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#I saw the gas gun too and like
redfurrycat · 1 year
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🐓🌉👻🤠Just Like Heaven AU🤠👻🌉🐓
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Jake Seresin works at the San Francisco General Hospital as a pediatrician whose patients absolutely adore him. His job is everything to him: he lives and breathes being a doctor. His best friend Dr Machado, a renowned surgeon, tries desperately to set him up on dates, but Jake always makes excuses and leaves his dates hanging.  
However, after invoking the Bro Pact, Javy manages to make Jake promise he’ll come at his house for dinner (and a blind date, but Jake doesn’t know it). On his way to Javy’s, Jake is in a car accident and falls into a coma.
A few months later, Bradley Bradshaw finds a very nice apartment in San Francisco which he takes a sublet on. Bradley is a grieving dad, his daughter Elizabeth Natasha Bradshaw, or Lizzie-Nat, died of an undiagnosed  disease, and Bradley still feels responsible. He thinks he should have seen his daughter wasn’t feeling very well much sooner, maybe then…?
Couch-potatoeing and drinking become Bradley’s daily life. The man can’t work anymore, it’s too painful: he used to be a voice actor for kids shows; shows his daughter loved to listen to because of his dad’s voice. And despite his best friend and firefighter Natasha’s best efforts (to matchmake, amongst other things), Bradley becomes a reclusive.
Until one day, a blonde man inserts himself into Bradley’s home and life, and begins to boss the guy around (“Step off that perch of yours, Bradley McNugget Bradshaw!”). However, Bradley is convinced he’s become crazy as he’s the only one able to see the infuriating man and talk to him…
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radiance1 · 5 months
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Okay guys.
Dragon Danny, this time not eastern.
BUT HEAR ME OUT, HEAR. ME. OUT.
He's made of....
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GOO!
Not just any goo, obviously. But ectoplasmic goo :3
This au is gonna be disconnect from both the Ghost King and Ghost Prince headcanon I should say. Instead of being king of all ghosts, he's basically like...
A mega Blob ghost.
King of the Blob ghosts, even.
Like, basically the equivalent of those giant slime monsters or that King slime boss from Terraria but a dragon!
Whenever he's in dragon form, he can choose if he wants legs or not, if he doesn't, he basically just moves like, well, a snail. Obviously faster than a snail, but still. He doesn't leave a trail behind most of the time though, because he actually needs that stuff thank you very much and leaving a trail behind is pretty messy obviously.
Whenever he uses legs he just walks as any other two legged creature.
Because of his unique biology, he can basically shift between Eastern and Western dragon form at will. He can manipulate his body far more than that, but anyways.
So, Danny has outlived his friends and family, so there isn't much for him to really, well, do anymore. Like, at all.
The GIW was and still is persistent as ever though. Even if he's outlived the original members that were gunning for him.
Apparently, becoming a goo dragon and ascending to his status as King of the Blob ghosts bumped up both his valuableness and his threat simultainously.
Which he guesses is fair because if he saw a guy turn into a giant dragon and he doesn't have a positive relationship with he would see him as a threat too.
So, how did this lead to him being locked up inside of a heavily fortified base created explicitly for him to be contained within.
Well, funny story that (It's not).
He was just minding his business, having recently broken out of another containment facility by the GIW to try and contain him, and he went back to the forest near Amity Park to just chill as he always did.
A few... weeks? Months? He honestly couldn't remember, he was confronted by the GIW. Didn't take them seriously, got this gas/liquid thing shoved inside of him, knocked out, then woke up in contaiment.
Which is basically a giant hole in the ground.
Except that it's a high-tech hole in the ground.
Something, something, ectoplasmic suppressors or whatever that leave him less able to manipulate his own ectoplasm, which is a bummer. He can still manipulate it, of course, just to a far less degree than he could've before, along with that liquid that'll be pumped into him via some metal round in the ground directly below him whenever he gets too rowdy.
Well.
Consider him effectively contained.
So, time passes, how much he couldn't tell you since his concept of time is warped after living for so long plus, it's not like anyone there would really tell him if he asked now would they?
However, today seemed to be an exciting day, because something was happening.
He could see it in the way scientists scramble for an exit and how the guards run through his area. Of course, some still stay to 'guard' him, since he thinks he's some kind of priceless item.
A scientist's words, not his, but being referred to as priceless is nice.
And then wouldn't you know it?
That one scientist that said they would do their best to help him actually pulled through with their words! Thanks, Henry, he has decided that he will not kill you!
(He wasn't going to do it anyways, but it's fun to scare people.)
With both the guards gone, the ectoplasmic suppressors down, and no one to stick that liquid shit into his system.
Well.
You can say he finally gets to go apeshit.
And a dragon is a formidable foe any day. Add to that a rampaging, bored of his mind, petty, dragon that's able to manipulate himself however he wants?
Even better situation for him, how the facility is seemingly being raided right now!
Danny then, no warning, shoves Henry inside of himself. For protection, and then continues his rampage.
Meanwhile, the Justice League, the ones raiding said facility, is currently here because of the Anti-Ecto Acts.
A set of laws they do not, and will not, stand by.
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Danny after a reveal gone wrong, is dropped into the DC universe by clockwork to "recover and let loose"
He learned that because this universe is swarming with heros it dosent reeeaaallly need protection
So for the first 2 months danny juat relaxes, using his connection with the ghosts and shades of gothem to get himself a pretty good appartment with a fair amount of free time amd cash
What he wasent expecting was for the ghosts of residential obsessed billionaire bruceie wayne's parents, thomas and martha, to ask him to protect bruce
Danny thinks it over and decided, 'fuck it, how much work could it be, besides i need to protect someone anyway'
.
.
.
Danny was contemplating walking up and punching batman in the face
Turns out the obsessed billionaire, is a parinoid creepy emotionally constipated vigilante
It was 3 weeks into protecting thomas and Martha's "little boy" and danny was already sick of it, and of bruce, the comious amounts of time danny spent knocking out goons was ridiculous, let alone and amount of times he needed to help out the robins
And how the fuck did he raise them, the little one is so violent he could rival the way his parents talked about ghosts
It was after mid afternoon, after danny day job and he's waiting for the sun to go down to keep mr.dark and brooding safe
It was then that another shade plopped itself on his lap, this one specifically had been following him for the last few days
It was 10 minutes later that the little shade gave him an idea, an amazing idea of how to make protecting the dumb fuck that was bruce wayne MUCH more fun, danny looked at the sun and he knew he had time
.
.
.
He got black cargo pants, a black tank top, a labcoat that he dyed toxic green, a white gas mask, one of those belts construction people wear to hold tools and stuff, combat boots, white gloves and a crap ton of scrap metal, househole appliances and a tool box
He spent the next 5 hours constructing little gadgets, remaking the fenton-thermos-model human and preparing for a night out.
.
.
.
Danny was set
In his labcoat was the hand held stuff
:extra tools, retractable boe staff, smoke bombs, mini fire works, trackers
In his cargo pants he had the more heave hitters: the guns he designed, more smoke bonbs, lipstick lazers, wire
But his belt was his favourite: the now human souping thermos, a harly quinn inspired mallet and the ectoplasm grenades,
Tonights going to be fun
.
.
.
Batman saw alot of things, lately things have been too easy, he got hit less, goons attacks hurt less and sometimes his rouge took too long to atrack ofter breaking out of arkham
It had set him on edge
Even his kids said things seemed easer, so he's not paranoid
Tonight however gave him many more questions
During the usual fight with riddler, a kid slightly younger than tim, wearing a gas mask, dropped from the roof like the spawn of satan, dropped smoke bombs, then the sounds of violence accured
when bruce could see again, all the goons were strung up on wire upsidedown
The riddler was tied to a chair which was hanging by one leg over a vat of...something with a smile drawn on his face and his eyes blindfolded
When he looked up the labcoat wearing kid was holding a mallet and a grenade of some kind
:awww dont worry, none of them will die, I'm like you in that sence, i dont kill people...howeverrr messing with them is fair game
Batman tried to stare him down but that made the kid laugh
:aww that wont work B, besides if i wanted to hurt you I'd of done it in the last 3 weeks
So this was why things were easer
With one last laugh the kid dropped the bomb and Lazarus filled Bruce's sights
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captainmalewriter · 7 months
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The Long Game
I sat in the passenger seat of the car as I waited for my new boyfriend Steven to come back from the gas station. He came back after a couple of minutes and hopped into the driver's seat. I couldn't help but smile like a ninny as my handsome boyfriend jumped back behind the wheel. It was truly a happy moment for me, but I knew something that could make it even better!
"Hey babe?" I started. He turned to me with big puppy eyes, practically begging me to give him more of my attention. "It's kinda hot in here... Do you wanna take off your shirt? I bet you'll feel better!"
"You're right, my love, hold on a sec..."
I watched with a wide grin as he got out of the car and took off his shirt. He then got back in, now shirtless and body on full display.
"Hey babe? Have you been hitting the gym a lot lately? You're looking swole as fuck right now... do you wanna show off?"
Steven smirked, then proceeded to flex his muscular arms right in front of me. I had a clear view to the gun show and I was loving it!
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It was crazy to think that it was only three short months ago Steven was dating my sister. We first met after she brought him to a family barbecue. I knew from the first time I laid eyes on him that I wanted him for myself.
And so, I got to work. Everytime I saw him, I made sure to leave subtle yet powerful subliminal messaging for him. I knew how to use my words and I knew how people worked on a psychological level. Put those things together, and I was a natural at hypnotizing others. I made sure to keep my hypnotic work on the downlow so nobody would notice what I was doing or that Steven was slowly but surely changing as he fell under my spell.
Hey Steven, wanna go work out with me?
Hey Steven, wanna go to the pool with me?
Hey bro, wanna spend more time with me?
Hey bro, wanna share a bed with me?
Hey, do you think you like boys too?
Hey, wanna go on a date?
Hey babe, wanna have some fun tonight?
I used phrases and questions like the ones above to lure him in. I had to make sure he kept his decision making power while I merely suggested things to him. That way, he wouldn't even notice he was falling under my hypnotic words! I also made sure to spread out my suggestions throughout a long period of time (about five months) before I started making real progress on my goal. What can I say, the power of suggestion was a waiting game, but it was a game I was a professional at!
It took a while but surely enough, I noticed the desired changes in Steven. As I went deeper with the hypnosis, Steven became much more comfortable with me. He became playful with how physically affectionate he was. Of course, because I was the one who became his object of desires, I was always showered by his shameless display of affection. Kinda like a puppy, but it was just the way I liked him.
At the final stage of hypnosis, he finally broke up with my sister and was incredibly ecstatic when I asked if he wanted to go out with me. His pupils had become incredibly dilated due to the hypnosis, but that'll go away with time. I'll also slowly stop suggesting things once he's fully settled in the role I gave him. It'll probably take another month or two. But in the meantime, we'll continue being the best, most-in-love boyfriends this world has ever seen!
"Hey babe, wanna make out in the back seats?"
"Of course, my love, I'd love that."
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archieimagines · 1 year
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Imagine finding Niragi after the Beach.
first time writing aib! i haven't written in a while so i was definitely a little rusty, but i'll have more free time from now on so ideally the next ones will be better! warnings: niragi. a drastically unhealthy relationship (of course), niragi slander, burn injuries and gore, guns, problematic grief, mentions of massacre. if you have any triggers i doubt you'd want to even look at this man, apologies. requested by: @nonsocosamett3r3. can't tag, but i hope you see this! for now, aib requests are open! written by: archie support me on ko-fi!
The store was quiet, only tainted by the sound of lit gas heating your ramen and the quiet bubbling of the soup.
Your eyes fixed on the flame like it was magnetic. After the horrors of the Beach, something just drew you to it. That little flame…
Amazing.
Amazing how something so small could grow so big that it would engulf the whole resort. The whole community. Your whole future, and who you'd planned to spend it with.
You’d loved Suguru for so long, even before you’d arrived in this world. You’d vowed to love him as long as you were alive, but that was before he’d given into his brewing internal sickness.
It hurt too hard to think it. It utterly carved your heart to think that his only relief from himself might take fire and flames. The only way to be kind to him would be to let him die, and finally, it came. He was better off dead, and yet... you couldn’t help aching for him.
He was the one person you’d come into this with. The one person you knew you could trust. Even when he was at his worst. 
You shook your head. It wouldn’t do to dwell on how he’d protected you from the witch trial. How he’d given you a pistol and told you to hide on the roof. “Wait for me up there,” he’d said, a firm hand on your back to nudge you towards the stairs, his spare pistol pressed into your palms. “Anyone aims at you and they’re dead.”
Even at his worst, his most unhinged, he still took care of you. He was never all ba-
No. Thinking like this would only make it harder. You needed to focus on how he was a murderer, how he was manic, how he embodied all of humanity’s darkest traits. Perhaps then, you could function in this world without him.
A sigh. The cooker’s flame danced before you, and all you could see in your mind was Niragi. How the fire clung to him. How he screamed and thrashed—
You shut the gas off.
No, you couldn’t look at it. The flame.
The spices in the ramen no longer smelled good; they churned your stomach and the burn of suppressed tears sat in your sinuses. Your head dropped into your hands, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes. You wouldn’t cry over him. He was a murderer. A sadistic, psychopathic, narcissistic—
A clatter behind you.
“Auh, phuck.”
Panic pushed you to your feet, your breath hitched. You’d perched in the homewares aisle with your campfire cooker, and wherever that distorted voice came from was barely two aisles back.
It was so dark, you were so tired, and so many people hated you. Not even through any fault of your own. You didn’t choose to love the most hated man at the Beach. You were an easy target and anyone who recognised you surely wouldn’t hesitate, so you grabbed for the pistol from your belt and readied yourself for an assault. You’d not die at the hands of an angry Beach resident tonight.
Slow footsteps took you through the store, startled every time you heard a grunt or a clash. Someone was rummaging through the shelves and audibly struggling.
The smash of a glass bottle on the floor, then a strained voice. “Phuckin ‘ell.”
You neared the corner of the aisle and peered around, pistol held out before you. You only hoped they couldn’t hear the trembling rattle of your hold on it.
What you saw was inconclusive. Someone with a flashlight held in their mouth, pointed at shelves full of medical wares. They struggled with gathering supplies, knocking them over instead and hissing in pain, but you couldn’t gather a single feature.
This was your chance to strike a new alliance. They were clearly wounded and in no fighting condition, so you could easily best them if you needed to, but… Would it really be worth it to make a connection with someone that may surely hold back your chances in a game?
You had half a mind to turn away, leave them to their own struggling devices-
But the choice was taken. A loud groan and the flashlight dropped from the person’s mouth, clattered to the floor, and rolled a few inches.
The stream of light pointed directly to your shoe and lit up the tip of your weapon.
You might’ve expected the person to be startled with the realisation that they weren’t alone, to stumble back or at least gasp. But instead, you were met with an audible sneer.
“Ah. Gonna kill me?”
The end of your pistol still pointed into the darkness, though you could just barely see the silhouette of your target. And oh, you quivered. Your aim was as fractured as your heart, and you’d never held anyone in place with your aim before. It was clear to see.
A familiar snort. “You couldn’t hit me if you tried.”
Your brows tugged together. Your voice had left you entirely, chest heaving with the growing panic at how this tall figure found no sense of danger in you. And yet, that voice was so…
“S-Suguru?”
“Oh?” A beat of silence, and then a soft, sore laugh. “I taught you better than to tremble, baby.”
You almost dropped the pistol. It couldn’t be. You’d seen him fall off the roof shrouded in flame, and it’d been long days. Death was the only escape for him, and he needed it. But here he was, and you couldn’t help but hope it was true.
You dove for that flashlight to check that your wants hadn’t deceived you and scooped it up to point directly at Niragi to take him in in all his… misery.
Your heart broke. The sound of it was a distraught gasp, instant tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Suguru…”
His gorgeous skin was rippled with the fusion of the fire. His hair ragged and burnt, chest and arms crimson, raw and leaking with infectious fluids.
His face scrunched with immediate hatred, his voice a pained hiss as he turned away. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking pity me.”
“I’m not-“
“Don’t.”
Ah, this was your Suguru. Blunt and dismissive, hostile even to you, but you knew how to handle him. You didn’t let him see dizzying wave of relief that drowned you, you held back those tears. Even if he was the most hated man in this realm, he was yours. You weren’t alone in this world anymore.
You took a brief moment to breathe and let your head calm before stepping in close, light shining on his arms. The skin had melted, black patches of fabric stuck into his skin, all the way up to his bare torso. But he didn’t like you looking.
He snatched away the light and the next thing you knew, you were blinded. Your eyes squinted against it, blinking, brows tugged together as you tried to seek out his face once more against the light.
A delicate hand to your cheek, a soft sigh. That was the sound of lazy Sunday mornings with him, the sound he’d always made with his nose buried into your hair.
You let your eyes close, transporting back to simpler times with his touch. His thumb ran so gently across your cheekbone and for the briefest moment you could pretend things were normal, that he was just your boyfriend back in Tokyo. Your beautiful, troubled, bespectacled boyfriend.
If only he didn’t smell of ash and molten flesh, you could have convinced yourself that nothing had changed.
His touch dropped away, the light directed away and your eyelids fluttered open once more. His gaze was so soft on yours. How could this boy with beautiful doe eyes ever hurt another? Perhaps… Just perhaps, he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t deserve this life.
“Let me see,” you murmured, carefully taking the flashlight from his hold. He was like a lost child as he watched you inspect his chest, so gentle as you opened his shirt to see the scarring. You couldn’t help the grimace as you peeled some of the sticky fabric from yellowed, skinless flesh, but he didn’t even wince. He just watched you quietly, intimately.
You met that gaze, and the butterflies in your chest were dizzying. “I’ll dress it for you. Okay?”
A grunt of agreement.
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sasayego · 4 months
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lazy sundays
prompt — your fiancé, dick grayson, is the love of your life. was. you think he’s dead, but in reality, he’s out there as a spyral agent. meanwhile, you start appreciating the little things more.
tags — reader got out of an ED, mental health issues. angst and comfort, dick grayson x fem!reader. sfw
jason todd was the one who was attracted to you first. he saw you at a wayne gala and thought you were the love of his life. he asked you out, and you immediately said yes, intimidated by the fact that a wayne was the one who noticed you.
dick didn’t even notice you, which you didn’t mind too much. jason was all that you needed. he was kind and funny but he had this really annoying behavior where he would scream at you in fights. like, scream. one night, things got heated and he left into the night, leaving you behind to go outside, no doubt to clear his mind.
you decided to take care of yourself and make it up to him, so, you had finished his laundry. when putting his clothes away, you noticed a very red helmet with another suit with keys in them. you would’ve thought that it was a cute cosplay prop if the keys didn’t open up a drawer with all sorts of guns in the bottom drawer.
you would’ve freaked out if the radio next to his guns didn’t just go static with —“fuck—nightwing here—wounded on fifth—.” and your blood went cold. jason todd? knew who nightwing was?
you didn’t even think about it, think if it was a trap. you took the radio and drove where nightwing said he was injured. nobody responded and you were praying that he was alive.
and that was when dick grayson, really, really saw you. saw your perseverance, your stubborn nature and how you always looked to the brighter sides of things even when he was stabbed in several places with a split rib and a gash to his head.
you were not a doctor, god no, you were in the beginning of your master’s degree, but with strength that rivaled a mother whose child was underneath a car, you managed to pick him up and put him in your car.
“so jason told you who I am? the little shit. he was supposed to talk to bruce before he revealed our identities. that’s what I get for having a love struck brother, huh?”
you stopped halfway and then looked at him in shock, your mouth open in a slight ‘o’. and he realized that you didn’t know, that your boyfriend of seven months was hiding things from you.
“just take me to bruce’s. say you know, and say I need help.” you let out a groan at it and press on the gas.
jason wasn’t to be found for the next few days. dick was though.
when he recovered and appeared at your doorstep with flowers and a sheepish smile, a cast and a boyish smile that felt like infidelity, your face flushed and you took them happily.
“thanks for saving me,” he said, and leaned against the doorway. unlike jason, his mannerisms and way of acting came easy, smoother, a better flow. and you fell so bad just thinking that. “may I come in?”
and against your better judgment, you stepped side. “mi casa es tu casa.”
his eyes twinkled at that. “tu casa es muy hermosa,” he said. “como el tuyo.”
“you know spanish?”
“I know mandarin, spanish, french, romansh, german, portuguese, hindi, japanese, and arabic. well, learning. dami’s teaching me that one.”
your jaw drops. “I just know english, my mother tongue, and high school spanish.”
“still better than 90% of america.”
that was how it started—he met you every so often, taking coffee out, mini golfing, kayaking, while jason grew ever so distant in the corner. you couldn’t blame jason for it, either. it wasn’t like you were making much of an effort to revive the relationship.
but everything changed that one night when jason asked you to go to a wayne gala with him. out of all his siblings, he had chosen the short straw this time. you said no—you didn’t want to go to another one of them and get hounded by paparazzi at this point.
and jason was fine with that. it wasn’t like he particularly liked going to galas anyways, so he understood your denial. until an hour later when on instagram in one of the more popular news sites, a viral photo of you and dick hugging in the rain together and staring at each other after getting a hole in one in a really hard mini golfing course started circling around.
“what the fuck is wrong with you? are you fucking him? don’t even answer that, I can tell. and even if you aren’t, I know you want to.”
“no, jason, what the fuck is wrong with you? I haven’t done anything with dick, nor do I want to. we’re friends.”
“you don’t underhand, y/n. I’m gonna be the guy that the papers make fun of once you leave me for him. so I’ll do what you don’t have the guts to. we’re done.”
your world didn’t shatter because of that, surprisingly. he moved out of your apartment. you watched gilmore girls reruns. you ate a lot of food. some cried tears, but nothing much. until one day, dick appeared at your door out of the blue.
"dick?" you raised an eyebrow, looking at him with an unsure look in your eye. "what are you doing here?" you were wearing your sweats with a dumbed down look in your eye that clearly stated you didn't know what the hell was happening.
"i'm in love with you. i'm sorry—but i can't stop thinking about you. your laugh is infectious and when you smile it's like a cloudy sky just turns back to sunshine—"
you stepped forward and kissed him. you thought the tabloids were full of shit, but you knew that they were right about this one thing.
after two years of dating, he had done a vigilante trip to india to track down some passages. while he was there, he went and bought a shiny ring. you'd marry him with paper rings. he planned a view of a skyline and it went perfectly, thank god.
but he died. he died and now you're sitting here in the apartment, staring at a photo of the two of you. you miss everything about him. the way he'd subtly add more food to your plate when you were having your ED. when he held you throughout the night after a panic attack even though he had patrol that day. when. he defended you from the paparazzi, when he screamed at jason right back when jason found out that you and dick were dating.
don't tell me you're staring at that damned photo. - tim
you look at your phone and sigh before closing down your phone. tim wouldn't understand. he wouldn't get it. how could he? it wasn't like he lost the love of his life. he was a robin. he knew loss. you didn't. he also lost his brother, you remind yourself, and that just makes it all worse.
you grab the photo and curl up in a ball in fetal position. you miss lazy sunday afternoons when you've eaten too much and that food is resting in your stomach. your head would be in your fiancé's lap and his hands would be in your hair and the minute he would move his hands from your hair or your back, you'd wake up, your body discomforted by the lack of touch. that's my superpower, you'd joke.
no, he'd respond. your superpower is being the most amazing and talented woman i have ever had the pleasure of meeting. i would do anything for you. your beauty rivals the stars in the night sky. i love you like how the moon loves the earth.
at the single thought of it, you curl up and sob, the tears racking down as you clench the photos to your heart. five months and thirteen days and you are not a single second away from properly healing. you'll never love again. you know that for a fact.
it's ten in the night when you wake up, and the couch is stained with tears. haley is right beside you, looking sad and sullen. she misses her best friend too, but she always hates it when her other best friend is crying.
"i haven't fed you? fuck," you swear before standing up. everything hurts. your heart feels too heavy. there's cuts on your wrists. you stare at them, the red from the blood dried up.
he also stares at them too. he vows that he's coming back no matter what.
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bellarkeselection · 3 months
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Halstead’s Favorite Duo
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Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.
My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.
The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”
“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.
Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.
“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”
He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”
“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.
Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.
“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.
Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”
“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.
Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”
“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.
Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”
“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.
He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”
“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.
Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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mikareo · 5 months
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⌗ SNOWDROP ₊ ˖ ་. nagi seishiro x fem reader (5.4k)
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⊹ ⠀⠀ it's the end of the world and he's possibly the most unprepared person alive…perhaps he can rely on the pretty girl with perfect aim who just so happened to save his life at the very last second. he’s never been in love but maybe this love could last…so long as the both of you stay alive.
contains; resident evil inspired, badass agent!reader, helpless civilian!nagi, zombie apocalypse, guns, knives, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluffy flirting, love at first sight, major character death, reo cameo!!!!, cannibalism (zombies) author's note; this fic destroyed my sanity, but i hope u like it! there are parts that are so unserious asjkl just trust me that it's a good read and pt2 is gonna be fucking crazy
⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ videogame au milestone collab masterlist !
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This can’t be happening. There’s no way this is actually fucking happening right now. 
He’s sprinting at full speed, his laces are barely tied, and the smoke in the air is surely clogging his lungs into a blackened pulp of nothingness. To be quite frank, Nagi would rather have those poisoned lungs than discover whatever the hell happened to his neighbors down the hall…because damn they look like they’re in some rough shape. With their sunken eyes, flaking skin, and very obvious urge to suddenly turn to cannibalism, that’s not really his vibe…but that’s a falling telephone pole! Holy shit that’s a falling telephone pole coming straight his way in 3…2…1. JUMP!
Whew, that was a close one. Good thing he’s tall!
The shift in humanity didn’t exactly happen overnight. It was actually just twenty minutes ago when his peace was so rudely interrupted. There he was, snuggled up in his gaming chair with a fresh bag of Cool Ranch Doritos opened and ready to meet his belly, when he finally beat the last level of his new favorite game; only to discover that those screams of terror and fear…yea those weren’t coming from his PC and his living room window is now a pile of ash. Nagi doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much red and yellow in his life, all of it becoming one big blur of flames that he somehow jumped through and landed on the street below— thankfully he lives on the ground floor, otherwise his body would join his couch in a pile of broken limbs. Damn, this is all such a hassle.
No one would be able to guess what it was that caused this chaos…okay, actually it’s not too out of this world; just a commercial jet falling from the sky with a monstrous thing (??) crawling out of the window onto the streets of Tokyo, whilst an oddly green gas dilutes the air.
Yeah, not too crazy— but just crazy enough to make even Nagi Seishiro, laziest man on earth, leave the comfort of his homely apartment to find his neighborhood in complete and utter chaos. He even saw his delivery man devouring the convenience store owner that always gives him an extra bonus off his nightly midnight snack. Man, he loved that guy. That’s a sight that’ll make him shudder for years to come; assuming he can stay alive for the next however many hours and days this newfound apocalypse is going to take.
Nagi thinks it’s been nearly an hour since he started running and he didn’t even know he had this much stamina in him. Maybe he’s secretly a superhuman or another one of the monsters the city has been consumed by— or perhaps his adrenaline rush is nearly infinite since he’s never utilized it in his entire life. He’s not sure of the logistics. He failed high school biology…and chemistry…and physics. There’s a reason why he turned to gaming and shied away from college. This thrill and rush isn’t meant for him. He’s a couch potato that wants to do nothing but rot and enjoy the satisfying ding Twitch gives him whenever he receives a new sub. His generation needs instant gratification…and right now? Well, he’s in desperate need of some water. 
Hesitantly, Nagi rounds into the glass doors of the nearest and safest looking building he happens to see— which is luckily a convenience store similar to the one near his apartment. He’s more than surprised when the automatic doors open in a pinch and he’s able to enter with no difficulty. The store is somehow in little disarray, with its grocery items on the shelves in their rightful spots and few sparse bags of chips laying on the tile floor. However, what is in disarray is the pharmacy section. There are drugstore pills scattered everywhere. He can’t even tell what kind of medications were being scavenged in a clear panic for medical amenities, and highly doubts that whoever was searching for supplies was able to get any with the state the back of the store is in. The font on the labels is so small that Nagi, the man who stares at a screen all day, can’t decipher what they say; and he’s assuming that whoever was in here is long dead and gone. But then again…
…he’s never been the kind of guy who’s always right.
“I come in peace!” His voice is two octaves higher than it normally is. If this were a choir audition, he’d absolutely ace it. “I swear I just came for some water! Please don’t kill me, zombie, please!”
Both of his eyes are shut whilst he awaits his inevitable demise, assuming that the unknown presence in the room likely has an appetite for human organs. There were so many things he wanted to do with his life…like ride a hot air balloon? Actually, that would be really hot if he were that close to the sun. Surf in the Caribbean? Ew, he could get bit by a crab. Get a girlfriend? He can’t complain about that one, that would be very very nice. 
Oh no, he’s already getting eaten…he can practically hear her imaginary laughter already.
“Really? Those are your last words?”
Zombies can talk?
Nagi fearfully inches one eye open to see the most gorgeous person he thinks he’s seen in his entire life. Sure, you look a little disheveled— with your soaked hair and dirt-crusted skin— but to him, you look like something out of his imagination. The female protagonist that he could only dream about campaigning with in a first-person-shooter game, and would later search for a worthy poster to stick on his wall. If love at first sight is real, then this is definitely it. The only issue? Your barrel is pointing straight at his face.
“You’re going to shoot me?” He exclaims, scrambling to back up but ultimately tripping on his own laces and landing on his ass. “Ah shit, that hurts.”
Elegantly, you rush to his side. “You have injuries?” With eyes scanning over every inch of his body, there’s genuine concern dripping from your tongue like honey. Your voice is like a melody, oh man. Nagi thinks he’s a goner— not because he could be eaten by zombies, but because he feels like he’d jump in front of a moving bus to protect you. Pfft, and some protection he’s doing, embarrassing himself like this…
“Nope, nothing’s hurt…” he mumbles, sitting up with an attempted nonchalant look on his face. “...only my ego.”
A small smile reveals itself before him and your eyes crinkle as you let out a little laugh, and instantly he’s almost more obsessed with you. It’s as if you’re some higher being that he was blessed to see on his final day on earth, with golden rays radiating from your skin and big irises that he could drown in. Perhaps if it weren’t the end of the world, the two of you could’ve walked to this store together— holding hands and speaking softly about your shared interests and passions— and he could make you laugh a million times and more…now that he’s really thinking about it, you’re the first girl he’s made laugh probably ever and he really wishes there wasn’t a menacing zombie apocalypse getting in the way of his beautiful fantasy. 
“I’m assuming you’re alone?” You stand up, looking down at him. 
Alone as in single or…
“You don’t have any family that you escaped with?”
…okay not alone as in single. Got it.
“It’s just me,” Nagi stands to his feet and is loving your shocked reaction to his towering height. “My family’s overseas right now, so I think they’re alright. I mean, I hope they’re alright. I don’t have any service to reach them, right now. My phone is down.”
You nod, reaching in your bag for something he can’t quite see. What he can see, though, is the massive shotgun strapped to your back and three large cartridges hanging from your belt— somehow you’re able to carry all that and four grenades, two handguns, and six rolls of bandages in that pack of yours, which you lay out for him so lovingly on the floor. 
“Take what you need.” Oh hell, what has he gotten himself into?
As he backs up cautiously, realization dawns upon your face. “You’ve never done this before have you?” 
“Is living through a zombie apocalypse a common experience?” His mouth is agape. “Yeah, sorry…can’t say this isn’t the first time for me.”
A sigh slips from your lips and you gather your things, packing everything into your bag except for a standard handgun. Nagi can feel his heartbeat picking up as you take three steps closer to him. One. Two. Three. He wishes you’d chosen to take a fourth— that way you’d be nose to nose, he’d get to see your beauty up close, and then memorize the curves and features of your face— which he’d surely never forget as he’d think about them morning, night, and day. He’d love to fantasize about you for hours but you have other plans, dropping said standard handgun into his palms. 
“Just aim for the head, okay?” 
Um. No. Not okay. 
“I don’t really shoot real guns…” he rambles, attempting to get rid of the deadly weapon you’ve so casually given him. “I’m more of a lover, y’know? Talk things out instead of shooting things in between their eyes? I like digital zombies! Yeah, those guys are chill…love ‘em so much…please take this away from me.”
You shake your head, already on your way out of the door. “Nope, you’re coming with me.”
“Why?” If this were a video game, there’d be a massive exclamation point flashing above his head, along with a grave that he could crawl into instead of joining you on this suicide mission. Being six feet under sounds pretty nice right about now…but he’s sure that the look you’re giving him is more deadly than any threat outside. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help to you.”
“Nagi, is it?” You clarify, to which he nods. “There are only two choices right now, and I know we just met but I’d rather you live than die. You’re tall. Your height is going to give you a range advantage when we’re out there, and I can already tell that you have great spatial awareness…not many people would’ve noticed me in the shadows. You know this area far better than I do, and sure, you’ve never held a gun before, but you’ve got to fight to live.”
As your voice continues in a soft-spoken tone, he’s mesmerized. “I want you to live, and I’m going to make sure you do.”
He can feel himself nodding along to your words— his heart getting lighter by the second, perhaps out of adrenaline but he’s going to believe it’s love. He needs something to look forward to when this is all over, if this is ever over, and that something is the image of you and him on a date. With you looking stunning in your favorite outfit and him hopefully looking better than he does right now…clear skies with the cicadas shushing themselves so he doesn’t miss a single thing you say…enough money in his bank account to cover anything and everything you wish for…and the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers that he can find. What are your favorite flowers?
“Can I ask you something before I say yes?” Nagi’s voice is sweet, seemingly comforting you as your shoulders drop from their automated offensive stance. You look a little curious, likely assuming that he’s going to ask you some tips on how to shoot a gun— which he probably should if he’s being honest with himself, but that’s an issue that isn’t as important as his current curiosity. “Do you have a favorite flower?” 
With teeth shining at him, he’s blinded by the overwhelming beauty you send his way and for the second time, he makes you laugh. 
“My favorite flower? You’re so strange.” Overcome with a fit of giggles, he thinks that this is your first time laughing at something a man said as well. “Why do you need to know that? Are you asking me out or something?”
“I am.” He states bluntly and your cheeks flush red. 
There’s a minute of silence between the two of you and each second is more excruciating than the last. With a heavy clock ticking in his ear, telling him that he’s made a fool of himself as the hand inches more and more to the left; he’s counting down his probable rejection as he’s just shot his shot in the middle of the end of the world. What a stupid decision. He knows his timing could be better— could be a lot better actually— and there’s a part of him that regrets even attempting…but none of that matters, because you’re smiling.
Maybe he makes you just as nervous as you make him…
“Okay Nagi,” you grin and adjust the shotgun strap across your chest. “If we both survive this, I promise I’ll go out with you…but I have some high expectations. I want the most expensive flower arrangement money can buy.” 
“And what kind of flowers are you wishing for, gorgeous?” His voice is a sexy whisper, and Nagi didn’t even know he could be so seductive.
You jokingly roll your eyes at the pet name and toss him one of your inactive grenades, which he catches with ease, urging him to follow you into the chaos— but not before you give him the answer he so desperately desires.
“Snowdrops.”
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There are two things that Nagi has realized in the past thirty minutes. 
1.) He’s a lot more athletic than he thought he was. 
Running for a half an hour straight is something that he never imagined himself doing— especially considering that he’s never stepped one foot into a gym in his entire life. What he originally thought to be clumsiness, turns out to be raw strength untouched. You were right to assume that his lengthy limbs would do him some justice in the fight for his life, and he’s thankful for his towering height as he’s blocked falling debris from smacking you atop the head nearly five times now; though, he did miss a flying sneaker that happened to nail you straight in the nose. He’s trying his best, give him a break. 
2.) You might be a figment of his imagination. 
Sure, this idea is likely false as he definitely felt your weight when you were sent flying from a stray hand grenade and landed on top of him, but you just seem so perfect. Getting to know you has been a dream come to life— though making conversation while running for his life isn’t the easiest feat, he’s managing. Some of the things you’ve told him do seem to be made up, though. For instance, you were the culprit behind the plane crash and while he’d love to picture a sunsetting sky with the two of you floating in the breeze, you’re not going to be piloting that jet. However, he has to give you a break because he’s never flown anything other than pixelated aircrafts, especially aircrafts that contain a deadly monster oozing toxic gas that turns people into zombies. Yeah, he couldn’t quite believe that either.
“On your left!” The sound of your voice snaps him back into focus and he realizes there are four zombified citizens barreling your way. “I could use some help here!”
You definitely don’t need his help. For God’s sake you have a shotgun the size of your leg that’s already mowed down three of them and Nagi’s just barely getting used to the sound of the bang. So far he’s pretty much been useless if not for letting you know what’s coming up in the distance, and also being the absolute last resort solution— which is rare, but oh shit it’s happening right now! You’re out of shells! How exactly does he fire this thing again?
Shakily, he attempts to point his handgun in the direction of the lone zombie bounding towards you. “Deep breaths, Nagi! Focus and aim!” Your words of encouragement are appreciated, but ultimately useless as he desperately starts stray shooting. 
“Fucking aim!” You’re losing your patience for him so fast, to which he tries his best to calm down and breathe.
In and out.
His heart rate begins to slow.
Breathe and concentrate. 
His eyes become unclouded by his anxiety, and his vision clears. 
Lock on.
He has a mark on the target. 
With his pistol’s aim assist shining against the zombie’s forehead, he confidently fires a single bullet. It soars through the air, squealing in its flight, and he lets out a sigh of relief…a sigh that he exhaled far too early.
Aw shit, he missed. 
You grunt, bracing yourself against his bullet that ricochets off of the nearby telephone pole and grazes your right arm. He has a clear view of the scarlet blood dripping down your elbow and onto the pavement, and his heart feels heavy. He’s so fucking useless that he’s injuring you. Nagi doesn’t think it’s even possible to be worse at flirting than him; he can’t imagine that there are many guys who are accidentally shooting the girl they like, yet here he is. 
Thankfully, you being the badass agent you are, you’ve managed to reload your eleven shells of ammo in the time it took for him to fire one bullet— and you easily dissolve the zombie to bits and pieces. 
“Your aim can use a little work.” You snort, brushing your fingers against the small wound.
He rips the sleeve of his t-shirt off and attempts to wrap it around your arm. This is what you’re supposed to do, right? The only training he’s had in the medical field is from that one surgeon simulator game he played in middle school, and to be completely honest, it was a pretty good game! However, he’s definitely doing something wrong because you place your hand over his and show him how to properly treat an open wound. Normally, Nagi would be embarrassed that he’s failing so miserably right now— but honestly, the only thing on his mind is how this is the first time you’ve held his hand. He can’t tell if there are butterflies in his stomach or if the smell of blood is triggering vomit. Hopefully the former.
It’s no surprise that your perceptive self notices his focus on your intertwined hands, to which you take the lead and insist on pushing forward. “As romantic as this is, we should find some shelter before we get eaten in the midst of making out.” 
Oh?
“You want to make out with me?” 
Oof that slap hurt. His priorities clearly don’t align with yours.
“Okay, okay.” Nagi holds his hands up in surrender before you can smack his chest for a second time, and he’s finally able to notice your surroundings. Since when was the Mikage Buildingright behind you? Hm…the imminent fear of death must have distracted him. “My best friend’s family owns this tower here. I promise it’s safe.”
Your gaze narrows at the wall of glass windows that are seemingly spotless. There isn’t a single crack, faulty line, or zombie-sized hole that’s visible to the naked eye and he feels a little swell of pride for Reo’s family. Yeah, that’s right! My best friend’s parent’s architects are great at making buildings! It finally seems like he’s had his first good idea of the night, and Nagi couldn’t be more proud. Progress is progress (even if he shot you in the process)! 
“It looks good.” You nod in approval and begin cautiously making your way towards the doors.
While following closely behind, he watches your back and ensures that there’s no one on your trail; which isn’t difficult in the slightest. Most of the civilians have died by now and you’ve already cleared every undead in the area…without his help. He doesn’t know how he managed to be so lucky that he ended up with you, but he’s grateful for every second— and now that you’re finally in his familiar territory, he can finally show you what he’s worth. 
“There’s an elevator up these steps.” Nagi leads you up the grand staircase, remembering how he lazily trotted down it yesterday after Reo tried, once again, to convince him to join his football club. “I think it’ll work, I know they have emergency systems and everything.”
“I don’t know, Nagi…” your voice trails off, something amiss about it. “I just have a weird feeling about this place.”
“I promise Reo’s family’s going to take care of us, they’re the best.” He deflects your concerns, trusting that his friend will pull through and have some crazy solution to save the world. There’s never been a time where he couldn't count on Reo and as soon as you reach the top of these steps, you’ll agree. The text he sent out asking for help is almost delivered, just a few more seconds and that blue line will slide all the way to the right and Reo will be right down the elevator as soon as possible. 3…2…1…sent! There! You’ll both be saved!
But if Reo’s on the top floor in his room…why did his ringtone ding just meters away?
There’s a corpse laying in front of the elevator doors, mangled and bruised. How did Nagi not notice it before? Was he too distracted thinking of his closest and only friend he’s ever had? No way. The security team must have destroyed all of the zombies in the building already, he’s sure Reo and the others are fine— but why does that body look so familiar?
No.
It can’t be him. 
Three steps away. 
There’s got to be some kind of mistake here. A prank right?
Two steps away. 
He can’t be dead. His best friend can’t be dead!
One. 
“No…” With his voice trembling, he stands over his best friend’s body. Reo’s violet hair is drenched in blood, seemingly resembling the color of a plum rather than the typical lavender hue. If it were a normal day, Nagi would laugh at the awful color— telling his partner in crime that the shade didn’t suit him in the slightest and Reo would laugh in annoyance, aiming a ball straight for the taller boy’s head…but this isn’t a normal day. This is the end of the world; and that beautiful lavender flower that Nagi associated with his teammate is wilting. It’s dying. It’s dead along with the heartbeat within it. Reo is dead. 
“Nagi. I need you to step back slowly.” He spins to see you with your barrel aimed at Reo’s corpse, but he can’t seem to move. It’s almost as if he’s been stunned, frozen in place with frostbite cementing his legs to the granite floors, and mouth encased in ice. He’s so overwhelmed that he can’t even open his mouth to give you a warning that there’s something moving behind you. Why can’t he speak? He needs to tell you! However, right when his teeth quiet their jitter, you’re tackled to the ground with a loud pummel. 
Immediately, gunshots ring out in the grand hall. You’re firing in every direction in an attempt to blast off your opponent, but this zombie is particularly agile and you don’t have much room to move with your large shotgun…looking back in retrospect, giving Nagi your only handgun wasn’t the greatest idea.
“C’mon!” Repeatedly, you call out to him, but he remains paralyzed in fear. “Stop being useless!”
He watches as you struggle to wrestle off the infected woman, grunting and groaning with every punch you deal to its face. The skin on her cheeks is almost a greyish shade, discolored and decaying with a potent smell that burns his nostrils. It’s hard to tell who’s who under the blanket of shadows she’s trapped you under, but occasionally he catches a glimpse of golden eyes that tell him the zombie is still alive. 
Somehow, with your almost supernatural raw strength, you’re able to hook your thighs around the zombie’s neck— pinning it down to the pearly floors and trapping it beneath your weight. It claws and cries out, desperately trying to escape your grasp, and Nagi almost feels bad for it. Just a few hours ago, this woman had a life. A real life that she likely looked forward to living every day; and now she’s nothing but a brainless carnivore with cannibalistic intentions. She could’ve been a mother. There could be a little boy out there missing her and waiting for her to come home, tell him that he’s safe, and that everything is going to be alright. When was the last time Nagi talked to his own mother? Why does he deserve to live and this woman doesn’t? Why is he so special that he was saved, while the rest of Tokyo was left to rot? 
It isn’t fair. 
None of it is fair.
He doesn’t deserve to live. He doesn’t deserve to be here. 
He’s taken his life for granted from the moment he learned to walk. Why should you be wasting your time trying to get him to safety when he’s nothing more than absolutely useless? He needs to help.
He needs to be brave…
…but he misses his chance once more. 
Letting out a wailing scream, you muster up enough energy to crush the woman’s head between your thighs, and Nagi is splattered with blood and guts. He doesn’t know how you’re so strong— it’s almost eerie in a way— but he’s more concerned with the state of your well-being. The look of exhaustion in your eyes acts as a glaring sun against his icy posture, and his feet are thawed from the floor, rushing towards you in mere seconds. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kneels on the ground before you and cups your face closely, “Hey— hey, don’t close your eyes. I’m right here. Please stay awake.” Nagi doesn’t think his voice has ever been so gentle nor has he ever felt this kind of worry for a girl before. Sure, he hasn’t known you for long, but he knows he can’t go on without you. You’re a team and a team sticks together. You can’t die right here! He’s not going to allow that!— but before he can lift you up like the knight in shining armour he wishes he could be, there’s a faint rustling behind him…a familiar rustling. Nagi knows that sound. He knows those movements. He’s heard them a million times and he’d be able to recognize them even in the midst of Shibuya Crossing in the busy hours. 
Where did Reo’s body go?
Perhaps it dissolved or maybe it was kicked aside in the midst of your fight. 
That has to be it, right? Where else could he be?
Nagi’s confusion is understandable. He’s thinking rationally given the circumstances and his heartbeat is somewhat steady. The mass of his body hovers over yours in a protective stance, like a dragon guarding a princess, and for once he appears to be confident. However, that confidence has been set aflame. He can feel his blood racing, burning through his veins in fear and distress, and he wishes he could simply rip his vitals from his skin to destroy the wretched emotions. The sight before him is something out of a horror movie…a horror movie where Nagi is the main character. 
“Oh fuck.” 
Reo leaps out of the shadows before Nagi can even react. 
There’s a blur of hands and feet, hitting and kicking at each other, and the snow haired boy never knew he was this agile. Reo is clearly doing his best to hit Nagi’s vital arteries; to which he’s blocking each attack with his forearms. This is chaos. He doesn't even have a second to think for himself and consider the possibility of blasting Reo’s head off with his handgun. He can’t do that…this is his best friend! 
As Nagi’s leg lines up to knock him off his feet, Reo lunges down and grabs a hold of it. In a panic, he attempts to shake his friend off— wiggling his leg up and down whilst reaching for his combat knife in his back pocket— and slices the skin in between Reo’s forearm and bicep…which is ultimately ineffective. Oh, shit he just got angrier! Growling, zombie-fied Reo clasps his hands around Nagi’s waist, lifting him off the ground with ease and throwing him into the elevator doors. The sound of his body slamming against the metal slab rings out, echoing in the grand foyer and deafening Nagi’s left ear. His breathing is heavy and he feels like he can’t get a single ounce of air in his lungs. Everything seems to be blurry, foggy with mist covering his irises as he attempts to see what’s right in front of him. 
A carnivorous Reo…
…and an unconscious you.
It’s clear to him what’s going on. There are two outcomes to this horrific situation and whatever decision Nagi makes is going to impact the rest of his life. 
1.) Let you go and join the afterlife with his best friend. 
2.) Save you and never see his best friend again. 
His heart is at war within himself. One side fighting for Reo, the boy he’s known for so long. The boy he’s laughed and cried with. The boy who knows everything about him. The boy who believed in him when no one else did…until you came along. 
Just the thought of seeing your lifeless eyes, bloodied body, and severed limbs flips a switch inside him— and Nagi finally comes to realize what’s happening. This isn’t Reo. This shell of a man with a monstrous hunger isn’t his best friend. Reo is a ghost now. He doesn’t exist anymore and now his body is being possessed by the undead, or whatever zombies are. He can miss his friend all he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that the thing creeping towards you is nothing but a stranger who knows all of Nagi’s secrets. 
It’s time for him to fight to live. 
As he swiftly stands and tackles Reo to the floor, a wave of memories flash before Nagi’s eyes. 
The moment he first heard Reo’s voice. It was light and friendly. He had used a tone that Nagi hadn’t ever heard before, and although he had no interest in playing soccer, he still wanted to impress the popular boy— not because he wanted a higher status or a girlfriend, but because he knew this stranger needed a friend…and he really needed a friend, too. 
His palms grip Reo’s throat, ripping him off of your body.
The first time Reo laughed at something he said. It wasn’t intended to be funny, but the plum-haired boy couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles and Nagi found himself laughing as well. Sitting in the school courtyard, side-by-side with crumbling onigiri falling from their mouths, there’s no doubt that they looked like two elementary schoolers finding humor in something obscurely immature— but despite that, it’s one of his fondest memories. 
Reo struggles against Nagi’s weight, pinned to the floor with nowhere to run.
When he’d first shown him his concerningly large collection of video games, Reo hadn’t batted an eye. In fact, the very next day, Nagi received a friend request from him. Which seemed like a small act at the time, until he found out that Reo had gone to the tech store and purchased an entire PC set up just so he could be the Player 2 to Nagi’s Player 1. They were partners in both the real and virtual world— an unstoppable pair that won more tournaments as time went on— and Nagi will never clean out his xbox inventory filled with their trophies. 
His finger grazes the trigger.
This is it. 
No more memories.
It’s time to say goodbye.
In movies, when the protagonist has to kill their loved one, a single tear rolls down their cheek. 
For Nagi, his face drowns in his cries. 
“I’m sorry.” 
He’s gone.
“I love you.”
Reo’s body dissolves into ash…
…then dust…
…then nothing. 
“I’m so sorry.”
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PART TWO COMING IN THE NEAR FUTURE (i’m a slow writer pls forgive me)
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊。 reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹
268 notes · View notes
skeletinmoss · 4 months
Text
Ruffled feathers
Ships planned: Prinxiety, Logicality, Dukeciet
Warnings: Human traficing, abuse, injuries, imprisonment, captivity and all that comes with it, restraints
Patton and Virgil are brothers in this one
Thanks @lovelivingmydreams for being my beta. It was very much needed since english is not my main language
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His hands were itching from the cuffs, he was sick of them for a long time now, and moving his hands so fast made it worse. His wings ached unable to be spread, pressed together in tight restraints. Funny, like he could have escaped without them. And now his throat hurt too. Bastards. He only wanted them to stop yelling at Patton, it wasn't his fault he needed to use claws to get his point across.
He almost missed the moment smoke filled the room.
It took Virgil a couple of minutes to fully understand what just happened. His head was still a little fuzzy after the electric strike. The same guy that just knocked out their captors helped him up and lifted him in a piggy back position. The guy took him and Patton outside, where two other men in gas masks circled them, pointing their ( how was it called again?) guns at their surroundings. And next he knew they were inside the van.
" Roman, I told you to wait for the signal, " the fourth guy, who was also the driver, berated the first one. " He was using a shocker! " justified their savior as he was taking off Virgil's muzzle and the bindings off his wings along with the handcuffs. The other two helped Patton with the same. And Virgil almost relaxed in their presence, that is until Roman and the rest took off their masks, " What? I was supposed to let him hurt the poor creature? "
Humans. Taking a defensive stance, Virgil covered his brother with his wings and growled. He was ready to show them why he had that muzzle if they dared to touch Pat. Humans were the whole reason they got in this situation. He interacted with so many shitty ones he was pretty sure being assholes was their race trait. Humans took them away from their forest, locked them in a cage, fed them some garbage and drugs, and the most infuriating they cut their wings! And they had the audacity to complain about ' ruining the best part'. And now him and his brother were locked with another bunch of them. He knew better than to trust them. he saw what they can do. And so he hissed at their every movement. He wouldn't be hurt by them again.
The team looked at the unfolded wings in awe and understanding. Roman was not surprised by the sudden aggressive change in avian's behavior. They expected the victims to be hostile in such situation and trained accordingly. It was best not to touch them, that's why they took the opposite corner of the van.
No wonder the traffickers were interested in them, both seemed to have rare colorations. The older one had black as his main color, which was one of the rarest, with purple and cyan as his other colors, also a pretty rare thing to see. The younger one, who looked more concerned than scared, was more close to regular brown wings but also had a bunch of blue and white feathers instead of orange or red. The saddest things was the state of those wings, both birds had their long feathers cut, weren't groomed and had some patches of feathers missing no doubt from all the stress. They were in such a bad state the whole team was wondering if the traffickers really were planning to sell them.
The dark one was so on edge they didn't have a choice but to leave both alone so he could relax. Thankfully their enclosure had cameras so the team could check on them. The team got into the the security room and stared at the screen. And sure the second they left the avians alone both relaxed and cuddled up on the mossy floor. So cute.
Both talked, but in their native language which none of the humans knew. Judging by other clues both were making sure the other one was ok. Even cuter scene happened when they discovered the bathroom.
The bathtub was build more like a pool with warm water, both avians jumped in as soon as they saw it and started to preen each others feathers. As they were busy with cleaning up Roman took it upon himself to bring them the new clothes. He knocked on the bathroom door and got a loud hiss in return. Rude. But he calmly opened the door ( which got him another hiss), put down a box of clothes and left. He hurried back into the surveillance room to see their reactions. They were hesitant to approach the clothes at first, so they focused on finishing up the bath. The first one to make a move was the Sweetie, but his moody brother covered him quickly from the supposed danger and took it upon himself to inspect the new object. Of course there was nothing dangerous and he allowed the young one to come closer. They both studied the things they were given and judging by their faces quite liked them. Both chose a hoodie with an open back that allowed them to move their wings freely. Both also chose comfortable pants, the rest of the clothes they folded neatly and placed outside the enclosure in the same box they came in.
" They are adapting great, " commented Janus following a chuckle from Remus, who was still excited about two naked butts he saw. His boyfriend clearly didn't give him enough attention today. Logan gave a nod. This rescue mission was their most successful one, ignoring mild insubordination from Roman. Both avians were rescued without any additional injuries. He was a little disappointed with himself at the fact that he couldn't track them earlier. Now they needed intense medical care and therapy. " Look at the Stormy Night. He's acting all tough, but he's as sweet as his brother, " it seemed like Roman already got a favorite. He always did, and when as the time came to release them back into the wild he would whine at the sight of them leaving. Every single time.
Jan ran his hand through Remus' hair, who now took the place on the floor between his legs, "What do we do now? " " I would suggest taking them to Emile, but considering the state they are in it would be best to let them get used to the new environment and people, " answered Logan. " Can't we just put Sugar Tits inside the enclosure instead of throwing them inside the van again? We don't stress the bird butts and they relax after talking to a non human. Like triple win! " " Not now. Emile can't come here because of a family emergency. We will have to monitor them until he can".
During next couple of weeks Logan documented the patterns in the avians behavior.
The one they nicknamed Moody was protective, yet in front of any of the humans present he acted very cold towards his brother. As the Nerd hypothesized this was directed on making them think they weren't that close, so they would not hurt one to punish the other. Honestly the fact that he thought this was necessary infuriated Logan the most. The younger of the brothers was more open to the new people. After only two days he started openly showing interest in anything new. Logan tried to explain to the best of his ability, thinking there was a language barrier involved. Which was not actually true. Both avians could pick up on languages very well. And had learned several human tongues from their previous captors. Patton really wanted to talk with the new humans, but couldn't do so because he didn't want to disclose the same with Virgil. Virgil didn't trust them at all, and he was hoping they would spill something important in front of them if they thought they couldn't understand them.
He also grew worried around one particular human. Princey, as he started to call him, was more irritated with him out of all of the humans and V just couldn't understand what he was doing wrong. They weren't trying to run away, they did behave. Why send such disgusted looks?
He was the most terrified when he started to feel sick. " Virgil... Are you ok? " Patton asked as Virgil stared at the pill he just spat out. He took the bread from Patton's hands and threw it on the floor. Not again. No wonder he was feeling like shit! They put something in the food! As to prove his thoughts the door opened and in came the humans.
They fucked up. They really did, and for the first time Remus was the one to say " I told you so", though he wasn't happy about it either. He knew that giving the guy medicine inside his food would turn out bad for them if he found out. And wouldn't you know it, the first pill and he found it. Worst part was that he was the go-do guy in this situation. That was probably because of his kinks for biting and stuff which was absolutely fucking involved in capturing an avian and separating him from his brother. He got plenty of it as he dragged the winged man towards the van, his brother crying in the background, held by Roman.
Remus pressed Moody into the floor with his legs, while holding his wings with his hands. Jan-jan took care of the avian's legs and arms so he would be easier and safer to transport. He very much appreciated when the avian relaxed understanding his helpless situation, his hands might have gone numb otherwise. Got a wing in the face a couple of times though as they were on their way to Emile. " Relax, Snappy bird, we're taking you to the doc~" Remus purred sealing his words with a sound slap on the guy's buns, which he quickly regretted because the avian started resisting again.
They should have started with bringing birds to Emile, and now they were paying for their decisions ( mostly with Remus' flesh). " Oh my goodness, what happened? " Emile sprinted towards the van. Logan got out the driver seat and opened the back doors. Snappy started to shift again, but went completely still seeing the fawn in front of him.
" There. We're ok, aren't we? " the new figure spoke in avian's language, quickly going back on the human one to ask the reason for their visit. " He got sick and the dorks tried secretly feeding him the meds, which he found. As I told you all would happen! " declared the human on Virgil's back.
" Are you feeling bad, Sweetie?" the fawn asked motioning for the human to let go. As soon as the weight was lifted off him, Virgil crawled away in the other corner. " It's ok. Please forgive them. They were concerned about your wellbeing, " the fawn said as he approached and sat down.
" I'm Emile. Can I have your name? " " Are you with them? " the avian asked with venom on his tongue. " I am, but I'm concerned about your understanding of the situation. They don't hurt me, don't worry. We're actually good friends, and I help them heal other creatures just like you." He reached his hand forwards, " Is it ok if I touch you? "
Virgil showed his fangs, " You can try. "
Emile however wasn't impressed and just touched the avian's forehead with the back of his hand. " Yup, you're burning, " he declared and picked up the confused man, bringing him to his office. He gave the bird an antipyretic medicine and started the overall checkup.
" My goodness, your wings look awful! " the doctor gasped and got some sort of ointment from the cabinet. He generously applied it on the spots that missed any feathers and at the base of the wings. " Now, I know you have a brother. So I'm going to give you this thing, ok? You and your brother need to apply it once a day after a good bath. Can you do that, Sweetheart? " he asked.
Virgil nodded. The medication started kicking in and he suddenly felt exhausted. He almost fell asleep on his way back. He didn't purely out of spite and hissed at humans a dozen more times.
Patton was hysterical. They took Virgil! They took him away! In his frantic sobs he didn't even care if they found out about the language thing, he started pleading.
" I'm sorry! Forgive him for whatever he did. Please! Don't take him away! We're sorry! " he cried. He unsuccessfully tried to get out of the hold.
Logan took avian's hands in his own, " We're not taking him away. He needs medical care. We will bring him back. " " Promise? " the avian uttered quietly. The technician gave a firm nod.
He waited another minute for sobs to die down, while holding avian's hands.
" Now, if this is resolved, we need to talk, " he said. And Patton anxiously squeaked and hid himself behind his wings.
Not minding at all, the human continued, " First I want to apologize for our decision to hide the medicine in the food. We were hoping he wouldn't find them this quickly and would feel better without interacting with us, " he nodded for Roman to let go off the avian as now there was no need for it. Sweetie peeked curiously from behind his wings.
" Seeing as you in fact do understand me, allow me to explain ourselves a bit better. We are a special rescue team, that specializes in rehabilitation of humanoid creatures found sold on the black market, " the technician continued. " Usually we take our time to infiltrate the organization and remove the victims safely and quietly. Sometimes if that's not possible we pose as buyers, for some instances we actually pay, but usually we scam them."
Actor nodded along, " Yup! Bad people deserve no money! "
" In your case we could do neither. It is thoroughly my fault. We didn't know about you for the longest time and when I was able to find any information it was obvious that we needed to intervene as soon as possible. I need to mention that we never had any experience with such terrible treatment, " Logan looked at their new friend with pity.
" Yeah, " Roman added, " Usually those guys try to make you look pretty for the buyers. Not torture you. "
Patton didn't understand everything the humans told him, but at the end of the conversation he felt reassured, safe even. He asked them to keep this conversation a secret for now. He didn't want Virgil to get mad, it would be better if he opens up at his own pace.
He sat on the mossy floor waiting and, like humans told him, Virgil returned. He looked tired, his huge wings mopped the floor behind him and he carried a small jar in his hands. His eyes seemed dazed and focused on the jar rather than his steps and this focus was the last thing keeping him from the firm grip of the dreamscape. As soon as his bother hugged him he lost that focus and relaxed in the familiar hold fast asleep
Next chapter
147 notes · View notes
olsenmyolsen · 6 months
Text
Ups and Downs Pt. II
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master list
dark master list
Slight MCU AU (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)
Be sure to read part one!
Summary: Your neighbor across the hall isn't anything like you thought she'd be.
Word Count: 4.7K
TW: Men, Guns, Violence, Bad Flirting, Fighting, Shooting, Blood, Feelings, Needles
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Of course, the day you met the prettiest girl possibly in the whole entire world. You were also in a shootout with a spy.
Okay, yes, the spy and the girl are one in the same, but you get my point.
"How long ago was the guy here?"
"I-uh.." Since Nat's hands and sweet voice were all over and around your body, you truly lost any concept of time.
Nat ignored your non-answer as she looks out the window where her sniper is positioned before turning to you with a worried look.
"Y/N GET DOWN!"
You barely had time to move your body before the windows next to Nat exploded, sending you, her, and pieces of glass flying everywhere. Her body lands on its back in front of yours. New forming cuts already on her face. "Nat?!" You asked, sounding muffled due to the ringing in your ears.
Shit, a lot of you will hurt tomorrow if you get through this.
"Ow.." Nat blinks, her eyes opening as she wipes the blood from her forehead. Before she looks you over, making sure you're not harmed. "I gotta say that looks a lot cooler in the movies." You state.
"Yeah, I know." As if Natasha watches anything but classic James Bond. "Okay, Y/N, listen to me." She gets up on her knees in front of you but keeps you down low to the floor. Her hand on your back provides you with reassurance. Plus, it feels nice.
Should I tell her that my throat needs to be reassured?
"They blew out the windows because they saw me. If I know them.. and I do. They're about to send in smoke bombs. Try and flush us out. Whatever you do, regulate your breathing. Okay. In fact..." Nat keeps the two of you low but begins to move you both back to the kitchen. "Here." She grabs her bag off the counter and throws it down. Nat reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a hard mask.
"Come here." Nat motions you to come closer, and like a good girl, you do. "You're going to wear this." Nat quickly wraps the mask around your face. "As you can tell, your vision will be slightly askew, but your breathing will be fine as long as you..." Nat trails as she raises her eyebrow.
Fuck she's so fucking calm right now, and it looks so fucking hot on her- oh, she's staring at me. Oh, uhhh-
"Keep my breathing regulated?" You answer, which earns a proud smile from Nat. "Yep. Good job." I am a good girl. You think with a smile.
"Wait!" You grab onto Nat's arm. She stops rummaging through the bag to look at you. "What about you? Do you have a mask?" Nat shakes her head at you. "I only have one. But don't worry." She smiles. "I've dealt with far worse."
Nat pulls out a pistol you hadn't seen before. She looks up and onto the dining room table. You follow her eyesight. The small silver discs. "I can grab them."
"No, wait!"
You go to reach forward but get yanked back by Nat. A sniper shot rings out, the bullet going through the wood right where your hand would've been. "You okay?" She asks with a soft gaze, looking into your mask. You nod, even though you're growing more scared by the minute. "Shit, they have more than I thought." Nat rubs her hand up and down your back while she thinks. You believe this action to be absent-minded. But Natasha knows you are scared. The last thing she needs is for you to be scared and get hurt or, worse, killed.
So she's thinking of you first.
"Why haven't they fired the gas yet?" You ask. Nat looks at you before looking at the window. "They're playing a game. Shit.." Nat bites her lip and thinks.
You see her biting her lip, and you start thinking, too.
But you both aren't thinking remotely the same things.
"They're trying to draw you out. They know you're here with me." Nat looks at you. "Give me your hand." You hold it out for her as she takes your wrist and gently places the pistol she had behind her back in your hand.
"This is a Beretta 92. It's a very accurate close-range weapon. Okay? Keep it low. Away from yourself and me."
"What, Nat, I can't-"
"It holds 15 rounds. When the magazine empties, this thing will slide lock back like this." She shows you. Keeping her eyes on you instead of the gun. You look at her as she repeats the action.
"Natalie, I don't think I can do this."
"Natasha." She replies.
"What?" You tilt your head, confused. "Natalie is a cover. Natasha is my real name."
Unbeknownst to you is that Natasha still wasn't even her legal name.
You don't miss a beat before replying with: "You look prettier as a Natasha anyways."
"Really flirting? Now?" You shrug. "I've been flirting all along. It's about time you caught on." Even though you most certainly HAVE NOT been flirting this whole time. "So, is that what you call it?"
Natasha wins this battle.
"Look at the gun, Y/N." She coos you. You move your eyes to the gun as Nat holds your hand with hers. Showing you the first few steps again.
"Okay, now to reload-"
Nat gets interrupted as three canisters shoot through the broken windows. The second they land, they start leaking smoke. "Don't be scared." You go to argue that you're not, but with a smile, Nat raises her eyebrows, earning a scoff from you. Sassy even in a life-or-death situation.
"Okay, to reload. Push this down." She begins to talk faster as you both can sense that instruction time will be over soon. So she pushes your hand. "The empty mag will fall out, and then you shove the other one in. Like replacing batteries in a flashlight. Okay?" She asks as the smoke creeps into the kitchen. You nod, feeling the weight of the gun in your hand when Nat removes hers.
"Nat, I don't think I can do this. Shooting people." You clarify. Nat turns and looks into your eyes as the sound of men marching up your apartment building becomes louder and louder. "Okay, Y/N, listen to me." She grabs the sides of your mask so you can look into her emerald eyes.
Okay, how is she hotter now that she's covered in bruises and blood? Will I look hotter if I'm covered in bruises and blood?
Should I ask?
"Y/N, listen to me! These men are coming in here to kill you and me. I will do everything in my power to protect you, but in the event that I'm not able to, I'm trusting you to be able to defend yourself. Okay? Don't use it unless you have to." You nod with a dumb grin on your face that, thankfully, Natasha could not see, or else she would think you really were hopeless. "Most importantly, don't move unless I tell you to. Please don't do anything besides shoot this gun unless I tell you to. I say duck, what do you do?"
"Duck... Goose." You joke, but before Natasha could scold you, the front door to the apartment flies off its hinges. However, thankfully, the smoke has now possessed the room, covering for you and Natasha...
...Natasha?
You look to your right to see no one next to you.
Great, even in a shootout, you can't keep a girl.
You sigh and stay still as heavy footsteps are heard entering the apartment. You do your best to count, and you assume five men are now here to kill you. You stay still on the floor in the corner of the kitchen when you hear one of the men speak up. "Come on out with your friend, little widow! We promise not to hurt her."
You rolled your eyes through the mask, and that's when you heard two shots being fired off before a loud thud hit the floor across the apartment.
"How did she do that?!" You hear a heavily accented man yell before a multitude of bullets are fired from an automatic weapon.
However, instead of Natasha getting hit, she jumps up off the coffee table in the middle of the living room and knees one of the men in the nose. Making him stagger back in pain, leaving him little time to think as she attaches a widow bite disc to the man, shocking him to the floor but not before grabbing his pistol and aiming it at the other man in the room, sending one shot to his thigh and the other to his left shoulder before she empties the magazine and throws the pistol at the guy's face knocking him out.
Two more men to go.
Lucky for Natasha, the shooting and her elegant, quick movements confused the last two dummies. Plus, with their own smoke, it makes it impossible to see someone as highly trained as The Black Widow.
You nearly jump when Natasha slides on the kitchen floor before you. You go to speak, but Natasha signals with her hands to zip it.
You nod and try to think about how good she looks, kicking these guy's ass.
Natasha puts a hand in front of your face, making you focus up. You okay? She asks with her hands. You nod, making the redhead spy smile.
A genuine smile, too.
And even though she said it earlier, that's when you truly realize that Natasha is protecting you. Whether it's her job or not, you like to believe it's because she cares for you. Even if just a little bit.
Your beliefs would be correct.
However, before you could ask Natasha if she was doing okay or what her favorite color is, you watch her take off running. The smoke in the room shoots out and away from Natasha. You watch in amazement as Natasha jumps and wraps her legs around a man's head before spinning the top half of her body around, sending the man head first into the floor. His nose breaking on impact. Her landing on her feet.
Is it weird that you want that done to you?
"Your friends are taken care of. So I suggest you come out and let me kick your ass too." Natasha speaks aloud with her back facing you to the last man standing as the smoke in the room clears.
You stand up from the ground and take a step towards Nat. The gun still tightly gripped in your hand. Your eyes remain on Natasha as she starts to walk back towards you; however, before she turns around, your body gets hit with a force from the side. Launching your head into the cabinets to your left.
"Ow fucker!" You yell!
The crashing sound and your curse alerting Natasha. The larger man places his hand on your mask and pushes your head into the cabinet again, this time making it bleed as his other hand reaches for your gun. "Give up!" He yells before removing his hand from your mask to punch you in the side of your body. You groan and stumble.
He reels back to hit you again, but instead, Natasha rips the gun from your hand with efficiency and pistol whips the man in the face, sending him flying back. The man yells in pain as he readies himself to fight, but Natasha is fast. She runs and kicks the guy in his ankle, making him fall to his knee. She smirks as he yells out in pain before she double kicks him in the throat, making him fall as he begins to choke.
Before anger entirely overtakes Natasha, she hears you crash to the floor behind her. When Natasha turns around, she sees blood on the sides of the counter.
"Y/N!" Natasha runs to your side and drops the gun next to the two of you. Instantly, she's ripping the gas mask off of you and turning your head. "Let me see." She gingerly pulls your chin, making you look away so she can examine the extent of your head injury. "It doesn't look deep. But we need to stop the bleeding."
Natasha quickly looks around the damaged kitchen before finding a forgotten rag. She places it on your head and hates how you wince in pain.
"Keep your hand here." Natasha takes your left hand and places it over the rag over the cut. "Be honest.." You start as Natasha looks over the rest of you.
"Do I look cool or like dogshit?"
Natasha's lips crack into a smile at your joke. "You look so cool," Natasha says, whether it was true or not. "You took some hits, too. Impressive." Natasha says with a smile. "Yeah, well, someone didn't yell Goose." You playfully hit Natasha's leg with your foot.
"Next time." She says.
"Oh! Next time?" You say and continue. "Planning on our next date being another shootout?" You raise an eyebrow but wince when you move your head a bit too much at the moment, saving Natasha from seeing her blush.
"Who said anything about a date?" Natasha quips. You knew it was coming, but you still had a smile. "You're right. I guess shootouts aren't a good date idea. I'll pick something better for, let's say... Friday?" You laughed at your own joke per usual, but ended up coughing in pain. Not per usual.
Natasha's hands immediately went to the hem of your shirt before you reacted. "Hey. What did I say? We haven't had our date yet." Natasha thought it was cute but still rolled her eyes. "I need to check to ensure you're not bleeding internally."
"Can you really tell?" You questioned. "No. But I know a thing or two more than you, so let me look." She had you there. So, with your permission, Natasha slowly lifted your shirt but made a face when she saw your red skin already bruising and enlarging. "It's not awful, but it's going to hurt a lot before it gets better."
Natasha places her hand over the area and begins to rub. "Does it hurt here?" She lays a small out of pressure, forcing you to nod in pain. "Not at all." You whine and clench your jaw. "Okay... I'm going to call this in. Get us evac'd."
Your eyes widened not because of Natasha's words but because of the guy behind Natasha. Yes, the one she kicked in the throat started to get up. "Natasha..." You said, making her look into your eyes. "What's wrong?"
She noticed how you looked.
Natasha turned behind her to see the man perched up on his good knee. Gun in hand. She immediately puts her body directly in front of yours.
"Step aside, widow. Let me kill this one without trouble."
"Not going to let that happen." Natasha reached behind her and expertly grabbed the gun she gave you earlier from the floor and pulled it in front of her, not wasting another breath as she fired the weapon twice—one into the man's chest and the other directly into the man's head.
From her crouched position, she got up with precision and made it to the man on the floor. She kicked the smoking gun out of his hand and made sure he was... Wait- smoking gun?
Natasha looked from the gun to you.
Fear ran through her body as she saw your figure slumped over on the floor in a bigger pool of your own blood.
Natasha would've ran to your body if this would've been her first time in a position like this, but it wasn't. She had saved countless people before, and she was not about to lose you!
So Natasha ran to her bag and rifled through a side pocket until she found her phone and a needle of Tetrodotoxin B. A drug developed by Bruce Banner with the idea of slowing his heart rate to one beat per minute. Natasha didn't know if it worked on Bruce or not, but she knew SHEILD had it for some reason.
Right now, that reason was going to be you.
As Natasha flicked the end of the needle and pulled your arm out in front of you, she called Clint on speaker phone. "Sorry if this hurts," Natasha said to your now unconscious body. Her eyes watering.
"Hello?"
"Go secure!" Natasha yelled as she sat your body up and ripped off the right half of your shirt to examine your bullet wound.
"Secure," Clint replied. "Shit!" Natasha replied, confusing the bow and arrow man. "Natasha?"
Nat looked at your head wound and the rest of your body. The Banner drug was going to help keep you alive, but you were still losing blood.
Natasha hated everything about this moment.
Ups and downs. The day Natasha met someone who didn't know who she was. The day she could actually see herself being around someone was also the day they were bleeding out in front of her.
"I need evac! Safehouse A is blown. Got caught up in a shoot out, and Y/N is hit."
She got up and went to look for whatever medical supplies she had in addition to any extra clothes to get you changed and wrapped your wound.
"Y/N?" Clint questioned. "Like the Golden retriever? The neighbor from across the hall?"
"Yep! She's not going to make it unless you send someone right now, Clint."Natasha didn't want to believe her words. Barton, for one thing, couldn't.
"Are you serious?"
"Serious as a God falling from the sky."
"Go to safe house B. Evac is on the way."
With that, the line clicked, and the call ended. Natasha did her best to dress your injuries before the only thing she was doing was watching how slow your breathing had become...
_
You woke up to bright lights above you and a horrible feeling in your nose... and head.... and shoulder... and side. Wow!
Wow.
Okay, so you actually had this horrible feeling called pain all over you.
You tried lifting your head to look around, but it felt like a ton of bricks was pushing on your skull. But you pushed through and found a short brown-haired man sitting in a chair by the only door in or out. "Who the fuck was he?" You thought and tried to speak, but your throat was too scratchy to say anything, making you cough.
The man in the chair looked up at the noise and noticed you.
He sent a quick message on his phone before closing it. He got up from his lazy position, running to your bedside table, and filled up a tiny paper cup full of water. "Here." He said as he held it in front of your lips.
You don't know if he didn't trust you or if your hands/arms were too weak. You didn't want to find out, so you took a sip from the cup and let the cold water run down your burning throat. "Thank you."
"Welcome." Silence. "Natasha should be down here soon. I let her know you woke up." You tilted your head and looked over the man, slightly nodding. "So you're Y/N?" He already knew, but Clint was happy he could talk to someone new for a change. Even if he did talk like an uncle, you don't see but once every couple of years.
"Where am I?" You ignored the man walking back to the chair near the door and asked.
"You're safe if that's your concern." He spoke, but you just sighed. "Anytime a woman is alone in a room with a man and he says something like that. It doesn't make her feel safe."
Clint bit his lip as he listened to your words before nodding along. "Can't argue with that." Clint got up again from the chair and made his way to you. Making you jump and look him over. "I'm Clint. I'm the one Natasha spoke to on the phone." You remembered the phone call before the windows blew out, but not much after getting your head thrown into a kitchen cabinet.
"Hi, Clint. Are you going to tell me where I am?" You asked in a tone more annoyed off than friendly. Clint smiled. "I see why Natasha likes you."
Now that got you interested!
But before you or Uncle Clint could say anything else, the door opened, and in ran Natasha. Her cuts are all covered by bandages, and her face clean from a shower. "How long has she been up?" Natasha passed her friend, stopping to stand next to you.
"I let you know the second she did." Clint smiled at you and Natasha. "I'll leave you to it." Natasha thanked Clint, and the two of you watched him leave the room.
"You probably feel like shit huh?" Natasha questioned, but as she reached to move a hair from your face, you backed away. Natasha didn't understand why. "Y/N?" She asked.
"Who are you?" You asked, making Natasha's jaw drop before she quickly recovered. Helen didn't mention any memory loss. Natasha looked away, a little hurt that this might be the case, but when she looked back, she saw you smiling. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Holding in a laugh.
Natasha figured it out.
"Fuck you!"
"I got you!" You laughed and cheered before wincing in pain and coughing. Making Natasha smile at the instant karma while getting you a cup of water. "Serves you right."
She held the cup up to your pink lips and watched a little spill out the corners of your mouth. She watched a droplet slide down your throat and disappear into your gown.
Your voice bringing Natasha back. "I just lived through many movie cliches. I HAD to do this one." You said, making Natasha smile and nod to you before she sat at the edge in the middle of the bed.
Natasha wanted to reach for your hand as silence enveloped the two of you. She wanted to tell you how close you were to dying or how scared she was. But Natasha didn't reach for your hand.
Instead, you reached for hers. 
"You know if a hot spy is going to come into my hospital room in an unknown location, the least she could do is hold my hand."
That made Natasha Romanoff blush.
"Hot spy, huh?" Natasha teased, but you just nodded, feeling confident. "Look in a mirror, Natasha." Natasha laughed. "Sometimes you really just don't stop flirting." That made you smile. Natasha didn't say it was lousy flirting. "Just wait till we start dating."
"Oh?" Natasha raised her eyebrow but hit back a smile. "Is that what we're going to do?"
"Yeah, remember, shootouts don't count. So Friday, you and I are going out." Natasha shook her head but didn't disagree. "You don't even know what day it is." That was true. "Friday...?" You looked at Natasha with hope, but she shook her head again. "Nope. Besides. I like it went my dates aren't still in a hospital bed." You sighed but internally screamed at Natasha, flirting back. Natasha watched you before turning away. Her thumb rubbed over yours.
"Hey.." Natasha started making you look at her. "I- I'm sorry for getting you involved in my mess. You-" Natasha stopped and pulled her hand away to rub her face. "You almost died because of me." Natasha felt guilty. She should've kicked you out the second you weren't a threat. Instead, she liked having your company. In the minutes you spent in Natasha's presence, she wanted to keep you around.
"Natasha." You reached out for her hand again and was surprised when she gave it to you. But you still pulled her hand, making her look to you. Her green eyes shining. You nodded for Natasha to scoot closer.
She did.
"Don't blame yourself." Natasha went to open her mouth, but you interrupted her. "There's no doubt I would be dead if you hadn't been there. Besides... I'm the curious one. I knocked on your door. I wanted to get to know you. I stuck around because I wanted to. My body hurts like hell. But I'm alive because of you."
Natasha didn't look entirely convinced, but that would come in time. It was sad to see this badass person beat herself up over something that wasn't your fault or hers. It just happened because of horrible people. "Can you at least do me something?" Natasha tilted her head. "What?"
"Can you at least tell yourself that you saved me?" That sounded like a big ask at the moment but not as big as the next thing. "And! Tell me that you actually enjoy my flirting because it's only going to get worse." That made Natasha throw her head back and laugh, making you smile.
You were so focused on Natasha that you didn't see the room door open.
"Oh wow, never thought I'd see the day. Natasha Romanoff laughing! Time!?!" The man with a striking anchor beard and a Tom Ford suit called out as he walked closer to the bed you laid in.
"Good to see you awake. It's nice to put a name to the face of my almost-dead Budapest employee."
Tony Stark looked you over as sassy as the man is known for before looking at Natasha, who was internally scolding him for mispronouncing Budapesht.
"Quite a catch, that one. So what's the diagnosis?! How long we got?" He picked up your chart and began flipping through paperwork he should not be looking at before Natasha took it. "Tony..." She sounded exhausted already. "What are you doing here?"
"I told you." He said, looking upset that your chart got taken away from him. "I came to see who was moving in."
If Tony Stark. Your boss. Who also happens to have a hobby of flying around in a gold and red suit wasn't shocking enough to you than that last sentence that he said was.
"Moving in?!?" You asked, shocked. Ton- Mr. Stark- no Iron Man..?! What were you supposed to call him?!
Mr. Tony Man looked from you to Natasha before saying: "Looks like you didn't tell the Misses." This made Natasha get up and grab the not-so-tin man by his collar, whispering methods of torture she would use if he didn't leave the two of you alone.
"I expect to see you at work once you make a full recovery!" Tony yelled and pointed at you before the redhead slammed the door in his face.
Natasha composed herself before turning to you, still wearing a shocked face. "Moving in?!?" You asked again. Natasha nodded as she walked to you. "Yes. We-" She sighed. "I thought it would be the safest option for you. Plus, you can recover here. You're back in the States." Natasha's words fell on the quiet side before she sat on the bed.
Closer to you this time. "I can think of a few other reasons.." You look at Natasha and smiled.
"You don't have to. If you want to leave or go back to Budapesht, I understand." Natasha wants you to know that there is no pressure to stay. But you already know this. If you wanted to get up right now and leave, Natasha would probably let you.
"Staying might be nice."
"Yeah?" Natasha looks hopeful. "Yeah." Natasha smiles and reaches her hand to your face. Moving a stray hair back behind your ear. "If you do stay, that means I can tell you the best part."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" You curiously ask as Natasha looks at you like she's got some big secret.
"I'd be your neighbor across the hall."
You were free to leave the hospital bed 4 days later.
The next day you moved in right across from Natasha Romanoff.
A week later you took her on a date.
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dividers by @/benkeibear
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cillianmesoftlyyy · 2 months
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I Can Fix That... Pt. 2 | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader
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author's note: I decided to make a pt. 2 purely for my own enjoyment, though I hope there are others out there as sadistic as myself. I finally watched the Batman trilogy and did research on DC fan pages to write this. It follows the plot of Nolan's DC adaptation so all characters mentioned (like Ra's Al Ghul) are from the comics and movies.
Summary| She gave into Crane because she needed to survive, at least that's what she's tried to tell herself, but there was something about this man that just felt so painfully... right. Now Crane has a proposition and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer because he's starting to like her -- uh oh-- too much. Where will their new agreement lead them when Gotham devolves into chaos?
Warnings| Based on an DC action movie- drugging, slut shaming, fear and terror, dubious kidnapping, restraints, drugs, physical violence, spitting, toxic relationship, mentions of a gun, chaos, and needles. I know- it's a lot.
word count: 8596k (lol oopsies?)
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The detective nodded her head, surprised that she’d so easily forgotten her plan. Dr. Crane sniffed and spun his set of keys around his finger casually. 
“Now the best thing about being the creator of my fear serum,” he started, moving to the shelf of vials he had previously sorted, “is that I have an endless supply and every opportunity to use it whenever I want.” She could hear him smile but she could no longer see him. Crane admittedly liked the girl and he’d fucked her as a minor pivot in his original plan for the night. Now, it was time for business. He pulled a dish of powder from a locked drawer and hid it away from sight as he crossed back into the girl’s view. “You may think you understand what my serum can do, but you’ll never truly know until you try it.” She furrowed her brow and shook her head, wishing that she could back away from him but she couldn’t move. He changed the subject swiftly, not giving her a moment. 
“I applaud you for your performance tonight. I was more than willing to humor you and of course, your present state did you many favors. I like my women tied down…” he joked and chuckled darkly. “But now, we need to get practical.” He removed his glasses and folded them slowly. He slipped them into his breast pocket. “You know too much, Miss —, and we both know that your current allegiance to your job would prioritize a crude sense of justice over your affection for me. We can’t have that, can we? So, I’d like to propose a solution or a treatment of sorts.” He clenched his jaw, angling his head down so that he was looking up at her through his eyelashes. “You’ve already proven to yourself tonight that the mind has complete control over the body. Desire rules judgment… and I want to rule you.” He smiled darkly. Before she could speak, powder was thrown into her face, blocking every orifice with a sickening gas. 
The anxiety was immediate. She saw strange creatures approach her from all sides, poking and prodding her with dirty nails. She saw the walls leak a disgusting fluid, like blood and fecal matter and it spilled over the floor. People sorted through the liquid for scraps, children screamed and cried around her. She’d been one of those children, raised in an orphanage because her parents couldn’t afford to keep her. Strange men swarmed the children, offering toxic treats and money for favors which the children shied away from. She screamed, pulling at her restraints as she tried to fight off the assailants. She shook her head violently side to side, and she screamed involuntarily with raw terror at what she saw. In the midst of a nightmare of Gotham’s poverty and dark underbelly, Dr. Jonathan Crane stood calmly before her. He watched her, his arms crossed against his chest. He cocked his head to the side. 
“What do you see,” he asked calmly. She turned her attention to him like he was a beacon of light in a horrible storm. 
“Jonathan, help me!” She cried. 
“Tell me what you see,” he said again and clucked his tongue to calm her. She looked around again at the people she saw, rummaging through mountains of trash. 
“Horrible… horrible poverty. The things… the things I saw as a child. People starving, children crying…” she whimpered. Rats scrambled across her body and she screamed again, shaking against the table. “Jonathan, please!” She called for him and he waded towards her, oblivious to the horror around him. He stood above her and stroked her face. He removed the restraints from her waist and her wrists and helped her sit up. The things she saw darted out of her peripheral vision, distorted now and hard to understand. She couldn’t run because she couldn’t tell where she was anymore, where her body was in relation to her perspective. Did she even still have a body?
Dr. Crane grunted as he helped her off the table and held her up beside him. She fainted in his arms and he carried her out of the secondary lab into the corridor. He punched the elevator’s call button with his free hand and dragged her inside. As the large steel doors closed, he fished for his cellphone in his pocket and called his driver, telling him to meet him outside the hospital immediately. Crane hushed her, gently patting her head though she was still unconscious. The elevator dropped them at the floor she’d entered on originally and Crane carried her to the side door, ignoring the looks the night attendants gave the strange couple. A sleek black car waited outside in the alley, the engine running and dispelling smoky exhaust into the air around them. Crane opened the car door and helped her inside, smirking at the security guard at the door. 
“Our meeting was successful, thank you officer.” He waved goodnight to the security guard who shifted awkwardly in his seat at the side door. Climbing in after her, Crane leaned over the console to speak with his driver. 
“My apartment, please.” He gave the order sternly, even with the addition of the ‘please,’ and the driver nodded, speeding off into Gotham’s dark streets. His hand rested comfortably on her thigh as he watched her. She started to come to in the backseat, though the effects of the drug had still not worn off. Her breath was fast and she leaned deliriously into Crane’s shoulder, seeking protection from what she saw outside the tinted windows. She was so afraid that she felt safer in the arms of the man that had drugged her, and it would take hours to realize that, but by the time she did, the psychological effects would have already taken root. 
ii 
The car stopped outside of a dark apartment building in one of the only nice parts of town in Gotham city. It was raining as he helped her back out of the car and into the large lobby of his apartment building. She clung to his arm as he led her into an elevator, playing a soft melody that sounded like shrill screams to her intoxicated mind. As the elevator doors opened, effects of the drug began to wane though her heartbeat was still racing. She looked up at Crane’s sharp jaw and how he clenched it as he opened the door to his apartment and pushed her gently inside. 
“I pay my people extra to turn a blind eye to everything that I do. I understand these circumstances appear even more nefarious, being that I have admittedly drugged you and brought you to my apartment. What can I say, I’m a bad feminist.” He smiled darkly and locked the door. 
“When do I stop seeing… these things?” She collapsed into a chair behind her and cradled her head in her hands. 
“The effects will be gone in an hour,” he responded coolly and switched on some of the lights in his modern apartment. The apartment was two stories with a spiral staircase and an elevator that led to the upstairs. She looked around, trying her best to ignore the hallucinations and study the actual apartment itself. 
“You’ll be disappointed to know that I don’t have a lab here, it’s against the building’s codes. I spend very little time here actually, I’m always at Arkham or dealing with detectives… like you. I’m a busy man. Like I already told you, I have plans to ‘treat’ Falcone tomorrow so I’ll need that room free. This is the next best option and I think you’ll find it more comfortable in comparison.” He smirked and flicked a switch, immediately two restraints looped tightly around her wrists, emerging from a panel in the arms of the chair that she hadn’t noticed. Second restraints looped around her ankles, reminding her as her ankles were spread apart that he had removed her underwear. She turned her knees inward, hiding her crotch and scoffing with frustration. 
“Again?” She groaned and pulled at the strong leather material holding her to the chair. 
“You sound disappointed,” Crane observed with a small smirk. “It’s only temporary. I didn’t get a chance to question you back at the lab, so we’ll do that here.” He gestured to his empty apartment and started to walk toward her slowly. His lips curled cruelly as he looked her up and down, strapped to the chair. “So tell me, what do you know?” He whispered and she stopped struggling for a moment. She still felt jumpy and nervous but having him so close relieved some of those feelings. The effects of the drug wore off more but the underlying sense of anxiety and loss of control prompted her to answer honestly.
I know that you are trying to make a powerful drug that mimics fear and so far, you’ve put it in a powder form. It works when ingested in some ways and immediately elicits a response that incapacitates the victim. You want to use it widely, to control Gotham…”
“Right, what else.” He leaned on the arms of the chair, his hands grasped around her wrists. 
“You don’t work for Falcone but you work with someone else. You’ve just been using Falcone’s drug operation to move your own prototypes of the fear serum. You want to be in charge and you know that fear can do whatever you want it to. The mind controls the body,” she recalled a sentence that he had used before he had thrown the powder in her face. “You’re also somehow connected to the missing micro-wave emmitter. I don’t know why but it may help you in some way, how?” She was breathing heavily like she was going to fall asleep. 
“Good work, detective.” 
“What are you using the micro-wave emitter for?” She asked. He chuckled and removed his hands from her wrists, backing up. He approached a small liquor cart and poured himself a drink, straight gin. She continued as he drank. 
“Who are you working with and how do you expect to control Gotham when everyone loses their minds?” She could barely contain her voice, anger and confusion rose into her throat like bile. 
“So many questions…” he swallowed and set down his glass, turning back to her slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to figure that out for yourself?” He raised his eyebrow. 
“The mirco-wave emitter would dry out any water supply that it comes into contact with. Wouldn’t it be easier to poison the water supply, you would reach more people… unless it doesn’t have the same effect when administered in water.” She looked up at him but his face was hard. “That’s why you’ve been using it in a powder, it only works in a powder form. If you dry up the water supply and release the powder into the air, there isn’t a way to combat the effects, is there?” 
Crane smiled and nodded slowly, “right again.” 
“How can you control people who have lost their minds on the serum? You can’t control chaos.” She furrowed her brow and leaned forward, questioning him. Crane cocked his head and studied her for a moment, noticing the last traces of the fear serum leaving her body. 
“Control has many forms, Y/N. The chaos that will come from my serum is planned, its existence is strategically executed.”
“But why are you doing this?” 
“I love it when you get flustered,” he chuckled darkly at her and licked his lips, his eyes rolling before returning to her face. “It’s not just me, I work for a large organization that has been responsible for all historical catastrophes throughout history. We deal in balance, balanced chaos. They hired me because I can control fear, I know how to use it and weaponize it. Gotham needs to be balanced and it cannot be balanced without it first destroying itself. Create a closed environment with the population’s problems and confront them with chaos, the balance will soon be restored.” 
“Who do you work for?” She whispered, her eyes wide. 
“Don’t you mean, who do we work for?” He crouched at her feet and placed his hands on her thighs. He smiled crazily up at her and she leaned away from him. 
“What?” She whispered. 
“I work for the League of Shadows, and now, so do you.” He dug his finger into the soft bottom of her chin and pushed her head up so that she could see the second floor more clearly. 
Standing at the rail were men clad in dark armor. One man stood out from the rest. He wore a black suit and carried a gold-tipped cane. He had long whiskers of gray hair like a mustache and steady cool eyes, deadlier than Crane’s.  
“Good work, Dr. Crane.” The man kept his focus on her and her blood went cold. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Miss —. We’ve heard so much about you and of course, you’re the one that has caused us so much trouble!” He laughed sarcastically and descended the spiral staircase. 
“Who are you?” She growled. 
“Ra’s Al Ghul,” he smiled and the wrinkles on his face creased, pulling against his eyes. “I see you’ve already become acquainted with Dr. Crane, our very own criminal mastermind.”
“You’re too kind,” Crane smarted back, watching the girl’s face as she tried to take in all of the new information. 
“Now, I have a job proposition to offer you, Miss —. You seem to have figured most of our plan out but I don’t think you understand the complexity of our organization. You see, the League of Shadows is an ancient organization that has balanced the harmony of every major city in the world since the beginning of time. Gotham has gone bad, to the point of no return. Your ‘Batman’ as you call him can’t reverse what has been brewing for years. He never saw what you did, how the people of Gotham live in filth and poverty while the elite few enjoy the spoils. This city needs to be reborn, it needs chaos to restore the balance.”
“But wouldn’t you be killing thousands of innocent people?” She interjected and Al Ghul shrugged slightly. 
“Nobody’s innocent,” he answered quickly and then inhaled, clarifying, “Anyway, that’s not what we want to do here. If we take control of the city and hold it for ransom, we can work out a deal to replace the crooked government with some of our people. I’m offering you a role alongside my people. You’re smart, all that evidence you collected against Crane- none of the senior officers could have held a match to it. We destroyed it of course, as soon as Crane told us about your little visit.” She looked past Al Ghul to Crane who leaned against the wall calmly. Had they destroyed the copies? How could she be sure that they were telling the truth? “The box of evidence you had put aside for Sgt. Gordon was the hardest to find but we found it. What made you suspect Dr. Crane? Was it a gut instinct?” He drew on before she interrupted him. 
“You want me to help you kill people?” She furrowed her brow and nearly laughed in disbelief. 
“We want your help to save Gotham from itself and establish a new and better government.” He corrected, fixing his posture. Crane watched her closely and spoke up from the back of the room. 
“She’ll do it,” he answered and she opened her mouth to interject but his smirk silenced her. “She’ll do it because whether or not she wants to admit it, Miss —, is like us.” Crane reached into his breast pocket and removed his glasses. He cleaned the panels with a dish towel and pushed them onto his nose. She looked between Crane and Al Ghul, her heart beating quickly in her chest. 
“Will you join us, will you help us save Gotham?” Ra’s Al Ghul placed both of his hands on top of his walking stick and shifted his weight evenly between his feet. Crane folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile played on his wide pink lips. Her decision surprised her but the serum had already changed her chemistry, Crane had revealed her true self to herself and there was only one choice left. 
“Yes,” she whispered. 
Crane nodded, “good girl.” 
iii 
She was released from her restraints and she rubbed her wrists where the leather marked them. Ra’s Al Ghul snapped his fingers and a map was rolled out on Crane’s dining room table. The map was of the entire city of Gotham, showing the sewer and water lines. They explained the plan, showing her where the micro-wave emitter would be placed in the city and how it would be moved through each neighborhood. 
“What about the police?” She asked and gestured to the map of the city. Crane laughed and shook his head. 
“You were the only cop that suspected this, the rest will have no idea until it's already started. The person we really need to worry about is Batman,” he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at Al Ghul, “luckily for him, an old friend is coming by to visit.” Al Ghul nodded and smiled kindly at her. 
“Batman and I go way back. I’ll take care of him.” 
“What am I supposed to do?” She asked, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Crane caught himself staring and cleared his throat. 
“You’ll help me with the production of the powder, ensuring that your cop friends don’t figure out too much and keeping Sgt. Gordon away from Arkham or leading him astray… anything,” Crane answered, setting his face as he spoke. She nodded. 
Though they had asked her to join their efforts, they also obviously didn’t trust her completely. They wouldn’t tell her everything, she knew. Her night had gone in a completely different direction than how she had imagined it. Everything had changed after the fear serum, it had shown her that what she feared most had already happened. The police were corrupt, run by small-time gangsters and criminals and crime continued to run rampant as the state lost more and more money, forcing social service organizations to close and more families out on the streets. This whole time she thought that the police could solve the problem but they only caused it. Crane was right, she was like him and she would do anything she could to change the city. After the meeting, Crane poured her a drink and dissolved a packet of powder into the liquor. He stirred it in front of her and Al Ghul before sliding it across the table’s surface. 
“This will put you to sleep for a few hours, twelve at most. It’s only a precaution to make sure that you have truly promised your allegiance to us. Everything that you say will be monitored from this point on.”
“Everything?” She looked at Crane who clenched his jaw, a faint tease of blush spread on his cheeks.
“Everything. Do as we say and follow our rules and you stay alive,” Crane finished and tapped the rim of the glass. “Now drink.” 
“How do I know that you aren’t just poisoning me?” She asked the men around her.
“We’re learning to trust each other, but you have to go first.” He smiled and when Al Ghul said nothing, she took the glass and drank it slowly. The last thing she saw were Crane’s eyes, set perfectly on her. 
She was conscious enough to set her glass down before falling back onto the couch. Crane approached her quickly and checked her pulse, monitoring her reaction to the drug. 
“Did it work?” Ra’s Al Ghul asked behind him and he nodded. 
“Yes, she’s out. Because of all the drugs in her system already, this one may take longer to wear off.” 
“All the other drugs?” Al Ghul raised his eyebrow and Crane chuckled. 
“I couldn’t help myself and besides,” he turned to Al Ghul, “you wanted her alive.” 
“I’m not convinced that we can trust her,” Al Ghul shook his head and pointed at the map for his men to clean up. 
“Oh, I’ll make sure we can.” 
“With your mind tricks?” Al Ghul teased and Crane sighed, rolling his beautiful eyes. 
“Don’t insult me, Ra’s. I know what I’m doing.” He warned the man calmly and nodded to the men. Two men helped carry her body as Crane led them back down the elevator into the lobby which was deserted at that time in the early morning. They climbed into Crane’s waiting car and pulled away from the curb. The girl’s body was limp against the seat and Crane resisted the urge to stare at her, fascinated by her sleeping body. The men carried her up to her apartment on the third floor of a small walkup. Crane rummaged through her coat pockets for the key into her apartment and unlocked the door. 
Her apartment was small and cozy, furnished with minimal couches and chairs. Books and art decorated the walls. Crane pushed through the door and directed the men to lie her down in her bedroom, the small room off of the main living area. They men looked back at him expectantly as he stood by the doorway, watching her sleep. He rolled his eyes and shooed them away. What did they think he was going to do? He’d already fucked her. Alone in her apartment, he stood by her bed and stroked her cheek. She slept on, engulfed by unconscious darkness. He leaned over her slowly and grasped her throat gently, exhaling across her face. He said nothing but looked her up and down and smirked, pleased at the sight of her. He’d won another spoil: her. 
 She woke up in her bed, twisted in the sheets as if she had been restless all night. She was sweaty and hot, the air stuffy around her. Crane and Al Ghul were nowhere to be seen. She checked her watch and hurried out of bed, stripping off her clothes from the night before and into black trousers and a dark blue sweater. She stumbled into the living room and wound her hair up into a claw clip, moving towards the door when a voice startled her. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Dr. Crane spoke from the couch. He was in a fresh suit and looked well-rested. He was taking notes in a file on Falcone, his briefcase sat on the coffee table in front of him. She jumped, gasping from shock. 
“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?” 
“I was waiting for you to wake up. We have work to do today. That bitch at the DA’s office wants to speak with me. I'm supposed to meet with her this afternoon. She’s questioning Falcone’s transfer.”
“I ordered the transfer after you did Falcone’s interview, maybe I could meet with her instead.” 
“No, I need you to take this file to the judge on Falcone’s case. I can handle her questions.” He stood and held out Falcone’s file. “I already gave my statement at the hearing but this file will confirm my medical opinion, hopefully that will get her off my back.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. 
“Do you think Falcone will talk if she speaks with him?” 
“Possibly,” he bent his head side to side and shrugged, “but we aren’t going to find out. Let’s go,” he snapped his briefcase closed and made for the front door. She glanced from the couch to her bedroom.
“Were you watching me all night?” She flushed angrily and followed him. He closed the door suddenly and spun her around, forcing her back against the front door. 
“I can only say this once because they aren’t listening now but as soon as we get in the car, they’ll be monitoring you. I am keeping you alive, Miss —. I will do everything in my power to keep you alive but the second you step away from me, you’re on your own. I know we have an understanding so believe me when I say that I would prefer very much if you didn’t die. Follow my directions because they’re following you.” He said in a harsh whisper, a strand of hair falling into his face. They stared at each other in silence, exchanging breath when he kissed her harshly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly against his lips. He bucked into her hips and she gasped softly against his jaw. And just as quickly, he pulled away, breathing heavily and led her out the door and down the stairs into the waiting car. 
“I’ll need my gun back,” she pointed out as they settled on the backseat. Crane sighed, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He opened a small compartment in the car door and retrieved her gun. As he held it out, he took her jaw in his other hand, his thumb pressing into her fleshy cheek. 
“This is where that trust would come in handy, detective.” He whispered darkly. She looked at his lips and then up to his eyes, speechless around him. He watched her struggle for words and chuckled, handing her the gun. “Be careful, Y/N, and remember Ra’s plan.” He looked at her lips and sniffed, slapping the roof of the car. “This is her stop.” 
iv 
She met with the judge who oversaw Falcone’s case and gave him the thick folder. He looked at it briefly before recognizing the information. 
“I appreciate you coming out to speak to me about Falcone’s transfer to Arkham but I cleared everything with Ms. Dawes yesterday. She’s already scheduled a second psychiatrist to meet with Falcone first thing tomorrow morning. She mentioned that she’s also requested Dr. Crane’s case file. Has she seen this?” He waved the folder and she clicked her tongue, shocked that she had scheduled a second opinion and that Crane didn’t know about it.
“I’m not sure, sir. I was the detective working with the prosecution and I was the one who oversaw Dr. Crane’s examination and request for transfer. I can attest to Falcone's mood at the time as well. He screamed nonstop as Crane was trying to conduct a test of sanity. Anyway, I wanted to make sure that you saw Dr. Crane’s diagnosis in the aftermath of his transfer. This has updated notes that Dr. Crane shared with me. It might be useful in your deliberation.” She smiled and the judge looked down his nose at the folder. 
“Good point. Thank you, detective. This is helpful.” He opened the folder on his desk and put on his rounded spectacles. 
“Well now that we’ve spoken, I’ll try to catch Dawes and save her the trouble.” She pushed back her chair and brushed off her trousers. 
“Miss —?” The judge called from his desk. 
“Yes, sir?” She looked back.
“Dr. Crane has committed many of Falcone’s men to Arkham in the past few months, is that correct?” 
“Yes,” she nodded and her heart raced. 
“That must be a pretty crazy group.” The judge laughed and went back to the folder, completely missing the pattern. She sighed in relief and left quickly. She started to walk to Arkham, moving so quickly she felt like she may have been running. Dawes had already scheduled a second opinion, meaning that she was probably at Arkham pressuring Crane for his detailed diagnosis. It would take Dawes one second to figure it out so she hoped she could get there quickly enough to do something. She had no plan which she knew was stupid but whatever was bound to happen in the next few hours would be bad and she needed to help Crane. Her phone began to ring and she put it to her ear. 
“Hello?”
“Y/N.”
“Ra’s?”
“Are you on your way to Arkham?”
“Yes, sir.” 
“Turn around and go back to your precinct. I want you to stick close to Sgt. Gordon, go where he goes. You’re his top detective so run with it. If anything happens at Arkham, he’ll be there and I want you there with him. Crane will be fine.”
She slowed to a stop, skeptical but wanting to believe what her new boss was telling her, “ok, sir.”
After a second of silence, Ra’s added, “It’s Batman’s birthday and what better way to celebrate a playboy than with chaos?” The call ended before she could respond. 
She spun around and headed straight for the precinct. She spotted Gordon at his desk, working on paperwork. She hurried over and knocked on the door, letting herself in when he waved. 
“Good, I’m glad to see you. I need to run some ideas by you for the Falcone case.” 
“I just dropped off Crane's diagnosis for the judge but he said that Dawes may be seeking a second opinion.” 
“About that -” The intercom went off with a loud screech. 
“Attention all units! Attention all units! Batman was spotted at Arkham Asylum. He is believed to be armed and dangerous. Backup is requested at this time.” The voice repeated with a robotic drone. Sgt. Gordon looked from the speaker to her and grabbed his coat from his chair. 
“We need to get to the asylum right now.” Gordon yelled and she followed him closely, checking that her gun was still secured to her hip. She clipped her badge to her front pocket and pretended to sound confused. 
“Why are we going, Sgt? Do you think this is about Falcone?”
“It might, I’d feel better if I was there to find out; and if Batman is there, someone’s in trouble.” They hurried down the stairs and climbed into a car. Gordon sped away from the precinct and ran red lights. The tires bled across the roads as they came to a screeching halt behind a row of police cars parked outside the Asylum. 
“Why is everyone waiting outside?” She yelled over the noise. An officer standing with his gun aimed at the building yelled back. 
“We’re waiting for backup!”
“They’ll be here soon, sir. We should wait!” She yelled over the noise at the Sgt. 
Gordon looked up at the building and pulled his gun from his holster. He started moving towards the building, looking back to wave her on. 
“I’m going in. You coming?” He called. 
She groaned anxiously beneath her breath before responding, “yes, sir!” They raced up the stairs into the lobby which was left completely vacant. Gordon held up his gun and she followed suit, staying close behind him. She felt the urge to kill him now and find Crane but her gut warned her that someone else was in the room, watching. They walked slowly through the main corridor, past the abandoned security checkpoint, creeping closer to the wide atrium. When they stepped beneath the enormous domed ceiling a loud noise broke through the top of the building. She looked up and covered her face with her forearm to protect her eyes from large shards of falling glass. She saw a large dark blur surround Sgt. Gordon and pull him up to the roof. 
“Sgt. Gordon!” She yelled after him. She knew immediately that the blur was that bastard Batman. A small laugh escaped her mouth as she shook her head and lowered her gun. A group of SWAT ran in seconds later. She pointed at the ceiling with her gun and called them over. 
“He came down and took Sgt. Gordon!”
“Who?” Someone yelled at her and she shook her head, pretending to be unsure. 
“I don’t know! I think it was Batman.” She yelled, adding to their panic. 
“Batman!” Someone shouted and in the moment of distraction, she slipped away into a side corridor. She bolted towards a staircase and stopped at every floor, looking for signs of activity. Her body burned with soreness as she sprinted down each corridor. She wanted to scream his name but her lungs wouldn’t allow her the extra air to do so. She rounded a corner and ran into a group of police. They all started shouting at her until she showed them her badge. 
“I’m a detective- What the hell is going on here?” She yelled. 
“We’re looking for Dr. Crane!”
“Have you seen Sgt. Gordon?” She asked, panting and trying not to panic when they mentioned Crane’s name. “He disappeared and I've been looking for him.”
“No, we haven’t. We got a call that they found drugs in the building and then Batman showed up. Crane was running the operation.” One police officer responded and jerked their head to the side where they were going to run next. “It's down this corridor!”  
“I’ll come with you,” she shouted and led the unit, her gun pointed at the ground. Two large doors were falling off their hinges further down the hallway. The room itself was smokey and gaseous. She looked down from the doorway where there were stairs leading into a cement lined room like an empty indoor pool. Tables were littered with Crane’s fear serum and men that she assumed were dead. Huge vats of liquid marked with a toxic symbol sat on their sides by an open waterline. 
“This is it,” she said to the officer beside her and started to descend the staircase. The smoke made it hard to see so she moved slowly, looking around the floor for Crane’s familiar face. The men she saw were all part of Falcone’s posse who had been hired to help the drug operation run. Something snapped beneath her food and she looked down, seeing Crane’s scarecrow mask which she recognized from his drawing. She picked it up and looked around anxiously, her fingers around the gun shook. Then she saw him. Crane was propped up against a wall and bleeding slightly from the head, a thin trail of blood oozed on the wall behind his head. He was panting and flailing around, his pupils were mere penpoints. He’d been attacked with his own fear powder. She looked around before dropping into a crouch beside him. He recognized her but continued to shake, his eyes darting around her head. 
“Jonathan,” she whispered, “it's me.” 
“Did you find him?” Someone shouted and she yelled back that she had. He raised a judgemental eyebrow, his mouth forming a cuss word. His glasses were gone. 
“Trust me, Crane.” She whispered against his ear and held his wrists together. She took her handcuffs from her belt and handcuffed him. 
She leaned against the wall and tapped her foot anxiously as they strapped him into a white straightjacket. She crossed the room and helped the officer secure the last belt, thankful for any excuse to touch him and remind him that she was still there. Looking up at her, he spat and she flinched slightly. His light eyes were ringed with red swollen skin and she wondered if he really felt betrayed by her. She wiped his spit from her cheek and returned to her place by the wall. 
“So this is the scarecrow,” Sgt. Gordon entered the room and let the door slam shut. Crane jumped from the noise and closed his eyes, taking a deep shaky breath. 
“Scarecrow… scarecrow.” Crane whispered with his eyes closed and shifted within the straightjacket. Sgt. Gordon pulled up a chair, the metal scraping against the floor, bristling Crane into opening his eyes. 
“What was the plan, Crane? How were you going to get the toxin into the air?” Gordon asked calmly and fingered the scarecrow mask. Her stomach turned watching Crane struggle to regain control over his mind. He shook and his eyes darted around the room, landing once or twice on her. She kept a straight face, giving no sign that she was terrified that something would happen to him or she would accidentally reveal something about him that they didn’t already know. When Crane didn’t respond, Gordon continued, his voice rising. 
“Who were you working for?” Gordon pressed and Crane’s eyes snapped to his, a crazy smile pulling at his lips. 
“Oh, it’s too late. You can’t stop it now.” He spoke through shivers, cutting up his words. He smiled at the end and Gordon shook his head. He stood and shoved the mask into her hands. 
“Here. Stay with Crane.” He growled and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the heavy steel door. She looked down at the mask in her hands and hid her smile. There was only one officer left in the room with them and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to come up with a quick plan. 
“Are there any officers outside?” She asked the cop by the door who peeked his head outside the door. 
“No, ma’am.” 
“Good,” she smiled and raised her gun when the door snapped behind him. “Then this should be easy.” She cocked the gun and cornered the officer. “Face the wall,” she ordered and when he turned, she hit him over the head with the butt of her pistol, knocking him unconscious. She quickly handcuffed him and checked outside one last time before running over to Crane. He was still recovering from the toxin, his face set in a deep frown. She began to free him from his restraints, glancing at the door every few seconds. His eyes stayed on her face and he kept muttering things below his breath. When she undid the last restraint he jumped up and it fell from around his shoulders to the floor. She started to smile when he lunged at her and pushed her up against the tiled wall. Her hair clip cracked against the tile and clattered to the floor in pieces. She gasped beneath his hands, one holding her throat and the other grabbing the slack in her sweater, exposing her navel. 
“You betrayed me,” he growled, “you told Gordon... I saw you.” His eyes were wild and glazed, he looked right through her.
“What?” she gasped out though his hand was crushing her windpipe. 
“I saw you two! You fucked him. You fucked him!” He yelled, his body shook with anger like he was coming down from an adrenaline high. 
“No, I didn’t!” She struggled beneath his hands, “this is the toxin talking, Jonathan! I didn’t betray you-”
“But you fucked him,” his voice twisted into a heatbreaking whine, an image flicked before his eyes and he closed them quickly, shaking it from his head.
“No!” She coughed and she could feel herself getting light-headed. 
“You love him,” his voice was breaking beneath him and his eyes darted between hers as the toxin showed him more and more; everything of which included her.
“Jonathan!” she screamed and hit his chest hard with closed fists, “I can’t fucking breathe!” 
His eyes snapped open wider and he released his grip around her throat. Her feet landed on the ground and she coughed, sinking into a crouch against the wall. Crane stepped back and watched her silently. He was still shaking as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair. 
“Why would I save you if I loved him?” She cried in frustration, rubbing her bruised throat. “It’s the toxin, Jonathan… I didn’t do the things you think I did,” her voice softened. She looked up at him and stood slowly, grabbing onto the wall for support. Crane cradled his head in his hands and whimpered. 
“What do you see?” she asked quietly and stepped closer. He shook his head and created more distance between them. “Jonathan, tell me.” She pressed and he exhaled with a soft shutter.
“You… fuck,” he started through heavy breaths, working himself up again. “I see you and Gordon…” He rubbed his eyes and looked back up at her. “It’s been so long since…”
“Since what?” She furrowed her brow, questioning. His eyes darted away into the corner and he shook.
“Since my father last used it…” he took a deep breath and finished his sentence with a lengthy exhale, “on me.” 
“The fear toxin?” She whispered, slowly starting to understand what he was suggesting. He nodded and flinched as if something had attacked him. Was he saying that his father used a prototype of the fear toxin on him? She grabbed onto the sleeve of his suit jacket and tugged his attention away. 
“It’s just me. There’s no one else- nothing else in here except for me,” she gestured to the nearly empty room (the officer was still unconscious in the corner). “And I’m here for you,” she whispered and closed the distance between them, her hands slipped around his small waist beneath his suit jacket. She felt his body tense beneath her embrace before slowly (very slowly) releasing its tension. He didn’t hug her back but rested his forehead on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, and found the shallow wound on the back of his head. She ducked her head as she pulled away, finding his mouth and kissing him gently. The toxin was slowly wearing off and she could tell he was only beginning to return to his normal self. 
“We need to get up to my office,” he muttered and looked at the door. “They’re releasing the patients.”
“What?” She furrowed her brow. Crane sighed and shook his head. 
“Ra’s gave orders to open all of the cells. The patients will be let loose into the city.” He licked his lips and looked down at her. “We need to get upstairs.” His expression was tense as she could tell he was trying to fight the lingering effects of the toxin. She nodded. 
“Show me where to go.” 
He pulled her through the door and they ran down the corridor to an elevator. When the doors opened, Crane used his key to override the system, preventing anyone else from calling the elevator. He pressed the button for the floor with his office, not realizing that his other hand was squeezing tightly around hers. When the doors opened again, they rushed down the hallway and into Crane’s office. He sighed when the door was locked and the blinds closed. 
“What are we going to do?” She asked him quietly and he inhaled slowly. 
“I need to inject you with the antidote so the toxin doesn’t affect you when we leave the building.” He murmured, more to himself.
“We’re going out there?” She tried to keep the fear from her voice but he detected it instantly, raising an eyebrow. 
“Are you scared?” He asked automatically. 
“Of both of us dying out there at the hands of one of your old patients, yes, yes I am.” She nearly laughed. 
“Don’t you want to be part of the fun?” The Jonathan Crane she knew was definitely coming back. 
“I’d rather not become the ‘fun’,” she quipped and he smirked. 
“As you wish.” 
She followed him into his lab and he rummaged through a collection of vials arranged on one of the counters. Finding the right one, he slipped it inside a cartridge of what looked like an epipen. 
“Pull down your pants,” he ordered and then it was her turn to raise her eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that and do what I tell you,” he said sternly and she did as he asked, pulling down her trousers where he had access to her thigh. “This will hurt,” he warned her before immediately plunging the needle into the fat around her thigh. She hissed in pain and heaved out a breath. 
“The good news is that you don’t have to ever do this again,” he patted her leg and buttoned her pants for her. “Now me,” he changed the vial and unbuckled his pants. He raised the hem of his boxers and punctured the needle into his upper thigh. He grunted in pain and closed his eyes for a moment and whistled out a tight breath. A large explosion shook the ground below their feet. She jumped and winced as she landed on her sore leg. Without opening his eyes, Crane nodded. 
“And that would be the patients leaving the building now.” He withdrew the needle and tossed it to the side, buckling his pants. 
“Let me see your head,” she touched his arm and he leaned forward slightly, turning his head where she could see it clearly. She carded her fingers through his dark hair and parted the dark roots away from the shallow wound. “It's a small cut, you’ll live.” 
“Thanks, doctor.” He smirked. Her fingers shifted through his hair as he straightened and she tried not to look disappointed when they were no longer twirled around his black locks. 
“Are you back now?” She looked up into his eyes, looking for trances of fear. 
“I think so,” he responded and traced his index finger around the collar of her sweater. There were small bruises where his fingers had been when he forced her against the wall in his state of panic. “Was I terrible?” He whispered. 
“Not more than usual,” she laughed lightly and covered his hand with hers. “I’m ok.” She insisted and he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips. 
He was going to apologize, he was going to tell her how much he loved her and that was why he had reacted so strongly to the toxin, but the words died on his lips so instead he said, “We should leave before the city goes all the way under.”
“They’ll raise the bridges so no one can leave, it’s too late.” 
Crane chuckled and leaned against the lab table behind him, his fingers grasping around the edge. “And once again, you severely underestimate me. Come on.” 
vi 
“Get on,” Crane held the bridle and gestured for her to mount the large black steed. 
“You’re kidding right?” She looked around at the burning city and then back to the police horse who’d lost its rider. 
“I wish I was,” he sighed and tugged her closer by her waistband, “now giddy-up, Miss —.” He joked flatley and pushed her up onto the saddle. He hoisted himself up after her and sat in front, taking the reins in his hands. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed her thighs around the horse's stomach, holding on for dear life. 
“Where the hell did you learn to ride a horse?” She yelled over the panic and she felt him chuckle. 
“Oh, there are a lot of things that you don’t know about me, detective.” He smirked and kicked the horse into action. She gasped and held him tighter as they flew through the violence-strewn streets. She couldn’t imagine how ridiculous they looked to the people of Gotham but under the influence of the fear toxin, she hoped people were more afraid than amused seeing a man in a full suit riding a horse. Crane focused on the route ahead, navigating them through the broken city. 
“Where’s Ra’s?” She yelled into his ear. 
“Forget about him.” He growled and urged the horse faster. 
“Why? What happened?” 
“He tricked me. He didn't just want to impose an arguably better government, he wanted to kill everyone and to kill us too. He tipped off Batman and that’s how Batman found me. He didn't need me after the toxin had been released. He kept you away from me, didn’t he?” He called over his shoulder, leaping over a crashed car. 
“Yes, he told me to go to the precinct instead when I tried to warn you about the DA.” 
“He wanted Batman to find me and he assumed that you’d get stuck here after you followed Gordon. Two birds with one stone. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” He growled and turned the horse onto a side-street and into an alley. 
“Where are we going?” She asked, her grip tightening around Crane as she saw people screaming in the streets. 
“To my father’s house.” 
“How?” His father’s house? After his father had probably done something horrible to him?
“Just hold on,” he warned and flicked the reins again. She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the terror in the streets. While some of it gave her pleasure to see the raw side of humanity express itself, it reminded her of what she had seen as a child- the side of people that came out when they needed to survive. 
They rode to the edge of the city and Crane slowed the horse to a stop beside a tall building that looked abandoned. He hopped off of the horse and helped her down, catching her as she forced herself to slip over the saddle. The building was far enough away from the inner-city that it looked like it hadn’t been touched yet by the chaos, though the toxins had definitely reached it. 
“We need to get to the roof,” he informed her calmly and pointed her to the elevator. 
“Another elevator…” she whispered beneath her breath, knowing it wasn’t the right time to mention how much she hated the idea of going into one when the world around them was ending. Crane pressed the button labeled “20R,” and the elevator began to soar up. The elevator had windows that opened into the city. As the elevator climbed, they could see the destruction of Gotham and right across the bridge, normalcy.
“Ra’s is moving the micro-wave emitter by the high speed rail. If his plan goes accordingly, the emitter will poison the other side of the city beneath Wayne tower.” He pointed out the tall Wayne building from their vantage point. “I hate Gotham and I hate Batman, but I think I hate Ra’s Al Ghul more.” He sneered distastefully. “We could have run Gotham…” he sighed and shrugged, “maybe another day.” 
She couldn’t help herself but laugh. Being with Crane had opened her eyes to a new side of herself, one that was dark and masochistic. She liked this side better, way better. She liked thinking that one day she could be in charge, force out all of the government officials that were too dumb or sexist to listen to her. She could lead beside Crane… 
When the elevator doors opened a gust of wind met them. The doors opened onto the roof of the huge building. A helicopter stood in the center of a large bull’s eye, its blades running in circles above their heads. Crane’s hair ruffled in the wind and he squinted his eyes against it. Her mouth fell open in shock and Crane chuckled at her reaction. 
“That’s the funny thing about, trust, detective. I don’t believe in it,” he smirked and beckoned her to the helicopter’s doors. 
“You planned this?” She yelled as he gestured her to climb onto the landing gear. 
“Of course,” he smiled, "I always have a backup plan." Her mary janes slipped across the bars as she climbed and Crane supported her back, guiding her back into the body of the machine. He pulled himself inside after her and collapsed in one of the seats. She tried to orient herself, looking around the small helicopter, landing on the pilot. The pilot nodded at Crane, he was wearing a thick mask and goggles to keep the toxin away. 
“Ready doctor?” The pilot called from the front and Crane nodded breathlessly. He looked at her and clenched his jaw, returning to the version of Crane she knew so well. 
“Yes.”
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sunlightmurdock · 1 month
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okay apocalypse dbf!jake will not let me go again so- I need the confession 🙏 I need the tear-stained first kiss after an attack, with too much adrenaline and too little care for the inappropriate age gap
EEK me either me either me either ! I’m so insane about him rn
And I feel like this particular attack would be a big one. Resources are running low and Jake won’t leave you up on that mountain by yourself, so he has no choice but to bring you with him. He has done what he can, preparing you for this.
It scares you, even when it’s just all pretend with him. He’s not as kind when he’s training you. Even as you’re crying and telling him to stop it, that you don’t want to, he’s yelling and insisting that you aim straight and breathe — that these things won’t stop no matter how much you cry, or scream, or beg.
He doesn’t mean to be cruel. It would be far more cruel to leave you unprepared, to let something happen to you.
This is a low stakes run, but you can feel that he’s unhappy having you here. It’s itching at you that maybe it’s because you couldn’t hit that target last time. He had tied a thick tree branch to a length of rope, pushed hard, and let it swing. Your first moving target. Not so much as a chip in the wood. You’ve got a pretty big knife, one that could tear muscle from bone— he won’t give you a gun.
You know he’s focused on protecting you, it’s an awful feeling to think that you may not be able to do the same for him, especially after all he has done for you so far.
It’s a gas station, back off of the road, early enough on that it hasn’t yet been completely raided. Heavy metal shutters cover the windows, but Jake makes quick work of the padlocks on the back door. The power has all gone out by now, it’s just the light from your flashlights to guide the way. Jake is two paces ahead, close enough to jump back and pull you behind him if he needs.
It’s eerily quiet. You’re stuck to him like a shadow as he surveys for danger, and ultimately decides that it’s okay.
Keep away from the doors and windows, stay where I can see you. Dejected and feeling more uselessly childish than you have in a long time, you sweep the shelves and take what you can while Jake does the same. Continually, he checks over top of the shelves to see if he can see the top of your head.
It’s going too well, it tricks you both into thinking that this is going to be easy. You’re focused, on your knees and rummaging through the medicines to take everything you could need. You don’t even notice the noise that you’re making. Jake doesn’t mind the rummaging sounds, it means he can hear where you are without needing to watch.
But then, so can the employee who took such care to fortify this place before he took swallowed back a cocktail and pills the second that he saw his home in flames and his undead mother staggering around on the news footage. He made himself comfortable before he passed. His shoes and his jacket are in the back room. His socks are almost silent against the linoleum as he staggers around the corner.
He’s tall, and skinny, and hadn’t hurt anyone in his entire life. But he’s close enough by the time you spot him that his height gives you no room to stand up. His eyes are wide and gorging, the sockets sullen and lifeless. You haven’t seen one of them so clean before, part of him still looks human. His lips are pulled back, animal, growling weakly as he reaches for you and tumbles forwards.
Jake hears the scream and he swears that he’s going to be too late. Even just across the floor of the gas station — it takes seconds for one of those things to get their jaws around you. He’s sick to his stomach, his gun pulled and the safety off, uncaring about if the sound draws attention for miles around.
He rounds the corner and spots the puddle of dark, thick blood first. His heart sinks to his stomach, until he realises that it isn’t yours. You push the corpse back, off of you. Your knife is plunged through the socket of its eye, it’s dead. You take one look at Jake, and crumble, tears pouring from your eyes as you stare at your blood soaked hands.
“Shh, I’m here. Shh, shh, shh. You’re okay,” Jake whispers, sinking to his knees and pulling you off of the floor, cradling you in his arms as he kisses the top of your head. “It’s alright, I’m right here. You’re safe, you’re okay.”
“I didn’t— I didn’t see it— it was —“
“I know, sweet girl,” Jake whispers, rubbing soothingly at your back. He presses his lips together and kisses softly at your temple. “You did so good. You did it. You’re alright now.”
Again, Jake kisses your temple softly, hugging you closer. His weight and his smell, his strong arms wrapped around you. All of it almost makes you forget where you are. Blinking back any more tears, you turn your head as he kisses at your temple again. This time, you’re looking at him as he pulls back.
Tears soaking your lashes and your cheeks, staring up at him. Jake’s throat feels thick, his mouth suddenly dry as your fingers press into his arms. You are okay, you did it. He’s here. You sit forwards first, and Jake’s met with the exact thing that he has been trying to stop himself from thinking about for these past few weeks. Your lips are just as soft as they look, and your hands pawing at his arms make him melt into you.
Before all of this, Jake tried so hard to fight it. You’re so much younger. Your father would have never approved. Now, he supposes — it doesn’t matter. What matters, is keeping you safe, and he’s so glad that you’re safe.
His hand grabs firmly at the nape of your neck as he presses closer, deepening his hold on you, kissing you firmly.
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stilespeters · 7 months
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As it was
pairing: Kit Walker x fem!reader
a/n: This was one of my drafts that I finally managed to finish after like 6 months. Anyway its long as hell and I reread and revised it like 100 times. Send help
word count: 8298💀
summary: The relationship of you and Kit is put to the test when Kit is framed for the Bloodyface murders. Once he is let out from hell on earth, you two try and mend what's broken and reminiscence about the last night everything was still normal.
warnings: none really
3 months ago
“Something smells good mrs. Walker. I’m starvin’.” Kit closed the door and placed his car keys on the counter. You were standing near the dining table with your back towards the door, and as your head turned, you saw him remove his jacket. 
“I made your favorite, lasagna.” his face lit up and he smiled as he walked towards you in your one story house.
“I made it with extra cheese, just how you like it.”
“You know me so well,” 
He stood behind you and you felt his breath on your neck as his arms snaked around your waist, making you shiver and sigh. You have known him for a long time, but every time he touched you felt like the first time. His hands then moved to your shoulders and he massaged them while planting kisses in your neck.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he hummed as he wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head on your shoulder “Are you on the menu?” 
“Nope.”
“Well that's too bad. Can’t I have you as first course?” his voice was low and his fingertips left trails of circles on your arm as he continued to trail kisses on your exposed neck. He had tried it many times before when he came back from work. He would tease you and before you knew it a small peck on the cheek turned into a make out session on the table. A little while after, your feet would inevitably dance to the bedroom. 
There were multiple times where you had tried to resist, but Kit Walker was simply irresistible. This time however, you succeeded and you turned around to face him while holding his hands. “I thought you were starving, what about the food?”
He gave a cheeky smile while downcasting his gaze to your lips. “That’s not what I’m hungry for.”
You weren’t falling for his trap. You weren’t falling for his dark, half lidded and sultry eyes. You weren’t falling for his low sexy voice. You weren’t falling for his pink lips and sexy, tousled, golden brown hai-
Focus!
You had to get your mind out of the gutter and be strong.
“But the lasagna is gonna get cold.” his fingers danced on the skin of your arms, but he didn’t go further. “So we better make it quick.” He waited for your approval to go further.
Why did he have to make this so hard?
As he leaned down to kiss you, his lips barely grazed yours before you gently pushed his chest. His lips were pouted as he stared at you. “Mr Walker,” your voice became serious as you raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms “First lasagna.”
“First lasagna.” he repeated and you smiled at that. He pulled the stool for you to sit down. It was something he always did, a small but sweet gesture.
When he took the first bite, he moaned and closed his eyes. “Everytime you make lasagna it gets tastier and tastier. It’s pure heaven.” 
You took a bite of your own and your lips curled as you watched him. “So how was work?”
He went quiet for a second. “It was alright, the same as any other night. It was busy though.” He left out the part where Billy and his friends scared the crap out of him by stealing Al’s gun from the safe. Kit knew you weren't too fond of them. They were nothing but pure trouble. They were always trying to drag Kit along with them and clearly they didn’t understand or see the discomfort he projected. 
Billy had also tried several times in the past to make advances towards you and Kit knew that you were uncomfortable. Even at the gas station he made a remark about giving you a visit when Kit was at work, and when Kit got mad, Billy said he couldn’t take a joke.
Just the thought of it made his blood boil.
“What about you? How was your day?”
You set down your fork and chewed the last bit of lasagna. “I cleaned the house, I did some reading in the garden, got some groceries for tomorrow and I watched My fair lady. I believe the name of the actress was Audrey Hepburn, I read an article about her. Lovely actress," you paused, “Oh and I fixed the shower.” 
Kit looked up from his food and swallowed the piece of lasagna in his mouth. “Really? That's great.” Tonight, Kit was supposed to look at the shower which seemed to be defective, but you had spare time and decided to see for yourself. Turns out you were quite a handy woman.
“How did you fix it?”
“I tightened the loose pipes and the noise suddenly just stopped. It took me a while to figure out, but I had enough spare time.”
"Wow-" Before he could say anything else, you continued.
“-I also got the wine stain from your shirt.”
Kit smiled brightly at hearing what you did today and he felt proud that he was able to say that you were his girl. Not a lot of husbands can tell to their colleagues that their wife fixed the shower. He placed his hand on yours from across the table and drew light circles on your knuckles -something he always tended to do.
 “What would I do without you.”
The corners of your mouth curled upwards at the sight of your husband’s excitement.
“Without me, you’d probably come home to an empty and quiet house after work,” you shrugged “Or to another woman’s arms.”
He grimaced at that and shook his head. “The thought of that makes me want to vomit.”
“Not over the food, please.”
He mimicked vomiting over the lasagna and you swatted his arm lightly as you gasped melodramatically. “Kitson Henry Walker, are you insulting my cooking?”
“Oh I wouldn't dare.”
“Good, because I don't take insults lightly.” You crossed your arms and tried to act serious, but Kit saw right through you and chuckled.
“Sure you do.”
You let out another playful gasp and sat back in your chair. “Excuse me? Without me you wouldn't get the privilege to taste the best food in Massachusetts.”
“Well luckily I don’t have to worry about a world without you.” 
“You’re right. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a long time.”
“Dang it, that reeeaally sucks.” his lips were in a thin line and you couldn't help but break character and laugh. Shortly after, Kit joined in and together you ate the last bits of your lasagna.
As you looked at him while he ate your food, you felt like you were in a trance.
Your sister had told you once that you two were made for each other because you two shared the same interests, had the same humor, and basically were each other's equal. She had said it was almost creepy how perfectly you two were together.
However when you and Kit announced your engagement, your sister had told you how she had experienced her past marriage.
After being mrs. Walker for two weeks, she came over from California and had said that once the newlyweds phase was over, the relationship would falter quickly until it’s a repetitive bunch of torture until you both perish. She said nothing good lasts forever, and once everything feels perfect, something happens that breaks everything down.
She had promised you that a day would come where the passion that once burned like a forest fire, would quickly become smoke to ash.
You refused to believe it and you were right to do so. You were in a relationship for 5 years with Kit, having met when you were both 18 when Kit's friends introduced you to each other at Benny's barn. Ever since you made it official, the passion between the two of you had never once faltered. Not even a tiny bit.
You believed that nothing wrong could happen, and that even if something small happened, you’d still love him unconditionally. This man could do literally anything and you’d still love him. Him just breathing made you swoon. You were still as much in love with him as the day you first saw him.
When you both finished your food, you stood up to do the dishes. You always wanted to finish something immediately so you could have time to relax, but as your feet moved to the kitchen, Kit stopped you.
“Wait.” He stood up and walked to the door. You couldn't exactly see what he was doing as you tried to peek over his shoulder, but you heard the clear sound of a paper bag.
“I got you something.” You now noticed the paper bag in his hands and your heart melted. “Oh Kit, you shou-” 
“-Before you decline my gift because your heart's way too good and you feel bad because you feel like you owe me, I saw this in the store in town and immediately thought of you. I had to buy it for you.” 
“To what do I owe this?” 
“Well, I came home just now and the most amazing woman to ever grace the earth made my favorite meal, plus she looks and smells amazing. I just couldn't find a better moment.” Your heart melted.
“My beautiful girl deserves everythin’.”
Your cheeks almost hurt from how wide your smile was. “I already got my everything in front of me.”
To that, he pressed his lips against yours and sighed heavenly before handing you the paper bag. You gave him a knowing look as he stared down on you in anticipation, and you opened it. When you saw the object in it, your eyes went big and you squealed in excitement.
“Oh my god, Kit. Is this what I think it is?” You had a sealed vinyl in your hand and Kit nodded happily as he took in your reaction. 
It was a popular song that had just been released and was your favorite to sing along when it came on the radio. Kit had noticed how your face lit up and how you upped the volume every time you heard it in the car and so he decided to save up on the side to get it on a vinyl for you. 
You immediately hugged him tightly before moving towards the phonograph and placing the vinyl in the holder. As the music filled the room, you swayed your head to the rhythm and walked back to Kit. “Thank you, I love it!”
He smiled widely and grabbed your hand as you spun around in the living room to the music. Kit sang along as he pointed a finger at you.
“Pretty woman, walking down the street. Pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet. Pretty woman, I don’t believe you, you’re not the truth. No one could look as good as you.”
You had danced and twirled for a while, the dishes long forgotten, and the ends of your dress lifted as you twirled and twirled. Together you swayed to the rhythm and sang along. 
As the song came to an end, Kit placed another vinyl that you got for him a few months ago for his birthday. Together you slowly danced to ‘At last’ by Etta James, and when you closed your eyes as you held on tight to him, you felt like nothing could tear you two apart.
Your cheek was pressed against his chest while his chin rested atop your head, and his hand was on your back whilst his other hand was tangled with yours. The music was soft, the black sky outside was contrasting with the lights, and the cold you felt just an hour ago when you were alone had been long forgotten the moment his eyes met yours from across the room. 
You felt his heartbeat hammer at a rapid pace and when you looked up at him, you saw he was already smiling down at you. “Hi.” You whispered and he chuckled, the sound vibrating through your entire body.
“Hello gorgeous.” His eyes darted from your piercing eyes to your lips and he admired every detail of your face. At that moment he wondered how he was the one to end up with you. How he was the one to dance with you at this very moment. He didn't know how he got so lucky, but he was relishing and enjoying every second.
Oh how he wished he could stop time to stay like this forever.
You had noticed his eyes scanning you and you tried to find a reason as to why he was doing that. Before you could ask though, he already gave an answer.
“You are so beautiful.”
Your faces were close, but far away enough to see every detail. You could see the look of adoration and as you scanned his eyes, you couldn't find a sliver of doubt or falseness to his statement. The only thing noticeable was his expression that changed to a sly smirk as he leaned a bit down to whisper in your ear. “And hot.”
“I’m beautiful and hot?” You raised an eyebrow suggestively.
“Mhm,” he leaned back and again, traced light circles on your lower back. “I don’t know if I want to tear off your pretty dress right now or take you to the finest restaurant in town. Perhaps both.”
“Is that a promise, Mr Walker?”
He simply stared into your soul and leaned down to try and kiss you. However, you placed a finger on his chest and had a smirk on your face, making his brows furrow in confusion.
“I’m sorry to inform you but I bought this dress just last week. Can't have you ruin it.”
"I'll do more than just ruin your dress." He concealed it as a joke but he was serious. You snorted and looked at you feet. "No but in all seriousness, I’ll buy you a new one.”
“As tempting as it sounds, I’d rather just shimmy out of it. We could go to a restaurant tomorrow though.”
He chuckled and put away a loose hair that fell in front of your face. “Orrrr, we could go to a restaurant every night so you never have to cook again.” You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and your lips were in a thin line as you stopped dancing.
“Kit.”
“Yes.”
“Are you insulting my cooking, again?”
“I wouldn't dare, miss. You make the best food in the entirety of Massachusetts.” He recited the words and you had a satisfying and proud smile.
“That’s what I like to hear.” 
He grabbed your hand and twirled you around, and as the song in the background came to the bridge, you went back to just slowly swaying to the music.
“By the way, I think you’re beautiful too.”
“I’m beautiful?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful.” he mused as he recalled the hundred times you have called him handsome in his head. 
“Now you have.”
He leaned down and kissed your forehead before you pressed your cheek against his chest again, his hand cradling your head. As your head was faced to the side, you saw the newspaper you read this afternoon lay on the little table next to the chair. 
“Oh by the way, I saw in the paper that tomorrow there will be shooting stars visible for us. Shall we go to the barn and watch em?” 
“I’d love too,” He smiled, but then remembered that the barn was 30 minutes away if you took the fastest route. Taking the fastest route also meant that you had to walk by Billy’s house. It made Kit remind him that he had to get rid of Billy and his obnoxious friends.
“What's wrong?” You saw the creases in his forehead as he frowned. It looked like he was thinking hard about something.
Kit contemplated whether or not to say it to you, but he figured you should know what was happening. “Billy showed up again.”
Your eyes immediately widened “Kit-”
“-I know what you’re thinking, but calling the cops isn't gonna help. They're just gonna brush it off like last time. Billy and his group haven't committed a crime."
You let out deep sigh and bit the inner sides of you cheek. Kit held your hands and again, rubbed soothing circles. "Maybe it's time I confront them."
Your head snapped up to meet his eyes. "What? No, that's dangerous you know how Billy is. He is as violent as he is stupid and he doesn't know what 2+2 is. 'Talking' to him is equivalent to a fist fight."
"Perhaps you're right, but I know Billy since high school. He wouldn't go that far," He didn't sound that sure of himself "The sooner they are out of our lives, the less worry we have on our plates. I know Billy works at his father's 5 and 10 store. I can pay him a visit after my own shift at the gasstation." He saw that you weren't buying it. "You hate confrontation as much as I do." You answered and Kit sighed.
"Billy is the ringleader, once I talk to him all the others will go away as well. They can’t keep bothering us, it has to stop. Clearly ignoring them isn't gonna help.” You continued to stare at him blankly before you looked away. You didn't like the idea one bit. However, Kit knew Billy and you didn't. Perhaps Kit was actually right. "Baby," Kit placed his finger on your chin and made you look at him again. "It makes me feel like I can't protect my own family."
You had a gnawing feeling in your gut. You didn't want to see him get hurt, but you knew he was capable of handling the situation by himself. You hated that the police were useless in this situation and so you cursed softly. “Okay, fine, but I will kick him so hard if Billy or another one of his loser friends lay a finger on you.”
“Y/n-”
“No Kit, I don’t want anything happening to you, I don’t want to ever see you get hurt. You’re too valuable to me.”
Kit knew that arguing wouldn't progress the conversation so he nodded. 
“Okay.” You were happy that Kit agreed, however just the thought of something going wrong and Kit getting bruised or worse clouded your mind. You didn’t notice it but your eyes were downcast on your feet and Kit placed a finger under your chin to lift your head up. “Hey, we’re still going to watch the stars tomorrow at the barn, I promise.”
His thumb brushed over your cheek and you held his wrists. “I better see you in one piece tomorrow unscathed, otherwise I’ll go to the barn myself.” You weren't actually gonna go to the barn on your own, especially at night. You just knew this was a way to make Kit extra careful. You knew he would never let you go in the dark alone. 
Just like you had predicted, Kit’s face fell into worry.
 ���Y/n, promise me you won’t go to the barn on your own.” He almost pleaded.
One time when he was held back at work and returned home at 2 am on a winter night. He nearly lost his shit when he saw there was a note on the fridge. It said you went to the barn to watch the stars, and you would be back at 1, however you were nowhere to be seen. Turned out you fell asleep on the hay, and Kit was so worried something had happened to you he nearly fainted.
“Alright,” you said and Kit felt like a but was coming “I won't go to the barn myself, as long as you promise me you’ll get home in one piece. No bruises or anything else.”
He knew he couldn't promise that. He knew the way billy’s mind worked. He was unpredictable and so he knew there could be a chance Billy would try and punch him. But there was also a chance that he would actually listen. It was a 50-50 chance.
Kit wanted to promise you that he wouldn't get hurt, but he just knew that he couldn't. He had always been honest with you about everything. He wasn’t gonna lie today.
“I promise I’ll try to avoid a fight.” He pledged and even though it wasn't the answer you wanted, you knew that it was all he could promise for now.
“Then I won’t go to the barn by myself.” 
He grabbed your shoulders firm but delicately. “Y/n,” he said in a very serious tone. “Promise you'll wait for me, okay? Promise.”
You nodded. "I'll wait for you” Kit seemed partly satisfied with the answer. 
“Promise?” 
“I’ll always wait for you. I promise." You solemnly swore.
Somehow it felt like he wasn't talking about the barn anymore.
“Speaking about promises…” You tried and you had a mischievous grin plastered on your face and you leaned closer as your hands were on his chest. Kit seemed to know what you were implying and chuckled whilst looking down at your lips. However when your mouth opened, he heard something different than what he expected to hear.
“Remember 3 years into our relationship you promised we’d get a barn on our own one day so we wouldn't have to walk that far to Benny’s barn? What about we start with that idea? In the next couple of weeks? Maybe we can get some animals. Maybe a dog or something.”
“That sounds like a lovely plan.” He leaned down and kissed you. “We’ll make that promise happen soon.”
“Alrighty.” You smiled.
Both Kit and you were still standing in the middle of the living room with the music still playing, and you just held him tight and hoped the song wouldn't end. 
Kit was again, close to your ear and whispered again. It wasn’t like there was anyone around you and he was afraid they would hear, he just felt like it was intimate. “When you brought up the promise thing I actually thought you meant the other promise I made”
You decided to act dumb. “Mhm, I don’t know what promise you’re talking about.”
His hands moved to your hips and he had a tight but delicate grip. “I’ll make you remember.” 
Before you could say anything, he cupped your cheek with his palms and pressed his lips against yours. Once he pushed you against the table, your hands moved under his shirt on his abdomen and you felt him tense and inhale deeply as your fingers trailed south. His hands were on your waist, and he encouraged you to jump so he could lift you up the table and stand between your legs.
As your hands moved to the back of his head, you gave a tug, earning a soft moan and you smiled amidst the kiss.
Kit wanted to stay in moments like these forever. Moments where he forgot that he was on earth. Because his lips against yours felt like a grace of heaven that only you could provide him.
However what he didn’t know was that this would be the last day where everything was like this; normal. Because just moments after you and him redressed yourselves while still feeling the aftermath of euphoria, his whole life was about to change.
He wasn’t going to see you again, for a very, very long time. 
present time
Kit stared at what looked like a black pit in the tiny cell he stayed in. The lights were out, his back was turned towards the door and his only company was a mosquito flying somewhere near him and the yelling from other patients who were next door.
He felt like he was in an infinite loop of mental and physical torture. The longer he was here, the less sane he started to feel. 
He tried to get a grasp on something stable, but nothing seemed to help him remember the good days. The only clear thing he remembered like it was yesterday, was the last day where everything felt normal. He replayed those moments over and over again whenever he was locked up in his small windowless room inside Briarcliff. He had closed his eyes and pictured your features whilst facing the gray concrete. 
He remembered kissing your cheek before heading off to work. He remembered singing and dancing to there goes my baby in the gas station. He remembered the douchebag guy who threw his money on the ground before Kit’s feet. He remembered how Billy and his friends stopped by and asked him to jump a guy who messed with Randy’s little sister. He remembered how they grabbed the gun from Al's safe. 
He remembered when he came home whistling the first thing he saw was your pretty dress, your red painted lips and the way your hair was perfectly styled. He remembered he couldn't take his gaze off of your eyes and how he fell in love with you every time he saw you.
He remembered dancing with you to the song he gifted you, and he remembered making love to you and the pretty sounds you made as you both longed for each other.
He remembered walking to the living room in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water when he saw a bright light from outside. He remembered running into your shared bedroom only to find you sound asleep and he remembered grabbing his shotgun and seeing something that could only exist in a sci-fi film.
He remembered the last look of pure horror on your face as he got dragged into a police car.
He remembered you.
But as the lonely nights passed and time seemed forgotten, he slipped away. He still remembered parts, but it often felt like your features were slipping from his mind. He was afraid that a day would come where he wouldn't be able to memorize what you looked like. He was afraid that a day would come where your voice was merely a whisper in his mind. He knew that if that day came, he was a gone man. Because the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that truly kept him on his feet was the thought that he might see you again. Even though he knew the chances were slim, as long as you were out there, he kept faith.
Deep down he knew that the love you bore for him didn't just evaporate the moment the police stood at the door. He knew that if the role was reversed, he’d wait for you. He was certain that he would wait forever without a second thought. The only thing he was uncertain about was if you thought the same.
Guess he was about to find out when his cell suddenly opened and light hit the room like rain falls and crashes from the sky.
The door made a cringe sound as it hit the concrete, and Kit turned his head only to be blinded by the light. He saw a man walk in and he tried to blink the black spots in his vision away as he identified the intruder.
“Sign here, and here.” With no explanation given, Kit raised an eyebrow and once he saw clearly, he recognized the orderly as Owen, the prick who beat him on one of the first days when Kit was lost in the massive building. Kit also recalled Owen punching him when another patient attacked him.
Owen looked dead inside.
“What for?” Kit had asked.
“Your release papers, they’re letting you out Kit.” Owen had the most casual tone as if he just explained what he had for breakfast, and Kit couldn’t help but frown as he reluctantly grabbed the form.
“Thredson, they caught him? Lana gave them the tape?”
“Yeah, and she did one better. She blew his head off. It’s all over the papers. Reporters are hanging off the rafters, trying to sniff out the corruption at Briarcliff. That’s why you’re suddenly a free man.”
Kit wasn’t fond of Owen, and he couldn’t help but clench his jaw despite the news he just gave.
Owen threw a package on the small and thin mattress they called a ‘bed’ and crossed his arms. “Clothes from the Salvation Army, they should fit you. Just leave what you’re wearing on the bed.” Kit stared long and hard at Owen to see if he could find any hint of a joke, but strangely Kit found none. Lana had actually done it. She had exposed Thredson and freed Kit from living a long life of repetitive horror and possibly the electric chair.
Kit was handed a pen and he signed the papers, a look of confusion mixed with shock still painted on his face. He was still comprehending what had just happened. After god knows how long in Briarcliff, suddenly he was just a free man. With one sign on a paper he was allowed to leave. It felt surreal.
As he stood up, it felt like the gravity of the situation finally reached his mind. He was going to see you again. 
He was actually going to see you again after all these months, perhaps years for all he knew, and he didn't know how to feel about it. 50% just wanted to crawl into your arms and stay there for the rest of his life, but the other 50% was scared that you didn't want anything to do with him anymore. He was afraid you had moved on and forgotten about him.
The reality was something entirely different though. At the same time when Kit signed the release papers, you were sitting in the chair where you usually read the paper or a book. A cigarette was between your lips and there were dark circles under your eyes as you stared at the blank wall.
Smoking made you a lot calmer. 
Calm was something that you needed since everything in the house reminded you of Kit. The piano in the corner reminded you of him playing several songs for you to cheer you up when you were sick or sad. The large space in the living room reminded you of the countless times you had slowly danced to the most romantic songs. Hell, even the small hole in the wall reminded you of the time where you pinched Kit in the side after he had tickled you mercilessly. The little hole in the wall was created when the little stone in Kit’s wedding ring bumped into it.
The song Kit had gifted you on the last day everything was still normal, was playing in the background and you couldn’t help but go back in time to the last night you saw him. Almost every day you thought about it. Oh how you wished you could reverse time.
“Pretty woman, don’t walk away. Hey, okay. If that’s the way it must be, okay. I guess I’ll go home, it’s late. There’ll be tomorrow night, wait, what do I see? Is she walking back to me? Yeah she’s walking back to me. Oh, pretty woman.”
You sang along softly, the lyrics tattooed in your brain from replaying it over and over again the last couple of months.
As you leaned back in the chair, you wondered what you were doing with your life. Your husband was in an insane asylum, waiting to be labeled insane or sane. The former would make him a prisoner forever and the latter would make him a prisoner in the afterlife. You could do nothing to have an impact on the horrible outcomes. All you could do was wait in agony.
You tried to keep that thought in the back of your mind, and you sat there for what felt like hours. As you were ready to fall asleep due to the sleep deprivation, you heard keys jingle from outside.
You thought it was just in your head, but as the door creaked open, you suddenly became alert. The shotgun was next to the chair you were sitting in, and in a swift move you snatched it and whipped it at the person at the door.
When you saw his face however, your heart stopped. You dropped the item to the ground.
There he stood, in an outfit you didn’t recognize, wearing a face you did recognize. He had an expression that read multiple emotions, and you felt like everything around you was surreal. He had a melancholic smile and the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he was tired. His golden brown hair was longer than it was when he left, and the sparkle in his eyes didn't hold the same mischievous glimmer. he had before 
Every object in your house that fascinated you before didn't matter anymore. All that mattered now was him. All you saw was him, and it took only a few seconds to render what was truly happening.
You ran towards him and let out a cry of joy. You almost tackled him to the ground and held his body tightly against yours as you buried your face in his neck. His arms wrapped around your frame.
Kit would be afraid to crush your body in his arms, were he not weak at the moment. He had to relish the feeling of your body warmth, the way you smelled, the way your body fit perfectly in his arms. He had fantasized every night of just holding you. And now that he’s finally got that fantasy, he couldn't let go. He had to know that you were real. 
He was afraid that if he would close his eyes or let go, that you would be gone. No, he wanted to see every inch of you, feel every part of you that indicated that you were actually there.
When you took a second to look at his face, your already broken heart doubled its broken pieces and you let out a sob.
“What have they done to you?” you let out in a whisper as Kit had teary eyes. 
“Your face,” you gasped and your thumb ran across his bottom lip where a small slit was visible, however that wasn't the only gash you spotted. “What have they done to you, baby?”
At this point you were crying. All these months of worry broke you, and even after having him in your arms again, it felt like you didn't have him back. You wanted to be happy with him. You wanted to show him how much you had missed him, you wanted to show him how much you loved him.
The silence that overtook the room as your mind processed everything was was long gone when everything became clear. 
You pressed your forehead against his and Kit trembled. “It’s not me.” he whispered and you knitted your eyebrows together.
“I know, baby. I know it’s not you. I have always known you were innocent.” Kit felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and at that moment he just broke.
He held you tighter and sobbed in your neck as your shirt was getting stained by his tears. He was glass and your words had shattered him. Every doubt he had about you not believing him was all a lie he made up in his head.
He wanted to hold himself together, but all the exhaustion and pain was overwhelming and he just couldn’t bear it anymore.
“You waited.” he breathed. 
“I promised, didn’t I?”
You had never seen him this vulnerable before. Yes, he had moments where he needed you just like you needed him, but it had never been this much before.
He looked like he had died and had been resurrected. He looked like a zombie, yet you couldn't help but smile through the tears when you noticed his familiar grin slowly appear on his face as he stared at you. 
His smile was like glue that fixed your broken state in a second. Just the familiarity of his features that reminded you of his past self. It gave you the sense of normalcy you usually felt when he came home after a long day of work, kissing your cheek and eating the meal you made him with passion.
Pretty woman was still playing somewhere in the background and after what felt like hours of standing there, you took Kit to the bathroom to clean him up.
There were no words said. In truth, no words in the encyclopedia were right at the moment.
You had both slipped out of your clothing and had stood under the shower for a long time, letting the water shower all your bad thoughts away. You noticed he had cuts on his arms, and you kissed every single one of them.
Once you got to the bedroom Kit scanned around. He never thought he would be in this room ever again. He never thought he would be with you again. He finally realized that he was actually home. He was safe.
As much as he wanted to stay awake and talk to you about everything he missed, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. 
You were at his side and whispered softly as you stroke your hand over his cheek. His face expressed calmness, and you wished whatever he dreamed about was something graceful. “In this world, it’s just us. It’s not the same as it was. But it’s you and me darling. It’ll always be you and me.” You knew it will never be the same as it used to be. But as long as you had each other, things will be alright.
Your love could fight anything.
-
It had been a few days since he had arrived at your doorstep and you felt numb. Yes, you were beyond grateful that you had Kit back, but he just wasn’t the same. You knew that, but you still hoped that Kit would open up to you. He did answer your questions when you were curious, however you didn’t want to push it. You didn't want to pry because you didn’t want to evoke memories of that place when he just found the comfort of home. But you just wished that he could share the pain with you so he wouldn't have the feeling of being alone.
“Dinner is ready.” you said and you placed two plates on the dining table. Kit was on the couch and he walked over to you. “I made your favorite, lasagna.”
Kit smiled and he took a seat at the table. As much as Kit wanted to act like nothing happened, you could see that he was a lot more quiet than ever. He tried to hold himself together for you every second he spent with you, but you saw through him.
Kit didn't say anything as he took a bite, and you watched him as he continued eating at a rapid pace. He closed his eyes while moaning, and quietness overtook the room once again. 
To break the silence, you put down your fork. “I made it with extra cheese, just how you like it.”
“You know me so well.” 
He continued eating and swallowed every bit of food that was left on the plate. You simply watched him as you took small bites yourself.
Once you both were done eating, you felt like now was the right time to show him your gift. You had wanted to show him since the moment you saw him but you hadn't really found a good moment.
“I have something for you.” Kit looked at you with curious eyes.
“Really?” he was intrigued. 
“Come.” You stood up and grabbed Kit’s hand, leading him to the door that led to the backyard. As you opened the door and walked outside, it was already starting to get dark. The trees and grass were softly lit by the moonlight and when you walked the path down the little creek, you stopped.
Right in front of you was a barn. It was placed on the flat ground in your backyard, and you heard Kit let out a small gasp. 
“To make new memories in.” You eyed Kit’s gaze and it looked like he was mesmerized.
“Y/n… it looks amazing.” 
You yourself were also still looking in amazement every time you saw the creation. “Caleb and Janet helped me. I’ve been going to the barn myself every to watch the stars. I just lay on the hay or the roof and think about all the things I'm thankful for.” You grabbed his hand and stood in front of him as you let out a deep sigh.
“I want you to know that I’ve never given up on you, on us. I know that what you’ve gone through was horrible, but know that I love you. I love everything about you. And I know that it’ll take a while to be fully comfortable in our home again, but we have all the time in the world to heal. I will wait until you’re ready and together we'll get through this.” Kit’s gaze diverted from the barn to your face and after a while he gently laid his hands on your cheek. Your hand moved to his wrist to hold him and you sighed longingly when you instantly felt warm when his skin touched yours. His touch was like the sun shining brightly in the February sky.
“I wouldn’t have survived without you.” he suddenly started and his thumb brushed the skin under your eye. “You were the only thing that's worth fighting for. If I didn’t have you, I would have given up," he paused for a moment before staring into the darkness behind you. It looked as if that evoked something in him, and you could see him clench his jaw.
"The past few days everything feels safe when I'm with you. You're my anchor, you're my hope. Every time I have you in my arms it feels like everything is going to be alright. At day everything is fine, but at night it feels like the darkness swallows me whole," Kit had to gather himself to speak further "In my dreams I’m back at that place, I'm in a long hallway and I see you on the other side. I call out for you, I reach for you and you look at me like you can't see me. I'm running and running towards you to try and reach you, but as it feels like I'm getting close, I get pulled back and you slip away. It's a never ending cycle and no matter what I do, no matter how hard I run, you're fading and getting further and further away.” You gave his hand a small squeeze for support. 
He indeed had nightmares the last couple of days. Well, actually that isn't the right term to describe it. He had night terrors. Sometimes he screamed himself awake at night, looking confused around him as he expected to still be in Briarcliff as he was held down. In reality, you were calming him down by holding him your arms and telling him it was alright, that he didn't have to be afraid anymore. He would gradually calm down when he placed his head on your chest and would eventually fall asleep to your soft and sweet whispers.
"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere." You moved closer to him and held his hand. His touch made his gaze divert from the black abyss towards you. Your sweet eyes pulled him back, your touch made him feel like he wasn't alone again.
You could never understand what he had gone through. You could never understand the levels of pain he had to endure, the feeling of drowning in an endless well of despair. But you were willing to listen and console. You were willing to do anything to never make him feel like that again.
“It’s over,” you whispered. “It’s time to heal. It’s time to let go.”
“I don't know if I can.”
“That’s okay,” you went through Kit’s hair and planted a kiss on his cheek. “We take little steps, it might take a while, but we have forever in the future. As long as you have me, you don't have to suffer alone.”
He was like a vase that had broken into thousands of pieces. Shattered beyond repair. It felt like his mind was decaying from the torture he endured.
"The things they did to me, the things they did to the others-"
“-You don't have to share that chapter with me yet if you're not ready."
He was silent before he whispered. “I want to.”
He cleared his throat and after a few minutes of gathering his thoughts, he started talking while the moonlight shone on his face.
You listened to every single word he said, and when you had said you couldn't imagine the things he’d gone through, you were far from reality. What Kit described was so morbid that your hand flew to your mouth as you gasped multiple times during his storytelling.
He had explained everything from the beginning to the end. It honestly felt like fiction, but it was a real American horror story.
You felt tears escape your eyes once again when Kit started to describe in detail what he knew. From the missing patients who were being experimented on, to doctor Thredson who was in fact the real Bloody face who carved those poor girls.
Kit's voice faltered and he couldn't seem to speak about it more.
“Give your pain to me. You hang onto me, like your life depends on it. I will help you heal again.”
He let out a soft sob to that and slowly nodded.
"I knew that if the day came where I would be the one to give into the mercy of death, the last thing I'd see before I'd leave this world would be you dancing and twirling carelessly to our song. I would have been ready to die, knowing that my last thought would be you. That's why the last night I saw you kept replaying in my mind. Everyday and everynight. "
When he mentioned that night, you got a melancholic feeling. It was the last time you two had no worries in your mind. The last time where you truly frlt like everything was normal. The only thing that felt horrible at the time was the thought of Kit confronting Billy and the thought of Kit ripping your dress.
"We made a lot of promises that night, but we never got to watch the shooting stars." You smiled at the memory and laughed genuinely for what seemed like the first time in a long time. "We can now."
You looked at him with curious eyes. "What?"
Kit gave an answer by grabbing your hand and leading you to the barn. Once you were inside, Kit looked around him and the dim lights that looked romantic. You had put them there because you had almost fallen from the stairs due to the bad sight.
You both walked to the stairs that led to the second floor. Once you were there, there was a big, open window where you two could climb out of to get to the roof.
"You built this? with little help?" He stared at you in amazement.
"What can I say, I'm quite a handy woman."
Kit smiled at how passionate and determined you were at everything. "I won the lottery of a woman."
You hid your blush by climbing out the window and placed your foot on the sturdy ledge, pushing all your weight onto your leg and grabbing a hold onto the roof. Once you safely laid on the diagonal plattform, you encouraged Kit to come as well.
You watched as Kit maneuvred on the ledge and as soon as his back his the roof, he panted a bit before he looked to his side, his eyes focussed on your side profile.
He struggled a bit due to the unfamiliarity of the structure, "If I fell to death when I literally survived the hells of Briarcliff, I would have been so pissed as a ghost."
You let out a snort that was followed by a laugh. There it was, there was the sign of Kit Walker actually coming back. That was the Kit who always made the best out of a shitty situation, the Kit who charmed you from the moment you met him at Benny's barn 6 years ago. The Kit who would do anything to protect his family. The Kit who you fell in love with 6 years ago.
Kit had joined laughing with you and you placed your head on his chest, feeling the vibrations of his chuckles through your body. Kit had always said that your laugh was contagious. Whenever you would laugh, Kit would automatically join you.
It was cheesy, and it felt like you were two teenagers in love again.
After your laughter died, you looked at the sky with a grin on your face. You were genuinely happy to be with him like this again.
"Y/n," Kit suddenly began "Can I ask you something?"
"Mhm?" You were looking at the tiny glimmers in the sky that were called stars.
“Had Billy bothered you when I was gone?” You looked at him when he mentioned the name you hadn't heard in months, and you thought about the last time you saw Billy, which was once in the pharmacy just 2 weeks after Kit was gone.
“No. He thinks I’m crazy for defending my husband who had been admitted to an insane asylum. He glared at me once when I walked into the pharmacy, but he didn't dare talk to me or come close to me. Him and his gang will leave us alone from now on, I'm sure of it.”
Kit hummed at that, and together you looked back at the sky again. That was one less problem to deal with. Kit found it comical that one big problem solved smaller problems.
There wasn't a single cloud in your view, and you held Kit's hand as you watched infinity amount of stars. After about 10 minutes, you both jerked your hands and pointed at the same thing in the sky. A shooting star!" You exclaimed and you were excited. The first and last time you saw a shooting star was the day you first met Kit. The entire group was getting stoned in the barn whilst you and Kit were on the roof. You were holding a competition who could count the most shooting stars. It had been sort of a thing between the two of you. Once in a while on date night you would just stargaze.
"Now we can both make a wish."
You closed your eyes and after a few seconds, you had made your wish.
"What did you wish for?" Kit asked, and you contemplated whether or not to tell him. After several seconds of worry that the wish won't come true if you were to tell him, you decided that that rule was bullshit.
"Kit."
"Yeah?"
"Remember all the promises we made the last time we saw each other?" "Yeah."
"Every promise was held, except for one. My wish is that the last promise we made becomes reality as well."
"What is it?"
Your cheeks hurt from smiling and Kit saw a glimmer in your eyes.
“Do you want to get a dog?”
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lazycats-stuff · 8 months
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hi i got a request lol this is like my first time asking so i’m embarrassed☠️ but i was wondering if you could write something with a Spider-Man!anti-hero!reader and he’s in some fight with Red Hood, but they’re fighting near another fight where poison ivy’s fighting off some cops cuz she’s trynna escape from arkham and some of her aphrodisiacs/pheromone power from the plants get too close to where reader and red r fighting so they get intoxicated with it and yknow..also leading to some hate fucking. also with the added spinnerrette kink(that was RLLY embarrassing to write i’m so sorry if that sounds like a lot😭) but tysm !!
No need to feel embarrassed, I'm not judging. We are all friends here. I also got your elaboration so I will include that kink. Alright, lets get to writing!
Summary: Jason and (Y/N) are at each others throats. Ivy escapes and sex pheromones get in the air. Jason and (Y/N) fuck.
Warnings: hate sex, sex pheromones, top Jason, bottom reader, violence, Ivy escaping, cursing, again SMUT, I don't know if I wrote hate sex... The author is tired.
Also, this is such a good gif... Holy shit..., Also, (C/D) = code name
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When (C/N) came onto Gotham scene, Jason was the first one to go after him. There was something about (C/D) that Jason hated and Bruce always tried to make sure that any type of confrontation between is made to be bare minimum. Also, Jason didn't like the fact that he was a Spiderman and not as funny as the OG one.
One particular night changed everything between Red Hood and (C/N). Gotham was in complete chaos because the big names in Gotham decided to make chaos and make their lives living hell. That night it was each man for himself.
Jason was tasked to stop Poison Ivy from breaking out of the prison, but he was distracted by seeing (C/N). All of a sudden, he saw red and started running towards (C/N). He took his gun out and started shooting at (C/N).
Of course, (C/N) or (Y/N) if you will, sensed it coming. He dodged every single bullet and Jason was just ready to kill him. He jumped at (Y/N), using everything in him to land a punch. Both of them were fighting, not noticing the Poison Ivy fighting the cops. When a building started shaking, Jason and (Y/N) were thrown off of the building.
They landed onto the prison roof top, where Poison Ivy was. She looked at the two heroes, before smirking. Jason wondered what the hell she was thinking, before he realized. She was going to release something now.
" Ivy, don't do it. Whatever you are thinking, don't do it. Don't make me hate you. " Jason said, going for his gun.
" Sorry Hood, but I can't. I need to escape. " She said and all of a sudden, air was filled with some sort of green gas and Jason choked on it.
He felt hot and his blood went south, all the way down to his dick. What in God's name is happening to him? And what in God's name is this gas doing to him? Oh God, this is sex pollen.
Jason coughed, before taking his helmet off. He took deep breaths to calm himself. Poison Ivy was gone with the wind and it was just (Y/N) and Jason. (Y/N) wasn't doing much better either. He was blushing beneath his mask and he felt that all the blood went south.
Both of them locked eyes with one another and despite not seeing each other's eyes, both could tell that their pupils were blown.
" Okay, " Jason started. He knew it was a bad idea, but if you were hit with sex pollen, masturbation won't do it. " I know a place a couple of blocks nearby, enough privacy for us to get this out. " Jason said, hands shaking from the surge of energy and self control.
" Lead the way. "
Jason never ran so fast in his life. The place in question was an old safe house that was scratched because it was made by Penguin, but God, it was closest place with some sort of privacy. And that's why Jason had (Y/N) hoisted up on the wall, holding his thighs and kissing him like a wild animal.
Jason felt (Y/N) pulling his hair and he moaned. Is he into pain? Well, that will be another plan soon. He took (Y/N) and threw him onto a single mattress in the room.
He took his jacket off quickly and (Y/N) took his own shirt off. " Are you sure? " Jason asked, huffing, legs twitching. My God. He looked at (Y/N)'s body. The defined abs, soft skin... Oh no, what is this pollen making him think?
" I do, now get to it. " (Y/N) said, clearly wanting to get to it. Jason shed his clothes and weapons before leaning down to kiss (Y/N) more animalistically, fueled by the pollen. He reached for (Y/N)'s wrists, wanting to put them above his head. (Y/N) shuddered and let out a breathier moan. Jason raised his eyebrows, before massaging his wrists.
(Y/N) moaned louder, his hips raising and his member brushing against Jason's boxer's. " What's up with your wrists? " Jason asked, looking at them. He saw small holes on (Y/N)'s wrists.
" It's a place where my web comes out and it's... Well, if you mess with it and massage it, it turns into a huge arousal spot. " (Y/N) breathed out, looking away from Jason. Jason smirked, seeing a way how to mess with (Y/N) a bit.
He massaged the wrists more, making (Y/N) louder moans. He squirmed beneath Jason, trying to get more friction. " Interesting... Good to know. "
Jason released (Y/N)'s wrists and moved his hands down (Y/N)'s hips. He hooked his fingers beneath (Y/N)'s boxers and removed them. (Y/N) was rock hard, with some precum dribbling down. Jason took his member into his hand and started stroking him.
(Y/N) choked on air as Jason started stroking him. When Jason stopped, (Y/N) whined, actually whined. That sound made Jason way more harder.
Jason moved away, knowing that there is lube on the shelf. Why and how? He smirked at the sight of the lube packet. He took it and took his boxers off. He tore it and spread some on his fingers, leaving some for his dick.
He warmed it up before pushing two fingers in. (Y/N) tensed, but relaxed a second later. Jason pushed them deeper, searching for the prostate. He knew he found it when (Y/N) gasped and his dick twitched.
" I think you are ready. " Jason said, coating his dick in left over lube. He grabbed the under side of the knees, moving them out of the way. He pushed in slowly, watching (Y/N)'s face for any signs of discomfort.
Despite hating him, Jason didn't want to give him trauma related to sex. That was the last thing that he wanted.
" Oh shit- " (Y/N) said, biting his lip. Jason let out a breath, trying to adjust. After a few moments, Jason started moving. He had to lean down to lean on his elbows. His thrusts got faster and more erratic. (Y/N) was shaking beneath Jason, whimpering in pleasure.
They both came quickly, but it wasn't enough. Jason pulled out, making (Y/N) whine.
" On your hands and knees. " Jason said, pupils widening even more at the sight of (Y/N) on his hands and knees. He pushed back in, grabbing (Y/N) hips to get some leverage. Both Jason and (Y/N) are hitting overstimulation, but they couldn't get enough.
After 3 more rounds, they collapsed next to each other. Jason's body was aching and (Y/N) was on the verge of sleep. Jason stood up, putting his boxers on, moving to get a rag. Using one of the leftover water bottles, he wet the rag. He moved back to wipe sweat from (Y/N).
" I thought you hated me. " (Y/N) said tiredly, trying to get up.
" I do, but aftercare is important. " Jason said curtly, wiping down (Y/N)'s body. He handed him a water bottler too, allowing him to rehydrate.
" Also, this doesn't change anything between us. I still hate you. " Jason explained, taking the water and wiping it before drinking himself.
" I know that. " (Y/N) said, stretching his arms. " Is it alright if I stay here for the night? I don't have strength to swing back. " (Y/N) said, moving to get his boxers. Thankfully he didn't had to move far.
" Good. I don't think that Batman will want to find you here. " Jason said, already dressed and ready to go.
" Well, I don't want to find him either. I can only hope that you won't tip him off. "
" Well, I may hate you, but I don't hate you that much. " Jason said, putting his helmet on. " And if I hear anything about our... Encounter anywhere, I'm going to kill you. " Jason said.
" I know you will. " (Y/N) said, turning on his side.
Jason left without a single glance towards (Y/N). He stepped out. It was still dark out and it was something that Jason was thankful for. Although, he was thankful when he heard his comms firing up.
" Jason where were you? We were trying to reach you, but they were offline. " He heard Bruce say in his ear.
" Don't worry about me old man. Poison Ivy just knocked me out. "
" I could see something is wrong when I had to go get her. She just told me you were going to be unavailable. " Bruce said.
Jason swallowed, feeling nervous. He could only hope that Poison Ivy didn't tell Bruce what gas she gave him. " Either way Jason, get back to the manor, all the criminals are in the GCPD, waiting transfer to Blackgate. "
" I will be back soon. " Jason said, cutting the communication. Bruce and the rest of the family can't know what happened between him and (Y/N).
They can't.
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intimacyequalsdeath · 6 months
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Bubz's Slasher Fictober: Day 2 Thomas Hewitt (Apple Cider)
Welcome to day 2! I hope you all enjoyed day one and as previously probably assumed this one will be going up on October 2nd.
Notes: Minors DNI, Gender Neutral Reader, No specific pronouns used except "You"
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It had been nearly 2 years since you had found yourself at the Hewitt farm, When the small town had gone to hell after the meat packing plant shut down Luda Mae knowing you had nowhere to go offered to let you stay with her and her sons Tommy and Charlie or as he demanded to be called Hoytt and uncle Monty.
A year after you had found yourself at the farm was when the family decided to start looking at more "Unethical" ways of putting food on the table. Luda took you aside and explained to you why this was something that was in the best interest of the family, especially Tommy.
You fell into the ways of the family rather quick. Your role was the friendly face that would lure unsuspecting travelers back to the house where Tommy and Hoytt would be waiting to put meat on the table. This went on for many months like clock work every time someone would role into town. Until one was too smart for your liking.
The day started off as any, You left the Hewitt house and went down to the gas station to man your post. It was about noon when a car containing only one man pulled up, you watched from behind the counter over top of your magazine as he got out and entered the station.
"Well hello their darlin'" The man greeted. You held back an eyeroll at the flirting.
"Hi there! Can I help you sir?" You turned on your best customer service voice. The mans smile widened.
"Well now that you mention it, My car started to give me some trouble about a mile or so back and I was wonderin' if you had anyone here who could look at it?" He asked, Bingo you thought.
"Yes! actually my uncle back at the house can look at it, if you want I can point you in the right direction?" You saw the strangers face hardened for a moment before softening again.
"That would be good darlin', thank you" He said, You shot him a fake smile as you rounded the corner of the register counter to follow him outside. You were in front of him almost to his car when you heard a familiar sound behind you, you turned to look back at him and noticed the gun immediately.
"Now darlin' if you cooperate with me nicely and help me out no one's gonna get hurt ok?" Stiff with shock you willed your head to nod. He motioned for you to climb into his car and you followed willingly. Even though he had the upper hand you knew who was waiting back at the house for you so you gladly led the unsuspecting fool back to the Hewitt house.
You knew uncle Monty was probably asleep in his room while some old movie blared on his tv, and Luda Mae was out for the day visiting her friend the tea lady so all you had to worry about was Hoytt and Tommy. You lead the man up the old porch stairs as he held the gun to you, You made sure to knock on the door 3 times before opening. It was the code you had made to alert the family of danger and you knew Hoytt and Tommy were jumping into action.
"You know it's not to late to change your mind on this" You spoke to the man as you stood in the kitchen with him still standing behind you. He scoffed.
"And why would I do that?" The man sneered, you could feel barrel of the gun pressing into the back of your skull.
"Because if you don't, you're going to regret it" You said matter of fact as the kitchen was suddenly overtaken by the sound of a chainsaw revving up.
When Thomas burst through the old kitchen door the man was too shocked to move the gun quick enough. The chainsaw came down on his arm holding the gun as you quickly side stepped out of the way but not before grabbing the gun from the man.
He screamed and swore at Thomas, not that much could be heard over the chainsaw.
The chainsaw came down once more this time on the man's chest, silencing him for good. Once the man slumped into a pile on the kitchen floor the chainsaw was turned off.
You turned to Thomas and smiled up at the behemoth of a man.
"Thank you darling, You're so good at keeping me safe" You praised knowing Tommy would eat it up. You saw his eyes lighten through his mask as his free hand came up to caress your cheek, the nervousness of him possibly losing you slowly leaving his body.
"Goddammit boy! Look at the mess you made of the kitchen!" The moment was interrupted by Hoytt finally stepping in to see what the commotion was, he looked at the two of you.
"You damn kids better have this shit cleaned up and spotless before mama gets home! You know how she hates her kitchen messy" he said grabbing a beer from the fridge then heading back into the living room. You rolled your eyed and groaned.
"He's right for once Thomas, We don't need to let mama see this" Thomas nodded and set the chainsaw on the table, Looks like you and Thomas would have to wait till after dinner.
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anundyingfidelity · 11 days
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I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part III)
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Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.
Word count: 2.2k.
Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.
Warnings on this chapter: panic attack, killing threats, violence, Ben my poor meowmeow, hurt/comfort, mentions of rape.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
Notes: this is mostly a bonding chapter between Ben and the reader, also there's more about the reader's past in here plus a special guest lmao. I'm having too much fun writing this! If anyone would like to be tagged I'll be more than happy to do so! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.
this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak
GEN MASTERLIST!
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Part III: Afraid of the Fall
Ben felt his head being hammered and strange voices in a foreign language mumbled to him, all while they laughed and mocked his suffering, causing loud screams and groans of pain falling off his mouth. He struggled, feeling his skin burning again and again. He hoped it stopped, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, but things didn't get better.
Far away, he heard a familiar voice, shouting to get inside. But he couldn't move from his place to reach it. He groaned again, grabbing the sides of his head strongly and covering his ears, elbows on his knees, at the same time he felt a fire forming on his chest. It was happening again. He didn't want to do it. He couldn't do it. He had been trying to control himself with the reefer the past few days. Why now? Why here? He thought he might lose control over himself one more time, and it scared him to death.
There was a loud sound of metal and high heels running towards him, until someone dropped in front of him.
"Ben?"
He barely recognized your voice, but he felt your hands running all over his cheeks, until he opened his tired eyes.
"Ben, you're fine, okay? You're safe here," he took in your gentle voice as you knelt in front of him. He saw you observing his chest and the blast forming in there. "Please, you can control yourself. Look at me, breathe."
He moaned in pain again, closing his eyes shut. He was holding back as much as his strength allowed him, but it wasn't working. Your worried eyes locked when he opened his own again, green and teary.
"Please just breathe. Inhale and exhale," you said, mimicking the directions as he tried to steady his breath following you.
"That's it, go on," you repeated, encouraging him to keep doing the same. "Take my hands, here," he felt your palms embracing his rough hands, his grip hard on your soft ones. "Keep breathing."
The explosion on his chest was still there but as you soothed him with your voice, he eventually felt as the burn dissipated little by little.
"You're safe now, nothing's gonna happen," you mumbled. "Breathe."
Ben took in your whispering voice, until the burn stopped. You remained there with him, hands together, as he opened his eyes anew. He found a comforting smile on your lips, but as soon as he scanned the room he found two men standing in the doorway. Armed and pointing at him, ready to shoot him. He looked between you and the men, and abruptly got on his feet, shoving you away with such force. You landed over your ass on the floor just a couple of steps away from him. The guards aimed their guns immediately.
"Don't!" you ordered.
"Doctor, he was about to blast," said one of them.
"Stop it!" you raised your hands, with glossy eyes and lungs out of air. "Please, leave," you pleaded. Ben remained in the same spot, figuring out if he had to fight you and the men. 
"Doc, the gas-"
"Leave now!" you shouted. They hesitated. "I can handle this, just go and don't turn on the gas, that's an order."
Your gaze might've worked because they slowly backed up and left, closing the heavy door and leaving you alone with the supe. He looked at you, breathing steady and an outraged face. You stood up, fists tight, as Ben closed the distance between both of you.
"Ben, I'm so sorry-"
You choked on your own words, his hand grabbing your neck with his tight grip. "Don't fucking tell me I'm safe. You've built a chamber that'd kill me while I sleep," he growled. Your hands took on his wrists.
Ben just held you in place, denying oxygen into your lungs. He was fucking mad at how you decided to play with him and his life. All these days, he had the chance to end you and that fucking building, and he didn't do it. He felt like a fucking idiot. He had to finish this now. Suddenly, he loosened the rough grip around your throat and slammed you harshly, until your back hit the hardwood of the coffee table.
You coughed as you tried to lift yourself to a sitting position, the mess of the broken wooden lying underneath.
"Ben," you gasped looking up at him. "It's okay if you want to kill me. I'm only asking you to think twice because I'll be dead but it'll be worse for you."
How could it be? Ben couldn't take a fucking break without knowing the damn gas could be turned on if any of those cocksuckers, you included, wanted to. He was beyond pissed. Over and over, he became surrounded by traitors, people who didn't give a single shit about him. And now, he just wanted to rip your head off, kill everyone inside, and run away. Yet somehow he couldn't. With brows furrowed and a cold expression on his face, he watched your figure on the floor, vulnerable and aching due to the impact, at his cruel mercy. But his body wouldn't move an inch to get to you.
Slowly you got on your feet again and for a moment that felt eternal, you looked at each other. Ben was just waiting for the rage to flourish and do what he had to since he met you in that fucking office. He had to kill everyone when they took him out of that box. Too sad he couldn't go back to the past and change his decisions.
You held his haze, and all of the sudden you stepped forward wrapping your arms around his muscular waist. He was shocked.
"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry," you whispered, hiding your face on his chest.
Ben felt your warmth against his flesh, but he couldn't do more than stay frozen in the middle of the room. The only physical contact he had felt for a long time was for the purpose of torture, pain, and suffering. A hug felt strangely uncomfortable to him. More so after he was the one ready to kill everyone around, starting with you. You must have noticed the stiffness on his body because you slowly backed up and separated from him.
He gave you a confused look and you started to speak softly again.
"I can leave if you want-"
His voice came barely as a whisper. "No."
You nodded, locking your eyes with his own. "Okay. You want to talk?"
"I don't know," he said softly.
Calmly, you asked him to sit on the edge of the bed and Ben soon followed as you did. His eyes were lost in the room and he felt regretful for what he did to you. Anyone in your place would just have left and ran away. He'd be alone, just like he had in the past decades. But you didn't. You were there by his side because you wanted to help him. At least that's what you said.
"I had a nightmare," he began. "It felt so real."
"I'm here, you can let it out," you reassured. Ben felt your eyes on him, but he wasn't strong enough to see your face, so he focused on the wall on the other side of the room.
"I was there... Again. I thought I was there, and thought I was going to blow up everything. Haven't felt this pain since you brought me here, until today," Ben mumbled. "I don't know what happened. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"There's nothing wrong with you," you replied once he finished. "You're not a bad person."
"I could've killed you," his words sounded like a fear confession.
But he didn't have any idea of why he would care that much for a stranger like you. He harmed you, and still here you were. It was almost as if you were not scared of him, the atrocities he had done and the ones he could do in the future.
"But you didn't, so don't torture yourself with things that are not real."
He believed you were right. At the same time, it was difficult to push those thoughts away.
"I'm a fucking mess," he said, his eyes locked on his lap as he played with his hands like he was a child. "My father was right."
"Ben-"
"I could've done so much better with him."
"Who?"
"Homelander."
This time, he found your intense gaze. You shook your head.
"You didn't know what Vought was up to. That is not your fault."
"But he is my son in the end," Ben grumbled. "And he has a fucking son of his own."
"A lab experiment," you corrected. "A lab experiment that has a child, product of a rape. You don't have to call that your blood."
He gave a sad smile that quickly disappeared. "I wish I didn't have to. I always wanted kids. Y'know, give them the figure I never had, let them know I'm proud of them, tell them they mean everything to me... Be a better father. And I feel guilty for no reason."
You nodded. "I understand all that, and you'll get over the generational trauma and the PTSD. I promise. Just remember before you run, you need to learn how to walk."
A part of his heart refused to believe your words, that you were lying, but the look in your eyes said otherwise. Probably you were not as bad as he thought you'd be. After all, you were there. You had the courage to step in front of him, to be in the same room as him, and to come every day just in hope to have some sort of advance even when he was pushing his pain away. All those efforts and insistences, they had to mean something in the end. Right?
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Last couple of days were hell. You caught something good though. Soldier Boy finally talked to you. Just a little. Anything was fine at this point. For you, work didn't stop. Rest was not an option most of the time. So on Sunday morning you drove back to your apartment after spending the whole Saturday working on more details about the Anti-V prototype.
Once in the building, you made your usual way to your door and immediately got rid of your coat and shoes in the entry hall. You were so tired and craving for a sleep, so you made your way to your bedroom, until a horribly annoying voice you knew too well stopped you on the doorframe.
"Well, don't you work your ass off," the blonde man swung into your room in his usual ridiculous outfit, admiring every detail of the place. He gave you a disturbingly disgusting smile.
You also noticed the balcony windows and curtains were open. Of fucking course he'd used the easiest way to break into your home.
"What-"
"Oh, you know who I am, doctor. I can break the president's home if I want to," Homelander beamed when he stopped just inches from you.
You gulped and crossed your arms on your chest.
"And may I ask why are you here?"
"You know why, don't play dumb."
"No, I don't. Enlighten me, please," you replied, faking it. "You know, I don't really think we've met before."
"Actually, we did. It was in an audition. Around 2009, remember?" 
"Now I do," your jaw clenched. That was a fucking memory you wanted to erase and bury forever. "I'm glad I didn't pass that shit."
 "Yeah, you were such a waste now that I think of. Could've been with our team now."
Homelander chuckled, proudly and honorably, walking around and stopping in front of your vanity. He started to check your perfumes and jewelry that spread on there, like a damn kid. You followed him immediately.
"What do you want?"
"Straight to the point, fine," he began, facing you once again. Smile long gone. "I know you're up to something. Fucking stop it."
Your lips opened but he shut you up with a gesture of his hand and went on.
"Uh-uh, not now. Don't try to deny it. Don't make fucking excuses," Homelander closed the distance between both of you. His lips brushed your ear and somehow, you were frozen in place. You didn't know what would happen next, he was unpredictable.
"I know you have my dad with you, and what you're doing will not benefit me," he whispered and he pulled back to see your blank face, eyes staring with rage. "Just a small warning. I got my eyes on you," he chuckled. "But don't worry, I'm giving you a chance. Only one chance to stop whatever the fuck you're doing. Trust me, you don't wanna know what I have for you."
He started to walk to the balcony without giving you time for an answer. Not that you had much of a comeback in mind when your life and project were now in danger. At least he was going to finally leave your place. Before flying away, he turned around one last time.
"Better take care of the old man, uhm?"
Those were his last words. And you knew he didn't mean them.
You were so fucked now.
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