on the bed when the door opened. There stood Jason in front and right behind him were Dick and Tim, further in the hallway was probably Alfred. Bruce glared at them and they closed the door and heard several pairs of feet leave.

Bruce sighed and shared a look with Tikki before he spoke “Pixie do you know what the Lazarus Pit is?”

She shook her head no “not completely, no.”

“What do you know?” this time Tikki spoke.

“I could tell it was filled with magic. It was a pool of bubbling acid green water.”

“you said it was like a ritual can you explain” Bruce tried to keep his voice level. He had hoped to never have to explain this to Mari, Mari looked down into her lap and Tikki flew into her sights.

“He said it was a Revitalization Ritual. Something about a Demon”

He was surprised when Tikki started to speak. “The Lazarus Pit was created by a wish combining the miraculous of the Ladybug and the Black cat. The Ladybug magic allows anyone touched by the water to be revived, healed, and extends their life. It was created by the first wish. However, the Black cat’s magic breaks the soul of the person it touches, thus making them quick to anger and dangerous there is only one exception, but it is more of a rumor as it has never happened.”

Bruce asked without thinking “Can you heal someone from the pit after they come back?” If this is true we can help Jason.

“It is possible, but it would only be stated in the grimoire, and it was lost along with the peacock and Butterfly miraculous” Bruce couldn’t help the small frown but it was soon replaced by shock as little Mari hugged him.

“We will help Jay-Jay with or without magic” Bruce let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and hugged Mari.

“I know” he then looked at the girl and he now continued. “The Pit is controlled by a group called the League of Assassins and the Demon you heard of is a man by the name of Ra’s al Ghul.”

Mari looked pensive “Tall, cruel acid green eyes with black and white hair and beard” she stated as if recalling something.

Bruce just looked at her shocked “yes” he couldn’t believe this how did sweet little Mari meet such a man. “How. How do you know him?”

“I saw him during the ritual” this just brought up more questions, but all his questions died on his lips as he saw Tikki rise.

“Mari you swapped with your soulmate today” she stated it as a fact as if she knew and was confirming it. Mari nodded her head, and Tikki sighed. “I spoke with them while you were swapped it happened right before Alfred came into the room. They were direct and to the point, and I don’t think they knew that they even had a soulmate until today.”

This was news but then again knowing Ra’s despises weakness any assassin in training under him would as well. It also figures if it is an invisible bond, they are so rare that there is very little known how they interact with the soul. In this moment he knew that he would protect the little pixie in front of him wrapped up in a blanket, and he knew that her ‘Brothers’ would protect her as well.

Next

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