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briefalpacashark · 2 months

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~A little brawl~

You decide to show case a bit of your skill to stamp out the ego of a new solider. And you get in trouble.

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You and your team were posted to some random desert somewhere to complete a mission. Having already done so you were gifted with a few days of rest before your transport back home arrived. Price was loving the time off reclined in a dingy old fold out chair that looked on the verge of breaking. A cigar pinched between his teeth and a cold beer in the other hand. His hat sat over his face.

“Working hard or hardly working?” You asked with a grin walking up to him a pile of reports tucked under your arm.

“Can't you tell?” he asked gesturing to himself.

“Medical reports you were after,” with a grunt he sat up taking the reports from you.

“So how are the boys?” he asked.

“Honestly don't know how long you guys survived without a medic,” you shock your head in bewilderment.

“Where are they anyway, haven't seen em all morning,” you said.

“Oh, the little shites are playing with their new friends,” he jabbed his chin across the ways where a small group of soldiers had formed. Once you had finished business with Price you walked over, interested in whatever was happening. Spotting Ghost a head taller than the rest you made your way to his side. The acknowledgment that you had arrived was simply a sideways glance.

“What's going on here?” You asked as your eyes settled on a makeshift ring, its outline defined by a stray circle of rope set on the ground. A ring where Gaz currently was getting his ass handed to him. Your grimaced as his opponent landed a powerful hit. On the other side of the ring stood the team you had been working alongside. A group of grad A assholes. An American team.

“Wanna place a bet?” Soap asked taking a sip of his beer stepping up to your other side.

“I hate to be honest, but Gaz doesn't look like he'll win this fight,” You chuckled under your breath.

“Oh we khen that. We bettin on how long he’ll last,” Soap stated with a grin. All your attention was brought back to the ring when the fight ended with basically a knockout. Money was passed around as you and the boys slipped into the ring helping Gaz to his feet and gently hauling him out. Sitting him down you tried to hide your smirk as you woke him up with a few gentle slaps on the cheek.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You just got ya ass handed to ya by an American,” Soap was far to entertained by the fact.

“Follow my finger,” You ordered Gaz checking for a concussion.

"Alright aright come on my turn," a young cocky bloke from the other term stepped into the make shift ring. He had been a constant annoying fly that seemed to hand around you. You had politely declined his advances. More than once. You though he got the point, after all he had left you alone for a bit.

"Come on Jimmy!" his squad encouraged him. Jimmy was his name.

"Whos it gonna be?” the soldiers all asked.

"How about the bitch of 141?" he asked nodding to you. Your teams smiling faces dropped as the atmosphere did a one sixty. You pressed your lips together.

“I'm good thanks,” you waved dismissively.

“Huh, that's fine. What can you expect from you lot anyway,” he chuckled. You lot? The insult was weak, but it was there.

"Watch your mouth private," Soap's tone showed how quickly his patience for the other squad was becoming.

“Fuck off Pom, or come settle it in the ring,” Jimmy was a cocky young bloke. And little was known about the 141. so, he didn't really understand what he was offering. Well, the severity of it.

“Pom!?” Soap exclaimed in shock. Calling a Scots man British was just about the worst thing you could do. At that very moment Soap looked like he was about to rip the head of the poor lad.

“You know what, why not?’ you asked cheerfully patting Soaps shoulder as you passed him, gently pushing his back to Ghost.

“Look out, her she comes. Anybody got a set of gloves on them. Wouldn't want to catch whatever she's spreading. After all her teammates seem very fond of her,” You wondered where he got to gal of it all. Possibly little dog syndrome.

“Hey man, for your own benefit I would shut the fuck up,” Gaz words of wisdom were swept to the side. Unacknowledged by the confident young solider.

"What you got what she got?" he smriked.

Soap took a step forward only to be stopped when you held out your arm to stop him.

“Come on Soap. Rember what Price said. We need to play nice with the little new soldiers,” the team was barely out of training. It was maybe there third real mission. And Price had told you all to behave.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Soap asked with a little hit of worry as he glared down Jimmy.

"I can look after myself Jonny. Plus, someone's gotta curve this kids' ego," you joked unbuttoning your outer shirt.

"You have faith in me right Ghost?" you asked half jokingly.

"Haven't see it personally but I believe you could take me down. So this fucker aint got a chance," he shrugged simply his tone serious. You propped an eyebrow at him. You didn't know he felt that way. You were sort of chuffed. After all Ghost was good in a hand to hand combat situation.

"Wow Ghost, didn't know you felt that way about me," You joked with a wink. You didn't stay to see his reaction as you stepped into the ring those watching letting out cheers.

"Looks like your used to that," Jimmy muttered as you undressed your outer layer, his eyes resting shamelessly on your chest.

"What are the rules?" you asked shaking your jacket off. Everyone was surprised at the amount of muscle you had. Your frame was small but toned. Plus your team had never really seen your body. Soap let out an impressed whistle at your bear arms.

"Everything goes. No one kills and you tap out when you're done," Jimmy said rising his fists as he smirked.

"What about breaking bones?" you asked throwing your jacket to the side and rolling your shoulders. Your opponent was slightly put off with how calm you were.

"I don't know about breaking, but I've sure got one bone for you,” he winked his statement earning chuckles from his team. You looked your opponent up and down, he was pretty, but not your type.

“I'm flattered but I don't have my magnifying glass on me right now,” This time your own team chuckled. You smirked slightly reaching behind you to take your phone out of your pocket. You had looked down to find a place to throw it. An explosion of pain snapped to your right cheek sending you stumbling.

“Slut,” You straightened up feeling the coppery taste fill your mouth. He had punched you; he hadn't waited till the little bell had rung. A deep chuckle left you lips as you gathered the blood in your mouth and spit it to the side. Slut, you hated that word.

“The fuck was that!” Soap yelled in anger only being held back by Ghost. Why, because he had full confidence in what you were about to do.

“We hadn't started yet,” you chuckled rage bubbling inside you.

“Everything goes,” he shugged.

“Yeah, everything goes,” you nodded. Now you were a calm person, you were reasonable and rational. But the guy in front of you was cocky. And you so wanted to repay his for every unwanted advance he put forth.

You stalked forward your eyes narrowing in at him, then as you stepped right up to him you let lose. It was so quick he was barely able to throw up a block. Your fist cracked into his nose with such precision and speed that he fell back onto his ass. In a daze he stumbled back to his feet as you shock out your hand. He had a hard head.

“Get em Love!” Soap cheered for you.

He threw a wild hay maker to which you simply ducked under. Delivering another punch you aimed for his kidney. The hit crippled him, he fell to one knee. Taking his head in hand you brought it down onto your knee. You weren't a violent person, but you knew how to end a fight quickly. After all it was those skill that kept you alive. And while you never took any pleasure in it you felt a slight tingle of satisfaction.

Pushing him back you gave him a minute to breathe through the daze.

“Tapping out?” You asked. He looked like he wanted to. His anger flared at the sympathetic look you gave him. At how quickly you had managed to beat him. And how pathetic he looked because of it.

“To a slut like you?” he asked stabling to his feet. He was in no position to fight. You almost felt bad for what you had done.

“Come on mate, you can barely stand. Let's call it a day yeah?” you were happy to keep going, but you were actually worried for the boy now.

“Fuck you,” he seethed. Your forced a smile.

“Well then I'm tapping out,” you said tapping your thigh. You didn't want to continue, and you thought that would be the end of it. So, you turned your back to them. So, you didn't see the coward punch Jimmy threw. You didn't see it heading for your head. What you did see was a mass of black crowd your vision. Ghost had appeared Infront of you. You frowned as his arm shoot past your head, seeming to catch something. At the quick movement you jerked around following his arm to see he had caught the punch inches from your head. In one swift movement Ghost had swept you behind him as he twisted the man hand in painful position.

“Now that was just plane stupid,” Ghost stated as Jimmy cried out dropping to his knees at the pressure. In an instant both squads were at each others throats, yelling and throwing insults.

“You alright love?” Ghost voice broke through the commotion as he back over his shoulder at you while he still held the man in the hand lock.

“Y-Yeah,” you nodded.

“Keep your bitch on a leash!” Someone from the other team yelled.

“I'll put ye in a leash!” Soap snapped. Thats all that was needed. After that all hell broke loose.

So, there you sat. back in your own base tent that you shared with the boys. You were all lined up in a row. You and Soap sat in the middle the widest grins on your busted up faces. The insults throw quickly resulted in a brawl. One you had originally tried to break up before getting caught up in it. Ghost sat on the other side of you, his mask covering some of the hits he took. Gaz sat on the other side of Soap shaking his head at the two of you.

Price stood in front of you all an angry expression on his face.

Do you remember in school when you would look at your best friend and just randomly start laughing. Well, that's what happened to you when you peeked at Soap out the corner of your eye. You both broke out into laugher that sounded strangled as you tried to keep it in.

“I can't even leave you unsupervised for one fucking second,” Price pinched the bridge of his nose.

“They started it,” Soap interjected.

“Shut up,” Price snapped. Soap ducked his head his smirk widening.

“He tried to get her when her back was turned,” Ghost stated nodding down to you.

“Well, still did you have to beat the shit out of them?” Price words brought proud smirks to all your faces. Compared to the four of you the other team looked to be just out of commission. In the end you all delt worse than you were given.

“They were talking shit. Had to set them straight,” Gaz explained with a shrug.

“I understand that, but all I'm asking for is a little self-control. I mean who put that lads head through that brick wall?” Price put and emphasis on the word brick. You all turned to Ghost who had personally express delivered Jimmy's head to the other side of the wall. Under the attention Ghost simply shrugged and looked away.

“You're all on tent arrest,” Price declared. You all groaned and began to protest slightly.

“Enough!” he snapped.

“This is what happens. When you misbehave you get privileges taken away,” You and Soap once again tried to hold back your laughter. It was like he was scolding a group of toddlers.

“And your two smart asses are on clean up duty,” he declared pointing to the two of you.

“Ha,” Gaz chuckled.

“Fucking kids,” Price grumbled as he walked away. There were a few moments of silence as you all came to terms with the consequences you faced.

“That was defiantly worth it,” you stated.

"Defiantly," - Gaz

"Fuck yeah," - Soap

"Should have done worse," - Ghost.

Another moment of silence passed around you before you all chuckled softly. You could even see Ghost shoulder shake slightly. You looked up to him with a thankful smile.

"Thank you," you whispered. To your utter shock and bewilderment he glanced down at you.

AND WINKED!

"Anytime love," he stated before getting up and walking away. Leaving you to wonder if what you had seen was an illusion or not.

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--COD Master List Here--

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#141 x you #141 x reader #task force 141 #cod 141 #tf 141 #mw2 141 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader

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youronlydarlin · 3 months

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warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro

This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...

Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.

Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.

Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.

Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.

Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.

But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.

Simon who...

Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.

"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'

....

" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."

....

"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."

He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..

a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #cod x reader angst #ghost x reader angst #Ouchy my feelings #call of duty x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

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bell4lan · 2 months

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hiii could u do a continuation to ur chuuya x transmale reader fic?? it was SO GOOD and i wanna see the continuation of what happens the next morning or smthh.. i hope u get what i mean

Brother's Best Friend (pt.2)

Genre: Smut

DNI: NON-MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers, trans fetishizers

CW: Mentions of scars (top surgery), fingering, protected sex, feminine words used for privates (cunt, pussy), folds is used too, penetration, praise, reader is called good boy

Character(s)/Reader: Top Chuuya Nakahara x Bottom Trans Male Reader. Dazai Osamu is reader's brother

You woke up the next day feeling surprisingly well rested. Chuuya had been gone by the time you woke up which didn't really bother you, but you did want to speak with him about what happened the night before. Did he want something with you? Or did he just want to fuck? Honestly, you were okay with either. You wouldn't mind being a fuck buddy if he could fuck you as good as he fucked your thighs.

'No. Stop. Don't get horny right now you just woke up.' You thought to yourself as you got up from bed and went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You really needed a nice, cold shower.

Once you were finished, Dazai came into your room with a breakfast pastry in hand. He knew you didn't like big breakfasts, so he thought that should be good enough. You thanked him before biting into it, humming at the delicious taste.

"Did you sleep okay?" He asked with a small smile on his face. You nodded and continued to eat your breakfast. "Good, because we're going to go down to the pool today!" He exclaimed while clapping his hands. You swallowed your food and looked at him.

"How are you not hungover from last night? You drank so much you puked all over Chuuya's bed." You asked before taking another bite. Dazai laughed and ruffled your hair.

"I don't know, maybe I'm just that cool." You rolled your eyes at the stupid response and finished up your pastry. Dazai left the room so you could change, and got ready for the pool.

All of you finished getting ready after about 15 minutes but were still missing some stuff, so you all decided to go to the shop in the hotel. The store was filled with all sorts of things like souvenirs, clothes, snacks, prepacked lunches, and alcohol. You and Dazai went over to the food section while Chuuya just looked around. While he glanced, his eyes landed on something that made his face turn a pale pink.

'Condoms? Why do they have condoms here?" He thought to himself. Chuuya stared at the packages before shaking his head. He probably won't get to use them. He doesn't know if you're still comfortable with going all the way with him, or if he'll even be able to with Dazai always sticking around. Oh well, he'll just wait until after this vacation...

........

"That'll be $7.67." The cashier said kindly. Chuuya quickly gave her the cash before stuffing the box into his bag, burying it under his towel. Look, it's better to be safe than sorry alright? Who knows, maybe you guys will get the opportunity to hook up again. He wouldn't want to be unprepared for that. He quickly walked over to you and Dazai and looked at the lunch options, silently hoping that his nervousness wasn't showing.

"Did you find something to eat Chuuya?" You asked, smiling at him. He shook his head before looking down at the options again. He couldn't look at you without thinking of what happened last night. Fuck this was going to be hard for him.

Finally, you all grabbed and paid for your lunches and went off to the pool. You guys put your bags down on some chairs to claim them and started putting on some sunscreen. Once finished, Dazai ran and jumped into the pool, making a huge splash.

"No running around the pool Dazai!" Chuuya yelled. He didn't actually care about Dazai running, he was just mad because Dazai got his shirt wet before he could take it off. Dazai stuck his tongue out at the ginger before swimming away happily. You smiled and watched as Chuuya took his shirt off, getting lost in thought. You wish it were thoughts of how hot the man in front of you was, but sadly it wasn't.

"Are you going to get in?" He asked once he noticed your gaze.

"U-Um, yeah. I'm just....uh..."

"You don't have to take your shirt off if that's the issue." He reassured, noticing your hesitation. You nodded and gripped the bottom of your shirt.

"I know, but I'd like to. I'm just nervous about people noticing my scars." You confessed.

"No one will care, don't worry. If anyone gives you shit for it you know your brother and I will beat them up." You laughed and thanked him for the reassurance.

"(Name), you're not just going to stand there all day riight? Get in!" Dazai yelled from across the pool. Chuuya stepped in as you took your shirt off, making sure not to look so that you don't feel insecure. You threw your shirt to the side and got in, swimming out toward Dazai.

"Ah, doesn't it feel nice in here?" Dazai asked as he floated on his back, eyes closed in relaxation. You nodded and copied his actions, floating beside him.

You all had fun messing around in the pool and eating your lunches when the time came. Currently, it was sunset and you guys were still at the pool. You were laying on a chair while Chuuya was still swimming. Dazai was supposed to be in the bathroom, but that was 30 minutes ago so who knows what he's doing now.

"(Name), Chuuya, is it alright if I hang out with someone for the night?" Ah, speak of the devil.

"What? I thought you brought me here to hang out with me." You said, glaring at him.

"I knoooww, but (Name) this guy is sooo handsome. This could be my one chance at finding true love!" He exclaimed dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

"Uh huh, what's this guys name?" Chuuya said, swimming up to the edge of the pool.

"Kunikida." Dazai smiled. You sighed and said fine. The brunette gave you a big hug before running off to a tall blond man with glasses, leaving you and Chuuya alone. It felt...awkward. You decided to try and relax by going back in the pool, but it was even more awkward. Almost everyone who was there had already left since it was getting dark, so you and Chuuya were the only ones in that area.

"Hey." Chuuya said softly as he swam up to you, finally deciding to break the awkward silence. You smiled shyly at him and said it back. "You uh...you look really good." He said, looking you up and down.

"Yeah? Thank you." The both of you moved closer and closer to each other until finally, your lips connected in a deep and heated kiss. Chuuya's hands went down to your waist, pressing you against him, while your arms went around his neck. You couldn't get over how good he was at kissing. His tongue felt so good in your mouth. You wondered what other things he could do with it.

Sadly he pulled away, looking deep into your eyes as you both caught your breath. "Do you wanna go up to your room?" He whispered. You gave him a nod before you both quickly got out of the pool and packed up your things. Your heart raced as you both made your way to your room. You were really hoping Dazai wouldn't come back any time soon, because fuck you were horny.

Finally, you made it to your room. You pulled out the card to the door and opened it before dropping everything onto the floor. Chuuya did the same and pulled you into another heated kiss, walking you to the edge of the bed as you made out. Gently, he pushed you onto it, making you lay down. He moved his lips down to your neck as he searched for the spot that made you squirm.

"God I really wish we had condoms." You whispered. Suddenly, he stopped and hovered over you before pecking your lips.

"Hold on." He said and got off the bed to search through his bad. You looked confused as you watched him rummage through it, until finally he pulled out a box of condoms. Your heart raced as he walked back over. 'He actually wants to go all the way..? Holy shit.' You thought, feeling flustered.

"When did you...?"

"When you and Dazai were looking at the food. I wasn't sure if we'd be able to actually do it while on this trip, but I'm so glad I got them." He said before kissing you again, his hands reaching down to pull off your bathing suit. He licked his lips as he admired your now completely bare body, his dick twitching when he saw your wet cunt. You squeezed your thighs together out of embarrassment and covered your face.

"Nuh uh, c'mon baby let me see you. You look amazing, you know that?" Chuuya's hands moved to spread your legs as he watched your hands drop from your face.

"I do..?" You asked shyly.

"Of course you do (Name), you look so sexy like this." He replied gently. His right hand moved down to your folds and ran his fingers through them, collecting the wetness. You twitched as he teased you, and gasped once you finally felt two fingers enter you.

"I-I thought we were- ah! g-going all the way." You stuttered out as he fingered you.

"We are, but I need to prep you first. You're still too tight despite being so turned on." He whispered as he loosened you up. You nodded and moaned quietly as he kept fingering you.

After a few minutes, he pulled out his fingers and took off his bathing suit, revealing his hard length. He opened the condom box and tore one open before putting it on and lining up to your hole.

"Are you sure about this (Name)?" He asked, wanting explicit consent.

"Yes yes I'm sure." You whined, feeling desperate for his dick. He nodded and slowly pushed into you, biting his lip at the warmth. Your legs trembled as you felt him push further and further inside you. After a few seconds, his cock filled your pussy to the brim, finally fully inside you. You breathed heavily as you tried to adjust to his size, his thumb rubbing against your cheek.

"You're doing so good (Name), just relax. Let me take care of you." He whispered before moving his hips slowly. You choked out a moan as he started thrusting, looking up at him as he did. It wasn't enough, it was too slow.

"Chuuya~ f-faster." You whimpered. He nodded and thrusted faster, glancing down at where you two were connected. He watched as your pussy took his entire cock, groaning at how hot it looked. This was just as good as he imagined. You were so wet and hot inside, and your hole took him beautifully. And the noises, god the noises. Not only were your moans turning him on, but the sound of you getting fucked by him did too.

"F-Fuck (Name), your pussy is so good. So fucking good. You're taking it s-so well, such a good boy. Shit I should've done this s-sooner." Chuuya babbled. He sounded so fucked out, it was cute. The way he desperately fucked you made you wanna cum so bad. You were so close.

"Chuuya! K-Keep going- hah~ I'm so close." You couldn't stop moaning his name. This was the best you had ever felt in your life. It sounded dramatic, but it was the truth. Never had someone fucked you this good or make you feel this loved. You didn't want to let him go, he was so fucking good.

"Fuck baby you tightened up. You gonna cum? Go on, cum for me." He instructed. You yelped as he pounded into your pussy faster, you scratching at his back. You came with a loud whine, your legs visibly shaking as you orgasmed. Chuuya pulled out and filled up the condom before moving to your side and brushing the hair out of your face.

"You okay? Do you need anything?" He asked gently. You shook your head and leaned into his touch. He nodded and kissed your forehead before getting up to throw away the condom. He went back onto the bed and laid next to you, running his hand up and down your side.

"Is it bad that all I'm thinking about is fucking you all night long?" He whispered. You giggled and shook your head.

"No, because I'm thinking the same thing." You smiled. He cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes.

"Do you want to...go on a date once this vacation is over?" He whispered. You stared at him before nodding shyly. Smiling, he kissed you, his hand moving to the bottom of your back. You moved yourself on top of him and reached for another condom as you kissed.

"Now, let's go again while we still can."

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I wasn't originally planning on making a pt.2 to this but so many people asked so I had to :P. I hope you guys like it! It's very saucy mwahaha >:)

#bsd x male reader #bungou stray dogs x male reader #chuuya nakahara x male reader #chuuya x male reader #ftm reader

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ramu-ego · 1 year

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(sfw/nsfw) Subspace!BLLK :: x femdom!Reader

anon thank you for the request! I've got a little too much albuterol in me to focus super clearly so I hope some headcanons will suffice for now ♡ - askbox open cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, aged up, DARK CONTENT; physiological/psychological sub space(s), bdsm dynamics word count: sloppy headcanons character(s): Nagi Seishiro, Hyoma Chigiri, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi

DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs

PHYSIOLOGICAL + PSYCHOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Almost exclusive to spanking but calling you mommy gets the job done too!

absolutely grew up disconnected from any parental figure so the moment he finds out what a mommy kink is, Nagi is enthralled

straight up starts calling you mommy in private and public

scenes with him are very structured and he obeys mommy extremely well

craves structure even if that means punishments along with them

spanking with the addition of calling you mommy during a scene is absolutely when he can enter his subspace

make choices for him, decide what's pleasure for him, don't make Nagi think of utterly anything and his body is yours

impossible to overstimulate when he's in his subspace while being incredibly sensitive over every inch of his body

but he is incredibly limp when he's this vulnerable so your positions are...limited

adores the confines of mommy's pussy if you're riding him and praising him after a good spanking and his bum is warm with the marks you left

or being folded in half, all six four of him, while you peg him and tell him how many more orgasms he'll give you bc he's a good boy

either way you decide bc Nagi checks out in the best ways the second his subspace hits with you

PSYCHOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: He gets in his head about his own body!

he knows his weak spot and sometimes Chigiri obsessives over his weakness

that's where you come in

the first time was an explosively pleasant surprise during a particularly heated session that Chigiri kept insisting you keep going and that's when he accidentally slipped into that euphoric floaty bliss

then by back tracking when Chigiri realized he could slip just right into that perfect subspace when he's at his worst by how you made him feel

absolutely needs that connection and your guidance to let him let go and find his bliss

coax him thru words, praise and gentle touches over every inch of him working your way to touching his thighs and his legs

he will loose it the second you touch his legs while you're pegging him

acts a total whore and lets you use any part of him you want

very suggestible and very ready to please

his body becomes your gummy toy to do whatever you want with bc Chigiri trusts you with his most weakest spots

PHYSIOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Pain! Push the limits each scene!

a living breathing monster that lives to push the limits of what both of you can do!

Bachira experiencing subspace comes almost accidentally after an experiment with a leather crop turns extra exciting

make it more than just pain though he needs to be limited in what he does or how he can move - revoke his freedom and his subspace follows

preferable, strapped to do a chair if he has any say in it

pay extra attention to his thighs to break him sooner than later for each scene

and that goes for his cock as well Bachira gets off quiet well to the slap of the leather against his thigh or simply across his cock as well

trusts you to know his limit during the scene and bc of that subspace isn't always achieved

when it is though Bachira turns simply into a sex starved whore

exceptionally loves to have his mouth used when he's floating in his subspace

ride his face and suffocate him in your fun if you must the pain of no air to his lungs is ecstasys inducing

or fuck his throat with your strap telling him to wet it for you to fuck him with and he'll slobber all over the silicone like he's trying to suck a load from it

and when it comes to pegging him, you might as well let Bachi ride you bc your hips will give out before his subspace does if he earns the right of your strap in him

PHYSIOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Making him feel so much sends him adrift in his subspace!

break his calm exterior with leather and chains

emphasis on restriction of what he can do forces Sae into the comfortability of his subspace as his body realizes faster than his mind that he can't be in control

fond of both your hands as well as flogs and crops this man's body begs to be painted in red marks until he's agreed to obey

scenes with this man include breaking his spirit as a right of passage to his subspace

first time he responds to you with a "yes ma'am" means you're on the right track

fueled by pain Sae loves the feeling of loosing control of his body as it reacts to what you inflict onto him and not by what he's telling himself to do

total control on the soccer field leads to utter helplessness in the bedroom

his torso and thighs are where it's at!

the broadest parts of him where you can make the sharpest stings with your palm or a favored toy

he loves leather

eliciting different reactions from his body though in ways he couldn't think of also help this man slip into his subspace

temperature play integrated with some light slapping will have him obeying you while he is unable to talk back

Sae is extra willing to please you after his body is marked up by you in the most devilish of ways

PSYCHOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Overwhelming emotions gush over to his subspace!

will almost always ask for a scene in which he can slip into subspace if he's lost a game, hard a bad practice or any interaction with his brother

so...often

triggered by words; such as cooing, praise and being referred to as "mommy's baby" will instantly set Rin on the track for his subspace

touching can help speed the process along but Rin tends to take these moments as a way to decompress and let go as well

overwhelming praise brings out that passive floaty personality of his while you get the pleasure of disrobing him and peppering his body in delicate attention

skin to skin! skin to skin!

Rin wants you as naked as he is so he can mash every inch of his body into yours like he needs to crawl into you to survive

when his emotions are this raw overstimulating him is so easy and a must

every form of pleasure is welcomed from you riding him while he nurses and clutches you...to pinning him under you and fucking him until he's nonverbal...Rin expects the full spectrum if he trusts you enough to find his subspace

his subspace can be longer if you peg him and refuse his orgasms

body super eager to please once he's slipped into his subspace under you; he can't say no to you like this so tender care of every inch of him until he's overflowing is a must to assure a successful scene

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 11 months

Text

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 01 of 13}

Billy Hargrove X Older!Reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirting with you... Much less than Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

Next part (02) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, the reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

The Exact Opposite

The wind is cold against your skin as you move against the sea of students. It has a weird feeling to be in a High School again, even though you left it not so long ago. But still, it feels like a whole different world now.

“This school is tiny,” Tanya says, walking beside you. “Mine had three buildings and the parking lot was twice the size of this one.”

“Mine was big too.” There are a lot of eyes on both of you, but you got used to it. It's a small town, and you're both newcomers, walking inside the school while everyone is walking out. They must be curious.

“Sometimes I wonder if transferring here was a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I'm from New York, the city that never sleeps. This town is... Way too slow for me.” You break apart to let a couple holding hands pass before going to the side again. “Indianapolis was bad already. Hawkins...” She sighs, shaking her head.

“You can always transfer back. I'll miss you, but don't let that stop you.” Linking arms with her, you smile.

“You better do.”

Giggling, you push the school officer's door, feeling the cold air-conditioning air. You and Tanya make your way to the receptionist, an old lady who immediately looks up at you. “Good afternoon. We're here for the tutoring.”

“Good afternoon, my dears.” She greets and smiles, searching for something on her table. A couple of seconds later, she finds it. “Who's Tanya and who's (Y/N)?”

“I'm (Y/N).” You say, taking the paper she gives you.

“On these files, you have information about the students you'll be helping. Those set for today must be arriving anytime now, the classes just ended.” She smiles again. “If you need anything, I'm Mrs. Duford and I'll be here to help.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Duford,” Tanya says and you nod at her, moving to sit on the chairs placed by the wall. “You know I'm only doing this for the trip, right? Dealing with teenagers and kids isn't my thing.”

“Oh, you got some from the elementary school too?”

“Yes. But I'm rethinking it. Teenagers are bad enough and-” Someone opens the door and gets your attention. The blonde girl speaks to Mrs. Duford, who gestures at you. “Guess that's my cue?” She asks, glancing at your paper.

“Yup. I got a boy.”

Sighing, she stands up. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” You mutter and she smiles. She's not really into it, but she's smart, and the kids will benefit from her teaching.

So, left alone, you wait for your student. Ten minutes pass by, and ten more. Maybe he didn't come today or forgot the whole thing. But since you don't have anything to do today, you decide to wait a while longer.

“My dear.” Mrs. Duford calls and you look up at her. “If the student isn't here you're free to go. I will write a report that he didn't show and-” She's cut off by a guy pushing the door open. He goes straight to her desk and you look down, getting a glimpse of his jeans jacket.

“Guess I'm off then.” You tell yourself, taking your bag from the chair beside you and folding the papers in half.

“Are you my tutor?” A strong voice asks, quite rudely, as you get to your feet. Looking up, you find a man staring down at you. Did he just say something about a tutor? Is this man a student here? You were expecting a teenager, not... This.

“Yes?” It sounds like a question, and you quickly unfold the paper, reading the name. “Are you William Hargrove?”

When you look at him again, you see his expression change. It's fast, and it happens suddenly. It shifts from anger and annoyance to what seems like surprise, right before going back to annoyance.

“Just Billy.” He says, awkwardly glancing at Mrs. Duford before turning his attention back to you. “Are you really my tutor?”

“Yes, why?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders and look away. You've been staring at his eyes, light blue eyes, for a little too long.

“Nothing.” He steps back, clearing his throat. “What now?”

“They have a classroom set for us.”

Billy nods, gesturing at the door and smiling. “Lead the way, teacher.”

---

Billy had to drive like crazy, leave his dipshit sister home and drive back to school. He failed one single test. It's not like he couldn't recover from an F. He did it before, but now the school has this partnership with Indianapolis University, and he has put in it, with a lot of other students.

The truth is that Billy can't stand school anymore. When he turned 18 last year, he thought he'd take his car and go back to California. Go back home. But adult life needs a freaking High School diploma, so he had to stay.

Pushing the car door close, he walks fast inside, cursing himself, the teachers, and everyone else he can name. He can't wait for this to be over, to leave Neil behind, leave that hell of a house behind. Billy wants a life for himself, away from all these stupid, shitty people. High School is just a tiny thing compared to what he wants. Billy wants more. He wants to <be> more. But for that, he needs to graduate.

“I'm here for some tutor they assigned me.” He spits at the old woman behind the desk, the door banging loudly behind him.

“She's over there, Mr. Hargrove.” The woman says, and he follows her gesture, finding a girl on the set of chairs near the wall.

Rolling his eyes and sighing, he walks over to her. “Are you my tutor?” He spits the words, impatient, watching as she stands up, fixing the strap of the bag on her shoulder. The girl looks up, and Billy is taken aback. Of course, he was expecting some ugly nerd with a messed-up face. But this? This girl is a sight for sore eyes, and Billy Hargrove is sore from everything.

“Yes?” She asks her voice as soft as silk. She also seems a little shocked, opening her papers before raising her eyes to meet his again. “William Hargrove?”

Ugh, not Willian. He should be mad about it, but for some reason, he feels compelled to forgive her for calling him like that. “Just Billy. Are you really my tutor?” He has to be sure, just in case this is some stupid joke on him.

“Yes. Why?”

“Nothing.” Moving away a little, Billy clears his throat. At least he'll have a pretty face to look at while he endures this. And what a face she has. Prettier than all the girls of Hawkings. “What now?”

“They have a classroom set for us.”

Just for the two of them?

The thought crosses his mind like a lightning bolt, making him hold back a smile. Maybe he could try something with her, why not? Even though she doesn't give him the feeling that she'd be down for that. The least he could do is try. So he gestures at the door, offering her a smile. “Lead the way, teacher.”

---

You enter the classroom first, quickly acknowledging the other three pairs. There's a free table in the back, far enough from the others not to bother them. “Is that table alright?” You ask him, and when he nods, you make your way there, take a seat, waiting for him to do the same.

“What's your name?” He asks just as he takes his place across from you, cupping his hands over the table and leaning forward.

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you, Will... Billy.” Correcting yourself, you smile. “Can we start?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want to go through the test you failed? Or focus on what's coming next?”

“The past is in the past. Let's move on.”

“Alright.” Checking the papers, you read the class planner. “Immune System.” You say. “What exactly do you know about it?”

“Mmm...” Billy mumbles, and it's clear that he's not very interested in this. But you don't blame him. You weren't very excited about High School yourself, and you didn't care much about the subjects you didn't like. You're sure he'd rather be hanging out with his friends, and honestly, so would you. “Something about protecting the body from infections or sickness.”

“You're right. Do you have any books with you?” You know he doesn't since he didn't bring any bags, but you decide to ask.

“In my locker.” He jerks his head to the door. “Want me to get it for you?”

“That would be good.” Nodding, you watch as he smirks again and stands up.

“I'll be right back.”

“You better be.” It comes out more in a joking tone and in a warning one. If Billy uses this as an excuse to leave, you don't mind. It's his future, so this is completely up to him.

But he comes back a couple of minutes later.

On the next day though, he shows up late again. And on the next one, you find him on your way out, more than thirty minutes late. Now, you have only two other meetings with him, he'll have a quiz, and if he goes well, you'll be assigned to someone else. But you think he'll do just fine because it seems like he's paying attention...

Until you noticed he wasn't. Billy was just staring, glaring at you... And you were keeping cool, ignoring it as long as he answered the questions, but today, at the last meeting, you decided to ask, mostly out of curiosity, and because you think he'll do well enough on the quiz, even if just to be free from your tutoring.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You inquire, tapping the table with your pen.

Billy chuckles, pushing his notebook away. “Because I like looking at pretty girls.”

What the hell? You regret asking when you feel your cheeks heating up. You surely weren't expecting that. But now you know his strategy. Billy is the town's bad boy, you've heard a lot about him. And you won't fall for his games. “Is that what you usually say to make girls go out with you?”

He giggles, eyes still fixed on you. “No. I only have to ask. The answer is always yes. No need to sugarcoat it with compliments.” He sounds serious this time, leaning closer. “So when I compliment a girl, I mean it.”

“Mhmm.” You mutter, raising an eyebrow and leaning back on your chair. “I'm not your type of girl, Billy. You like them easy and pretty.”

“And you're the exact opposite.” He bursts out, closing his notebook at the same moment you close the book. Today's class is over.

“Make up your mind, Billy. You can't compliment me and then take it back.” Pushing the book over to him, you shrug your shoulders. “Say what you mean and stick to it.”

“You didn't get me.” Billy laughs, taking both the book and notebook with a hand. That's when you notice how big his hands are... But why are you even noticing that? You've seen handsome guys before... No big deal.

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” You both stand up, and you start walking to the door as he follows you from up close. “I meant you're not easy to get like those sluts and...” He makes a pause when you cross the door, long enough to make you look at him, waiting for further explanation. Is that also part of his strategy? “And, no, you're not pretty. It didn't take more than a second to get to the conclusion that pretty isn't enough to describe you.”

“Dear God.” You exclaim, laughing. “Are you seriously doing that?” Walking side by side with him, you reach the parking lot. The setting sun casts a beautiful, warm light, that makes you wish you had a Polaroid camera with you.

“Doing what?”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you hitting on me, Billy Hargrove?” You stop by your car, turning to look at him.

“What if I am?” He gives you that smirk again, the ice-melting one. “Would you have a problem with that?”

“I'm older than you, in case you haven't noticed.” With a bright smile on your face, you state the obvious, because you know it'll send him off. Wipe this stupid idea off his head.

“How old are you? Thirty?” The sarcasm is mixed with an eye-roll, and the way he keeps staring down at you makes you feel a little anxious.

“I may be.” Stepping back you glance at your car. You just want to drive home and forget this embarrassing conversation.

“You look my age, Princess. People here thought you were a new student.” Billy chuckles, and your face starts to burn at the pet name. He probably calls everyone that, so it's plain stupid to let it sink. “But tell me, how old are you?”

“I'll be twenty-four in a couple of months.” Your voice sounds weaker now because you don't feel so triumphant anymore. But you still hope the five years it'll be enough.

“So? I'm eighteen. We're both adults.” He shrugs his shoulders, and you sigh. “If it makes you feel better, I'm closer to nineteen than I am to seventeen so...”

Taking a deep breath, you step back again, wondering what you could possibly say in a situation like this. “Look, Billy, I gotta go. I hope I helped you somehow and that you'll do better from now on.” Walking backwards, you wave at him. “Good luck and remember everything we studied.” Turning around, you get into your car, thanking God for being away from Billy.

Through the review mirror, you watch as he gets inside his car, a dark blue Camaro. You wait for a while, but he doesn't even start the car. Rolling your eyes, you decide not to think about it. Turning the ignition, you leave the parking lot and hit the streets, relieved that this is all over.

Taglist: @multific

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things billy x reader #stranger things fanfic #billy stranger things fanfiction

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fbfh · 7 months

Note

hii! could I request headcanons for leo and a reader (gender neutral or female, whatever u prefer) with chronic fatigue? there's barely any fics with cfs rep and he's my comfort character so i thought i'd ask T-T. i adore your writing and it's great to see that the hoo fandom is still alive. thank you sm!!

oh man oh boy I love this one anon. my dearest darlingest anoniest anon. one song that always makes me think of how it feels to be in a relationship with Leo is acolyte by slaughter beach dog. Leo can always tell when your fatigue is getting bad, sometimes before you can. There's this sort of soft way he looks at you when he knows you just need to rest a little. Whatever your needs are, Leo will always be sure to meet them. If you need to lay down and sleep or rest for a while, he'll make sure you're in optimum napping conditions. Need some cuddles? he's already spooning you. Need to be alone? no problem, he's gonna work on some of his prototypes in the garage for a while, just text or call if you need anything. forehead kiss. longing warm gaze.

"I love you, estrella."

punctuated by another kiss, ofc. he always has ibuprofen or other pain killers for when you start to feel achy, and he's better at helping you keep track of your meds than your pill tracker app. Leo's love language is "I invented this for you to make your life easier", like the guy who invented rubber gloves. Leo loves you to the point of invention. he's joked for years that he's going to build you a Jetsons house, so everything is perfectly automated. all you need to do is sit in a chair while you glide down an assembly line and everything will be done for you. sometimes you text him and tell him you're having a jane jetson day. he always comes right over with snacks and tea and anything else you might need. he'll cuddle you for a while, help you out with some housework, do a little meal prep for you. he never, ever makes you feel bad or even neutral about having chronic fatigue. if it ever gets you down, he'll be right there with hugs and kisses and the sweetest, softest, most encouraging words. he tells you how he would hold up the sky for you or crawl out of hell, so helping with laudry and dishes when you're having a bad day is really no problem at all for him. he's happy to do it, happy to know your needs are met, happy to be the one to meet them. if you get any other symptoms like headaches or sore throats, he'll get every home remedy under the sun from his mom and you'll try them out until he finds what will work for you. Leo slowly makes good on his joking promise to make you a jetsons house, and you soon find your place filled with inventions here and there from Leo, little things to make your life easier. and they work. it takes so much stress out of your life knowing that your dish washer can now rinse, wash, dry, and put away your dishes, that your fridge organizes itself and prints out lists of what you're running low on - it can even send them to your phone to automatically order them. you have a roomba that Leo turned into the monster truck of roombas. not only does it vaccuum, but it also sweeps, mops, picks up your floor, can get you stuff from other rooms, and folds laundry. it's also a dehumidifier. you named him mr. butlertron. and Leo loves every motherfucking moment of it. even if all you can do is sit or lay down in the same room as him while he cleans or cooks or works on his projects, it always makes it so much better because you're there. you're there with him, so everything is good. perfect.

#drabbles #leo valdez #leo valdez drabbles #leo valdez fluff #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus drabbles #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus fluff #chronic fatigue #chronically ill!reader #chronically ill reader #leo is SO fucking supportive #he just loves being around you

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creelteeth · 2 years

Note

Finally catching perv!steve, you spot him looking when you bend down to get something and catch sight of the bulge that's nearly bursting the zipper of his jeans

Making him watch while you touch yourself, calling him names, telling him he's a pathetic pervert and he'll never have you, telling him you know how much he likes to watch and how disgusted it makes you

Steve's cock aching because you won't let him touch himself, and because somehow the only thing hotter than you fucking his brains out is being made to watch because he's not worthy of you

Anyway uh.... sorry if I got a bit carried away there 😅 your story gave me a lot of Thoughts(tm)

Really hope you keep writing the way you write Steve is so good and I am obsessed🥰

he's such a pitiful little thing :(( he doesn't mean to get so riled up, he really can't help it but you're just so beautiful.

now look at him. you'd been messing with him for the last few hours. making him sit on his hands while you toy with him. the agreement was simple, if he wanted to make it up to you he had to keep his hands to himself. but what he didn't expect was to be tormented for what felt like fucking centuries. though he loved every lasting bit of it. it started off simple, you licking over the mushroomy tip of his cock through his jeans. telling him that he should be so ashamed of himself for being so desperate. honestly, he probably would've cum from just that if you didn't pull away when you did.

poor steve found begging you to let him make it up to you some other way. he doesn't even care about summing, he just wants to feel you. please, please, just let him touch you.

" perverts don't get what they want. " you remind him, pouting mockingly. he really didn't mean to be so vulgar, you just looked so pretty in your new outfit. it wasn't on purpose. he's a gentleman, remember, a good boy.

you watch him squirm as you sit back, hiking up the very skirt that started this mess to begin with. you were sitting in a chair, opposite of him. legs parted to reveal your puffy cunt that seemed to be covered by nothing. the image making his head drop back, licking at his lips. he'd never wanted to touch someone so bad in his fucking life.

"you're being mean." he mewls, fingers gripping the seat of his chair.

"oh?" you ponder, hands ducking down to part your sticky folds. spreading them far enough for him to see the gape of your greedy hole, clenching it around nothing. "and whose fault is that? only one of us is a disgusting creep who can't keep his cock under control."

the way his cock twitches, pre spurting out of his spongey red tip at your harsh words fills you with amusement. who knew steve harrington was such desperate little pervert? his hips rutt upwards, thighs trembling helplessly. words cannot begin to describe how much he's been yearning for this. all the times spent fucking his hand in your driveway. the countless trips to the bathroom to jerk off leaving the door cracked justttt a smidge hoping you'd somehow catch him red-handed. he wanted to be found out, he wanted his unrelenting yearning for you to be discovered so that hopefully one day you'll let him fuck you raw. all that led to today and poor steve could not be more pleased with the outcome. the sheer sight of your fingers working around you greedy cunt, the sticky sounds, the slick that's coating your beautiful little fingers. god he's basically drooling.

#anon #casey answers #perv!steve #wanna bully him until he cums all over himself

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moronic-validity · 6 months

Note

So ummmmmmmmm how do you picture (either in DWU or more canonish) Simon being pregnant (you choose the other parent!)

Okay so I don't usually write mpreg, but let's toy with this a little because I have some headcanons. (Edit: I had a lot of headcanons and would be willing to turn this into a mini fic series. It'd probably be a little longer than Stockholm Syndrome)

18+, but also not really

1) we're gonna explore this using the DWU because I've got an established relationship to work with.

2) Winter and Simon have a lot of unprotected sex, like a LOT. And they're both guys, so what's the issue, right? Wrong.

3) Simon begins getting nauseous as hell every morning and sometimes into late afternoon.

4) he also can't seem to stand the smell of meat.

5) Winter is concerned, but he just assumes Simon has a stomach bug

6) a few months pass and the nausea seems to lift a little, but now he's gaining weight.

7) Simon is mentally convinced he has stomach cancer or something in that line

8) so he calls Doctor Princess, who listens to the symptoms and laughs.

9) "Simon...if anyone with a uterus told me this, I'd be pretty sure they're pregnant."

10) Simon laughs and explains that as far as he knows, he doesn't have one, so that can't be it.

11) he humors her and lets her do an ultrasound.

12) surprise Simon, you're a dad!

13) Simon straight up faints.

14) Doctor Princess calls Winter (yeah shocker, he does actually have a phone, he just hates to use it)

15) Winter is ECSTATIC. He loves the thought of a little Petrikov running around the castle, of an heir to the Kingdom.

16) Simon comes to and Doctor Princess has to explain again that he is pregnant and well into the 2nd trimester at this point.

17) They come up with a game plan and he'll come in for ultrasounds pretty regularly just to make sure the baby is actually progressing and once he hits 40 weeks, they'll do a C-section.

18) Simon spends the next few weeks in a haze, still not believing he's pregnant, even after multiple ultrasounds and his growing belly confirm it.

19) Winter is in full blown I'm gonna be a dad mode. He's already designed a nursery and everything.

20) He also becomes a lot more protective of Simon, canceling larger events under the pretense of Simon dealing with a serious medical emergency.

21) Most of Ooo know Simon by this point and are incredibly worried about him.

22) PB and Marceline come for an unannounced visit, worried as hell about Simon (because while they don't really know how to feel about Winter, they LOVE Simon)

23) Winter almost send the Ice Scouts to stop them, but Simon is happy to see his new old friends.

24) Marceline sees his stomach and immediately knows.

25) her and Bonnibel are both incredibly confused, but also excited for him.

26) They want to throw a baby shower, Simon is on the fence, but when Marceline does the puppy eyes, he folds like a fucking lawn chair.

27) He finally thinks about it and gets Prismo's attention

28) he gets beamed up and Prismo is like heeeey dad to be, how're you feeling?

29) Simon asks for a favor and Prismo considers it before beaming his Finn, Marceline, and Bonnibel into the time room.

30) everyone but Finn is super confused before their focus turns on Simon

31) "Holy shit" is all Marceline can come up with.

32) they're all so excited for him and just happy to see him.

33) They hang out in the time room for a few hours before Prismo has to put everyone back

34) Winter asks how it went and Simon is like honestly? It was really good.

35) They agree that if it's a girl, they'll name her Beatrice and she'll go by Betty. If it's a boy, they'll name him Jake (Winter wants to name him after Finn, but Simon doesn't want to name him after someone still alive).

36) Simon starts getting really bad contractions around 38 weeks, but with no where for the baby to go, he doesn't know what to do.

37) Doctor Princess has been flying by the seat of her pants for all of this and realizes that it's time.

38) She gets Simon prepped for surgery and tells Winter to scrub in too.

39) the C-section goes as planned, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they hear the newest Petrikov cry.

40) It's a girl.

41) Winter is able to clip the umbilical cord, which for some reason, he was really looking forward to doing.

42) Simon is crying as Doctor Princess rests his baby girl on his chest. He has never felt so much love for another being in his life.

43) Winter holds his partner and his child and it really sinks in that this is his family and he will do any and everything to keep them safe.

44) Doctor Princess stitches him up and tells them she needs to wheel Simon to his room and they should probably stay at least over night just to make sure everything is okay.

45) time skip because everything is okay and Winter and Simon are stupidly good parents.

46) At Beatrice's first birthday, two strangers to the Kingdom find themselves in attendance, one as the brightest pink hair Simon has ever seen and the other has light blue hair and looks shockingly familiar, but he can't place him.

47) They, along with the rest of the kingdom dote on the Beatrice Petrikov. The crowd eventually dies down and goes home, until only the five of them are left.

48) "Hey Simon, sorry for surprising you like this, but I just had to see your kid! She's so cute!!!" The pink haired one said, slinging an arm over Simon's shoulders.

49) the dots connect

50) Simon hugs Prismo, laughing and explaining he didn't recognize him at first, then shakes Scarab's hand and thanks them both for coming.

51) Prismo takes a picture of the baby and her dads and promises to show Finn, Marcy, and Bonni.

52) I totally forgot to talk about Beatrice's appearance, she has Simon's skin tone and Winter's hair, with only a small tuft of black. She also doesn't have a nose, shocker, right?

#teddy talks #theo's thoughts #winterkov #simon petrikov #the winter king #simon x winter king #simoncest #winter king x simon #simonpetrikov #winterking #simon mpreg

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paisholotus · 6 months

Text

Ezintathu

Jamaica

Stella's Pov

Walking into the foyer, holding Erik's hand, I called my grandkids, Lua, Yarri, and Aja to come downstairs. Erik looked up at me, and I smiled, rubbing the back of his head.

All three of them ran down the steps in pajamas and smiled, except for Yarri, who isn't the smiley type. "Mi wa yuh guys, tuh meet Erik; he'll be staying with you for a couple of days." I said. Bringing Erik towards the girls, introducing him to them. Lua and Aja smiled while Yarri folded her arms and said, "He's cute." Causing Erik to look away, blushing.

I gave Yarri a look and told the kids to show Erik around while I go call his dad, since he kept asking before we got here. He hesitantly followed them, and I blew him a kiss and waved them bye. I walked upstairs to my office. I sat down in my chair, holding my head in my hands, my head running with a million thoughts of how I was going to do this. I sat up with a determined mindset. T'chaka was going to, except for the fact that Erik was going to be there, and he was going to get to know his family, whether he liked it or not.

I picked up the kimoyo beads that Ramonda gave me last time I was there. I would have used my phone, but they sadly don't use those. Only when they have to come to America does it help them blend in. I pressed the bead to connect to T'chaka, waiting for him to answer. After a good while, he finally answers, and it appears he was lying down.

"What do you want?" He said it groggily. I glared at him through the hologram, and he chuckled, obviously thinking it was funny. As if I was supposed to forget everything that happened a day ago, fire grew in my belly as I got angry. But apparently, he thought that was funnier. I took a deep breath and smirked, leaning back in my chair. "I have the boy." I said, with all seriousness. He stopped laughing and glared at me, slowly getting out of bed, careful not to wake up Ramonda. He walked into the bathroom, closing the door and giving me the most vicious glare he could.

"YOU DARE DISOBEY MY ORDERS!" He yelled. I looked around the room, and before chuckling, I knew he wasn't talking to me. "Careful now, yuh, wake up, yuh, wife. And mi nuh memba eva taking ordas fron yuh." I said, laughing. He looked around the room before cussing under his breath in Xhosa. "And what do you plan on doing with them? Hmm, what will this solve? Don't you think he's going to hate you when he finds out?"He chuckled darkly.

I turned hard as I leaned back forward. "Yuh, tink Intimidating and guilt-trippin, gon save yuh? Yuh murda dat boys fada in cold blood. As far as wah mi gon do, him gon get to know his family whether you like it or not." I said, dangerously low.

He put both hands on the bathroom counter, glaring at me, "over my dead body." He said, slowly. I smiled at him and said, "Well, mi guess mi gon have anotha body tuh turn into dust." I said, finally ending the call.

Even though I felt strong at that moment, I started to hyperventilate as tears ran down my face. I've never been so heartbroken for a child. But also for my friend. N'Jobu, T'chaka, and I grew up together; I was the oldest. I didn't really get along with T'chaka, but me and N'Jobu were the best of pairs; he was the kindest friend I could ever ask for. T'chaka had always had a temper and was spiteful when he wanted to be, never in public but behind closed doors. You'd think you were looking at another person. But never in my life did I think he could do something like this.

"Gamma! We're hungry." I quickly wiped my face and stood up, walking them back downstairs to get them something to eat.

9 notes · View notes

nabtime · 10 months

Text

Our Empty Graves IX

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 9: and I cant fix what was done to you (but ill shield you from the rain)

Chapter Summary: A few moments of calm before the storm. A little help goes a long way.

Chapter Notes: title from Small Hands by Radical Face Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 10 // Spotify

Nadi had never seen hair like Fetcher had. It wasn’t- hair- not properly. It was soft like fog, wispy like a cloud. And it moved like it was underwater, flowing and floating and altogether, frankly, a bitch to cut. But it needed to be trimmed, because it looked like someone had taken a torch to some parts of the poor kid’s skull. Chunks were burned off. She also wasn’t about to give up after all the trouble she’d been through to get little cujo to agree to this.

She’d walked ten blocks round trip to her apartment and back, Charlie huffing and puffing from just a simple folding chair and bag the entire time. Packed a sheet and all her usual hair-cutting tools. She knew her way around some scissors- a lot of the girls came to her for trims instead of paying for a full stylist. She used to be a barber, way back in what she liked to think of as her past life.

That time felt so long ago. Before she was Nadi, before she walked the streets of Park Row. She used to live in the nicer parts of Gotham, sitting pretty with a stable job, stable apartment, stable family. Then she transitioned and everything went to shit. Fired, evicted, disowned. The whole nine yards or whatever. No big deal, though. She liked where she was at in life now, despite it all. And most of the time she was genuinely happier here, working the corner as the woman she was always meant to be instead of suffering as the man society wanted her to be.

She’d found her people here, in Park Row. Crime Alley. The other cast-offs and has-beens. The others that didn’t belong. And this poor baby boy was yet another reject. A poor soul left for dead in the slums. He was such a sweetheart, and she wasn’t about to let him fend for himself so completely. Not if she could help it. And she could, if only a little bit. She would cut his hair, she would feed him, she would offer a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen. She wouldn’t let anyone else feel like she once had. Alone and abandoned. All it ever took was a small kindness, a tiny gesture of good-faith. She could do that. She’d move heaven and hell if it meant the sweet boy that had saved her, had saved many others in the Alley, wouldn’t be so skittish. So alone. Sure he was vicious, but only when he needed to be. Only to protect others. Boy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. She wasn’t completely sure he had bones in his body but that wasn’t important.

What mattered was getting his hair fixed.

She couldn’t do much for him. Couldn’t even begin to fix all that was wrong with him, all the wrong that was done to him. She could kill Hood for scaring her baby off. She didn’t know what he did but she was going to kick his ass for it. Crime Lord or no, he deserved it. She’d already kicked him where it hurt when she’d gone after him about Fetcher being missing in the first place, but he could do with a few more.

The boy was purring under her hands as she carded her fingers through his hair. Purring. That was goddamn adorable. How dare Red Hood do anything to upset him when the boy could purr.

She snipped away, gently brushing as she went. Thankfully, even with the singed edges, his hair still had a bit of length so even after she was done it would still hover around his shoulders. Literally hover. He looked good, fluffy like that, and she didn’t want to cut it any shorter than she had to. He’d already flinched once at the scissors coming close to his little pointed ears, she wouldn’t have that again.

“Almost done, mi vida,” she murmured, trimming the last strand and dropping it to let it float. “You doing okay?”

The purr rumbled like he was humming in agreement. Fuck that was cute.

She ran her hands through his hair a few more times, shaking out loose strands and fixing any tangles. Just enjoying the cool feeling- like mist and fog with only the slightest solidity- whirl around under her touch. Enjoying the purr it kicked up when she did it.

“All done, baby,” she said, reluctantly pulling her hands away and tugging off the sheet she’d wrapped him in, shaking it out to let the cuttings fall to the ground. They were, strangely, black. The moment she cut it away, his hair would turn black and solid like normal hair. She didn’t ask. It was none of her business.

She circled him and smiled. He looked a little goofy, still touch-drunk with his eye-lids drooping, all slumped into the chair like he was melting. His hair didn’t look half bad now, wavy and curling around his face, kissing his neck and cheeks as it swayed in an invisible wind. She’d done a pretty damn good job, all things considered. She wanted to coo at the sight of him, but she held it in. She didn’t want to spook him. They’d been doing so well so far.

She didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave him here. But she knew he wasn’t going to come, no matter how many times she asked.

“Do you wanna have a look?” she asked, moving to pull the hand-held mirror from the bag she’d made Charlie lug with them.

Fetcher’s gaze sharpened and he tensed in the chair, looking ready to flee. His purring had ceased. He shook his head fervently and she wanted to despair. What in the world had happened to him? What horrors had descended on her sweet, sweet boy?

“Okay,” she placated. “That’s okay.” She waited until he’d relaxed again, though not as much as he had been before. “You’ll just have to trust me when I tell you that you’re a very handsome young man.”

He rolled his eyes and she grinned.

“It’s true! You’re a pretty boy, and my handiwork only made you prettier.”

He stuck his tongue out and folded his arms.

She laughed. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to come with her. But it wouldn’t happen. Not yet, at least. Not until she could kick Hood’s ass and get him to fix whatever he’d broken here. She rummaged in the bag and brought out the thick blanket she’d packed and the bimbunuelos and gansito snacks she’d grabbed from the gas station for him.

She sighed and made sure she had Fetcher’s attention. “Alright, baby. I know I can’t convince you to come with me,” she said slowly. “I’m still sure I could smuggle you in and Hood wouldn’t say a word if he knew what was good for him,” she murmured vindictively, “but I can’t force you.”

He simply watched her as she handed the blanket and the treats over. “But, please,” she begged,” take care of yourself out here, mi vida.”

He gathered everything up in his arms and gave her a serious nod. She smiled at his solemn look, wishing with all her heart he’d learn to smile more instead.

“I’m going to head back to work now,” she said, backing up to give Fetcher some space. “But I’m going to visit again.”

She gave him a stern look this time. “So you better take care of yourself, baby. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

He pouted, petulant, and huffed before giving her another quick nod and floating himself back up into the bough of the hickory he’d claimed for himself.

It was a small kindness, giving him that haircut, but she knew it meant more than that for the both of them. It was about acceptance. Accepting him as he was. About permission. Permission to seek comfort from her. Permission to see and be seen. She hoped he understood that.

Now, she had a Crime Lord’s ass to kick.

═════ ◈ ═════

Alfred Pennyworth had served the Wayne family for many years now. Seen and done more things serving Bruce than he ever had in service to the Crown. One would think being a butler would be less exciting than a top ranking M15 agent, but one was not often employed and trusted by The Batman as a butler.

Seeing Bruce grow and raising him were some of the most rewarding moments of his life. Seeing him grieve and break after every death that piled upon his shoulders were the most heartbreaking moments of his life. Seeing him obsess over the possibility that one of his wards, one of his ‘fallen soldiers’, had made their way back to the grave, was nothing less than harrowing.

Once again, Alfred was witness to Bruce passively trying to kill himself- ignoring anything and everything but the case he was working on. The facts in front of him. Solving it all like a puzzle that had pieces one could fit together in the first place. Getting frustrated when it didn’t all fall into place. Bruce rarely acknowledged that sometimes cases didn’t have all the pieces, couldn’t be solved by fact alone, because to do so would admit defeat in his eyes. He needed logic and sense and many times life was far too messy for that. People were unpredictable and murders and villainy more so. But his boy had never been comfortable with things he couldn’t predict.

Like Jason Todd rising from the grave.

Alfred knew in his bones that Jason had returned, changed and broken, but returned all the same. He wasn’t about to say so to Bruce, the man would never understand the certainty he felt without the facts to confirm. But he knew . And it broke him just as well. He was over the moon to have one of his wards back in the living realm with them, for him to be alive again. But to see him torn and angry like he was… To see him so full of pain and hatred… Alfred couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand to know that he’d had a hand in the boy’s death. Had a hand in the neglect he’d suffered upon his initial return. It might not have been directly, but guilt never cared degrees of cause, especially when one cared . And Alfred Pennyworth cared more than anything.

He was nothing more than a sentimental old fool.

But he would help where he could. He would stand vigil with Bruce, care for the man wherever he would allow. He would keep in contact with Richard and Timothy, check in on them as often as possible ( he would not lose another ). He would place another cup of coffee by the Batcomputer and lie in wait. Nothing would move Bruce from the screens, not even much needed sleep, so he would do what he could and bring him finger-foods- easy to eat while typing away and staring, staring staring.

He would receive cheeky letters from anonymous ( Jason ) persons and deal with his badly behaved Bat as best he could. Scolding the man for being unnecessarily cruel and letting his anger cloud his judgment. (And he would hope it would be enough for Jason, that his scolding would get through Bruce’s thick skull so that he might not make an ass of himself even more. That the crimes Bruce had committed against Jason would lessen rather than stack. That there might one day be a chance at reconcile. That Jason might one day come home .)

But for now he would do what he could. He would wait and he would serve, doing all the little and big things to help. He would keep the manor running even if no one but himself had set foot in it for some time. He would clean and sweep and cook and weed and dust and wash and do everything he possibly could to make the manor clean and welcoming and warm. All in the hopes that someday, someday , the family that had been so painstakingly built and torn apart here, might return. Rebuild.

That all his wayward children might call the manor home once more.

═════ ◈ ═════

Tim had come back to a mess. Alfred had warned him, greatly under-sold the mess- sure, but had still warned him. Bruce hadn’t said anything at all about what had recently been happening in Gotham, only that he needed help with multiple cases.

Bruce needing help with multiple cases was always a bad sign. But Tim had never imagined something like this.

His predecessor potentially coming back from the grave. And murdering people. And Bruce absolutely losing his mind about it.

It wasn’t all that hard, in Tim’s experience, to make Bruce lose his mind. He wasn’t a particularly mentally stable man in the first place. It’d been the whole reason he’d insisted so much about becoming Robin in the first place. Batman needed a Robin. A balance. Otherwise Bruce could so easily lose himself to his grief and get swallowed up in the darkness. He’d seen it first hand after Jason’s death. How he hit harder, cut deeper, and had less mercy for his rogues all around. An inexcusable use of excessive force- all in grief and anger and guilt.

Bruce liked to pretend that he had no emotions. The he had the control to shut them on and off at will. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. The man was made of nothing but emotions. Anger and grief and fear and, astoundingly, compassion . Yes, he was logical and could be cold, and he didn’t talk about his emotions very well. But Tim knew they were there, brewing under the surface.

Bruce could talk about detachment all he wanted. Talk about shutting everything off in order to make a deduction. But that wasn’t what made Batman a brilliant detective. It was his stubborn nature, his drive. His empathy. It’s what made him a hero .

And Tim admired that.

But it also meant cleaning up his messes sometimes, and Tim admired that much less.

He’d barely been given a ‘how are you, chum,’ before Bruce was racing off to find Ra’s and question him about Jason. Leaving Tim to investigate a possible new meta hiding out in Crime Alley. Working with Red Hood. Working with Jason. To puzzle out motive and power set. To find a way to neutralize him should he be a threat ( and Tim didn’t think about how callous that was, how cruel that would seem ).

And thus, Tim did what he did best. Chug a lethal amount of espresso and hack into every governmental database conceivable. He’d find something. He always did.

Except, hours later. He’d found nothing . Not a damn thing. No one outside of Gotham had any record of a glowing hazmat-clad meta that had green blood . He’d scoured any and all social media accounts across the world and no one had ever posted about it. No weird deep-web forum dedicated to sightings of the guy. No newspaper articles complaining about his presence. No tourist commenting about seeing him. Nothing. Usually with a meta like him, someone so conspicuous , there was something. A short video. A dedicated cult. A local news segment.

Anything about the guy was all from Gotham. All recent and none of it helpful. It didn’t explain where he’d come from . What he was capable of . Didn’t explain why he went by the name Fetcher of all things. Was he an alien instead of a meta? Had he been looking in all the wrong places this entire time, because they’d just assumed he was a meta when he wasn’t? Meta, alien, science experiment gone wrong. All questions and no answers.

Tim wanted to rip his hair out.

Bruce had said that it was definitely a hazmat suit, even if it was glowing and slightly customized. Customized to what conditions, though, was the question. Any lens footage had been corrupted so Tim could only rely on B’s overly detailed report for a description. A level B suit. So working with something that was a severe inhalation risk but less of a risk for skin contact. But the SCBA was described as something Tim had never encountered before. A lightweight tank connected to a full face mask and tinted eye-shield. Working with a substance that glowed ? Something that caused the glow that Fetcher let off? But the only things he could think of were either occult or radioactive, and if it was radioactive then he’d be wearing a level A suit. And the green blood. Bruce had described it as similar to Lazarus Water.

Tim shuddered.

What the fuck kind of lab accident might make you bleed death juice?

And then, miraculously, he found a lead. A pair of scientists that worked in hazmat suits that matched the description. He’d need confirmation from Bruce that they looked the same, but the tint to the eye-shield or goggles, despite not working with radioactive material was a big enough clue. The substance they did claim to work with didn’t make much more sense, though. Ectoplasm. From ghosts.

There was no way.

He refused to go down that rabbit hole without confirmation from Bruce. It didn’t matter how morbidly curious he was. He’d fall down that trail later if he wanted. For now he’d need sleep. He couldn’t go any further in his research and the lead he’d found was already slim at best. He felt like a failure, like he needed to keep going. But Alfred was already breathing down his neck about resting and there wasn’t much more he could do anyway.

He saved what he’d found on the Doctors Fenton and trudged up the stairs to his room in the manor.

He couldn’t do much, but he’d help where he was capable. Not with the main case. Bruce wouldn’t let him touch it. But he could look into the secondary one as much as possible on his own, he’d ask about the similarity in the suits and then keep digging himself. He didn’t want B to fall into the same spiral that he had before, to get lost in grief with no one to help. He would be the Robin to his Batman. His support. His balance.

What little help he could give, he would.

═════ ◈ ═════

Bruce would go to the ends of the earth if it meant righting his past wrongs. If it meant undoing the one mistake that weighed on him the most. If it meant bringing back his second ward, his second Robin. If it meant never having to go through the pain of having that little soul slip right through his fingers.

Nothing would ever change that though. Even if Jason was really back from the dead, it would not change the fact that he had died. That Bruce had lost him. Failed him. It wouldn’t change the pain that both of them had felt. The pain of dying. The pain of coming back. The pain of losing someone he never should have lost.

He’d made a promise . And he’d broken it. He was much more careful with those now. Much more careful with everything .

Except Ra’s’ skull.

He had the man pinned to the floor, unmerciful as he questioned the master assassin about Jason. About the sudden appearance of Red Hood. About Ra’s’ possible involvement in his resurrection and why he hadn’t done it sooner or told Bruce about it happening.

“You don’t have all the facts, detective,” Ra’s said, voice strained from the force of Bruce’s weight pushing him into the tile of his fortress.

“Then enlighten me,” he spat, knowing full well he was starting to let his temper get the best of him. He was better than this, but when it came to Jason- everything felt like it was too much. Like his anger and grief could boil over in an instant.

“The Waters cannot bring a person back from the dead!”

“That’s not a fact,” Bruce argued, trying valiantly to tamp down the fury that threatened to overcome him. “That’s a theory.”

“A well founded one,” Ra’s grumbled, indignant. Then quieter, “We tried to bring him back. Initially. Nothing was said about it because it didn’t work.”

Bruce lifted from Ra’s back and stepped away to give the man room to stand, watching intently for any sudden movements the entire time.

“Elaborate.”

“The boy died,” Ra’s began, brushing dust off his robes as he stood, “partially at my fault. I should never have worked with that mad clown in the first place, and the little Robin paid the price for it.”

Bruce stood in wait. He knew all this. Ra’s working with the Joker is what allowed the villain to capture Jason. It was a solid rule in the underworld of Gotham to never work with the Joker. He could not be accounted for, could not be controlled. Ra’s found that out the hard way.

“So, in order to rectify the mistake, Talia stole the body and replaced it with a convincing replica.”

Bruce closed his eyes and held everything in. He would not break here. Not in front of Ra’s. He’d been so overcome with grief when he’d dug Jason’s small little body out of the wreckage, that once he’d finally let it go- he hadn’t had the strength to look at it again afterwards.

“We dipped his body in the Pit,” he continued flippantly, “and nothing happened. We kept the body monitored for a time and then switched it out again after a continued absence of life.”

“So you wouldn’t know about a possible connection between the deceased Jason Todd and The Red Hood,” he stated.

Everything was slipping from his fingers. All his leads were turning to dead ends that didn’t make sense . He knew that The Red Hood was Jason. That was his Robin , returned from the grave. He could feel it, and there were so many clues that led to that conclusion. But they didn’t add up. Nothing was adding up. He felt like he was going insane, trying to shove together pieces that didn’t fit to complete a puzzle he already knew the answers to. He wanted to believe, more than anything, that Jason was alive, but he couldn’t trust that he was (because the disappointment would hurt him more than anything else if he wasn’t) because he didn’t have confirmation .

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Ra’s said, back turned to face the window and the red of the sun rising over the horizon.

“Explain,” Bruce gritted out for what felt like the thousandth time. Always asking for an explanation and never quite getting what he needed.

Ra’s sighed. “Jason Todd was found wandering the streets of Gotham,” he turned to give Bruce an inscrutable look, dark eyes heavy. “He was more akin to a walking corpse than a person. Running on instinct alone. We did not alert you to his resurrection because he was still not himself.”

“You don’t know how he came back,” he said more than asked. This was the more important question. How Jason could walk among the living so long after his death when Bruce would have done damn near anything to bring him back if he could.

“No,” Ra’s answered simply. “But a second dip in the Pit waters after he shambled in with Talia brought his mind back. Which was rather more of a miracle than his initial awakening.”

“Could the first dip have brought him back, but delayed?” None of this made any damn sense. This is why he hated working with magic and mystical things. They never made any sense.

The other man stared, hard and unforgiving. Irritated. “I have worked with the Lazarus Pits for a very long time. And yet I am still no closer to answers for questions such as yours. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“You can’t confirm, definitively, the reason Jason Todd came back to life.”

“No,” Ra’s said with a sneer, body tensing to strike. Bruce had overstayed his welcome then. “That’s for you to puzzle out, Detective.”

Bruce turned and left. There was nothing else he could gain from interrogating Ra’s and inciting the man’s temper. Bruce’s own was on a hair-trigger as it was. He would begin his long journey back to Gotham, only partial answers acquired and more questions whirling in his head.

There was little he could do now. He needed to get back to his city, regardless of what was happening with Jason. Regardless of if he’d come back as the Red Hood or not.

There was little he could do to make up for all the ways he’d failed his second Robin, all the things he hadn’t done in time, hadn’t done when it was needed. But he’d do every small thing he could, now . As Batman, all he’d ever been able to do was small things. One criminal apprehended here, one rogue put back in Arkham or Blackgate there. But the city was still torn apart, citizens still ended up dead. Like putting a band-aid on a gaping chest wound.

He’d never fix everything, but he’d do damage control.

═════ ◈ ═════

Jason wasn’t much of a fan of waiting. Not when he was so much closer to executing the best part of his plan. He knew where the Joker would be soon. He had everything he needed ready. He would capture the crazy clown, beat him near to death with a crowbar to see how he liked it, and then set him like the spring in a trap. Bruce would be back from whatever jaunt he’d fled the city on and he’d be able to goad the big bastard into a chase.

Then he’d snare him and finally get the answers he’d so desperately been wanting.

Why hadn’t Bruce killed the Joker already? And what would it take for him to do it?

What would finally make the Big Man snap?

But first he had to catch the clown. He didn’t know what Harley was up to or what the party she’d mentioned was all about- and maybe he was being hasty in planning to just barge in guns blazing without gathering more information. But he was already antsy. He wanted this done already. He wanted to make Bruce choose . Either Bruce would finally kill the Joker or Jason would die by the man’s hand. Again. He would make Bruce suffer the choice, make him realize the severity of his decision to keep the mass murderer alive. Jason hadn’t been the only one killed by the clown, not by a long shot, and people would only keep dying if he was still free.

The Joker would find his end, one way or another. Jason would make sure of that- even if it had to be from beyond the grave again.

If Bruce chose to kill him instead of the deranged clown- Jason didn’t really know what he would do, but at least he’d have his answer. That Bruce had cared for whatever asinine definition of justice he had more than he ever had Jason. That Bruce cared more for his own personal morals than actually doing something to save the people of the city he’d sworn to protect.

He didn’t have confidence in which answer Bruce would choose.

Waiting also had the downside of giving him time to think . Something he currently didn’t want to do. Not when it made him reflect on his own mistakes. Made him reflect on the ways he’d hurt Fetcher so badly.

He regretted his actions in the dojo that day. But he knew he couldn’t take them back, couldn’t take back the tears he’d caused the other to shed. He was supposed to be better than that. To not let his paranoia get the best of him and allow him to hurt the ones he cared for, they way Bruce often did. It hadn’t taken very long for Jason to go back through everything that had happened with Fetcher and realize that he had severely jumped the gun.

He’d come to trust the kid way too fast, sure, but that wasn’t the other’s fault. He’d been desperate for an ally and he’d seen just a bit too much of himself in the poor soul he’d saved. He’d wanted to protect Fetcher from a fate like his, but all he’d ended up doing was hurt him.

But his eyes- the green- the sharpness there-

Jason paused where he stood in his kitchen, hands gripping the cast iron skillet just a bit too tight. He could hear the metal creak under his grip, likely to snap if he didn’t relent. The kid’s eyes had reminded him too much of the Pit- of when he’d died and come back. Of the torture of resurfacing to a new world he didn’t understand.

If Fetcher had been working for Ra’s he’d been doing a poor job of it. It took Jason far too long to realize that. No movement from Talia or Nanda Parbat. No whisper of activity from Ra’s. Nothing at all to indicate that Fetcher was one of their agents. Whatever mess the kid had gotten himself mixed up in, it wasn’t necessarily connected to the League. And Jason had yelled at him. Called him a monster. And all he’d done- was cry.

Jason was the monster here, not Fetch.

He was likely better off sulking in the graveyard Jason had found him in anyway. It would have only been a matter of time before Jason turned on him. Or did something else to get him hurt, get him killed. Like father, like son.

When Nadi had come to yell at him about Fetcher’s disappearance, it had been something of a relief. Even if she had kicked him in the balls, it was still good to see that someone cared about the kid. Someone good . Someone that could help him where Jason couldn’t. And when she’d come back a second time to demand that Fetcher be allowed back into Crime Alley, he’d reluctantly agreed. He couldn’t face the other after everything he’d said and done, but he wouldn’t banish him for Jason’s mistakes.

He hasn’t seen the other since then. But he knows that he’s in the area. Seen the faint glow of the other brighten a dark alleyway, trailing after Nadi like he used to trail after Red Hood.

Jason shakes off his thoughts and goes back to cooking. Only to realize that he’d made two servings.

Silently, guiltily, he packs it away. He’ll hand it out to the first person he sees once he leaves for patrol (no use in good food going to waste- even if his first instinct is to trash it). The sight of it made him sick.

He’d have to live with what he’d done and that was that. There was little he could do to fix things. Little he could do to help. But he’d keep his distance and let Nadi take care of Fetch where he’d failed so spectacularly. He didn’t want to face the other again, and it made him a coward- but he didn’t want to risk hurting the other more than he deserved. He’d already done enough damage.

( You’re too angry, Jason. You take it out on the wrong people. It makes you reckless. You’re going to get an innocent person killed one day because you couldn’t control your temper. This is not why I let you become my second Robin. You’re benched . Indefinitely. )

Jason was far from perfect and he knew that. But he’d take his imperfection and still try where he could. He’d fix the city, little by little. Build it up where Bruce couldn’t and clean it out where Batman wouldn’t.

Even if he died again proving his point to Bruce, even that little bit, would help in its own way. Make Bruce see where he’d gone wrong or else prove where Batman was failing. If the bastard was too stubborn to see that Jason was right about this, then Gotham had long been doomed anyway. His second death wouldn’t change that.

All he had to do now, was wait.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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