Tumgik
#it was good until he started blaming himself for the >>incident<<
zeynyukine3011 · 2 days
Note
Some Tim stans are acting like Damian fans are just mad Damian messed up and are insisting it is fine for a character to mess up. But Damian isn't messing up for his own character. This isn't for Damian to learn or grow. It doesn't even align with how Damian would reasonably mess up. This 'mess up' is most likely to sideline Damian for Tim. This is really obvious. Damian shouldn't have in character trusted Zur but he did so Tim can be the good Robin.
EXACTLY!!!!! I've seen several posts about how Damian wasn't OOC and he was "just a child who wanted his father's approval"
People who say this apparently didn't understand Damian's character.
Damian is the child who found his father's identity from a crowd without knowing anything about him. He understood that imposter Insomnia wasn't his father and immediately stabbed him with a sword.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Damian is clever, smart and cunning. In Batman and Robin (2011) he tricked both Batman and Nobody. And neither of them suspected anything until Damian revealed it himself.
But in Zur arc, Damian is just there to look dumb so he can show how "smart" and "perfect" Tim is. Beacuse Chip Zdarsky is basically screaming about his fanboying Tim.
As you just said, this is not something Damian would do. This is not a "mistake" that Damian can have. This incident does not, under any circumstance, add anything to Damian's character development. We have seen, since 2016, that Damian's development he had over the years were thrown to trash. All DC wants to do with him is to be villain.
I was actually starting to gain hope with Batman and Robin (2023) since Damian is not a villainized there (But I don't like how Williamson writes Damian either but at least he is better than Zdarsky. But that's another story.). Unfortunately, however, Damian is still contiuned to be used as a villain, a demon child who always makes stupid mistakes and causes disasters in return.
Like I said in my previous post, Damian will have to apologise for "the things he have done". And, once again, he will be shown as a dumbass who doesn't understand obvious things, and doesn't think the consequences of his actions.
If Damian was written in character, Damian would've notice the moment he laid his eyes on Failsafe, that it wasn't his father. Damian would've become a double agent. He would've secretly make plans to defeat Zur from inside.
Yet, with this writer, we will have a heroic Tim while down grading Damian.
Damian is only there so that Zur can have an evil sidekick and thus, DC can have their "Good B&R vs Evil B&R" fight.
I used to like Tim, actually. I thought he was cool and had potential and could be good brothers with Damian. But in last years, writers always downgrade and badmouth other Robins (particularly Damian) to shine the spotlights to Tim. And while Tim has awesome moments with Bruce, while he saves him, Damian has a horrible relationship with his father. Bruce tells him that even though he loves him, he doesn't like Damian, or just how brash and cruel Damian is, or blaming Damian for Alfred's death etc.
Tim can be written as a good Robin, and for this, DC doesn't need to sweep the floor with the other Robins.
78 notes · View notes
daytaker · 4 months
Text
The Gang React to You Ignoring Them
Lucifer
"How childish. They'll have forgotten by the end of the day."
By the end of the day, however, Lucifer has reached his fucking limit. But his pride will not only prevent him from begging you to knock it off-- it will prevent him from even acknowledging in your presence that he is remotely bothered.
He probably goes to vent to Diavolo -- that is to say, visit him for tea and offhandedly comment about your immaturity for pulling such a stunt, knowing that he'll just contact you and beg for him.
Mammon
"Oh no you don't! MC! MC! MC! MC! MC! Hey! MC! MC! Hey! MC!"
He will follow you wherever you go. At first he thinks he's hilarious, being an absolute pain in the ass, but the longer it goes on, the more dejected he gets. His energy level tanks and soon he's just lying on top of the nearest piece of furniture and whining for you to stop it.
If you manage to get him off of you long enough to escape him, he will just text you.
Mammon: MC Mammon: MC Mammon: Hey MC Mammon: Hey Mammon: MC
If you block him, he will just text someone else until that person becomes so annoyed that THEY beg you to stop.
When you finally give in, he pretends like he didn't even care that much. It was just a little joke between pals, right? Haha!
Leviathan
"So this is how easy it is for you to just toss me aside like a piece of garbage."
Levi will take this extremely personally. Depending on why you're ignoring him, he might blame himself and enter a spiral of self-hate. He'll hole up in his room, refusing to leave until you finally come in and either apologize or forgive him, whichever is appropriate.
He'll spend a few moody minutes acting like it's too late for that, but soon he'll be on the verge of tears, making you to swear on a copy of The Tale of the Seven Lords that you will never pull that kind of thing again.
Satan
"Really? Is this what it's come to? You understand how pathetic this makes you look, don't you?"
Like Lucifer, he won't be too bothered at first, assuming you'll get over things relatively soon. But if nothing has changed within an hour or two, he'll start to get testy. He'll send a text, sit in the same room as you and stare a hole through your head, and if you're still ignoring him after a while of that, he'll storm up to his room.
Depending on how emotionally charged the incident was that led to you ignoring him, he will be more or less capable of fending off an explosion of temper. Most likely, any acknowledgement you toss his way will ease the tension, so it might be a good idea to just shoot him a text asking him not to destroy the house, please.
Asmodeus
"But it's impossible to ignore me! You can't look away from a face like mine! See?"
I don't think you can ignore Asmo. Being the literal Avatar of Lust with powers to charm and an intense need to be admired and adored, he simply exudes an aura that demands attention. You should probably come up with a different strategy of attack.
Beelzebub
"...Are you mad at me?"
Why would you do that to him? How could you be so cruel?
If you did do it, it would probably confuse and sadden him. Confusion and sorrow both make him feel hungry, so he will go ahead and start eating his feelings within an hour of the silent treatment. Even if you're content to allow this to continue, the other six demons in the house aren't, and you will ultimately have no choice but to make up with Beel.
Belphegor
belphie.exe has stopped responding
Considering you'd already forgiven him for the whole murder thing, he can't comprehend how you've become so mad at him that you'd go so far as to give him the cold shoulder. He won't know how to respond at first, but he will quickly become an angry, sulky ball curled up under the blankets on his bed. If it takes more than a few hours for you to come crawling back to him, things will start to change. Belphie will return to the common areas of the house, acting mostly the same as usual, and he will not spare you a second glance. Even if you stop ignoring him, well, two can play this game, and Belphie is absolutely petty enough to drag this one out.
After a day or two of you trying to talk to him, he'll relent. He'll feel kind of guilty, having worked through most of his anger while ignoring you. He'll probably text you a lot for the next day or two, just to ease some of his anxieties.
Diavolo
"I don't understand."
You can't do that. That's illegal. Next character.
Barbatos
"Hehe. What a troublemaker."
Barbatos likes it when you ignore him sometimes.
Barbatos will not change his behavior at all, ever. You could spend the rest of your life ignoring him, and he would simply accept it as one of those unfortunate circumstances life sometimes throws his way. He would prefer it if things didn't go down that way, though. Basically, he'll let you come to him whenever you've gotten over whatever it is you're upset about. What a king.
Solomon
"Hmm? Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Solomon will act pretty much the same as usual around you too. He'll point out that you're ignoring him to whoever else happens to be around and bemoan the situation, but he won't actively appeal to you. Instead, he'll orchestrate a scenario that traps you in a situation where he is the only person you can go to for help. As soon as you do that, he'll act as if nothing ever happened. If you resume the silent treatment, well, he can always come up with another scenario.
Are you still sure it's a good idea?
Simeon
"I didn't realize you were so upset. I'm sorry (that/if) I hurt you."
Simeon will either immediately understand why you are doing this, in which case he will apologize (using "that") or he will have absolutely no idea what's going on, and he'll still apologize (using "if") to be on the safe side.
If you don't show any signs of breaking, he'll enlist Luke's help to make you an apology dessert of some sort. And how can you stay mad at him when he's offering you angel food cake with such a sad expression?
Luke
😧😠😣🥺😢
Wh- Whaaa...?! How dare you ignore him! That's so mean! It must be all the demonic influences rubbing off on you! Stop it! Stop it or he's going to tell Simeon!
And then he'll go and tell Simeon. Simeon will probably tell him to just wait until you've calmed down. If he thinks you're being unreasonable, though, he'll probably have a talk with you himself. Really? Pulling the silent treatment on an actual child? Sure, he's a millennium old, but he's still a child.
2K notes · View notes
pocketramblr · 13 days
Note
Please!
AU where both Izuku and Bakugou are rejected from UA Hero Course.
And to make it juicy. The reason for the rejections is the suicide baiting incident being known by UA. While Bakugou is rejected for obvious reasons. Izuku is rejected for his ‘own safety’ and because they won’t trust his psyche went unscathed.
1- The thing about Bakugou is that he was not particularly well liked by his classmates at Aldera. Oh, he had friends, and no one was willing to stand up to him, but plenty of students had grudges about how he acted. They rolled their eyes when Bakugou went on a rant about being the only one who could make it to UA, or his lackeys hyped him up, but then they'd look away without a word when he caught them and glared. No one was going to say he wasn't powerful and couldn't do it, just like they weren't going to say Deku had any chance. Sometimes, capable people are also very annoying, and you just have to deal with that, so the kids did. And if a few were in a small group chat that would sneak pictures or videos to show the kids not in their class and complain, well, that's what the kids did. And then one day, one filmed the conversation after school, after Bakugou threw out the notebook, and posted it publicly, as well as in the chat.
2- nothing came of this. Izuku had either blocked or been blocked by a lot of his classmates online, and hadn't really bothered to look for most of them anyway, so neither he nor Bakugou are aware of the video. The sludge villain sort of happened an hour later, and that's what got the big media buzz- the news couldn't publish the names of the teens involved if they ever even had them, but locally, people at Aldera knew who the kids on tv were.
3- the next year, UA has its recommendation exams. Every student is meticulously background checked before even being accepted as an potential for the exam and interview. A couple weeks later, they have the standard exam. The background checks will happen after this- UA after all has a very prestigious image. Bakugou wasn't wrong that if he took his lackey's cigarette and UA found out, his chances would be gone. Unfortunately for him, the video was still online. Mostly forgotten about... Until it contained not one but two potential UA students.
4- Nedzu and the six hero course homeroom teachers are on the board of student admissions, but so are two others each from administration, public relations, the school board, and the heroics commission. The top fifty scorers are ruthlessly picked through. The video is watched. Some want to exclude Izuku, some Bakugou, some both. Nedzu would prefer to have them both enrolled in separate classes, but is outvoted. He doesn't warn the board this will mean All Might will not be staying on to teach - he really can't, without telling secrets, but he does warn All Might the next night, and gracefully accepts his resignation.
5- a week after the exams, acceptance and rejection letters are sent. These are simply written on paper. Apparently neither of them are a good fit for the school. No further reason is given. Bakugou spends one day in his room, quieter than ever, then rush applies to other schools. Shiketsu is supposed to be UA's equal. Perhaps their admissions process will be less rigid. Or perhaps his rise to number one is "supposed" to come from humble starts, and Aldera Middle School wasn't that, but some mid rank hero school is. Meanwhile, on the beach, All Might tells Izuku that he actually ended up with the most rescue points in the exam, and his score was high enough to place him in top ten... It was just the screenings afterwards that did it. Perhaps the school was concerned about his health, with him breaking nearly every limb. Or perhaps his incorrect quirk registration was a red flag- either way, it's things All Might blames himself for, Izuku is the one who passed the test, and with only a few hours of having OfA too. So All Might asks Izuku what he wants to do- try for another hero school nearby? Toshinori probably can't get a job there on short notice without being suspicious, but he'll work to train him every day after, and come up with some other excuse for why he's in the field less. Or, should he reach out to I-island? Toshinori's even willing to see about setting up a personal internship with himself or Gran Torino, though he really kinda hopes Izuku doesn't pick that one. Izuku bursts into tears and apologies, having only held them back this long out of shame, they hug, and Toshi tells Izuku to take his time deciding, it'll be all right, because Izuku is here and he has full faith in him, regardless of what UA admissions thinks.
544 notes · View notes
trippedandfell · 1 month
Text
stop the world just to stop the feeling
The night before Maddie and Chimney's wedding, Buck and Eddie talk on a balcony. | 1.5k | buddie | ao3
Eddie’s just uncapped his second beer when he hears footsteps behind him, so familiar he recognizes who it is by sound alone.
“Hey,” he says, as Buck sidles into view, arms coming to rest on the balcony railing beside him. He’s got a drink in his hand, too - one of those fruity vodka seltzers that Eddie’s reluctantly started stocking in the bottom drawer of his fridge. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Buck fiddles with the tab on his can, the silver of it reflecting in the moonlight. “Something like that.”
His shirt is slightly too big, slipping down just enough to expose the sharp jut of his collarbone, the dark bruise forming on the edge of it. Eddie’s eyes fly to it without permission, and Buck flushes red. 
“It’ll be covered by the suit tomorrow, promise.”
“Mm.” Eddie takes another sip of his beer, ignoring the sour way it curdles in his stomach. “Good. Think Chim’s one incident away from going full groomzilla.”
“Can you blame him?”
“Not at all,” Eddie admits, and Buck huffs a laugh. “You should have been me the night before Shannon and I got married. I was a wreck.”
He’d been alone, in the shitty little apartment they’d rented once they learned about Christopher, Shannon spending the night at her mom’s across town to help them cling to some ragged sense of propriety that neither of them truly believed in. It had been one of the most awful, stomachache-inducing nights he’d ever had up to that point in his life, and it wasn’t until he saw Shannon in the church the next day, glowing in a way that had nothing to do with the bump hidden under the folds of her white dress, that everything had finally clicked into place.
“Hi,” she had said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, and Eddie had let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Buck’s staring at him now, as if he can sense the myriad emotions playing out in Eddie’s head. “It’s so weird,” he says. “Maddie and Chimney have basically been married for a while now. But all of this just makes it feel so real.” He gestures a hand at the expansive hotel grounds, the ocean beyond. “I mean, my parents are here.”
Eddie knows. Eddie had done an exceptional job at ignoring them at the rehearsal dinner that night, tucked in the corner by himself, Marisol having gone to their room earlier with a headache.
He feels a brief, guilty flash about leaving her alone now, although she’d been snoring when he’d crept past Chris on the sofa bed and out into the light of the hallway. He wonders, idly, if he should have left a note.
“They seem to be behaving,” he offers, which is about all of the goodwill he’s able to give the Buckley parents at any given time. Buck makes a face at him, and he adds, half-teasing, “for now.”
As far as he knows, they haven’t said a word so far to Buck about Tommy. He should probably ask, but somehow he can’t make his mouth form the words.
Buck drums his fingers against the balcony, quiet. “Do you ever think about it?”
What, fighting your parents? Eddie almost jokes, but he knows that’s not what Buck’s asking. “About getting married again?”
“Or getting married at all,” Buck says, and there’s something in his face, something suspiciously like longing, that has Eddie taking another gulp of his beer. “Like, big reception, flowers. The whole nine yards.”
“I wouldn’t do a big reception,” Eddie says, shuddering. “Just in the backyard, or something.”
Buck cracks a smile. “You do have a nice backyard.”
“You’re just saying that because you did all the landscaping,” Eddie says, bumping their shoulders together. “I had to weed it the other day though, so I should at least get partial credit.”
Buck looks sheepish at that, which wasn’t what Eddie was going for, but also wasn’t not what he wanted to happen. “I meant to come do it this week, I’ve just been -”
“Busy,” Eddie finishes for him, which isn’t fair, not really. Not when Buck is still over at his house most days, not when he hasn’t missed a single one of his afternoons out with Christopher. It’s just that there’s now a new purple marker in his kitchen, carefully outlining Buck’s availability on the calendar.
Eddie’s never had to schedule Buck in before. Not with Taylor, or Natalia, or even Ali, way back when. 
Combine that with the fact that Buck’s now asking about marriage…
Eddie drains the last of his beer. “You should get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Buck agrees, but stays where he is, shoulder still pressed against Eddie’s. “Hey - uh. We’re good, right?”
“Buck, you’ve already apologized.” And grovelled, and apologized again, until Eddie was back from medical leave and working with the 118 again.
“Not about that.” Buck shakes his head, the movement bringing him closer to Eddie still, their forearms nearly overlapping on the railing. “I mean - about me. And Tommy, I guess.”
And Eddie - Eddie will be the first to admit it took him a second to come to terms with it, to fully wrap his head around the idea of Buck with a man and, more specifically, Buck with Tommy. But he’d hugged Buck, and stumbled his way through some approximation of support, and then gone home and researched until his eyes were burning and he’d bookmarked every tab he could find about bisexuality and being a good ally - so. He thinks he’s been doing okay, overall. Certainly not poorly enough to make Buck question if he’s been harbouring secret homophobic tendencies all this time.
“You know I’m good with that,” he says, and means it. “And you and Tommy seem - really good. So if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Buck’s eyebrows crinkle together, and Eddie has to resist the fanatical urge to reach over and smooth them out. “I know. I know you are. But something else just seems - wrong.”
“With me?”
“With us,” Buck says, voice veering toward frustration. “Come on, Eddie. You know you feel it too.”
Something thumps in Eddie’s chest, like his heart is suddenly trying to beat out of his chest. “Buck, I promise nothing’s changed-”
“But something has,” Buck says. “And I don’t know what, and it’s driving me insane, and every time I’m at work or at the gym or even with Tommy-” Wait, what? Eddie thinks, panicked -  “I’m lost in my own head, wondering how the fuck I managed to mess up the most important relationship in my life.”
“You didn’t fuck anything up,” Eddie says, honest. “No one did. It’s just - growing pains. You’re in a relationship, I’m in a relationship - it’s natural that we maybe don’t come first for each other anymore.”
Buck stares at him, the corner of his eyes suspiciously red. “We both know you don’t actually believe that.”
He doesn’t, but they’re veering into dangerous territory now. “Buck-”
“Why is it different now?” Buck says. “We’ve both dated people at the same time before. Taylor and Ana, Marisol and Natalia. Why is this different?”
Eddie doesn’t feel like he’s capable of breathing. “Buck-”
“It’s not because I’m with Tommy,” Buck says, raking a hand through his hair. “Or that I’m bi. It’s not actually any of it, is it, Eddie?”
He doesn’t sound angry, just - resigned. Tired. The beer bottle is clammy against Eddie’s palm. 
“You never answered my question earlier,” Buck says. “About if you would get married again.”
When Eddie speaks, his voice feels like sandpaper. “Maybe. If it was the right person.”
“Is Marisol the right person?”
“Is Tommy?”
Buck flinches, minuscule. “I asked first.”
“You know what my answer is, Buck,” Eddie says, and he’s tired, so tired. 
“You know mine too,” Buck says, soft.
He does know. Just like he knows Buck’s favourite song, favourite dinner, favourite feel-good rom-com. Just like he knows that Buck will spend all of tomorrow night dancing with Tommy, but he’ll save one dance for Christopher, spinning him around the middle of the room while Eddie watches. Just like how he knows -
“Eddie,” Buck says, and Eddie realizes how close they are now, facing each other with the moon still high overhead, lips a hairsbreadth apart. “We can’t.”
Eddie can feel Buck’s exhale against his lips. “I know,” he says. Taking a step back feels like swimming against a riptide, but he manages to get his limbs to cooperate eventually. “We should head back in.”
Buck swallows, chin bobbing as he nods. “Yeah. I’ll - uh. See you tomorrow?”
There’s something here, slipping out of Eddie’s grasp. He doesn’t think either of them knows quite how to cling on to it. 
“See you tomorrow,” he echoes, and then Buck’s turning toward the door, back to the hallway that’ll lead him to his room, to Tommy in his bed.
Eddie waits until he’s fully out of sight before he follows.
also on ao3!
---
tags: @leothil @sibylsleaves @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @deformed-globule @cantyouseethatyouresmotheringme @silassstingy
409 notes · View notes
souliebird · 5 months
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 12||
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11
Words: 5k
banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Even in the middle of the night, the heat of summer in Hell's Kitchen is oppressive. It doesn't help that there is a storm rolling in and it is so humid Matt feels like he's breathing in water. Sweat is pouring off of him and he's glad he opted out of wearing his red armor - he has the feeling he would have overheated within an hour.
The only good thing about it pushing eighty degrees at two am is that only people that have to be out are out. Even though it is Saturday night/ Sunday morning, the streets are empty and Matt has only encountered people on their way back home. He hasn't even needed to scare off any muggers or stop any break ins. In fact, all he has really done all night is track people to make sure they got to their destinations safely.
There was a small surge of people around midnight coming off the trains and they had been rowdy, but hadn't caused any problems. Matt quickly worked out they were part of the protesters who have been crowding outside the courthouse for the past few days and deemed they were not a threat to his beloved city.
He's spoken to a few of them while at the courthouse and he fully supports their cause and their right to protest. Admittedly, Matt is not one to stay on top of current events, but he thinks it is suspicious that the government will not reveal what caused the massive explosion in Connecticut. It's been weeks but instead of answers, it feels like everything about the incident is being shoved under the rug and Matt knows if it was closer to home, Karen would be chomping at the bit to investigate.
Over six hundred people lost their lives and no one is being brought to justice for it. They are saying it was an attack, but no one is claiming ownership or being blamed for the destruction. It makes him angry, and though this isn't his fight, he'll do his part protecting the voices in his community who demand the truth.
Tonight, it seems like his community is safe and Matt will be able to get more than two hours of sleep before he needs to go to Mass. He needs to do a final pass around the neighborhood before he turns in for the night, so he pushes himself up from where he has been crouching like a gargoyle and stretches his limbs. His knees pop and his back screams at him and he decides that despite the heat, he will take a scorching shower to soothe his muscles. He may not have gotten into any big fights the past few nights, but that doesn't matter to his body - it's always aching and throbbing in one way or another.
He pulls his mask down over his face, hating how it instantly makes his forehead sticky and wet, and starts his loop.
He starts at the top of 10th and weaves across and down until he passes Foggy and Marci’s apartment. He pauses across the street and crouches down as he tunes his ears to their bedroom. They are both in a deep sleep and there is no threat he can detect, but still he stays for a minute just to be sure. Daredevil may have complicated his best friend's life, but Foggy has never had trouble making his own enemies. He may not be a vigilante, but his sense of justice is just as strong as Matt's and that has caused people to come at him violently. Someone breaking in is not out of the question.
Marci has her own enemies but if anyone ever tries to come after her, well, Matt will pray for their soul because not even he is that self-destructive. She once made a joke about becoming a crime lord and he still has the occasional nightmare over it.
Matt scans the surrounding buildings for any problems once more before he starts off towards Karen's place. She was still awake when he last passed her building and the odds of her still being up are pretty even. He wouldn't be surprised to find her typing away at some article - stirring up the pot as always. He loves her for that personality trait, even if it mentally puts him through the ringer with worry over her - he supposes it is nothing compared to what he does to her.
But luckily, for the collective sanity of Nelson, Murdock, and Page, more people care about Karen's well-being than care about Matt's.
He knows she has Jessica's number on speed dial - letting them meet is one of his greatest regrets in life. He is well aware of the cameras set up by Frank's computer friend and while the Marine is out of town, he's left her with another layer of protection - his dog Max.
Not that Karen can't take care of herself.
If she and Marci teamed up to take over Manhattan, Matt doesn't know if he could stop them.
Maybe he'll tell her that for her birthday - it will make a better gift than anything he'd be able to think of.
Matt lands on the roof of Karen's building, relieved to find she has gone to sleep since he last checked on her. She must have let the dog get in bed with her, because it's snoring is making it hard for him to tune into her without concentration. She's safe and seemingly happy, so he lingers only a moment before resuming the last dredges of his patrol.
He heads down to the docks next. There are people there, but they are meant to be - prepping for the fish markets and early morning cargo ships. These are good, hard working men who don't dabble in things that would make the Devil hunt them. In fact, he's got a good contact in one of the fish mongers, who will let him know if there's been anything suspicious in the wee hours of the morning. He doesn't need to check in now, as there have been no whispers as of late, and he disappears back into the shadows of the city to head towards Clinton Church.
Matt's stomach turns as he gets closer to where he grew up. His feelings about the location and the people there have been a ridiculous rollercoaster since he found out he was a father.
He deeply misses Father Lantom. Despite what everyone has told him, he firmly blames himself for the man's death and does not understand why God made that choice. It hurts that he isn't here and Matt can barely bring himself to go into the church - he's only started to re-attend Mass since learning about Minnie to seek guidance from God about this new path. He'd give anything to be able to speak to the man who mentored him in life - to hear what he would say about Matt having a daughter.
It isn't that Matt dislikes the new priest - he just doesn't like him. He's resistant to change and it should be Father Lantom giving Communion and taking his Confession.
It should be Father Lantom who Baptizes Minnie, not this man Matt has never even spoken with.
Maggie is trying to get Matt to interact with the man, but his relationship with her is going through a rocky patch and he hasn't actually spoken with her in about two weeks. She hasn't done anything wrong - he is just having an internal crisis over how learning he is a parent changed him and his abandonment issues. He's spent a lot of time in reflection and understands why she left him and his father, but he now has a renewed anger at her for not telling him the truth sooner.
Did she not love him like he loves Minnie? Was it something he did wrong?
Will she love Minnie like she loved Matt? He trusts her to care for his daughter, but will she love her granddaughter the way she deserves to be loved?
Everything is made more complicated over how guilty he is over having these feelings and so, instead of talking to his mother, he's been avoiding her. He knows he needs to eventually address it, but for the moment Maggie is none the wiser about his mini-me.
He'll tell her after he tells you about her.
It is something he needs to do still - it just hasn't come up yet. Most of your conversations center around Minnie and you are still getting to know each other. You've shared few stories about your childhood - mostly about school - and Matt isn't so sure how your anxiety will handle Maggie. His mother is a good person, but she is a lot and he knows you have your own parent issues.
Like at the docks, there are people active at the Church. A few homeless patrons are seeking shelter before the rain and there is a nun tending to their needs. The kids are safely tucked into bed, and while it sounds like a few are having nightmares, there is nothing he can do for them at the moment.
If they wake and cry out, he prays their calls are answered.
Matt practically flees the sacred grounds and his anxiety only settles once he crosses into Chelsea.
As he runs, he hones his senses to the apartment building you live in. It is easy for him to lock onto - he's already spent countless hours perched on the boundaries of the two neighborhoods listening to you and Minnie sleep. He knows it is creepy, but he cannot help himself.
Minnie’s laugh is his new favorite sound, and not far behind it is your heartbeat. Much like his daughter, he's found himself focusing on it when things get too much and it is the perfect way to end patrols - winding down while you and Mouse dream.
You mumble in your sleep and it is the most endearing thing he's ever encountered. He likes to respond to your strange statements, imagining he's right there in bed with you. There has been a recurring theme of parrots and he is thinking that the bird exhibit will be off limits during Minnie’s birthday trip to the zoo, based on what he's heard.
But it isn't you mumbling in your apartment tonight - it's Minnie.
His daughter is awake and has moved from the bedroom to the living room. The television is on - playing what he thinks is Sesame Street - and she seems to be fussing with a toy. Context clues tell him she's playing with a doll or stuffed animal - dress up is one of her favorite games and he knows it is one of her Quiet Games.
“Nexts,” she says sweetly to her toy, “we gotta do your make ups.”
Matt decides to wait until he's landed on the roof before he makes her aware of his presence. He kneels and takes a moment to center himself, taking a deep breath to do so. He focuses on calming the Devil in his chest - this is the first time he's caught Minnie awake in the middle of the night and he needs to address it as Matt and not Daredevil.
He doesn't want to scare her, after all. She'll probably be very confused as to why he's there and being scared won't help anything.
“Minnie, sweetheart, can you hear me?” He asks, keeping his voice soft as possible as he does.
To her credit, she doesn't start at all. It takes her a moment to process, but then she questions, “Daddy?”
The name makes his heart soar - everytime she says it, he breaks into the biggest smile. It is the sweetest sound and the fact she switched to calling him that all on her own means the world to him.
She wants him to be her Daddy.
“Yeah, sweetheart, it's me. What are you doing awake?” he questions, smiling as he hears her get up and start to walk around. He wonders if she is looking for him and his guess is confirmed when he hears her start lifting things up to look under them.
“I'm watching Cookie Monsters,” she replies and Matt chuckles. He thinks it is so adorable she is also so direct with her answers. She always answers exactly what is asked.
“I don't think it is time for Cookie Monster, Mouse. I think it's sleep time. Mommy is sleeping.”
You are in a deep sleep, your breathing slow and even. He can tell you've been exhausted lately and probably need the sleep. More than once he's found you awake during his patrols. If Minnie tried to wake you up, you probably weren't responsive and she had left you to sleep.
She peters her way back to in front of the television and plops back down after checking under the dining table. Matt waits for her to respond, knowing sometimes it takes her time to form what she wants to say.
“I can't sleep,” she mumbles, upset clear in her voice, “there's a monster.”
The Devil flares up inside of him and he instantly scans the area for a threat. There are few people awake in the area and he focuses in on them - none of them appear to be any sort of danger to his daughter. At the moment.
But they could have been earlier. They could have woken her up by doing something horrible. A mugging. Domestic violence. Something worse.
He curls his lip into a snarl.
He'll find whoever upset his daughter and drive them from his city. The state.
It's a miracle he manages to keep his voice calm and gentle, “A monster?”
“A monster,” she confirms sadly. Her breathing becomes muffled and Matt figures she has shoved her hand into her mouth to self-comfort.
“Can you tell Daddy about the monster?”
She sucks on her fingers and with her free hand, pulls her toy into her lap. He wants to push her to tell him, but he knows he can't. She's not a witness or a suspect - she's his daughter trying her best. He can tell she wants to answer, he just needs to be patient.
“He ran really fast,” Minnie starts to say, barely taking her hand out of her mouth to do so, “and went eek-eek-eek and smelled like poopy-butt.”
The words baffle him and Matt knits his brows - this monster was close enough for Minnie to smell him? The monster in his chest snarls and he has to fight to keep his composure. He knows Minnie is locked onto him and if he lets his rage show, she will know and she will get scared.
He needs to protect his daughter. He needs to believe God will not test him in this.
“Minnie, sweetie, can you tell Daddy where the monster is?”
Her little head turns up to face exactly where he is standing, asking in a small voice, “are you gonna fight him?”
The Devil roars ‘yes’, but the Father in him says, “Do you want me to?”
“Mommy scares him away,” she advises hesitantly. He can practically feel the nerves radiating off of her and it makes him clench his fist.
Matt doesn't understand. This has happened before?
Then it beams him in the head like a baseball and Matt feels like a complete idiot.
Minnie is a toddler. Her monsters are shadows, creaky pipes, and the four legged creatures in the city. Those are things that no longer register on Matt's radar but she hasn't learned to tune them out yet. Of course she would be scared of those things - Matt was scared of those things when he first got his senses and he was much older than Minnie at the time.
He remembers his first phone call with you and how it ended - something about Monster Repellent.
“I can go scare off the monster - would you like that?” he asks, the Devil in him settling down now that he knows no one is trying to hurt his little girl.
He doesn't know if it's Minnie sensing his shift in mood or if she didn't want him to fight the monster and scaring it away is what she wants, but she untenses her shoulders and her hand comes out of her mouth.
“You'll scare him away?” She asks after hugging her toy right to her chest.
“I'll scare him away,” he quickly promises.
“He smells like poopy-butt,” she repeats and Matt wonders if she is making a stinky face. That is something you tell him he and Minnie share - a certain curl of their lips when they find something unappealing.
“That's okay, sweetie, I'll make him go smell bad somewhere else. He won't bother you,” he says. “Can you tell me where he went and I'll go chase him away.”
Finally, she points down towards the alleyway between her building and the neighboring one and adds, “He can climb walls. Like Spidey-Man.”
Matt resists the urge to huff over the mention of the other vigilante. He has met the kid twice before and his biggest take, besides it was a kid under the mask and that had been its own thing, was that he needed to learn how to throw a proper punch. It confirmed for him all that Avengers training and showboating really meant nothing and they really were better off fighting aliens and wizards than helping out real people.
“Don't worry, Mouse, I can climb the walls, too.” He's definitely letting his Pride show through, but if he can't show off for his daughter, who can he show off for?
He makes a quick map in his head, then goes to the edge of the roof. Minnie’s head is still angled up towards him and she ‘watches’ as he parkours down to street level. If he adds a few unnecessary flips, well, that is no one's business but his own.
Once he is on the pavement, he opens his senses to the things he normally blocks out. The city becomes far more lively around him - cats, raccoons, birds, dogs, all sorts of bugs and things he doesn't like to think about. There's yowling and chirps and suddenly so much more movement, most of it under his feet.
Mouse’s monster is easy to find. It is a disgustingly large rat that has built a nest of trash and grime under a dumpster. The thing has a respiratory infection, which has it wheezing and rattling and he very much understands why Minnie was scared of it. It is not a pleasant sound and the infection is not at all helping how the creature smells. Animals smell at the best of times, but this rat clearly enjoys the sewers and ‘poopy-butt’ doesn't begin to cover how rancid it is.
Matt starts to work out what he needs to do to make sure this sick rodent stays far away from his family. If it has a nest, it will come back, so he needs to destroy that - without damaging the animal. He doesn't have the heart to actually hurt the thing.
He pulls out his billy clubs and snaps them together to make a bo staff, then moves to crouch in front of the dumpster. “Okay, sir, I'm here to evict you,” he says, more for Minnie’s benefit than anything. “You gotta go.”
He jabs at the nest of wet cardboard and almost immediately, the rat scurries out and hisses at him. It snaps its jaws at him a few times instead of running away and Matt huffs at the display, turning his staff towards the creature and swatting at it. “Get out of here.” To its credit, it tries to fight him, biting at his billy clubs and screeching at him, but after a few good thwacks to its side, it realizes it has no chance against him and dashes toward a nearby grate.
He listens to it go down into some pipes and once it's out of range, he tilts his head up towards Minnie, a smile starting to form in his lips, “The monster has been vanquished, my princess.”
His words make her giggle and he can't help but chuckle as well. He hears her push up into standing and she toddles towards the window. There's a table in front of it, so he knows she can't see out of it, but he knows she's trying to find him.
“He's not gonna come back?” She questions and in response he starts to break up the nest. He spreads the trash around, knocking things down and away. It's not a big very big rat den, relying heavily on the dumpster.
“He's not, he's gonna go find a new home,” he promises as he works, and once he's satisfied with his destruction, he collapses his billy clubs and holsters them. He pushes up into standing and steps away from the trash can.
“Far away?” Minnie asks and his heart breaks for her. The stupid animal must have terrified her.
“Very, very far away.”
He locates the fire escape and starts to scale it back up to your apartment floor. As he does, he starts closing off his senses again. Things begin to fade into the background - the things he will need to start teaching Minnie. She's got a good handle on it already, having learned to function with it instead of needing to adapt.
He's so proud. So unbelievably proud.
She's such a good and pure child. She always wants to help and asks about other people. She may be shy, but she's empathetic.
You've taught her well.
Matt understands how Minnie is a mini-him in her abilities and mannerisms due to those abilities, but her sweet nature is from you.
He knows he's gone for you.
Foggy has pointed it out. Karen has pointed it out. God has smacked him in the face with signs.
His realization moment was hearing a man purchasing an engagement ring for a woman who shared your name. He had gotten so furiously jealous he had to go take it out on the punching bag.
Foggy laughed so hard at him.
He doesn't think you noticed at all. It is nothing against you, he completely understands. You are like him - you don't think you deserve love. You had been painfully shy your first night together, as well, and he had been charmed by it.
He's angry at himself for letting you be a one night stand.
He should have been there when you needed him most.
He's not going to fuck that up again.
He pulls off his mask before making a show off popping up in front of your window and Minnie dissolves into giggles.
“Hi, Daddy!” She waves at him and he can tell she is absolutely beaming. He eagerly waves back and he knows he's matching her smile.
“Hi, Mouse.”
“Why are you outside?”
He's planned for this. He has discussed this with Foggy and Karen at length. He did the unthinkable - he asked Frank - who apparently knew who Minnie was before either Foggy or Karen did. They had attacked the question from all sides. As the firm. As friends. As parents.
They couldn't lie to Minnie. Matt can see the signs she's picking up on what different heart beats mean. She's going to know and there's nothing they can do to hide it. She can hear all of Hell’s Kitchen just as well as he can. It may not happen until she's older, but she'll figure it out.
So, he's not going to lie to her. He thinks you would approve. You don't like lying to her - you soften the truth into something she can comprehend. He's going to follow your lead.
“I'm working,” Matt answers, crouching on the rails and resting his wrists on his knees. He's suddenly very glad he had a very boring night. “What are you doing inside?”
Mouse accepts the answer and hugs her toy to her chest, swaying side to side “I'm talking to you.”
He laughs at her utter sweetness. She giggles along with him.
He gives a fond shake of his lead, then leans forward so she can see him a bit better, “What should you be doing, sweetheart?”
She scrunches up her face as she thinks, then she falls into a pout, “Sleeping.”
“Yeah, you should be sleeping. You're going to be tired tomorrow. It's not going to be fun,” he gently warns. He knows it isn't her fault, but he knows it will eventually help her learn to push those noises to the background.
“Okay, I'll go bed. I gotta clean up first. Mommy says …Mommy says don't leave it until morning. You'll make morning you sad. Be nice to morning you,” she recites, patting her hands against her stuffed animal - it's not Scooby or Pig. (He doesn't know this one. His best guess is it's a Raggedy-Anne type princess doll. His little girl loves princesses - no specific one, just the concept and aesthetic.)
He loves the values you are instilling in her. He's going to steal this mantra and tell it to Foggy and Karen.
“Okay. I'll keep watch for any monsters,” he tells her. This is one of the reasons he wants her to know the truth. He wants her to know her Daddy will protect her from all of the monsters.
“Okay. Thank you. Love you!” She chants, then turns away.
“I love you, too, Mouse. So much.”
And he will tell her every chance he gets.
She carefully walks back to where she had been sitting and turns off the television, then goes to put her toys away. Like always, she's very methodical about what she does. He could spend hours watching her play. She fascinates him. She picks up one toy at a time and tells it good night as she puts it back into her toy chest.
She doesn't have much to clean up and when she finishes, she turns to face him.
“Will you tuck me in? Please? Thank you?” Minnie asks like he can say no.
“Of course, my love. Are you all ready for bed?” He questions as he hops down onto the fire escape - one of the screws holding it together shakes and he decides he'll come back another night with a wrench to tighten everything up.
“All ready!” she confirms and he can tell she's watching him with great curiosity.
He begins to run his fingers over the edges of the window, searching for a way in. You certainly don't make it easy - you invested in apartment security and it takes him a moment to disable it. He's careful as he slides the window up and pops out the screen. He slips into the apartment, then quickly closes the window behind him, leaving the screen on the floor.
Minnie has the decency to wait until that moment to run to him with open arms. Matt scoops her up, swinging her a little before putting her on his hip and once she is settled, he leans down to press his forehead to hers.
“We have to be quiet, okay? We can't wake up, Mommy,” he tells her and she quickly nods in understanding.
He doesn't know what he'll do if you wake up and find him in your home - but luckily you are still in a deep sleep. As long as Minnie keeps calm, you should stay lost in Dreamland.
He kisses her forehead then starts towards the bedroom. She returns the affection, planting a big kiss on his cheek before she gently smacks him in the face with her doll with a quiet, “mwah!” Then, she flops against his shoulder, using him as a pillow.
He has to fight back a pleased huff - his little angel is so sweet. He'll never get sick of getting kisses from her toys - it's so loving and innocent and he is greedy for any and all affection.
Your bedroom is a good twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the apartment - there's a fan going and accompanying it is a little window unit blowing in cold air. It feels like Heaven in the blistering heat that is the rest of the city. The chill seems to suck the consciousness from Mouse - she gives a big dramatic yawn, smacking her lips against his neck. Her body slumps into him and he rubs her back encouragingly.
He crosses the room carefully, hyper aware of any toys that may have found their way to the floor post-bedtime. It absolutely breaks his heart to have to pull her away from him and she does try to stay clinging to him - not fighting him just resistant - but she ends up in her bed and under her covers. He doesn't know if he would have had the strength to force her to let go if she really did want to stay in his arms.
He helps her adjust her sleeping headband so it is around her eyes and ears, then kisses her cheek one final time, “ready for sleep?”
The response is a barely there nod and Matt can't help but feel so much love for his daughter. Being able to conk right out as soon as she's comfortable shows how much she trusts him. His little girl is always so wary and subtly alert.
He's going to cherish this moment forever.
“Love you, Mouse.” He whispers.
“Luvo, Daffy,” is what it sounds like she says as she rolls to bury her face into her pillow. A moment later she is snoring.
Matt allows a few tears to fall before wiping them away and turning his attention to you. You have nested yourself under your blankets, breath hitching every so often. He's learned over time from various people this usually means bad dreams - not nightmares but things that can leave you shaken.
He doesn't dare move closer to try to soothe you with touch - that would certainly wake you up.
Instead, he promises, “I'll chase all your monsters away, too.”
tags:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
 @petrovafire39 @allllium
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 
@
two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13
 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday
541 notes · View notes
thegnomelord · 5 months
Note
Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.
I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.
Once again good soup!
Tumblr media
Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE
Prompt: Hug from behind
CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.
Tumblr media
Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.
Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.
You're not even sure when or why it had started.
It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.
None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.
Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.
Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.
You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.
Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.
You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"
You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.
"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.
Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.
It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.
Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.
It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).
Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.
"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.
"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.
"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.
Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."
You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.
You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.
He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.
You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.
"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.
And, Hell, Graves gets it now.
He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.
And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.
"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.
"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.
"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"
You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.
"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.
"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."
"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."
He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.
"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.
The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"
622 notes · View notes
neo-nomatrix · 11 months
Text
Rule No. 19
never fall in love with the same person twice, the second time you’ll be falling in love with the memories not the person.
Miguel O’hara x reader
Tumblr media
word count: 1056
synopsis: You were Miguel’s wife in another universe and he just can’t come to terms that you’re not his.
a/n: i know a lot of people are asking for part twos of my other stories but i just can’t think of anything 😭
Your death was a horrible day for Miguel. He easily blamed himself for what had happened to you. Shot twice by a random mugger off the side of the street. And he, Spiderman of all people, couldn't save you. How could he even call himself a hero after that? He held your lifeless body in his arms as he came to terms with the incident.
Miguel wouldn’t allow your killer to get away. Chasing him down the block, cornering him in an alley and slowly, almost torturing, beat the life out of him. Miguel tore at his skin with his claws, used all his strength to break his teeth, and practically ripped off the man’s hand from the wrist.
Miguel so desperately wanted him to feel pain he would do anything. But that wouldn’t bring you back, and he knew that.
Miguel had fallen in love with you for many reasons. You were beautiful, smart, funny, and the kindest person he had ever met. He knew that if you saw the person he was now you would not have fallen in love with him. When he looks at himself in the mirror he doesn’t see the man he once was, he doesn’t see the man you loved but a distorted ugly image of that man.
He knew he had changed for the worse but truthfully he didn’t care. If changing meant he got what he was after he didn’t care how it made him look.
The first time Miguel found you in another universe he was ecstatic. You had a family, a beautiful daughter and a life worth being a part of. “Your” Miguel had recently died and he thought he could replace him.
“Oh, I'm so glad you’re home. I was starting to get worried,” You kissed your husband as he walked through the door.
“Im here,” Miguel whispered as a response.
He didn’t know what to do. You were there, in front of him. Alive.
He pulled you in for the strongest kiss he had ever given you. You were slightly shocked but melted into the kiss with such love. Failing to see the tears building up in his eyes.
You were happy, so happy. Until the day it all came crashing down on him. Your world started to collapse within itself, Miguel felt like Atlas trying to hold up the universe on his shoulders. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. Running from an inescapable situation with you and your daughter. You fell to your knees as you were running. You were glitching. Slowly, in the most painful way he could imagine both you and your daughter disappeared from his arms.
For the second time Miguel lost you, and it was his fault. From then on he vowed to only watch you from afar.
“She isn’t yours, Miguel,” Jess reminded him for what? the tenth time today?
“I know that Jess,” he practically rolled his eyes at her.
“Y’know it’s creepy. You’re basically stalking this girl who has no idea you exist. There are just some things you have to let go,” She offers her advice.
Miguel clenches his jaw at her words.
“I don’t need a therapist, alright? I’m fine dealing with this,” he says.
He’s had enough of Jess and her advice for today. Even though he won’t let himself interfere he can’t help but watch you from the rooftops. He agrees that it’s creepy but he can’t let anything else bad happen to you, he just can’t.
From everything telling him not to, he swings down to try and get closer to you. He enters the coffee shop you just went into. He doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t be here behind you in the long line. It’s not right. He’s about to turn before he’s greeted with your sweet voice. Your voice that sounds like honey and all the good things on this planet and the next.
“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering what you usually order? I’ve never been here before and I'm sort of lost,” you giggle. God, he could melt on the spot.
He knows you're lying, of course. He’s seen you in here more times than he can count. And you always get the same exact thing, every single time. In fact, you refuse to get anything different. He wants to believe you’re asking him as a way to flirt but he can’t get attached, not again.
“Oh uhm, i usually get their vienna latte,” His eyes flick up to the first thing on their menu, never having gone to this shop himself.
“And then their bear claw,” if there’s one thing he noticed about you it’s that in every universe you love a bear claw with your drink.
“Great! I’ll get that then!” You smile happily as the barista asks for the next person in line.
He didn’t realize how in love with you he really was until he spoke to you all these years later.
“Do you maybe want to sit down together? I know a park nearby,” You approach him after both of you have gotten your drinks.
“I’d…” he trails off remembering Jess’ words. He can’t, he shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. “I don’t think I can. I’m really sorry,” he feels horrible after seeing the look on your face. He wants to crumble up into a million pieces seeing you disappointed like that.
“No worries then. It’s okay,” you smile kindly at him. A clear tinge of sadness in your voice.
You walk off leaving him there unsure of his choice. Would one conversation really do anything? Would it tear the world apart like last time? Was he willing to risk it just to talk to you again?
The truth was yes, he was absolutely willing to risk everything for the chance to have you fall in love with him again. But he couldn’t do that to you. He stands there, heartbroken for a third time.
Even though he loves you he’s well aware you’re not his, not really. He knows that if he were to fall in love with this version of you it would be compensation for what he had lost. He would simply be trying to recreate something he couldn’t have.
Miguel loves you, but he can’t have you.
2K notes · View notes
mvskedxrtist · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Big Needy Wolf
Tumblr media
Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: PwP, Mommy Kink, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Edging, Hypersensitivity, Praise, Overstimulation
Nᴏᴛᴇ: Last one before the new year I guess! Thank you guys so much for the 100 followers!! I'm so glad I've been able to satisfy the doms around. For right now, enjoy and sorry if Jack is OOC. Also if this is a weird plot, don't blame me, wolves usually have their heat/rut in February/March so yeah. Count this as an very early Valentine's Day smut.
AFAB!Reader x Jack Howl - The Big Needy Wolf
Tumblr media
Ah Valentines Day. A holiday no one in Night Raven College usually considers. Why would they, it's all boys there until that year where Y/N showed up and so came a few more girls in all of the dorms. Yet Y/N was the Prefect of Ramshackle. But let's ignore that and get back to the present.
You've been dating Jack ever since the Octavinelle incident. The both of you had gotten closer while trying to figure out how to get your friends out of their contracts. And from y'all being close led you you both getting together before he left for winter break.
Getting back from winter break lead to the Pomefiore incident. But this happened in the middle of that!
While the Adeuce duo, Kalim, Jamil, and the Pomefiore trio were staying in Ramshackle dorm since you were their manager, you actually were in Savanaclaw having a date night with Jack. You both were watching a movie while cuddling each other an you were glad after how busy you've been that you get to spend time with him.
Jack was happy he got to spend time with you, his girlfriend, at the same time he's been having his rut and having you so close to him made his senses go off in the sense that he wasn't able to control himself and started humping your leg.
You could feel him grinding against your leg and blushed furiously but looked over at him and kissed him gently. "Such a needy wolf.. What's going on babe?" You asked Jack gently while he looked at you with lust, grinding against you more as he slowly tried to get off of his arousal. "D-damn it.. It's my rut~" Jack muttered gently a bit embarrassed but looked at you and kissed you passionately while your hands scratched the back of his ears.
"The big needy wolf wants to fuck me so badly huh? My how much of a pervert you are~ But I won't let you hold it for much longer~" You chuckled and started kissing him passionately while taking each other's clothes off.
You were riding on his lap with your hands on both sides of his face, kissing each other passionate. Jack was feeling a rush of satisfaction and held you close while letting you ride him endlessly. The pleasure felt amazing to him, it was almost like he was– "Fuck! Mommy I need to cum~" He groaned and begged you, you looking at him with a sinister smile.
"Aww~ not yet~" You smirked and lifted yourself off of his cock, moaning softly while the wolf boy whimpered, his ears down slightly as he looked at you. "C-cmon, M-mommy~ I need this so badly~ I wanna cum in you so badly~" Jack whimpered and tried to grind against your slit, moaning under his breath. "You wanna make me have your pups?~" "Y-yes please mommy~"
"Ok then~" You smirked and slammed yourself back down on his cock, both of you moaning loudly while he held onto you close. You kept riding his cock quickly and could feel Jack twitching inside of you, kissing his neck to tease him a bit before looking at him. "3...2..1!~" You counted him down before you felt him cum inside of you, moaning loudly while looking at Jack. You could see him in a daze from cumming inside of you.
"That's my good boy~" You smiled and kissed his cheek, sitting up and running your fingers through his hair while letting him rest... Before you started grinding your hips against his and riding his cock again. Jack's eyes went wide and he started moaning again, looking at you confused but excited.
"N-nghh~ h-hhah~ Mommy, what are you doing?~" He moaned out while watching you just pleasure yourself on his cock. You gave him a small smirk and giggled. "Aren't you the big needy wolf?~ Don't you need to cum and cum until there's nothing left?~"
230 notes · View notes
invaderzia1 · 9 months
Text
Horns (Wyll x Tiefling!Reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
After breaking his promise to Mizora, Wyll navigates life as a brand new Tiefling. Luckily for him, he has support in his tiefling friends.
yes I’m aware the game isn’t out yet but I really liked that scene with Wyll and Mizora. Also this is set in act 1
Since disobeying Mizora, Wyll had been rather moody. Nobody could really blame him, not after the way she stormed into their camp and basically turned him into a tiefling, laughing about how some magic even she can’t fix. She left him with rather hefty horns on his head, leaving him to figure out how to navigate life with them by himself and laughing about how it’ll affect his reputation as the blade. So nobody was surprised when the heavy horns caused Wyll to struggle with his balance and maneuvering through his recent days, but they rather kept to themselves, all having other things to deal with then offer support to the poor man.
Except, you had been watching him. You had always found him quite charming and handsome, it honestly made you quite glad that he accepted traveling with you and the rest of your companions.
It had been a week since the incident and you’ve kept a close eye on Wyll, giving him space to process everything. But being a tiefling yourself, you couldn’t help but notice the lack of care he is giving his new horns. You knew what happened when people didn’t take care of them correctly, having suffered the consequences of failing to properly take care of your own.
Wyll is stood by the river near camp, having finished cleaning himself and getting ready to join the others for whatever food Gale decided to cook up. He barely even notices you sneak up behind him, too busy staring at himself in the reflection of the lake, still not used to his visual changes.
“You know, you gotta take care of them.” Your voice startled Wyll, causing him to jump slightly before turning to look at you. “Can’t just pretend they aren’t there or they’ll grow weird or get too brittle.” You moved closer to him, trying yo be cautious around him while assessing his new horns. “Kind of hard to tell right now what they’ll do, but I have some extra things if you need them.”
“What?” Wyll says in disbelief, almost self conscious about you having noticed how poor he’s cared for them the past couple days.
“If you don’t take care of them they might start grow weird.” You walk over, trying to get a better look at how his horns seems to be growing. “Or, they’ll become brittle and start to chip off.” Reaching up, you cautiously bring your hand to his right horn, but refusing to touch it until Wyll gave consent.
It takes Wyll a few seconds of going through his emotions before he leans his head down, letting you touch his horns. Your hands touch softly against it, standing on your top toes to get a better look at where they meld into his head. Then moving to look at the sharp tip of the horn.
“Hmmmm,” you let your feet fall flat again, letting go of Wyll, “I have an extra pad to smooth it down. They look healthy, but you are going to have to be careful of them getting over grown.”
“Like a sheep?” His voice comes out as a mix of surprise and disbelief, raising an octave.
“Yes,” you smile, finding it a little funny how that’s the only comparison he could think of, “like a sheep.”
He makes a noise of annoyance, accompanied by the sound of your laugh. As he looks up at you, he takes notice of your broken horn, recalling Karlach also has a similar situation. It feels rude to just ask, but he feels the situation permits it.
“May I ask what happened to your horn?” Wyll nods his head to your broken horn, instinctively your hand goes up to touch the nub.
“Oh this old thing,” you start, laughing a bjt to yourself as the memory surfaces in your brain, “fun story actually, when I first started traveling I didn’t have enough money to keep my usual tools with me. So I went without taking care of them. Ended up in a fight against a lone gnoll, thing got a good grip on my head and just took the rest of my horn off.” You can’t help but laugh, knowing to everyone else that seems wildly traumatic, but so much time has passed that you feel disconnected from it. “Luckily, I was able to even the score. We both left that fight pretty fucked up.” Your hand falls to the necklace around your throat, decorated with teeth that Wyll is now able to identify as gnoll.
Wyll’s mouth drops horrified for a brief second, then letting air escape his nose as he starts to laugh. It’s a weird and fucked up thing to bond over, but for the two it seems to work. As the laughter dies down, you put a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait here, I’ll go grab my bag and help you with them.” You say, then running back towards camp, leaving Wyll slightly flustered by your kindness.
You rush back, a brown bag tightly held in your hands as you come back. You gently lead Wyll to a large rock by the water, patting it for him to sit down, which he does. Placing the bag next to him, you jump onto the rock and kneel behind him, just like your parents used to do for you when you were young. Reaching into the bag, you pull a small vial of a yellowish liquid and a round brown pad.
“Alright, now this is horn polish, you can find it in most market places or you can make your own.” Your hand snakes over his shoulder, showing him the vial. “It goes on before you use this,” your other hand goes over his other shoulder, reveal the coarse rough pad of material. “This will help you buff out your horns and keep them looking smooth.”
Your hands disappear behind him, he can hear the vial open behind him and then feels your hands softly applying some of the liquid to his horns. You take great care in making sure you cover all of them, then wiping your hands off on your bag.
“This is going to feel kind of weird the first couple times, but it’ll get better, I promise,” you warn him, giving him a few seconds to brace himself.
The feeling of the rough pad against his horns is awkward and uncomfortable, almost like hearing nails on a chalk board. Wylls teeth grit together as he clenches his hand together, trying to brace himself as you go to work. He feels your body get closer to him, trying your best to comfort him while using both hands on his horns. You try your best to be both thorough while going quickly, recalling how much you hated this when you were a kid. To try and distract him, you opt to speak.
“When I was a kid, my dad used to help me with my horns. He was always better at this part than my mom,” you admit. “I used to start crying when she would do my horns for me because she was so rough with it. If I saw her with the pad in her hand I would immediately start crying and run off, trying to hide. She’d always find me though.”
“Really?” Wyll chuckles.
“Yeah. Looking back, I feel kind of bad about the trouble I gave her when she was just trying to help me. But at the time it seemed like a reasonable response.”
Wyll and your laughter blend together, the mood becoming more light as you continue to work on his horns. He starts to tell you small bits of his teen years, talking about the trouble he used to get in.
“Alright, now that we are done with this part, it’s time to move on to the finish touch,” your voice announces, slowly putting the used product back into the bag. You pull out another bottle, this one looking more clear than the polish, but a thicker consistency. Your hand rests on his shoulder, leaning over as you show him the bottle more. Wyll feels his heart rate pick up feeling you this close to him, but watches as you start to explain this product. “This is your last step, it’s a protective coating to keep your horns shiny and helps strengthen the keratin.”
“So, I just slather it on them?” Wylls face turns slightly to look at yours.
“Yeah, you don’t need much either, it spreads like crazy.” You lean back, popping the bottle open and reaching up to his horns again.
Slowly, your hands start to rub the oil onto his horns, being as gentle and smooth as possible. It grows quiet as you concentrate on keeping the oil only on his horns and making sure it’s spread as thin as it can be. Wyll, on the other hand, grows quiet as he enjoys the intimate position you are in. It’s been years since he’s felt this close to another person, having spent years to following Mizora closely. He allows himself to drift closer to your touch, feeling more at ease now than he has the past couple weeks, possibly even the past couple years.
“And that should do it,” you reach down and wipe off your hands on your bag. Wyll snaps back to reality, giving some space between you. You smile softly down at him, then gesturing from him to look at himself in the lake.
Wyll stands up and takes a few steps, looking down at his reflection and seeing how nice his horns now looked. Moonlight now illuminated them from the shine, its a small change but it makes him feel warm. It’s the first time since becoming part infernal that he’s felt content with his new appearance.
Wyll looks back up at you, still looking amazed by the work you had done. He takes a step closer, putting a hand on your shoulder as he speaks.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, I know it’s been tough for you.” You smile softly at him.
Wyll moves closer, as if he wants to lean closer. You prepare yourself for him to do so, your body leaning closer to his until a loud voice interrupts the both of you.
“Are you two done down there or should we just eat without you?” You both hear Gale ask, followed by comments from Shadowheart and Astarion that you most certainly don’t need to hear to know that its innappropriate.
Now both your cheeks flush red, flustered by being caught by the rest of the group. As you hear Astarion make one more comment, you start running up the hill and threatening to grab your a stake for him. Wyll just stands there, watching you as you start to argue with Astarion, hearing Shadowheart and Karlach laugh at the display. His heart fills with warmth as he looks back at his reflection in the lake, seeing the way his horns now shine with the moonlight. Grabbing your bag, he slowly makes his way back to camp.
333 notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 6 months
Text
Wing Man Part 5
Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
Chapter Summary: Ranting about Ozzy Osbourne counts as flirting, right?
5.7 words
(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)
a/n: I wanted to get this chapter out before Flight of Icarus on Halloween. I am MILKING that preview we got for all it's worth. I want y'all to know in this chapter I am projecting HARD on what I think the book will be like and how it will affect Eddie. Also say thank you to @hellfiredarling and @crocwork-clockodile because without them, this wouldn't have gone past 2 chapters. Also shout out to @hellfiredarling for letting me borrow her OC Tara for this fic as well. 💜
WARNINGS: This chapter discusses the Ozzy Osbourne Bat Incident. Nothing is really talked about in graphic detail, but I figured I'd throw that out there, just in case.
Tumblr media
Eddie Munson would never consider himself a homewrecker. He was a lot of things; a freak, a metal head, the occasional dealer, a musician, but never a homewrecker. 
But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy flirting with you as Steve was right there. Steve hadn’t even made any sort of move to make it clear that you were actually on a date anyway. Eddie had expected some sort of reaction from Steve from the banter that bounced between the two of you, but he’d only sat back and watched. 
You were far too good for Harrington anyway. 
But he could have figured that out the second time the two of you had met so many years ago. You didn’t remember Eddie, and he didn’t blame you too much for that. You had been in a rough state that time, shaken up and worried out of your mind. Hell, Eddie himself could barely remember the first meeting it had been so long ago. 
He couldn’t help himself though, not when you showed an interest in his band, his club, and (he was starting to hope) him. The back and forth between the two of you had excited him. He swore (lied) to himself that he was only flirting and chatting with you to annoy Harrington, and the last thing he had expected was for you to start flirting back. It was night and day compared to Sidequest Day. Eddie completely forgot about Steve the second you mentioned WASP as a favorite band. He probably could have stood there all night, asking you how you fell into the genre, what songs you add to your mix tapes, and bragging not-so-subtly about his band and guitar skills. 
But reality always shows up, and Eddie was needed to fix the amp again. It was old and beat to hell and back, but it was all he could afford to fix. A new amp would always be out of the question unless the Hideout decided to start paying the high schoolers for their performance every week. 
He made his way to the van to grab his toolbox (Wayne’s toolbox, but he insisted that Eddie keep it in his van) when he realized that he was an idiot. Shit, he’d offered you a ride home, and he was really hoping you’d take him up on that offer, intoxicated or not. 
The back of the van was gutted, making it far easier to transport Gareth’s drum set, the amp, and all of their other equipment to their weekly gig. There was even room for two of his friends to (very illegally) sit back there while one person sat up front with him. 
Would you even want a ride home like that? Eddie had no problem forcing everyone else to ride in the back while you rode shotgun. Then it was the long ride to Gareth’s place to drop everything off, then dropping off Jeff and Zack. 
He could drop you off first, but that would defeat the purpose of offering you a ride. 
Shit. 
Whatever, he’d wing it. He’d figure out the details later after the show. Right now he had to fix the amp again and focus on the music. 
There was a moment before every show, when the janky spotlights would turn on and temporarily blind Eddie, that transported him to another world. Any time he picked up his guitar, be it his electric one or the acoustic, he could feel a charge in the air. Music was as natural as breathing to him, something that just was. 
Someone once asked Eddie, why music? Why this music? 
Because it’s fucking badass. Because it’s an escape to a different world, a different dimension. 
When Eddie played, he didn’t have to be in Hawkins. He didn’t have to be a freak. When he felt the sharp strings press into his fingers he became a Rock God. His music made him feel badass, indestructible, a fucking hero in his mind. 
During a really good show, Eddie could lose himself completely. He could imagine that there was a large crowd cheating his name, his band. The sound of his guitar screeched like a demonic bat, and he could imagine that the audience was looking through a portal to another dimension, watching as Corroded Coffin used their music to kick ass and take names. 
Eddie never thought about what it would be like to look through the other side of the portal. To look back and see someone looking at him the way he imagined it. That was, until the first song started and his eyes met yours through the near empty bar. 
There was a smile on your face, and an intense look in your eyes as you watched him play. The excitement in your eyes couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. It was the same look that Dustin had given Eddie the first time he made the kid a mix tape, it was the look that his bandmates had when they booked their first gig ever that wasn’t some talent show or open mic night. 
It was the look Eddie had when he held a guitar for the first time. 
Sure, Eddie had fans. At least 5 people would drunkenly cheer for him on Tuesdays. They were mostly older though, blue collar workers who were reliving their youth through Corroded Coffin. Occasionally he could even have a semi-coherent conversation with them about music after the set. Not often though. The sets usually ended with high fives from the band, maybe a pat on the back and a beer slipped over to Eddie. 
The way you were smiling up at him was different though. Even with the drink in your hand you were alert and paying attention to every song and every lyric. Eddie’s voice wasn’t the most well-trained but he let his guitar do most of the work. As they worked through their set, his eyes kept falling back to you. Of course it was easy, considering the fact that you were a cute girl sitting front and center, and most of his other ‘fans’ were by the actual bar on their fourth or fifth round for the night. 
Paige had once mentioned off-handedly that he had the look and the stage presence. She’d even said that he looked good once and that was a compliment that he had ridden the high of until everything came crashing down again. When that dream disappeared along with her, Eddie had gone back to just being the Freak of Hawkins. But, fuck, when you were looking at him like that he could almost believe it again.
When the echoes of the final chord faded into the air and the portal closed, Eddie was left smiling at the one person in the bar that bothered cheering like they meant it. You. 
He took his pick and tossed it to you, and you caught it between your hands like you had with the air hockey puck just a few days ago. Eddie felt a sense of pride as your cheeks darkened, and he hoped it was because of him and not the drink you had been nursing for the past hour. Your eyes darted between him and Steve- oh right. Harrington was here too. Right. 
Eddie turned away and started helping with packing up. The sooner they got the equipment to the van the more time they would have to hang out before curfews for everyone else hit.
During the summer they had gotten away with staying out a bit later, but it was now the school year. That meant they had about twenty minutes to mingle, pack, and head out. The last thing he needed was to piss off Gareth's parents (again) and lose their place to practice. 
Eddie was already on thin ice with the parents of his bandmates and club members, except for Zack’s. He wasn’t gonna push it. 
With everything tucked securely back in his van, Eddie made his way back inside to find you.One of his regulars gave him a clap on the back for a good show and handed him a beer which he gladly accepted. He should back off, stay away when every time he’s seen you in recent memory was with Steve Harrington. But when he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the table still fiddling with the pick between your fingers and finishing off your drink he couldn’t stay away. Steve was nowhere to be found. 
“So, did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked, taking a seat next to you. You had been lost in thought and jumped slightly. When you realized he was there, you smiled at Eddie as if he was the one person you wanted to see in all of Hawkins. 
“Holy shit, you guys are good!” You said brightly. There was the tiniest slur to your words, made noticeable by how fast you were talking. “Your amp makes a weird sound with your guitar but I don’t think that’s a bad thing and you were going so fast! How’d you get your fingers to do that?!”
Eddie laughed and had you been in a more sober state of mind he might have made some sort of dirty joke about that. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid, and I practice so much it’s second nature to me.” 
You glanced at his calloused fingers and nodded, before looking back at your own. “I don’t have the finger dexterity for that.” you said, moving your fingers around. “See? My pinkie is kind of fucked up.” You gave your fingers a wiggle and your pinkie definitely moved in a more jerky fashion than the rest of your finders. 
“It’s because you don’t use it enough.” Eddie said, grabbing your pinkie and shaking your hand around, making you laugh. “Just start playing guitar for about four hours a day until your fingers bleed and I’m sure you could fix it.”
“That sounds like a lot of work that I don’t have the passion for, so I think I’ll leave all the fingering to you-” You closed your eyes and took a very deep breath as your brain caught up to your mouth. Eddie watched in amusement as you slumped your head to the table. “Can I get a do over?” 
Despite the embarrassment you were laughing, which Eddie took as a good sign. His next move was risky, but he was going to go for it. 
“If you had a g string I could show you how to finger it.” 
“Nooooo!” you groaned through your laughter as you sat back up. “Low hanging fruit, Eddie! That was too easy!” 
“You handed that one to me on a silver platter! I don’t think I’d be allowed to play guitar anymore if I didn’t go for that joke!” Eddie said in mock offense. 
“Eddie, did you know that when you order one drink here, they actually give you three drinks in one glass?” you asked, motioning to your empty cup. “Because I did not.”
He looked over at the bar, and then back to you. “Sam’s working. Yeah, he’s pretty heavy handed with his drinks. Are you good?” 
You gave a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I can’t drive probably but I’m not blackout wasted or anything.” There was still a slur to your words, but your eyes were still alert enough that he felt confident that you weren’t going to make any decisions that weren’t completely your own.
“So how come I’m the one who offered you a ride home and not your date?” Eddie didn’t want to bring up Harrington, but curiosity always got the better of him in one way or another. 
“Date?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization dawned on your face. You looked at Eddie with such intensity that it made him feel nervous for a second. “I am not dating Steve Harrington.” There was firmness in your voice. “He’s dating every other girl in Hawkins.”
“Do you... want him to be dating you?” Eddie wasn’t sure where you were going with this and he took a sip of the beer that he’d been neglecting for the past few minutes. . 
“Ew.” 
That one word had him nearly choking on his beer as it went down the wrong pipe. He made a strained sound between a cough and a laugh and you smacked him on the back a few times with concern before he waved your hand off.
“‘Ew’?” He managed to finally choke out, looking at you in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that you and Steve Harrington just happen to hang out but you aren’t dating?” 
This had to be a joke, some sort of prank where Harrington would pop out of the bathroom, throw his arm around you, and laugh at Eddie for believing for even a second that someone as cool as you was single. 
“We’re just friends and we have a kind of deal going on.” you said, messing with the ice in your empty glass. “I help him and he uh...” Eddie watched as you hesitated and your mind looked for the words. “He helps me get out of the house.”
“I thought you said coming out was your idea?” Eddie tilted his head, watching as your expression changed to one of a kid who’s hand was caught in the cookie jar. 
“I lied.” You said bluntly. “I had no idea about you playing or that you had a band or even that the Hideout had any live music ever. It was Steve’s idea.”
Eddie watched your expression carefully for any sign that you didn’t actually have feelings for Steve. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, knew better than to get his hopes up. The Munson’s weren’t exactly known for being lucky in love, and he was no different. Eddie could count on one hand the amount of times he’d had any sort of romantic connection to a girl and most of those had crumbled to dust in his hands. 
“Harrington brought you here?” He said slowly. “To get you out of the house?”
“I pretty much live at work and home.” you shrugged, sucking the last bit of moisture that had melted in the bottom of your glass. “He’s a good friend. And that’s all he is.” 
Even Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the blatant flag that you were waving over your head. 
SMACK
Two drumsticks came crashing down on the table between the two of you. Eddie didn’t even realize how close you two were getting until Gareth managed to squeeze himself between the two of you, banging his sticks rhythmically on the table. 
“Eddie we gotta go.” Gareth said. “Mom’s gonna kill me if I’m late tonight. Grandma’s visiting.”
“Shit.” Eddie muttered to himself and then looked at you. “Do you still need a ride?” 
He hoped you’d say yes. He hoped you didn’t mind his band while they all drove home so illegally. 
“I think I can’t say no.” You glanced at the drink. “Because that was waaay stronger than I expected it to be and I can alway bully Steve into helping me get my car in the morning.”
“Why was Harrington even here?” Gareth asked, looking at you with confusion. He glanced at Eddie in a questioning manner and a sharp look from Eddie shut him right up. 
“He’s my friend. He left. Said he wasn’t feeling well.” You replied nonchalantly. 
Harrington just left you drunk at a bar?! Eddie looked at you with wide eyes and his mouth hung open. What kind of bullshit friend was that? Henderson had spent so long talking up Steve Harrington, and how he was a total badass and not a dick and he left a friend drunk at a bar? He had been willing to play nice for Dustin, but any chance of that was thrown out the window. 
Eddie stood up, the chair scraping behind him as he tried (badly) to hide his frustration. “We’re giving her a ride home. She gets shotgun.” 
“What?!” Gareth protested, looking at you like you’d personally offended him. “If my parents see me get out of the back-”
“They won’t unless you plan on telling them to wait up for you.” Eddie said firmly. “She’s shotgun.”
There was a look of guilt on your face as you sat there awkwardly. “Mom, Dad, I can sit in the back or I can just stick around her for another hour with some water and I’ll sober up.” 
Eddie grabbed you by the scruff of your jacket and hauled you up quickly. “Nope, you’ve already had one person ditch you tonight. I’m not leaving you drunk in a bar alone.”
He winced internally at how roughly he’d just handled you. Eddie was so used to handling and rough housing with his club that he forgot that he shouldn’t be doing that with other people. But it was so easy with you. The few conversations you’ve had made him feel like you should have been part of Hellfire to begin with. If he ever saw Chris Morrison again, he’d deck him in his smug little nose. 
There was no time for protesting from either you or Eddie as he pushed the two of you out the door and towards his van. It was chilly out, the autumn air biting his skin as he pushed Gareth towards the back of the van. He released your jacket and stepped to open the door of the van for you. 
“After you-” He did his best to give what he hoped was a charming smile as you hopped into the van. He heard Zack mutter something in the back of his van followed by a round of snickering between his bandmates before he closed the door and hopped into the driver side seat. 
Metal came blasting out of the speakers and he fumbled to turn it down so that it didn’t blow your eardrums. 
“Wait no, turn that back up!” you said, reaching for the knob to elevate the voice of Ozzy Ozbourn as it thrummed through the van. 
“So uh, this is my new friend.” Eddie said, hating how that sounded as he tried to break the ice. 
You turned around in your seat immediately and stuck your hand in the back, introducing your name. Eddie was amazed as you wasted no time launching into how great the set was and asking a million questions as to who they were, how they started playing music. 
You weren’t shy, that was for sure. Actually the buzz you had going on made you even more interested in talking to everyone. Soon there was a lively conversation happening, enthusiastically about the tape that was playing. 
“My mom hates Ozzie.” Jeff said. “Says that he’s an animal abuser because he bit the head off that bat.”
“Everyone wants to talk about that, but no one wants to talk about how that happened!” You threw in. 
“What do you mean?” shot back Gareth. “With his fucking teeth!” 
“That’s not what I meant, Dingus!” you snorted. “Where do you think the bat came from?” 
Eddie gave pause and slowed his driving down just a touch. He was already going slow to avoid any cops out, but you had asked a question that he’d never even considered. 
The question gave pause to everyone as they looked at each other with confused shrugs. 
“I thought he just pulled it out of his pants.” Said Zack 
“His pants?!” 
“Why would he keep a bat in his pants?!”
“To pull it out and bite the head off of it, duh!”
“Where else would he keep a bat?”
“I don’t know, a cage?!”
The conversation was delving into chaos and Eddie could see you grinning out of the corner of his eye as you watched them squabble amongst themselves. 
“Maybe it just flew in?” Eddie threw that out there, wishing that he didn’t have to be driving so that he could focus on the mischievous glint in your eyes. 
“It was a closed auditorium, actually.” You smiled at him. “I highly doubt that a bat is just gonna fly into a random building filled with screaming people.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just a random building. It’s a building where Black Sabbath was playing.” Eddie laughed, glancing between you and the road. “Maybe it was a metal fan.”
“Not anymore.” 
“Jesus, Zack” 
“Alright, I’ll bite-”
“The head off a bat?”
“No! Okay, so you clearly know what happened so just spit it out!”
“Like Ozzy did with the bat head?”
“ENOUGH!” Eddie yelled out, hitting the breaks just enough to make the van jerk and you all to have his attention. You laughed as he resumed normal driving, thankful that it was almost 10 pm on a Tuesday night and the roads were dead and empty. “Let her talk.”
The van went quiet after a few apologies and you reached over to turn down the radio. 
“Alright, so,” you started. “I’m just gonna start from the beginning and if you all hear me rant about this once, you’ll probably hear me rant about it a hundred times in the future because this is my go-to drunk rant.” 
You glance at Eddie, and he could see the excitement in your eyes that you got to talk about this with fresh people who would actually appreciate it. 
“So we’ve established that this was a closed auditorium that he was playing in, and this wasn’t planned at all.” you continued. “So the question everyone needs to ask is where the fuck this bat came from. Everyone always talks about it like he reached up and grabbed a random bat out of the air and ate it whole but that’s not what happened. What happened is that a fan threw the bat on stage- mind you, he has no reason to believe that it’s a real bat. He thinks it’s a rubber bat! Who in their right mind would think that someone would throw a real bat on stage?”
“Isn’t Ozzy on every drug ever?” Jeff asked from the back. 
You turned around in your seat to look at him, your finger extended. “You... are absolutely correct and make a very valid point. That aside though, let’s think about this. What kind of person managed to get a live bat, sneak it into a concert, and get close enough to the stage to throw it at Ozzy?”
They were pulling up into Gareth’s neighborhood now, and Eddie drove under the speed limit, stopping fully at every stop sign just to prolong this time together. He was fully invested in the excitement and passion in your voice as you told this story. 
“Who was it?” Eddie asked. 
“Get this- a seventeen year old high school girl.” You said. “A fucking junior in high school, managed to get a live bat, sneak it in, and throw it at Ozzy! That’s insane, right?!”
“What?!”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“I have absolutely no clue!” you laughed. “The two interviews I read about it didn’t talk about who she was or anything. They just talked about how Ozzy saw the bat and didn’t realize it was alive until he took a bite! It’s actually kind of fucked up, and Ozzy did not deserve that but holy shit right?”
Eddie pulled into Gareth’s parent’s driveway, and everyone in the back went into band mode as Gareth immediately hopped out of the back and hoped that his parents weren’t watching. You moved back in your set and glanced at Eddie who had to pretend he wasn’t staring a hole into the side of your head. 
“Need any help?” you offered. 
He shook his head, “Just hang tight while we unpack. It’ll only take a second.” 
The boys made quick work of unpacking the drum set and rearranging the back so that the remaining two club members could more comfortably fit for the final leg home. Thankfully Jeff and Zack didn’t live too far from each other. You stayed in the van, zoning out pleasantly to the end of the tape. 
In the garage, Eddie was getting roasted. 
“So now you’re taking home girls after shows, Eddie?” Jeff asked with a shit-eating grin. 
“Next time warn us so we can get a different ride.” grumbled Gareth. 
“She seems nice.” Zack added. 
“Look, it was a last minute thing and she was left alone and drunk in a bar.” Eddie tried to explain as they put up the drum kit. 
“So the only girl you can get is a drunk girl?” ribbed Jeff. 
“A drunk girl who was ditched by a jock- ow!” Gareth rubbed his arm where Eddie had socked him. 
“I told you, it was a last minute thing.” Eddie said more firmly, narrowing his eyes at Gareth. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.” 
“Wasn’t she also at the arcade last Saturday?” Jeff asked. “Weird how she keeps showing up.”
“If it means we get someone else watching our band, who cares? She liked the set and we need the support.” Zack added. “Night Gareth”
“Night.” Gareth said before closing the garage door. 
They all made their way back into the van, just in time for the cassette to be spat back out for you to flip it over and push play again. The drive to drop off the remaining two members was quieter, as the school day plus the set caught up to them. Eddie was still wired, and he was looking forward to having a joint when he got home to calm himself after everything that had happened tonight. 
When the van was just the two of you, and you gave him directions to your small apartment, there was a comfortable silence between you. Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye at a red light, taking in the way your eyes were closed and your lips were upturned as you soundlessly mouthed the words to the song playing. 
“So, where’d you get your tattoos?” you asked after a few minutes. 
Eddie grinned. “Why? Are you looking to get some ink done?”
“Well, the last time I checked tattooing was illegal in Indiana.” you replied, glancing at the colony of bats flying up his arm. “So have you ever left the state or should I be concerned about whatever shady basement you visit to get those?”
He scrunched his face and blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry about the legalities, are you gonna tell Hopper on me?”
“Scratcher tattoos?” you frowned. “You are so lucky that those didn’t get infected.”
“She did it as a favor for me, she wasn’t some sketchy dude I met in a bar.” Eddie said defensively. “Her name’s Tara, she moved her from California where tattooing is legal, and she’s still technically licensed.” 
“Just not for Indiana.” 
“Not even a little.” he laughed. “But I helped her and she repaid me with these sweet ol’ tatties.”
You snorted into your hand at his verbiage. “How many you got?”
“Three on my arm and two on my chest. I got my first about three months after I turned eighteen when Tara moved in.” He explained. 
“Damn, and here I am looking at leaving the state to get something done legally like some sort of square.” You laughed. 
“So you are looking for some!” Eddie pulled into the parking lot you pointed to, right outside your building. 
“What can I say, I’m a rebel at heart. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I did jaywalk last week.” You smiled up at him, not bothering to move yet from the passenger side seat. 
“Jaywalking? Shit, and here I thought you were a quiet goody two shoes.” He shook his head. “I think you’re gonna be a terrible influence on me.”
“The worst.” you agreed. 
There was a silence that seemed to crackle with the old stereo. Eddie’s eyes met yours and he felt something that he hadn’t felt in almost two years. 
Oh.
Oh shit.
Flashes of his first senior year raced through his mind as he felt something begin again. He would have hoped that when he felt that jolt in his stomach again he’d be alright. Eddie looked at you, his mind racing a million miles per hour over what to do now. 
He had to get out of there. 
You were reaching out for him, shit- he wasn’t ready. Your hand was reaching across for his and gripped it, pulling it towards you. You were making a move and-
Pop
The sound of a maker’s cap reached his ears. Eddie felt the tip of the felt glide over the skin of his forearm, the temporary ink sinking into his skin and spelling out your name and phone number. 
Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that about?
“We should hang out again, on purpose.” you said, putting the marker back in your bag. 
Eddie’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded. Fuck, he needed a joint now. “Fifth time’s a charm.” he said. 
Without another word you gave him a wave and hopped out of the car, towards your unit. He watched to make sure you made it inside before smacking his head against the steering wheel as the night replayed in his mind. 
Sweet ol’ tatties?
Freaking out when he thought you might kiss him?
He knew that everything that happened two years ago would have an effect on him. Anyone who was close to Eddie knew the toll it took on him. He’d always been cynical, but ‘84 changed something deeper. 
Eddie didn’t want that to affect you. 
But he looked at the dried dark green ink on his arm with a sigh. “Dammit.” he muttered to himself before pulling out. 
He shouldn’t drag you into his problems. He should turn around and leave it at that- just four meetings between the two of you. Four odd, awkward, and admittedly nice meetings. 
The fifth meeting was inevitable. 
Tumblr media
---
“So, I think you need to leave, Steve.” you said as you watched Corroded Coffin pack up their instruments. 
“Wait, what?” he looked at you with wide eyes, glancing down at the guitar pick that you were fiddling with between your thumb and forefinger. The smooth plastic and the slightly sharper edge had a nice contrasting feeling as you played with it. 
“Steve, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. But I think if you stick around I’m gonna lose this chance.” 
“You’re really gonna go for it? For him?”
“Yeah, I think I am.” You watched the man on stage and gulped down the last of your drink. It was a bit stronger than expected and you had a nice buzz happening, but nothing alarming. You could easily hang out for another hour with some water and some pretzels and be perfectly fine to drive home if needed. But playing it up just a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? It had definitely loosened you up and relaxed you enough that you were starting to feel excited about talking to Eddie again. 
“How sober are you?” Steve glanced at the drink and back at you. “I need to know that you’re of sound mind and body before I leave you alone with some guy we barely know.”
“Awww, look at you caring about me.” you teased and pinched his cheek as he swatted your hand away. “If Dustin vouches for him, I’ll trust the kid’s judgment. And I’m fine, the worst I’ll do is run my mouth worse than normal and rant about things you won’t understand.”
“How’s that different from normal?”
“Ha ha. Okay, seriously. I love you, but you’re cockblocking me.” 
“Okay, okay I’m going, sheesh.” he stood up. “This is the thanks I get for introducing you to a guy.”
“Did you, or did you not get laid at least four times since we started this?” 
“Don’t forget to use protection.”
“Thanks Mom.” 
---
You liked Eddie’s friends, you decided. They were just as weird and loud and rowdy as you expected a bunch of high school boys to be. Gareth kept challenging you every few sentences, but the conversation didn’t feel as awkward as you were worried it’d be after being manhandled to Eddie’s van. Maybe even if this didn’t work out, you could at least be friends with them. 
And when the band was dropped off, it was just you and Eddie in his van. Talking to him was easy, almost as easy as it was to talk to Steve. You never had anything to prove to the jock, and you wished that you could feel the same about Eddie. You wanted him to like you, you wanted him to like you so much. 
Eddie parked and there was a charge in the air that made your stomach flutter. For the past two months you’d actually avoided moving ahead with Steve’s end of the bargain. As much as you wanted companionship, putting yourself out there was scary. But when you were next to Eddie, making small talk, awkwardly flirting, and screaming about music it wasn’t as scary. 
You wanted to move forward. 
You wanted to know him, and get out of this damn rut of home and work and little else. You were tired of hearing about everyone else living while you just coasted. 
So you decided to go for it. You wished you had grabbed a napkin from the bar, but all you had in your bag was an old green sharpie that you were praying still worked. You reached for his arm and you jotted down your name and phone number, putting the ball firmly in his court. You’d made your move, and now it was his turn. 
“We should hang out. On purpose.” you said, releasing him. 
“Fifth time’s a charm.” Eddie said. 
You gave a wave and made your way back to your small one bedroom apartment. As you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, that’s when you realized something. 
Today. Saturday. That was-
You looked down at your hand and put down two fingers. 
“What did he mean, five?!”
--
Part 6
Dividers by @strangergraphics
A/n: Drop a comment of what you'd want to see Reader get as a tattoo and I might add it later. See you all on the other side of Flight of Icarus.
Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1083 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistook @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119
Please reblog 💜
239 notes · View notes
everydayyoulovemeless · 9 months
Note
A little bit of an angst request but could you write the companions finding sole sobbing and injured, thinking their companion abandoned them after accidentally getting separated
Fo4 Companions Reactions To Sole Being Emotionally Distraught After Being Separated
➼ Word Count » 2.1k ➼ Warnings » Angst, Mentions of Blood
MacCready starts to yell a little, not because he's mad but because he's scared and doesn't know what he's supposed to do once he finds you. He'll quickly stab a stimpak into you, throw you on his back, and take you to the first stable location he can find before shushing your sobs and promising you that he's not going anywhere. He'll sit with you like that until you fall asleep, and he'll still be in the same spot when you awake. He hates that you thought he'd just abandon you. It makes him think you see him as just another merc only out for himself, and he can't stand that. He'll try to do as much as he can while you recover just to try and build that trust with you and show that he really is here for the long run.
Nick lets out a relieved sigh once he spots you, only stopping when he notices the blood covering the ground and the tears that are streaming down your face. He'll crouch down beside you, worry evident in his neon gaze as he checks you over for any cuts or broken bones. He's not as good at fixing up humans as he is with machines, but he'll do his best with the things he has with him. He's gotta admit, he's a little hurt that you thought he'd just desert you once things got tougher, but he swallows the feeling down. Maybe you're just not used to traveling with synths? He really hopes it's not because of what he is and due to some other unknown reason, but the thought seems to linger. He won't question you about it at all, instead just doing his best to get you to safety and disinfect your wounds the best that anyone can in a wasteland. He'll be a lot friendlier to you after the incident, hoping you'll eventually begin to trust him more.
Cait doesn't blame you for thinking she'd leave. If it were anyone else, she probably would. There isn't room for any trust in this world, but you'd been nice to her this far, and she felt the need to repay that debt. She'll march up to you, bat in her hand, saying something along the lines of, "We've only bin separated fur a couple o' minutes, how'd ye git yersel' so messed up?" She says it to lighten the mood, but is quick to start wrapping bandages around your injuries. She allows herself to be a bit softer, letting her guard falter as she focuses on getting you in better shape than how she found you. After it's all over, she'll ignore that it ever happened, refusing to ever mention the occurrence out of respect for your reputation and want for your continued companionship.
Danse is completely baffled that you thought he could ever do something like that to one of his fellow soldiers? He has experience with this exact type of reaction and, although he'll be stiff and awkward about it, he'll let you lean on his shoulder as you regain yourself, picking you up and guarding you as he takes you back to the nearest camp he can think of. He'll be less harsh towards you, with slightly fewer demands and making his voice a little softer. It's a traumatizing thing to go to, and he understands that. He'll be there with you every step of the way, knowing exactly what to do and who to take you to if things go south. He's probably one of the best ones on this list.
It hurts Preston to know that you thought he left you. He's not sure what he did to make you think that he'd ever abandon you but he's desperate to fix whatever it was. He's firm in his actions, having done this countless times before, kneeling down beside you to inspect your injuries closer before deciding on what his next move will be. He's muttering apologies the entire time, saying that he "didn't mean for you both to get separated like this." He might actually start tearing up himself at the sight of you so vulnerable distraught. He just ends up hugging you, promising that he'd never intentionally leave you stranded like that, before throwing your arm over his shoulder and helping you to the nearest form of shelter.
You can hear the panic in Codsworth's voice as he frantically floats over to you, handing you a cup of purified water. His heart breaks when you say you thought he abandoned you. He waited at the house for two full centuries, hoping that one day he might see you and your family come from over the hill, and you still thought he had it in him to ditch you? He doesn't understand your reasoning with it, and he's not sure if he wants to. The mere thought of deserting you in a possibly dangerous environment tears him apart, but he'll push it all to the side to focus on getting you to safety. He'll loosen up about it after everything calms down, accepting that you mostly have some form of unresolved trauma from the vault or the wasteland that has nothing to do with how you feel about him. He does still wonder if you truly don't see how important you are to him, though, and it hurts him to think about it, but whether you like it or not, he's a part of your family, and he'll do whatever he can to keep that title.
Piper gets a little annoyed at you. Her boots echo along the ruined concrete, an exacerbated hand running down her face as she asks what you really think of her. Do you see her as just some merc looking for the first opening she can get so that she can ditch the contract and take the caps? She's been advocating for you since day one, fighting against the entire idea of forgetting about things when life finally gets tougher. She refuses to leave anyone behind and finds it a little insulting that you thought she'd run without a second thought. irritated as she is, she'll still patch you up the best she can before running to get security to help you back to Diamond City. She'll let you rest for a day, but once you're deemed better, she'll lecture you for hours saying how she obviously cares for you, otherwise, she wouldn't have gone in the first place. The two of you are ride or die, and you need to trust her for it to mean anything.
Curie's at a loss for words when she sees you. The two of you were only separated for so long, how'd you manage to get this hurt? Her first priority would be to focus on patching you up. It won't do her any good trying to calm you down if you're passed out from the pain and blood loss. She's gentle with her every action, ensuring that you're looked after and doing ok. After that, she'll take you to a secluded area and dote on you some more, rubbing your shoulders gently and asking you what happened. She doesn't mind that you thought that of her, from a medical perspective, she can understand how fear and injury can cloud someone's judgment or perception of reality and is mainly just focused on making sure you're feeling better before either of you head out again.
Strong doesn't understand why you're crying and will just throw a piece of raw meat at you and tell you that you both need to start moving again because the place is "too dangerous for puny human". If he notices that you physically can't move, he'll begrudgingly throw you over his shoulder and carry you to wherever until someone with a bit of medical training (most likely a caravan) can look you over, all the while he's making fun of you for being so weak.
Hancock feels horrible when he finally spots you in the distance and is quick to stab some med-x into you to help ease your pain. He isn't all too sure what he's meant to do to help you out, so he just grips your shoulders and props you up against the nearest wall before sitting down beside you with a heavy sigh. He'll give you a minute to compose yourself a little bit, offering you a couple stimpaks before gently asking you about what had happened. He isn't all too hurt about you thinking he abandoned you, he'll mostly chalk it up to a bad chem trip. Hancock will sit there and listen to your sobs for as long as you need before steadily helping you up and taking you back to the Old State House, where he can better watch over you for the time being. He understands fully what it's like to have all reality warped in an instant of fear and confusion and will be glad to give you all the space and time you need to recover from your injuries and breakdown.
Deacon’s not sure what to do. He’s mad that he let you both get separated and wants to help calm you down, but he has no idea how to go about it. He’ll stand there silently for a while, at a loss for words for one of the first times in years, before finally deciding to just ignore your mental anguish for now and focus on the large gashes covering your body. It stings that you don't seem to trust him, but it stings even worse that he can't really question you for it. I mean, he's done nothing but lie to you for a good portion of your travels, but he didn't think that it'd affect you like this. Or at least he hopes it was just his lies, he wouldn't know what to do with himself if there was another untrustworthy aspect of his personality that you didn't like. He wants the best for you, he truly does, and he feels so incredibly guilty seeing you whimper on the ground like this. So much so, that he'll gradually try and change his behavior around you to make himself seem more reliable. He understands the reasoning behind why you might feel this way, he disappears on people all the time, but he never wants to leave you with the impression that'd he'd do it at a time as drastic as this.
X6-88 immediately teleports you to your room in the Institue and takes care of you in a strictly professional manner. He'll calmly do what he needs to do to fix up your injuries and frequently give you one-word responses to your incoherent sobs. He won't let you leave your room for at least the next 3 days and will be right there with you the entire time. He's constantly checking in on you to make sure you're doing better both emotionally and physically and hopes that this will be enough to prove that the Institute has nothing but you're the best interest at heart. He would never leave you for dead and uses this experience to show how the wasteland is horrible and you should just move into the Institue full time.
Dogmeat is confused and incredibly worried. He’ll lick your face repeatedly in an attempt to get you to stop crying. Once he notices you're injured though he’ll start barking hoping someone will come along and help.
Old Longfellow has never deliberately left one of his loved ones behind and will never plan on it. He wastes no time getting you on his shoulder and rushing you to the first location that gets you both out of the fog for a decent period of time before glancing you over. He's very firm in what he's doing and will use this opportunity to teach you basic medical skills so you never have to worry about being left behind and injured. Longfellow has experienced his fair share of close calls while alone out here in the Far Harbor forests and will willingly tell you everything you'd need to know about survival to ensure you're safety moving forward.
Gage thinks you're stupid for putting yourself in such a vulnerable position like this, but doesn't blame you for thinking that he'd abandon you, I mean, he did it to Colter, it makes sense you'd think he'd do the same to you. He'll come over beside you and tell you that you've done way too much for him to even want to abandon you. If he did, the other Nuka-World leaders would skin him alive. He'll then have you climb onto his back before he carries you back to the park to get you looked at by someone more capable than he is. No hard feelings on his part.
228 notes · View notes
Text
Imagine Helping Vash Get Cleaned Up After the Incident in July
Tumblr media
Vash the Stampede X FemReader
Rating: T
Warnings: Suggestive themes, mentions of nudity, angst, mentions of deaths, and steam
Word Count: 1k
(A/N:) I am drowning in Trigun Stampede feels. I needed to write something to make me feel better (it helped a little bit). I want Vash to be happy, somebody please stop writing bad things happening to him!! He deserves good things and I just have all the Vash feels. So I have SEVERAL ideas in my drafts for both him and Nicholas so my fellow Trigun fangirls be on the lookout as I keep working and hopefully get around to posting more often! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
After the disaster of July, your heart ached horribly for the lives lost in the incident. But you found yourself worrying more about a blond haired man more than anything. Once the news of the destruction was done an announcement followed about the raised bounty of the person responsible for such a horrific act. Vash the Stampede now had a sixty billion double dollar bounty stamped across his name and every bounty hunter with the guts to go after him on his tail. You worriedly waited for the fateful moment that he would find his way at your doorstep every night. You didn’t have to wait long as a week later Vash stumbled right to your door, collapsing at your feet.
You struggled getting him inside before you were finally able to get him in and shut the door. Vash sat limply in a chair, a ragged cloth draped over his form leaving him in shadow, while his normally styled hair hung limply in dirty knots. He didn’t speak or even look at you, keeping his eyes down to stare holes into the floor. You sighed tiredly, knowing that he was blaming himself for everything. Nothing was truly his fault, but Vash always took the world and it’s problems on his shoulders. He probably didn’t understand why he brought himself to your door as he worried about bringing destruction down upon your home. You shook your head grabbing his arm and tugging him up to his feet.
“You don’t have to talk,” you started walking while tugging him along, “or explain anything. But you will follow me and do what I tell you. No arguing.”
You brought him into your bathroom where you started running water into an old wooden tub you kept for your baths. He started to protest, Vash’s voice rough with disuse but you quickly shushed him, continuing on with your work.
“Get undressed,” you stated with no room for arguments. “I’m going to get you cleaned up.”
Vash just sighed in defeat as you turned back to focus on getting the tub filled and the necessary items to get him all clean. Bashfully Vash stood in the middle of the bathroom waiting for you to finish with the running water. You didn’t focus on that the man you cared for dearly was standing naked in the middle of the room, but the sight of all the scars and metal marring his flesh made you gasp in concern.
“Vash,” you whimpered. He stood there stiffly before looking away as you got closer to him. “Oh Vash.”
You reached out and he flinched, ashamed that you were seeing the sad state his body was in and what he had done to himself all for the sake of his ideals. Still you didn’t let his embarrassment stop you as you traced the metal across his pectoral.
“Sorry I’m so hideous,” he grinned sadly which just made you glare at him.
“You aren’t hideous,” you stated a little angry that he thought that way. The look in his once bright blue eyes had you tugging him into your embrace. “You’ll never be hideous to me. Now get in the tub, you’ll feel much better once you’re all clean.”
“Yes ma’am,” Vash chuckled entering the water. He watched you for a couple seconds just waiting for you to leave. You stayed there staring back before making your way back to the tub. Kneeling down you grabbed the wash cloth, dipping it into the still warm water and rubbing it across his grimy skin. You traced all the scars, leaving tender touches to each one as you went along. Vash shivered at your touch despite the heat of the water. The water grew murky quickly as you made sure that all the dirt was washed away. You wished greatly that you could scrub away guilt as easily as the sands of Noman’s Land. Vash relaxed a little at the attention you laved upon him, all thoughts of the scars he hated so much melting away at every touch you gifted them. 
You knew Vash had always seemed a little flustered around you, but you were happy to see him relax. Normally you wouldn’t stick around and watch or help him bathe, but when you had seen him so exhausted at your doorstep that he wound up collapsing at your doorstep you couldn’t leave him alone. Bringing him back to his fun and goofy self was your newest mission. Vash stiffened when you leaned forward, placing your hand in the water to use the tub as leverage. He felt your fingertips brush against his bare thigh, making his eyes widened. You brushed your lips gently against his chapped ones.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” you whispered.
Vash continued to stare before he placed a damp hand on the back of your head and brought you closer. Before you could ask what he was doing, his lips were on yours. You melted into his embrace, letting Vash do whatever he needed to take from you. He stood up taking you with him as water splashed onto the floor in large puddles. You groaned tangling your fingers in his hair, ignoring the fact that your comfortable clothes were quickly becoming soaked. Vash held on tightly your smaller form fitting against his like the perfect puzzle piece. He hadn’t been able to relax or feel at peace one day since the destruction of July, but now that he was here with you he finally found that comfort he had been longing for. He held on tightly not wanting to ever let go as you saw him as he wanted to be seen. You didn’t judge him or force him to open up, you quietly stood by just waiting for the times he needed you. He loved you greatly and he was thankful that he found someone like you. All cleaned and freshly dressed, Vash watched you fall asleep against him, your warm breath puffing against his neck. He held on tighter letting himself relax for the first time in so long.
561 notes · View notes
Note
AITA for laughing at my conservative uncle?
This is an incident that made half of my family go no/low contact with each other, and some still think I was an asshole for it (I think I wasn't), but I wanna get tumblr's perspective. I was 24(F) when this happened, my uncle was 58.
Thanksgiving 2021 my family wanted a big weekend long get together after not being able to do Thanksgiving in 2020 due to lockdowns. Family members took time off work and drove in from out of state so we could all hang out from Thursday to Sunday.
We all have that one uncle who spends every family event saying the most out there racist/sexist/homophobic/transphobic/whatever shit, and mine I feel is worse than most. He has some truly shitty takes like "It should be legal to hunt the homeless for sport", and "If a woman doesn't wanna get raped she should get married at like 16 and never go anywhere without her husband," and "If I ever saw a man pretending to be a woman I would kill him with my bare hands, and most of this nation would agree with me". Truly a piece of shit. Meanwhile my family knows I am extremely progressive, so they do their best to keep me and my uncle separate during family events or else it could (and has in the past) lead to shouting matches.
But here's the thing: I would happily avoid him and not talk to him during get togethers, but he loves arguing. He seeks me out. He'll follow me to the bathroom and bring up transphobic things happening in the news. He'll get up from the dinner table to walk over to me and shove an news article about Trump in my face. If he sees me enter the room he'll start talking LOUDLY about his political opinions. He WANTS to argue with me, and the family considers it my duty to ignore him and calls me an asshole when I engage, because that's just giving him what he wants. But he somehow never gets called out for hounding me, because "that's just how he is".
So it's Thanksgiving 2021. And maybe it's because of the therapy, or maybe it's just because I'm getting tired of avoiding him, or maybe it's the lockdowns that eroded my social graces, but I see him spot me from across the room and get that "ohhh I'm gonna make her sooooo mad" little glint in his eye and start to make his way over, and I don't find it infuriating anymore. I find it deeply funny that this divorced, no job, no bitches, deadbeat dad, that everyone secretly hates, has decided the only way he can get a drop of serotonin in his sad miserable life that HE ruined all by himself, is to turn to reactionary politics in a desperate attempt to get a rise out of his niece.
He starts in on the regular vile transphobic shit (I don't need to repeat it we've heard it all before, imagine the worst anti-trans rhetoric you've ever heard and yup. That's what he was saying) and I don't try to counter his points like I usually do. I just laugh. He keeps going, looking more and more puzzled, and I keep laughing.
He thinks I didn't hear him right. No no, I heard it all, and it was funny. He decides I must be too triggered to speak. No I promise, I'm having the time of my life. He guesses I'm not as smart as I think I am then, if I can't come up with a good counterpoint. Oh I'm plenty smart, and you're plenty hilarious.
Long story short he gets madder and madder that I won't engage until he's red faced and yelling. Family members are trying to calm him down and telling me to stop. I don't. I'm not mad that they're again blaming me for the interaction when I was just standing there and HE came up to ME, it's just really funny at that point. Really funny that the entire family walks on eggshells to protect his precious feelings when they could just laugh in his face like I am. My uncle punches a hole in my grandmother's wall and storms off cussing. The mood of the entire Thanksgiving weekend is ruined, and even my most left leaning family members think I'm an asshole because I KNOW how he is and I should have just walked away.
Should I have just walked away to save everyone's Thanksgiving weekend?
What are these acronyms?
218 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Prince Fluff's Father
Okay, so you guys can keep reading if you want spoilers, but.. if you guys wanna put in any, guess feel free.
But believe it or not, I have mentioned Prince Fluff's father 2 or 3 times before... you guys just didn't know it.
Tumblr media
I may not have the event play out exactly like this (have Falspare less angry), but... Prince Fluff... is the son of the FISHER KING! Believe it or not, I planned this plotline ever since I introduced the Fisher King into the story.
Kirby and the gang aren't going to see Fluff any differently but Falspar...
Ya'know like Fishnet (cloth)- Fisher...
Yeah, I know far far-fetched connection but bear with me! This is just my way of connecting the game lore is to mix it with Arthurian lore, there are a few more surprises but the ones I have on the list.
Ribbon & Ripple Star's connection (Morgan Le Fay/ Dame Morgan)
Epic Yarn/ Prince Fluff's Connection (the Fisher King/ Fluff's father)
Planet Robobot Susie Haltman (Sir Icarus)
Moving on...
And a quick poll and more info on Fluff's father. (keep reading)
You know just enough to spook Falspar and make him wince and make him think it's the Fisher king at first glance.
After the whole incident (also mentioned here)... this was awake up call to the Fisher King. (I don't know whether to change his name to something else or keep him with a name.)
He magically isolated his planet, locking away Patchland and separating it from the galaxy & the war. (Also, so he can escape Uther's wrath for pulling away his support; so yeah all of that blame and anger went to Falspar.)
Basically, the land that suffered was not Patchland but the galaxy... Being cut off from the biggest source of good, destroying the galaxy's economy.
The Fisher King did do the work and eventually did become a better person... In a sense, the Pathland, (while still wealthy & stable in his rule) still suffered deeply inside. Tolling away regretting his actions...
A part of him does want to rejoin the galaxy, but he's too afraid that people will still see him as the man he was... the fear and shame kept him away from it all... Everyone!
He put the well-being of his kingdom and his people first... they loved their king. Patchland was prosperous and thriving while their king suffered in silence. He'd put on a smile and watched on in the shadows... Denying himself the love of his people and the fruits of his labor... (Basically, he was punishing himself for years...)
Until a certain, (Fluff's mom) had broken through the barrier by mistake... I have a cute love story planned out for them, but yeah, she was the only one who saw the king's hidden sadden.
Fluff's mom: Why do you suffer?
FK: Because I was a terrible man... I deserve to suffer.
Fluff's mom: Are you the man you were before.
FK:No... I uh-
Fluff's mom: Then why should you suffer?
Basically she's the one who "freed the Fisher King"
Yeah, long story short they fell in love, got married, and had Fluff... You're probably asking "Wait, hold on a minute didn't the Fisher King receive an injury that left him impotent." (unable to have children)
Yes, that is true... which is why he sought out a certain Yarn Wizard: *cough* Yin-Yarn! Who was able to magically create a son for him that was biologically his & his wife's. Giving her the child she's always wanted...
And the Fisher King... WAS THE BEST FATHER TO FLUFF! And loved him so much... He prepared him for the outside world. And told him of the man he was, before... regardless Fluff loved, respected, and adored his father dearly and never saw him differently.
Having a family gave him a newfound purpose in life... and gave him the confidence to return to the outside- Oh no, tragedy sets in... he falls ill (and slowly starts to lose his mind... the only thing he could remember was his wife & son.)- the price he had to pay for Fluff's birth... but he did not regret it at all.
Resulting in his wife & son having to see him lose his mind and his life fade away... bedridden. But all his plans to rejoin the galaxy and the GSA remain untouched... ready to be used.
Basically, the Fisher King's death plays out like this...
youtube
However, even though he passes on these plans to his son he gives him the option to never use them as well... knowing how difficult it would be for Fluff... being his son.
Even telling him, "Should anyone who has any grievance with me... accept it, don't deny it, and apologize to them, alright."
The Fisher King started off as an arrogant two-faced King but died a kind and loving man... he considers Fluff his greatest achievement... and his greatest regret is not being able to see the fantastic ruler he knew he would become.
He dies leaving his wife & son to grieve... two years later Prince Fluff's mother disappears... I know it's sad.
Prince Fluff looks over these plans but isn't sure if he can do it... though after meeting Kirby the gang he feels confident enough to do it... He's just going to need their support.
I'm not gonna reveal how this goes down just yet but... Flaspar was never able to find closure with the Fisher King incident... but perhaps he can find closer with his son. (>:3)
72 notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 8 months
Text
Normally, traitors aren’t frog-marched to the Emperors themselves, regardless of what rank of information they had. These aren’t normal circumstances, though, Techno bemoans to himself. For one, the man is refusing to speak anything but French and a tiny amount of broken Bayesh. For another, on being made, he immediately handed over about three folders of classified information then loudly waited for handcuffs to be put on him.
Phil is lounging in his throne; he’d never been one for propriety. This leaves Techno to be, uh, the actually serious one. The one adorned in uniform, sitting and glowering down. It’s lucky that the traitor isn’t a pigman, because Techno isn’t actually great at glowering, but humans are weird about pigman facial expressions so he should be fine?
The traitor stands before them and grins. In perfect Bayesh, he says: “Finally. It took way too long for you to catch me, bitch.”
Techno pauses. He stares. In Piglish, he barks to his guards: “Everyone out. It’s Leader business.”
They file out. They’ll be waiting outside. Phil straightens in his seat and reaches for his own sword.
Techno, laboriously, drags his hand across his face. He switches back to Bayesh. God, does he regret being fluent in multiple languages sometimes. “What are you doing here, Tommy.”
“Showing you your intelligence weak points, fucker. Do you know how easy it is to slip Bayesh spies in here? I was smooth. A smooth customer. I was hearing classified milkitary secrets—”
“You were caught within two hours,” Techno says.
“That’s—that’s just what you think, innit?” Tommy says. Phil laughs. He’s the real traitor here.
“Tommy. I don’t wanna have to cause an international incident, but I’ve had a really long day, so if you just tell me who hired you to run a spy op, and why you decided it was a good idea to run it yourself, instead of sending one of your experts…”
“No one,” Tommy says.
“Hey, don’t lie you little shit. Techno might not want to start an incident but I don’t care,” Phil says. He grins and holds up his sword. “You wanna wake up in a jail cell and reveal some secrets? We may all be Leaders but it won’t stop torture from hurting.”
“What the fuck, Phil,” Tommy says.
“No one’s torturing anyone. We’ll just bomb them later if we must,” Techno says.
“And I wasn’t lying. It’s—can I take the wig off by the way? It fucking itches.”
“I despise you.”
Tommy takes off the black wig, revealing his blonde hair. “Anyway, I don’t want to work with you guys either, so I figured I’d get your attention by like, acting like we’re enemies and stuff. Got hired for espionage enough back in the day to pick up that much.”
“Who the fuck wanted you as a spy?” Phil asks.
“Fuck you,” Tommy says and doesn’t elaborate.
“Please just tell us what you want,” Techno says. “Please. I can’t handle this much you at any given time.”
“This needs to be Leader to Leader,” Tommy says, and something heavy laces his words. The hairs on Techno’s arms stand up.
“You coulda asked,” he says, in one final desperate bid for normality.
“No, I couldn’t have,” Tommy says. “I think Chip’s dead.”
Techno doesn’t notice that he’s standing until he is.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Yeah. And, uh, I fucking. Need your help to figure out what happened. Before we get blamed. And I know, politically, you’ve got no reason, but if we don’t figure out—”
Techno sits back down, heavy.
“I know you understand Piglish. Let me talk in my native language. Phil.”
“Yeah, mate?”
“Go get the stuff.”
Phil’s eyes darken. “Right. That. Well, I’ll be back.”
Tommy’s voice, for the first time since Techno met him as a newly-minted Leader, standing on a wooden bench and yelling about executions, is small.
“You believe me?” he says.
“Why else would you come here?” Techno asks. “Not like we like you.”
“Good, because I’m shit at infiltrations. Would have been embarrassing if you, like, didn’t know your enemy well enough to know that,” Tommy says. He’s saying something else underneath it. Techno is neither good enough at Bayesh or at Tommy to guess what.
“Let’s work out an excuse to make a treaty. And you tell me everything.”
150 notes · View notes
fantastic-nonsense · 2 years
Text
the thing that gets me is that Bruce never actually knows how Jason died
he knows the bare bones and that's it: he knows that Jason saw his mother going into the warehouse, and he knows he left Jason there while he ran off to chase down the truck (while telling him to take no action until he got back), and he knows that Jason somehow still ended up in that warehouse anyway, beaten and bloody and blown up by the Joker...but he actually has no idea how or why Jason went inside. He never finds out about Sheila; they're buried next to each other in Gotham Cemetery, and you know he never would have done that if he'd known the truth.
like...who's going to tell Bruce the gory details of his son's last hours? Sheila, who died in Bruce's arms before she could say much other than that Jason was a good boy who threw himself in between her and the bomb in an attempt to make sure she lived? Jason, who was already dead (and then a vegetable and then on the streets and then with Talia)? The Joker, who has little reason to say anything and was presumed dead after the UN Incident anyway?
Who tells Bruce that his son was tricked by his birth mother and then died to save her anyway? Who tells Bruce that Sheila's trickery is the reason Jason ended up in that warehouse, that she told him it was safe and that the Joker was long gone? Who tells Bruce that she pulled a gun on her own son? Who tells Bruce that she watched and turned her head away and smoked while her son was beaten mercilessly with a crowbar? Who tells Bruce that she only showed actual remorse after the Joker double-crossed her and tied her up too? Who tells Bruce that Jason tried to save her anyway, dragging himself on broken bones and borrowed time to untie her when he could have been selfish and saved himself? Who tells Bruce that Jason was a good son and a good man who acted like the hero he was till the very end and it still wasn't enough to save him?
Bruce goes home and grieves and buries his kid and nearly kills the Joker at the UN and puts up a memorial case and starts using Jason as a cautionary tale about recklessness because in his mind, it's the only thing he can do. He told Jason to wait. Jason went into the warehouse anyway. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know how. Those are the only two facts he knows (the only two facts that he'll ever know, since Jason's certainly not willing to tell him once he comes back to Gotham as Red Hood).
So much about how Jason's death is treated in the aftermath of Death in the Family is fucked up, but the fact that there will forever be a gap in Bruce's knowledge of Jason's final hours because it's basically impossible for Bruce to know what happened is just excrutiating. He's left to make his own conclusions about what happened...because neither Jason nor Sheila are alive to tell him differently. And that changes the calculus in really awful and tragic ways.
Bruce blamed himself (not Jason) for years because of that gap before writers started victim-blaming Jason for his own death, but even then that ignorance of his son's final hours hurts because he's left to make his own conclusions and there's never a right answer: if he hadn't tried to bench Jason in the first place, would he still be here? If he'd stopped the truck and doubled back faster, would Jason have had a chance? If he'd stayed and gone into the warehouse with him, would they both have made it? If he'd just forced the issue and brought Jason with him, would his son still be alive?
And he doesn't have an answer, and so Jason becomes a cautionary tale to Tim and Cass about being careful and cautious and following orders (even if neither of them really ever listen). Because if he couldn't save Jason, his death can at least serve a purpose beyond the yawning chasm of grief that threatens to choke him every morning he wakes up and remembers that his son is dead, that he'll never see another sunrise or finish high school or sit in the manor library with him poring over homework again. His son is dead and it's his fault, and that's all Bruce will ever see.
830 notes · View notes