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smusherina · 22 days

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yard work - chapter 8 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): not so much homophobia in this one! not even cigarettes!

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 9

A snowball hit you on the back of the neck. Squealing like a pig and whirling around indignantly, you caught Kylie's eyes across the yard. Softball had made her aim dangerous. Luckily, you had one big advantage.

You lifted your arms above your head, miming a rearing bear, and charged towards her all the while bellowing like a beast. She giggled and began running away, rounding the pool. You gave chase, not even having to pretend to have a hard time since she was ridiculously athletic for her age, but eventually caught her. You hauled her into your arms and into the air, spinning around while cackling maniacally. She laughed and screeched in joy as you shook her around, screaming once you intentionally fell into the snow.

"I won!" She yelled in your face, cheeks rosy from the cold. Her grin was gap-toothed and so carefree.

"No! The snow monster caught you!" You protested playfully.

"Nuh-uh, I threw the last ball an' hit you- hit you square in- in the neck!" You'd heard from Mrs George that Kylie was in speech therapy for the stammer. In your opinion, it just made her cuter.

"The snow monster doesn't agree!" You lowered your voice and made it gruff, putting on the snow monster role, and stood up. She was tiny so there was no issue picking her up whenever you wanted. Holding her by the back of her jacket and knee, you threw her into the nearest snow pile.

"Again!" She stumbled down and out of the pile, back to where you stood, and you picked her up. Spinning around a few times, her legs flailing as you did, you launched her into the air sending the kid off in a great trajectory right back into the snow.

Before she could demand you manhandle her some more, you heard the backdoor slide open.

"Girls!" Mrs George hollered. "Josie and Riley are here!"

Your shoulders slumped in relief. You didn't know what you would've done if it'd been Mr George at the door. Kylie, eager to see her cousin and aunt, sprinted to the door. You lagged back, happy to be alone for a bit.

"Kylie! Kylie, through the garage please!" Mrs George waved her arms like a frazzled traffic guard, desperately not wanting wet floors. Kylie skidded to a stop right before the porch steps and swerved right, headed for the garage door now. You walked at a level pace behind her, knowing full well both the guests' attention would be taken up by the youngest of the Georges for at least the next half hour. Kylie had redecorated since they last visited after all. Priorities.

Your clothes were covered in snow, so due to be soaked pretty soon. You brushed off what you could but hung them up to dry nonetheless. You shot a text to Regina, asking for spare sweatpants 'cause your jeans were not suitable for inside wear. You got back a LOL. You crossed your fingers that meant yes.

"You did not put on that fugly sweater to meet my aunt and cousin." She said once she saw you. You could only shrug helplessly. You liked the sweater.

"I guess I did." You looked at the clothing in her arms. "That for me?"

"Yeah." She handed them over. You stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to either turn around or leave the room. When she didn't, you decided that, hey, she asked for it.

Unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, you revealed a pair of Ironman boxers.

"Do you shop at the kids' section?" Regina sneered at you.

You winked in response. "I know you like 'em."

"Sure. Love 'em."

You pulled the sweatpants on. They were soft and grey and somehow exactly the right size.

"Did you get these from your dad?" You asked dubiously, not too thrilled by the prospect of wearing Mr George's clothes.

"No, they're for you," Regina responded as if it were obvious. "I got some stuff for you when we started talking. Like, it'd be really inconvenient if you had to go back home just to get a toothbrush or something when you were staying over." She expanded, sounding confident but fiddling with her nails. You'd driven her to an appointment a few days ago to get a new autumn set. "But then, y'know, we spent more time at yours so... Hasn't been much use."

"Huh. I should get something like that for you at mine."

"No." She grinned. "I like stealing your clothes."

"Do you use my toothbrush too?" You acted scandalized, hiding how her saying she liked your clothes made you giddy. She couldn't hate your sweaters that much, then.

She rolled her eyes. "No, idiot, I carry one in my purse always."

"Gotta always be prepared." You clicked your tongue and swung your arm in jest. "Did you already say hi to your relatives?"

"Yes, so now we can go hang out in my room until dinner." Regina grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the mudroom. You went pliantly but redirected your path to the living room before she could climb the stairs. You ignored Regina's groan.

Introductions happened swiftly. You were Regina's friend and your family was spending Thanksgiving elsewhere, leaving you in charge of the house. The story wasn't entirely truthful, but neither was it a lie. Riley was a bit younger than Regina but only by a year or two. You could tell she wanted to spend time with her older cousin so bad, but Regina was not enthused.

Luckily, Kylie wanted nothing more than Riley to play Wii with her in the basement. So, off they went. You sat on the couch next to Regina, subtly leaning back and putting your arm on the backrest behind her. You were being totally casual and cool. You weren't even sitting that close so it didn't even look like you had her arm around her. It was totally cool.

Mr George sat in the recliner, eyes trained on the TV. Some sports game was on, but you paid more attention to Mrs George and her sister.

"So, what do y'all wanna do when you get outta high school?" While Mrs George's Southern accent had dulled down over the years to a North-Western one, which meant she sounded like any other Illinois local, the same could not be said for Aunt Josie. Her Texas twang was prominent.

Regina went first. "College." You did so wish she could find it in herself to be a little nicer to her relatives.

"I'll probably take a full-time position at my dad's shop." That'd been the extent of your plans since forever ago.

Regina looked at you oddly, but didn't say anything.

Mrs George and Aunt Josie nodded along, mildly interested, then started talking about college these days and the state of youth in America. You excused yourselves from the conversation and pulled Regina into the kitchen.

"Mom forbids snacks on special days, you know this," Regina grumbled as you dug around in their pantry.

"Does this count as a snack?" You pulled out hot cocoa packets. They were probably ages old, been there since you used to regularly visit the George residence, but you didn't believe in expiration dates anyway. It was just powder.

"We could make real hot chocolate, though." Regina pointed out, eyeing the dusty packets with contempt.

"Well, we could spend some more time in the kitchen making all that and be roped into sitting with them again to drink or we could be quick and tactically retreat upstairs."

"Get the big mugs. We're putting at least two packs in one. And make it with milk."

So, you got to work. You, specifically, while Regina sat on the island and watched. You didn't mind. She looked really pretty. She kind of matched with you, coincidentally enough. Your sweater was a motley of orange and brown patterns and shapes, itchy on bare skin and more so frizzy than fluffy. Regina had a sweater too, and of the same colour scheme, but hers was much more refined, soft to the touch, and had sensible patterns. She had on a black skirt and white legwarmers.

You snuck upstairs with your steaming mugs, tiptoeing so you wouldn't be heard. Once in the safety of Regina's room, you quickly huddled up on the bed.

"Good, right?"

"Swiss chocolate would've been better." She took a sip. "That's really good, though. What is that?"

"I added a little cinnamon."

"It tastes a bit like Christmas," Regina said, looking at you above the rim of her cup as she drank.

"It's right around the corner." You got comfortable on the bed, laying on your side facing Regina.

"Ugh, I hate Christmas. Everybody always comes here, as if Uncle Charlie doesn't have a huge log cabin that he doesn't even use most of the year. If I have to share a bed with Luke this year, I'm quitting."

"He's your oldest cousin, right?"

"Yeah. He's a dick. Last year, he totally-"

As she got into the story, you were lulled into a sense of comfort. Safe in Regina's room, warm hot cocoa cup in your hands, her voice regaling her cousin Luke's douchebaggery, you could almost forget everything else.

You decided you didn't want to think about difficult things during Thanksgiving. Even if the holiday itself hadn't ever been sacred or even fun for you, the fact that you got to spend it at the Georges' made it special.

At one point or another, you felt Regina pluck the mug out of your hands.

"Hey..." You slurred, blinking awake.

"Shh, just go to sleep." She patted your shoulder. You mumbled sleepily and nodded. Somewhere in the distance, she giggled, her hand still warm on your shoulder.

You stirred a couple of times during your nap. At first, you saw Regina next to you reading. Still Catcher in the Rye. She didn't look your way and you fell back asleep.

The second time she was closer. Your eyes met and her hand squeezed yours. She smiled and shuffled closer. Had you not still been halfway to sleep, your heart would've beat right out of your chest.

The third time, her arm was around your waist and knee slotted between yours. It'd been a long time since you'd been held like this. You and Regina used to cuddle in bed for sleepovers, but those were so long ago. She'd always insisted on being the big spoon despite you being bigger. Even now, she had you by your waist while your hands were tucked close to your chest. Wiggling one out, you threw it around her back.

The fourth time was the last. Regina had rolled partly on top of you. Her cheek was pressed to your shoulder, arm secure around your belly, while her leg was bent over your hips. You were firmly held down. There was a gentle knock on the door before it creaked open.

"Sweetie, would you come down to help with dinner?" Mrs George was there, head poked into the room. You nodded with a smile. She eyed you two for a bit, a secretive sort of smile on her lips, before closing the door again.

You took meticulous care to not wake Regina up as you wriggled out of her hold. You replaced your body with a couple of pillows, hoping it'd be enough to keep her asleep a while longer.

After splashing some cold water on your face in the en suite bathroom, you headed downstairs.

"There you are," Mrs George waved you over. "Slice up those mushrooms, would you?"

You washed your hands and got to work. Mrs George and Josie were singing along to some music playing on the radio, chatting occasionally. Kylie and Riley were seated on the island playing on their Nintendo gadgets, at times demanding to taste the contents of the various pots on the stove. The sisters fed them spoonfuls dotingly. Mrs George came up to you a few times too, holding a spoon in one hand while the other was cupped under it, feeding you this and that. The gravy was really good.

The Georges were going all out, going above and beyond in both the taste and sheer amount of food. There were three courses, appetizer, entrée, and dessert. You could only dream of a spread like this and, maybe a little selfishly, you wished Mrs George would pack some of the leftovers for you. It sounded like an utter dream, food for days, good food for days. Mrs George's mac and cheese, buttery mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffed mushrooms, pear salad, heartily roasted vegetables—you could go on.

"Turkey's ready!" Josie called gleefully, clapping her oven mitts together. "Let's get her out, Judie."

Once the turkey was out and placed to the side to wait for dinner, you popped the green bean casserole in. Along with it went the mac and creamed Brussels sprouts. Kylie bemoaned the dish and made a big show of declaring she would not be eating Brussels sprouts in any way, shape or form. You kinda liked them, but it wasn't your favourite.

At some point or another, Regina came down, rubbing sleep dust from her eyes. Still groggy, she didn't even try to bat her mom's hands away when she started smoothing down her bedhead.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," You greeted from your spot at the stove. The job of stirring all the pots had been handed off to you.

"Morning," She yawned. "I'm not gonna get any sleep tonight. You should've woken me up."

"Sorry." You didn't really feel sorry, and she knew that, but that didn't stop you from patting her on the back in consolation. She leaned into you, mind clearly still addled from the nap of the century. She didn't like being touchy-feely in front of other people.

Just under two hours later, you were all ready to sit down for appetizers. You offered to help Mrs George with bringing the dishes back and forth, but she insisted she had it. It made you feel bad since she was the only one who didn't get to sit down and eat in peace. Under the strict eye of Mr George, you didn't dare to go against her wishes. You didn't know what he would take as disrespect or how he'd react to a guest misstepping in his house.

You mirrored Regina the whole time. You ate when she did, took more when she did, and focused on conversation when she did. The tactic was a safe one, but even so the shift in vibrations when around Mr George was palpable.

He didn't talk much. Mostly he just asked his daughters questions about school and their extracurriculars. He only nodded at Regina when she briefed him about the goings-on at school. He indulged Kylie's retelling of her most recent ball game with a subtle smile. He gave his compliments to Mrs George. It made your stomach twist, seeing Kylie beam like she'd won something when she got a smile out of him. Watching Mrs George's nearly full, almost untouched plate sit unattended as she busied herself with the pecan pie in the oven, you quietly wished he wasn't here at all.

Even though the air was soured by Mr George's aloof presence, the food was good. Delicious, immaculate, spectacular. Regina was a much slower eater than you, so you did eventually give up mirroring her because there was no way you were not stuffing yourself full. By the end of it, your stomach was maybe visibly distended and you could taste cranberry sauce at the back of your throat. It was a horrible feeling, but you wouldn't take any of it back.

Mr George went to his recliner, Mrs George and Josie retreated to the sitting room, and you were roped into playing video games with Kylie and Riley. Regina came too, seemingly pained.

The food baby melted away slowly as you watched Regina's younger replicas try their damndest to beat a boss in some game with a raccoon in blue. There was also a pink hippo and a green turtle. Eventually, they pawned the controller to you and told you to beat it. It took you a little bit to figure out the controls, but eventually, you were beating some tiger to the ground as a pink hippo. As you played, you noted that the plot was pretty good for a kids' game. You'd have to see if you could get it for yourself next time you went to GameStop.

With the boss beat, the younger girls took over again. Regina decided that that was enough and bid the two goodbyes, dragging you out with her.

"Not a fan of Sly Cooper?" You teased once she'd deposited you into her room. You walked in further and sat down on the floor, leaning against the frame of her bed.

She was looking at you like she never had before. Or maybe she had, but this was intense. She walked closer, forcing your neck to crane up as she stood above you.

"Reg?" You whispered, confused and a little wary. Had you fucked up somewhere?

"You always ruin the moment with that." She wasn't smiling, or scowling, and there wasn't anything hostile or hurt in her eyes. You couldn't read her. Unexplored territory. She came even closer, stepping so that her feet were on either side of your legs. Your vision blurred as she knelt down, straddling your things. She was soft, her usual perfume faded and mixed with the delectable smells of Thanksgiving dinner, and her hands were coming around your neck.

You swallowed, not daring to move lest you scared her off or something. What was she doing? She couldn't be, just, simply, that was too easy, you were being delusional-

She was soft there too. Glossy, tangy like cranberries, gentle and slow. She kissed you. Regina kissed you. You held your breath for a moment, not even realizing it, and shuddered as it released. She smiled against your mouth.

"C'mon, jorts." She whispered, lips brushing against yours as she talked. Her eyes, so close you couldn't really even look into them, glinted in mirth. "Kiss me back."

Your hands snared around her back, pulling her close to your body, as your lips found hers again. She giggled and you swallowed the sound, feeling it expand in your chest like sunlight.

Even hidden in her bedroom, sharing a kiss you didn't know would mean anything- could mean anything- there was nowhere else you'd rather have been.

Notes: We're still not at the climax. Or, well, we're very close, very much in it, but The Moment is yet to happen. Everybody knows it'll get worse before it gets better. That's just how it goes. So, have this fluff before it's yanked away from you! <3

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx, @ayoungexwife, @cyberbonesworld, @syddie-reads, @screechcat

(holy moly there's a lot of you. if you wanna be added to the taglist, say so in the comments!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #lesbian regina george #mean girls x reader #wlw #fic: yard work

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anundyingfidelity · 1 month

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AFFECTION — Soldier Boy

Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.

Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.

the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla

(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.

Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.

You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.

The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.

"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.

"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.

"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."

"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.

"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.

"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."

Ben rolled his eyes.

"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.

You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"

Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.

"The fuck you want?"

You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.

Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.

"What the fuck was that?"

You giggled. "Affection."

He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."

You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."

"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.

"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"

"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."

He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."

Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."

"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.

You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.

"Do it again."

"Excuse me?"

"The stupid hug, do it again."

You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"

"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"

His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.

"Thanks!"

You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.

soldier boy / reader

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy x y/n #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys series #the boys fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #soldier boy fluff

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luffyrose · 1 year

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We're back with another dc x dp, coming to you this time on my phone while hang in off the back of my couch. Is blood rushing to my head? Yes.

Either way, I had a random thought about how personally as a child, I was a little monkey, like if my parents had actually had the thought to put me in gymnastics I would probably be a menace to society. And so my thought was, what if Danny was like that too?

Danny had always been very hyper, like, bounce of the walls, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE FRIDGE-" kind of hyper. When he started to climb, hang, flip, and just about break something just to have some fun, Jazz finally tried to get their parents to sign him up for gymnastics.

They didn't.

Both had been very happy at the idea, but when it came down to it, they just forgot. And one time without actually paying attention to the two, said gymnastics was for girls, ultimately shattering Danny's budding hobby. Jazz of course didn't just let that dream go, instead finding anything she could to let him learn on his own, at the very least, she made sure he was capable enough to pick it up in his teenage years should he finally get a chance to take classes.

That didn't end up happened either.

He'd died, become Phantom, accidentally become Crown Prince of the Infinite realms, and now had to deal with superheroes realizing that something was up in Amity. More specifically, a credible news reporter finally came to the town and settled the real or not debate in one swift "WTF IS THAT-" upon seeing a giant robot hunter thing(it was Skulker).

Along with all that, his parents, or more specifically his mother, was finally noticing something was wrong. Almost two years after he died, she finally took a second to look at him, and was disturbed. So Danny, being optimistic as he can be, tries to tell them, which goes horribly wrong and ends in a lab explosion and Danny 'stuck' in the Ghost Zone. Really Jazz blew the portal up after reaching her own breaking point and immediately called CPS on her parents since Danny was never gonna come back to them.

Danny all ouchy, there goes my parents because the two destroyed their blood bond by intentionally aiming to harm him instead of the weird loophole they'd been in before. Clockwork being Clockwork yeets him over to Gotham, giving Jazz a note about it.

Over in Gotham, he's actually thrown right from a portal in the aky hurdling down toward one of the city's rogues. Whoever it is, the Batfam are like "wtf-" at the clearly confused child that suspiciously looks like they're one of the Waynes, and so they just take him back. Doesn't help that they're worried since he just got thrown from who knows where and definitely did not take that fall well- also doesn't help that he's clearly bleeding and severely injured.

Danny, after Alfred forces him to rest from injuries, is so hyper. His hyperness had gone into his vigilantism, so now with nothing to deter it, he was going crazy and he felt so stiff.

Cue one of the sibkings walking in to find the kid hanging dangerously off something and just going "hi". Dick has a new favorite(not really he still loves all his siblings the same...maybe Damian and new kid are a smidge higher, but they're younger so it doesn't count).

When he takes the kid to the gym in their house, he is literally running around and getting onto everything. Now Dick has accidentally acquired little acrobatic brother that he's determined to help out with getting better.

Best part, Danny doesn't even realize the others are like "welp he's family now" and is just thinking they're very nice for being rich. He doesn't trust Bruce too much though, sure rich people's mids could be chill(take Sam for example) but parents themselves were iffy.

No one knows how to react to the truth bombs he randomly drops without even realizing it either.

Dick, watching Danny haning upside down from a bar for the last like 10 minutes: whatcha doin buddy?

Danny: thinking about my parents.

Damian, who's also been watching the whole tome but would never admit it: Your parents?

Danny, yeeting himself off the bar with no sense of self preservation: yeah, they told me they'd sign me up for gymnastics. Never did. Claimed it was only for girls. Although I think that was the same day our oven came alive on accident and almost set me on fire so...they were pretty distracted.

Dick, staring in actual horror for many reasons: What?!

Damian, also horrified but not showing it as much: Your oven came alive...?

Danny, who still isn't paying attention and already having forgotten what he said: how do you do that thing you showed me earlier?

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #ghost king danny #danny fenton #dc comics #dick grayson #damian wayne #jazz fenton #batfamily #batfam

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captainsophiestark · 6 months

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Happy Ending

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day 22 Prompt: "Who takes care of you?"

Summary: What if Luke had come by to see Y/N, his pre-betrayal best friend and SO, instead of Annabeth between books 3 and 4?

Word Count: 4,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I really loved the vibes of this post by @m4gp13 so this is very loosely inspired by it, even though the main body of the story doesn't have much to do with it lol

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, staring at the piles of boxes on the floor of my dorm room. The spring semester of my second year of college was just coming to a close, and I still had a lot to do to be ready for everything after it finished. I was moving into my own apartment for the summer, and needed to move from the dorm room to my new apartment. As soon as that was over, I'd planned a visit to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp for heroes I kept going back to, even though I was technically an adult.

I needed to pack everything in my dorm, move it to my apartment, and then be able to unpack everything I'd need for a few weeks visiting camp. This packing job would need to be strategically worthy of Athena.

I'd just barely managed to psych myself up to get started when a knock came at my door. I huffed a sigh, but I really didn't mind the distraction all that much.

"Coming!" I called. I glanced out the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Luke Castellan staring back at me.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I looked again and saw he had no monsters with him, at least not visibly, but I couldn't understand why he would come here without them.

Luke had been one of my closest friends in the world since we met as kids, on the run together from our mutually shitty families. We'd met first, then found Thalia and Annabeth after. Luke and I were the same age, and we'd been thick as thieves since day one, Hermes pun intended. As we'd gotten older, a small crush I'd had on Luke had grown massive, and luckily for me he'd returned my feelings. We'd been happily dating and in love ever since, until two summers ago, when he'd betrayed me and every single one of our friends and joined Kronos.

I'd barely talked to him since. We only had contact once and a while, and every time, it went the same way. I was hurt, he was apologetic but not willing to change any of his decisions. Me and the rest of Camp fought him and his monsters, and I tried not to fall apart at the loss of the love of my life.

The distraction provided by college had been a serious, serious relief.

But now, Luke was here. In the middle of space where I very intentionally avoided thinking about him, on my doorstep for whatever reason. And I had no idea what to do.

"Y/N? I know you're in there. I'm here under a flag of truce. I just want to talk."

Just like that, any desire to duck and hide crumbled. The rational part of my brain screamed at me that he could be lying, that this might just be a trap, but I ignored it. After everything we'd been through, if Luke said he wanted to talk, I wanted to hear him out.

I opened the door, and Luke's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw me. I wanted to dart forward and wrap him in a hug, something I hadn't been able to do in two years, but I held myself back. Luke shifted a little from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward, so after a second's hesitation I stepped to the side.

"Would you like to come in?"

He gave me a suspicious look, like he thought it was a trap or a trick or something. My heart shattered in my chest. How had things gone this wrong, that we stood on opposite sides of the door as basically strangers?

"My house is a mess, because I'm in the middle of packing up to move, but... if you want to talk, Luke, I feel like the hallway isn't gonna be the best place to do it."

He gave me a curt nod, not quite meeting my eyes as he walked past me into my apartment. I glanced down the hallway, taking one last look to make sure we didn't have any lingering monsters, but things were deserted. I sighed and went back into my apartment, closing the door behind me.

I found Luke hovering in the space between the kitchen and the living room, surveying things with a strange look on his face. I moved toward him carefully, not getting too close in case I spooked him.

"Do you want some tea or something? I haven't packed my electric kettle yet-"

"I think tea might take longer than the five minutes I promised."

I turned to look at Luke, raising one eyebrow in challenge, a little bit of our old rapport back. He shifted his weight around and glanced towards the door, then met my eyes again.

"Luke... is some giant monster going to burst through my door in five minutes? Or an army of small monsters, or anything under that general monster-army umbrella?"

"What? No, no, there's... no. I'm here under a flag of truce. There's nothing coming to hurt you, and when I leave... I'll leave."

"Okay then," I said, deciding not to comment on just how shaken and pale Luke looked, at least not right now. "Then I'm giving you a pass on the five minutes. And electric kettles take like two seconds anyway, seriously. They're magical."

Luke huffed, shaking his head as an incredulous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. My heart squeezed, but I made myself move towards the kitchen and act like things were normal.

"Take a seat, Luke. Or come pick your tea."

Luke took the second option, and my heart doubled its speed when I felt him hovering behind me, closer than we'd been in a long time if you didn't count combat. He leaned over my shoulder to point to the bag of black tea on my counter, and I nodded as I poured the hot water into our cups. I dropped two teabags in each of our drinks, then turned to Luke with a smile.

He stood a little more than a foot from me, and he took the cup from my hands carefully, like he didn't want this bubble of peace and normalcy to burst either. I stared into his beautiful, bright blue eyes, a smile growing on my face again despite myself. I'd missed this. A lot.

The moment lasted another few seconds, and then Luke cleared his throat and looked away. He took a tentative sip of his tea, then looked at me again, his face deadly serious.

"I don't know how to say this. I... I learned some things recently, about some plans I wasn't aware of before."

He paused and took another sip of his tea, and his hand shook a little as he brought the mug away from his lips. Shock coursed through my body as I realized Luke was scared.

"Kronos, he- he's going to use me. He's going to use me to take over the world. This summer... he's going to use me like a stepping stone, until he gets so much power he's unstoppable."

"Luke... what are you saying?"

His eyes had wandered to stare holes in the wall of my kitchen while he'd talked, but now they snapped back to me, wide and full of urgency.

"I'm saying I want to run away. I want us to run away, like the old days. Before... before he gets the chance to carry out his plan."

I stared at Luke for a few minutes, then shook my head, scoffing and pushing past him into the living room of my house. I paced a little, trying to make sense of what he'd just told me. What he'd just asked of me.

"Luke... I don't know what to say!" I finally admitted, completely honest as I turned back to him. He watched me, his expression guarded. "I don't... I don't think I can just run away. Not from the life I've managed to build, not from our friends still here and risking their lives!"

"So that's it, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his tone angry. "Your answer's no?"

I huffed a laugh, staring at anything in the room except for Luke and trying to think. My brain was working a million miles an hour, but I still needed a little bit of time to think things through. But I wasn't sure I had time.

"Okay, Luke, can we sit down for a minute? Actually talk about this?" I said, taking slow steps towards him. I set my mug down on the nearest table, then reached out to gently rest my hands on his. A storm of emotions raged behind his eyes, but he didn't stop me or pull away. "This is a lot to take in all at once. Can we work through this together?"

His jaw worked like he was holding back some retort, but he let me pull him along towards the couch. Slowly, together, we sank down onto the cushions. I only pulled one hand back, and made sure our knees rested against each other, hoping it would do something to help keep Luke grounded.

"I don't want to run," I said simply, meeting his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking ready with an outburst again, but I continued before he could. "But Luke, think about it. Where are we gonna go that he doesn't find you, especially if he wants to? Monsters can sniff us out. We'd never, ever be able to live another day without looking over our shoulders."

Luke's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head miserably as he stared at the half-full mug in his hand.

"Then there's no hope."

"That's not what I said. And it's also not true." Luke scoffed, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye. I looked right back. "If you don't want to follow through on what Kronos is asking of you, why not just come back with me? To Camp, to my somewhat normal life. I have an apartment with space for two. You could even enroll with me next semester, if you wanted to."

Luke shook his head. He pursed his lips as he raised his head to meet my eyes again.

"And let the Olympians continue exploiting us? Let them keep destroying people and lives because we don't matter to them?"

I huffed a sigh. "Look, I'm not their biggest fan either, but right now it seems like it's 'let Kronos kill you' or 'stop fighting the Olympians'."

Luke shook his head again, more energized this time, more angry. He stared at the wall ahead of us, the same hurt and bitterness I'd seen from him over the years burning in his eyes.

"It's just not right. There should be something we can do. Something that isn't Kronos, but isn't letting the Olympians win."

And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.

"Luke... what if there was a way we could do that?"

****************

That night, Luke and I stayed up until almost two in the morning brainstorming and working out the details of my plan. When we finally decided to get some sleep, he stayed with me, and curling up in the same tiny twin bed, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, had me more at peace and ease than I had been in a long, long time.

The next morning, we finalized a few things over breakfast. Then, there was nothing left to do but put our plan into action.

Luke stayed in the apartment, tasked with keeping his head down and finishing packing for me, since I had other places I had to be. Namely, Camp Half-Blood. A little earlier than I'd talked about with Chiron, and hopefully, before the place was crawling with campers for the summer.

Thankfully, it didn't take me too long to get to Camp. I arrived a little after lunch and found the place expectedly deserted. From the top of the hill, I could see some of the year-rounders moving around the lake. I tried to keep them from noticing me as I headed straight for the Big House.

I paused just outside the front door to steel my nerves one last time, then marched inside. I found Chiron and Mr. D sitting together, apparently deep in conference. They both looked up when they noticed me, matching looks of surprise on their faces (although Chiron's had a noticeably happier edge to it).

"Y/N! We weren't expecting you for another few weeks-"

"I'm not staying for long. Something just came up that I needed to talk to you about right away. To both of you, actually, especially Mr. D."

He raised a bored eyebrow in my direction but otherwise didn't move. Chiron motioned to a chair at the table.

"By all means, please."

"That's alright, I think I'll stand," I said. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine. I would not back down, wouldn't leave until I'd succeeded. Luke and I's future depended on it.

I took a moment to make very intentional, determined eye contact with Mr. D. His other eyebrow raised.

"I'm here to bargain for a pardon for Luke Castellan."

Silence. Both Chiron and Mr. D just stared at me for a few long moments, then turned to look at each other. Chiron looked concerned, but Mr. D burst out laughing.

"He's a traitor and an enemy of Olympus! This has all been very boring and ridiculous, and a waste of our time. Get out."

Mr. D's last word had a firey threat behind it, but I didn't flinch.

"You and the rest of the Olympians are perfectly aware what a threat Kronos presents. Everybody's getting scared, and they should be. He's got a plan for returning to his Titan form, the one he had before he was defeated the first time, before Zeus cut him apart and cast him into Tartarus. And it's a plan that he can definitely make succeed.

"Luke knows all about this plan. Obviously. And he's willing to defect and tell you all about it, so we can stop it before it happens. But you have to give him a complete pardon, sworn on the River Styx by Zeus."

Mr. D snorted again, this time raising from his chair and taking a few threatening steps towards me. I still didn't back down.

"Y/N, listen," Chiron interrupted, shuffling forward a little bit to stand partially in between me and Mr. D. "If you have information that could save Olympus and the camp-"

"Oh, I have some. Just like Chris Rodriguez had some. But Luke has all of it. And you're not getting any of it without giving him a pardon first."

"Or we could force it out of you before finding your little boyfriend and doing the same to him," said Mr. D, his tone light but his eyes blazing. Chiron started to step in again, but I spoke up before he got the chance.

"You haven't been able to find him this long, you won't be able to find him now. And anybody who knows anything about interrogations knows that torture just plain and simple doesn't work for getting information." Mr. D grunted, but we both knew I had him there. "Besides, if Luke gets his pardon, that means more than just getting all the information from Kronos' former right hand man. It also means that Kronos loses said right hand man, who's been organizing and leading a lot of the work so far."

Chiron and Mr. D shared a look, and I tried not to let it show just how much my heart was racing. For the first time since I'd walked in here, I actually felt a glimmer of hope that my plan might succeed. Chiron turned back to me, the worried look still on his face.

"Y/N... what makes you so confident that Luke wants to defect?"

"He sought me out," I answered simply, trying to dance around his location at least a bit. "He's realizing quickly just how bad Kronos would and could be, and he's scared. Terrified. He wants a way out, so when he found me, he asked me to run away with him. I suggested trying this plan first, mostly so I don't have to leave behind everyone else I love. But also because, this way, you might stand a chance against Kronos that you wouldn't have if we'd left without offering information."

The conversation continued for almost another hour, centered mostly around Mr. D making threats and, when I didn't back down, reminding me that I was trying to demand something of Zeus. He made plenty of good points, but I'd thought through all the ways this plan could go terribly, painfully wrong with Luke before I'd come here. I wasn't going to give in, for anything.

Finally, after restating my points and my argument a few times, Mr. D agreed to bring my request to Mount Olympus. I waited anxiously in the Big House with Chiron, whose brow remained deeply creased the entire time. I didn't engage, intentionally avoiding the conversation he looked like he wanted to have, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I started to get worried as the evening came, but finally, Mr. D reappeared. The first time he'd delivered his news, I honestly hadn't believed him. I asked him to repeat himself, which he rolled his eyes over, but the words were the same. Somehow, by some miracle, I'd managed to succeed.

Zeus was willing to give Luke his pardon in exchange for information and defecting.

I wasn't a complete idiot, so made sure the terms were clear when Mr. D brought me to Olympus to witness the oath. The words covered any retaliation, punishment, or harm that might come to Luke, and completely prevented it. Zeus spoke the words and the sky rumbled with lightning. I tried not to shake in relief or from the adrenaline dump as I bowed and promised he wouldn't regret his decision. Hermes shot me a grateful look on my way out, and I returned his nod. He'd been awful to Luke, but we were aligned in not wanting to see him dead, and I got the feeling Hermes had been helpful in pleading my case.

When we returned to the Big House, I headed for the door as quickly as possible, promising to bring Luke back with me in a week when I'd been planning to return anyway. I still had to move out and then move in to a new place again, and Luke had assured me that week of time wouldn't cost the war.

I raced back home, breaking almost every traffic law in the process, but I didn't care at all. I called out to Luke from the hallway, so he wouldn't be scared when I flung the door open, then rushed to wrap him in a giant hug. We sank to the floor together, crying in relief, and stayed like that for a long, long time.

The next week felt like a dream. Luke and I finished packing up my old apartment, then moved together into the new one, which we'd started calling 'ours'. We had to duck monsters a few times, and Luke was still in significant danger, but this time we were on the same side. As we settled into our new place on the last night before we were supposed to head back to camp, I quite literally couldn't have been happier.

It was a little strange returning to camp with Luke, but I quickly got over my own concerns when I saw how tense he was. I held his hand the whole way in, and thankfully, we'd still managed to get here before most of the summer campers. Luke and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the Big House while he told Mr. D and Chiron everything about Kronos and his operation. It took hours, and I could tell Luke struggled to get a lot of it out. But he did.

It had taken long enough that we decided to stay the night, even though I could see Luke clearly didn't want to. We stayed in the Big House, and the next morning, we finished the last of the intel-sharing before heading back home.

Chiron stopped Luke on the way out the door with a hand on his shoulder and said he was so happy to have Luke back. Luke just nodded, but I squeezed his hands as I noticed a single tear making its way down his cheek as we left.

"You know..." I said as we climbed in the car. I was driving, and Luke stared determinedly out the window. "Chiron's probably not the only one who'd be happy to have you back. There might be some apology tour type-stuff, but for the most part... I think you'd get a warm welcome home."

Luke just gave a noncommittal grunt, and I let it go. That was a bridge we could cross later.

For now, we still had one final part of our plan to put into action.

The reason Luke had joined Kronos in the first place was because he'd been neglected by his Olympic parent, especially since his mortal parent had been in such a bad place. He'd discovered the hard way that Kronos was no better alternative, but the fact remained that the gods used their mortal children at best, and at worst completely ignored them for their entire lives.

We needed to find a third option, some middle ground way to make things better. So, we decided to be the change we wanted to see.

As legal adults with a newly moved-in apartment that had a decent amount of space, we had the power to make our home a space for demigods who had nowhere else to go. If their immortal parents were neglecting them and things weren't good with their mortal parent either, they could come to us. For a little while, or to stay for good. We made our own little sanctuary, then shared it with all the kids like us who'd needed it.

Over time, the operation expanded, and we moved into a bigger apartment with more space. Thanks in part to Luke and I, Camp Half-Blood won the war, and we were able to do even more once Kronos stopped being a threat. What had started as not much more than a dream of doing good had turned into a loud, busy, happy house with people constantly coming and going.

Which is how we'd ended up in an alleyway talking to a scared teenager, after helping defeat a monster who'd been bearing down on him.

"Who takes care of you?" asked Luke, a sympathetic and understanding frown on his face as we stood a little ways from the kid. We didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but we'd gotten good at spotting the signs of a young Half-Blood in distress and helping them.

"I take care of myself," the kid spit. I tried not to glance at Luke.

"We used to do that, too," I said, moving a little closer to Luke. "We both ran away from home, survived on the streets, although I guess we really took care of each other."

"Now, we take care of people like you," Luke continued, right where I'd left off. "Do you know what you are?"

The kid hesitated, then half shook his head. He at least had some idea, then.

"You're a Half-Blood," I said. "Half mortal, half immortal Olympian god."

"...What?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to process," said Luke. "But the longer the three of us sit in this alley, the more likely it is another monster's gonna come and pick a fight."

We managed to get the kid up and moving, heading back for our apartment. On the way, we explained more about the Olympians, and told him about Camp Half-Blood.

"It's a good place to get training, and to meet other Half-Bloods like you," I said. "A place for heroes."

"It's only one option, though," Luke added. The kid nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but excited as we stopped outside our apartment door.

"And... what's the other option?"

Luke and I shared a smile, then he pushed open the door to our apartment.

Inside, we were immediately greeted with a wave of noise and excitement. We'd left Ethan Nakamura, one of the Half-Bloods Luke had met away from camp, in charge, and he'd been leading the rest of our group in basic combat lessons.

"What... what is this place?"

"A place for normal kids who need somebody to take care of them," Luke answered. "You'll still get training, since monsters will always be trying to kill you."

"But we won't ever ask anything of you, other than to do your own damn dishes," I said. "No dangerous quests, no tribute to the gods. Just our own little makeshift family going through life together."

Luke put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple as Ethan noticed our newcomer and waved him over to join in the fun. Luke and I stayed where we were, watching the bubble of happiness we'd made together with smiles on our faces. We'd gone through hell and back to get here, but as far as I was concerned, every moment of pain had been worth it for Luke and I's happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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Something something, Bruce accidentally keeps adopting his friends' wards. It doesn't sit well with his kids.

Diana's been training Yara for a little over a year. She's scrappy, brave, and unafraid to stand up for herself against the world. She reminds Bruce of a dearly beloved Ghost, and even dearer son.

" Oh wow. You're, uh. You're Batman. Love your work. I mean, Princess Di says you should take it easier since mortals don't fight gods, but it's so cool to me that you do. My mom died too! ...Sorry. Can you sign my pegasus?"

"...For?"

" Jerry. I mean, -- Yara! Sorry."

" Meeting new people isn't exactly my forte. It's fine. Is my training plan working for you? We can adjust it together."

"Oh! Well, I have some cool ideas,-"

For some, emotion gets lost when it comes to Batman. They see a wall of stone and tragedy, nothing beyond a twitch of lips reminding them there's a man wearing the cowl, not the other way around.

Dick's mouth is hanging open as he watches the blank expression on Bruce's face, patient with the excitable rambling in front of him. He rarely looks so happy on patrol.

"He smiled at her!"

Damian is very stubborn. He just won't accept it. Not even with the evidence of Diana's student taking a stream of selfies with his Baba, where he even smiles in one of them!

" Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. That's reaching a new low of stupid, even for you."

" Okay, one. I'm a very capable detective who thought YOU the robin ways. If I'm an idiot, you're an idiot."

" ...TT."

" Second... It wouldn't hurt to be home more often. I think he's lonely."

Damian frowns, " Baba deserves better than pity scraps. And you deserve better than forcing yourself to be here when you're not ready. It's unfair to you both."

"...Maybe I'm not an idiot after all."

The real challenge? The superboys.

"It's not that serious, Dames."

" Not that serious?!" Damian hisses when he's sad, it's a well known fact, " He put MY stickers on your bandages. You don't even NEED bandages!"

Jon shrugs, maybe, perhaps, intentionally flaunting the pink dragon stickers on his wrist. Accepting to arm wrestle Cass had been a bad idea, " It's a nice gesture."

Damian points a finger at him, then calms himself with a hollow breath, " I'm going to walk away. My therapist would be extremely proud of me."

But the bets were off when Jason visited.

"...What's your boy toy doing in my room?"

Tim drags a hand over his face as Kon whistles a marry tune, lounged comfortably on Jason's bed like a spoiled cat, " Dad Invited him over for dinner."

" I just figured it'd be nice to settle in! Since I'll be moving in soon and all," Kon smiles very smugly, " Bruce needs someone around since you just hate being here so much. You don't mind, right?"

" You know," Tim figures he should at least try to stop the slaughter, " I think Alfred's cookies are done. Let's go check."

Jason's radiating murder, " I think it's time for you to go home."

" Oh, I'd really love to see you make me."

Tim discovers Kon is immune to bullets, but not to being crashed through a wall.

#yara flor #bruce wayne #batman #batdad #damian wayne #jon kent #conner kent #GIVE ME JASON AND KON RIVALRY #yara 🤝 kon 🤝 jon - steal your dad club #dick grayson #batfamily #protective batfamily #text #writing #dc #dc comics #dc imagines

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admiringtheskies · 9 months

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okay, so The Hyperfixation Is Hyperfixating, clearly, and honestly im just gonna continue going with it bc THEM— *screams* ANYWAYS @frownyalfred uhhhhhh hope you enjoy this as well! without further ado, another idea inspired by the incomparable ✨borderline✨ that just would NOT leave me alone until i got it all down into actual real words:

at some point further in the timeline of borderline'verse, when they've finally got the whole situation mostly under control, the batfam (whenever they accompany bruce, or multiple kids go together by themselves so they're in batclan mode, to do jl/other crossover shit) sort of ends up just doing the whole Bat-Danger-Aura thing, like, Constantly; somewhat unintentionally, but also with not much effort really made to rein it in, bc they do think the reactions are hilarious lol. and like, the thing is, they were ALREADY doing it pre-bond, pretty much right from whenever dick, jason, or both made their first appearance w bruce outside of gotham and first established the existence of mini-bats for the outside world — i mean, that sense of leashed power, as well as the eerie synchronicity and ability to communicate in the tiniest of gestures, was really just a natural consequence of the crime-fighting codependency and the training bruce put them through, originally. (as you may be able to tell, i have an Extremely Normal Amount of Feelings about the concept of cryptid batfam <3). but WITH the bond?? i mean, the kids are all connected to each other, yes, but their primary connections are all to BRUCE, and once they've had time to adjust, and set + actually semi-consistently enforce some basic boundaries, they absolutely take pride in using that to it's fullest advantage (that they're capable of while not intentionally compromising anybody's autonomy, anyways).

and like… OP's already touched on this in earlier chapters briefly a few times, but i NEED a thorough exploration of the idea of bruce seeing this change in them, seeing them subconsciously incorporate even just these little subtle mannerisms, and feeling so fucking guilty about it and spiraling bc he's terrified that all of his self-destructive qualities [that he's painfully aware of in himself] will transfer over to the children, who somehow never seem to realize that how proud and grateful they make him when they demonstrate their DIFFERENCES from him in those regards. and he's just so scared that he'll somehow ruin the few parts of them he thinks he's miraculously managed to avoid 'tainting' with his mentorship/fatherhood until now… …and meanwhile the kids are about to start crying because dad no what the fuck,,, but also facepalming a little bit bc jesus CHRIST, B, did you never even stop to consider the fact that you're just… really fuckin smart and skilled and know how to do a frankly ungodly amount of Cool Shit that we all share an interest in, and we were excited to have the chance to copy more of that shit too?! just, even beyond the great mental image of the Danger Walk, what really got me about that scene was just... his two oldest boys, who are already so much like him, not hesitating for a SECOND to gleefully take the chance to match his behavior even MORE perfectly, and wanting to know where he learned something as (relatively, by their standards) simple as the Serious Business Walk, and wanting to share that memory because it's just fuckin cool, y'all! like, to be clear, i absolutely respect the fact that, at least by the time that they're entering adulthood/in the prime of their mental and physical youth, any of the batkids are pretty much on, or definitely rapidly approaching, the same level as bruce in general badassery — and they probably each have 1 or 2 specific skillsets in which they can and do surpass him. but at the same time, you CANNOT convince me that, at any given point in the established DC timeline, there exists a non-bruce batfam character who can really look at bruce (like his personality, his aforementioned ridiculous skillset, i mean everything about him) and not see at least ONE quality in him that they aspire to. maybe it's something they already have and just can't see in themselves, maybe it's more a projection of something one of their other siblings has and shares with bruce, maybe it's just some skill, some random combat move, that he doesn't need very often, and so when he does use it, it briefly reminds them that "holy shit, he's The Fucking Batman" — but there's always SOMETHING there, some reason that even when they're having trouble communicating or arguing or emotions are running high, they'll never truly lose that respect for him that compels these ridiculously independent, self-sufficient people to willingly follow him: to listen to him, to trust him, and to keep themselves ready to unite under his lead. because nobody can argue that they are a clan, whose purpose comes from being first united under the guidance and protection and love of the bat.

#borderline #batman #batfam #bruce wayne meta #bruce wayne is a good dad #dc batman #cryptid batfam #telepathic connection

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lazycats-stuff · 10 months

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LIL BABY BAT N HIS LIL BABY KNIVES OOOH😭

the cutest thing omg im obsessed

can i request jason teaching lil blade baby how to use his knives? maybe jus smthn small like how to hold them properly, or just cleaning or storing them (at least what he teaches while bruce is around lol)

I can actually see Jason be like, so this is how you gut a mafia lieutenant and then Bruce walking by and Jason saying like, okay, this is how you hold it properly so you don't cut yourself.

Here are the rest of the parts: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

Summary: Jason is teaching (Y/N) about blades, even things that Bruce doesn't like. Bruce has no evidence.

Ever since Bruce and family reached a compromise with the dulled down blades, Jason has become a main teacher and mentor for (Y/N). And Bruce had to admit, Jason was a good teacher. He made sure to really show (Y/N) what the blades can do. When they are not taken care of, he showed it to (Y/N).

(Y/N) was horrified when he saw the uncared blades.

Also, he showed to (Y/N) what happens when you don't hold the blade properly, you can cut yourself. And Jason intentionally cut himself once to show (Y/N). Bruce wasn't sure whether to be impressed or not. And Jason made sure to teach (Y/N) to never use them on people. Ever.

But he had to agree, Jason was a good teacher. He was patient with (Y/N), explaining everything multiple times if necessary. And he made sure that (Y/N) wasn't hurt. That was one of the things that Bruce had said to Jason.

But he didn't say nor specified what not to teach him.

So, Jason had a free reign of what to teach (Y/N). It was always a fun when Jason had to switch from being a cool brother to a serious brother who followed the rules. It was honestly a very good thing that Bruce didn't catch on.

But Bruce did think that something was going on. Unfortunately, he couldn't specify what.

He was trying to walk in or just walk by, but every time he walked by the room where they practiced or just cared for the blades together. But every time he tried to do that, just quietly walked by, everything seemed fine, but Bruce knew something was off.

Maybe he could find out once. Did he really have to hatch a plan to catch one kid and one adult in his own house? Well, one adult who can be classified as a menace and a kid who is a magnet for trouble.

One day, Bruce was just walking down the hall. He heard Jason and (Y/N), spending time together. He smiled at the sound, but the words that Jason was saying were... Concerning.

" Okay, so, hold the handle. Now, I'm going to show you how to use it from behind. "

Bruce frowned at that. What the hell is Jason saying? He moved closer to the door.

" Okay, watch me. Just do this. And that's how you get somebody from behind. "

Bruce has heard enough to just enter. (Y/N) jumped, but Jason remained calm. As if he heard Bruce coming.

" (Y/N), can you go find Dick? I think he is the garden. " Bruce said to the young boy.

" Am I in trouble? " (Y/N) asked, probably sensing that Bruce's was angry.

" You're not in trouble. I just need to talk to Jason. Adult talk. "

" Is he in trouble? " (Y/N) asked, looking at Jason.

" No he isn't. " Bruce assured his son. (Y/N) gave both Bruce and Jason hugs before leaving to find Dick.

Once Bruce knew that (Y/N) was out of earshot, he turned to Jason.

" Why are you teaching him how to use a blade from behind? " Bruce asked, crossing his arms.

" Well, if he is ever in that situation, he needs to know that. " Jason defended himself.

" Jason, he's eight! " Bruce said, raising his voice a little.

" And your son! He has your last name! That's an automatic target on your back! " Jason said, defending himself with much more fervor.

Bruce sighed, knowing that there is some truth in there.

" Fair enough, but I don't need you to teach him how to kill. Teach him some self defense without a weapon then. " Bruce asked Jason.

" Okay, I understand that. But the man is the more interested in the blades rather than martial arts. " Jason said, crossing his arms.

" I know, but you can put some sort of bug in his ear. You can try. "

Jason sighed. " If you want me to try, but that kid is smart. He can sense shit. " Jason said.

" I am just asking you to try. "

" I will try to. "

Bruce thanked him and went to see what was happening with his son. His son doesn't need to know how to use those blades. Maybe when he is older, but most definitely not now.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batkids #batfamily #red hood x male reader #batman x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader

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abarbaricyalp · 2 months

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I thought there was a Post-TFATWS space, but there's not, so have another Free Space fill! @sambuckylibrary

Based on a Daily Fluff Diary post! // cw: injury in the last section // AO3 Link

Knock Before Entering

It's not that Joaquin hasn't seen them make out before. It comes with the territory of spending long amounts of time with two people not only deeply horny for each other, but also just deeply in love. He tries not to think about it. Tries to forget that Barnes clearly needs an outlet for adrenaline after a fight. Tries not to pay attention when a closet door shuts on the jet. Tries to ignore the eyes Sam shoots Barnes that has them both vacating a shared space.

They're good about it. Don't get up in each other's space intentionally when he's around. Barely even touch if they're all sharing a room. One time, Barnes had even slept on the floor instead of sharing a bed with Sam. Though Joaquin had woken at some point in the night and found Sam's arm hanging off the bed and Barnes's arm reaching up so they could hold hands anyway. At least it was his prosthetic arm, so Joaquin assumed he didn't need to worry about a blood rush.

The point is, it's not a secret that Sam and Barnes are together. And they're usually pretty good at keeping to themselves.

Which is why it shouldn't be surprising but certainly is when Joaquin walks back into Sam's office from hunting down the new drone prototype he'd been reporting on and finds Sam half sprawled across his desk with Barnes crowded between his legs, following him down.

Joaquin smacks a hand over his eyes like a child. It means he drops the drone, but it's live, so it just hovers next to him. "Guys, gross!" he snaps, also like a child. It did kind of feel like seeing his parents making out for the first time.

_____

He can hear them spring apart, like it's a surprise that he's back. He'd literally been gone for five minutes tops. He just had to run to his room and get this. He'd told Sam where he was going. He hears a slight exchange of shoves and elbows before Barnes says, "Drop your hand, kid."

Joaquin does after several more seconds, when he's sure the coast is clear. Sam's behind his desk again, Bucky leaning a hip up against the side of it like he belongs here.

"Where did you even come from?" Joaquin asks finally when it seems like no one else is going to volunteer anything.

"World War II," Barnes answers like the smartass he is. "Brooklyn."

“I was gone for three minutes," Joaquin clarified through his teeth. He wants to sit down, thinks better of it, stays just inside the doorway. "What if I was someone else?"

Barnes's mouth quirks a little. It's as much a confirmation as Joaquin will ever get from the man that they are kind of their own little triumvirate. If it had happened under any other circumstance, Joaquin would be elated. Right now, he is not. “But you’re not, so relax, Tweety.”

Joaquin rolls his eyes and walks into the office, giving that side of the desk a wide berth. He sets the new drone down, along with a makeshift manual.

“Don’t go gettin’ attached to that side,” Barnes says.

“Don’t,” Sam warns.

But Barnes pushes on. “I’ve hauled him up on that side too.”

Joaquin doesn’t even both to groan. He just leaves the room again.

. . .

“Ready or not!” a small, but very loud, voice calls from somewhere else in the building.

Bucky ducks into Sam’s office because AJ is fast and if he doesn’t take cover now, he’s going to get caught. There’s a gorgeous wardrobe with a false back in the far corner, but Cass had hidden in there two rounds ago, so it’s likely to be one of the first places AJ looks. The desk is too much on AJ’s level for Bucky to hope to hide well under. By design, Bucky is too big to fit into the vents.

The curtains that hang from the windows don’t quite make it all the way to the floor, but Bucky figures his dark boots will blend into the shadows if he stands far enough to the corner. He can hear AJ’s sneakers on the tile, hurrying down the hallways and checking doors, so he jumps behind the curtain and tries to hold it still.

He jumps behind the curtain and directly onto Sam’s feet.

“Ow! Hey! I’m already here. Go find your own hiding place!” Sam hisses, shoving at Bucky’s shoulder futilely. Bucky intentionally digs his heels down into the ground. Sam glares at him, then takes a deliberate step closer. “If you don’t move, we’re both gonna get caught,” he threatens. “And you know AJ will go after you before he comes after me.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow in doubt. He was almost positive AJ and Cass were teaming up to find Sam, who had not been tagged ‘it’ yet in this game. Mostly because he kept cheating by using all his flight training to get up into the rafters where, even if he was seen, no one could climb up to tag him. Well, Bucky could, but it was too much work, honestly.

“I’m faster than you,” he points out. “And I’m not above tripping you.”

Sam rolls his eyes, leans in, kisses Bucky. It’s enough for Bucky to stop digging his heels in, but Sam gets just as distracted. Actually, instead of shoving Bucky out of the hiding spot, he halfway tries to climb up Bucky’s body. It sends Bucky stumbling back, the curtain getting tangled under his foot, and they both end up crashing against the window, curtain falling away in time for the office door to get pushed open.

“Ugh,” AJ says with so much disdain Bucky kind of can’t believe it. “I knew that’s what you two were doing instead of actually hiding. It’s no fun if you don’t try!”

“It’s all Sam’s fault.” Bucky accuses. The elbow into his ribs exacerbates the ache from falling into the window sill too. Still, he puts himself between Sam and AJ. “Go find your brother.”

“Nuh-uh,” AJ insists. “I found you two. I’m gonna tag you two.”

Sam snickers behind him, squirming away from the pinch Bucky’s trying to land on his hip. “You only need one of us,” he points out.

AJ’s mouth curls to one side with frustration. “I can’t find Cass,” he admits. “I need help.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky concedes. He steps away from Sam, towards AJ. Waits for Sam to relax. Then he grabs Sam around the waist, holding him still so AJ can run forward and tag him as the next seeker, much to Sam’s loud protests.

“Cheaters!” he cries between laughter. “Betrayal!” But it is ineffective in the long run.

. . .

There should be no one else at the compound, so Bucky’s lazily making out with Sam in his desk chair, Sam across his lap. Joaquin is doing Air Force stuff, the other young heroes are out of state or busy, the older heroes don’t really hang out there. There are no meetings scheduled, no tours, no new introductions. It’s just him, Sam, and the sunshine streaming in from the window.

It’s been a while since they’d been able to do something like this. Cap duties had taken Sam away and Bucky had been pointedly kicked off of the jet. He was still piecing it together, but he thought it might’ve had to do with Hydra. Why he was kept out of the loop with those things, Bucky couldn’t begin to guess, but whatever. In the time Sam was gone, Bucky managed to get himself hurt (which is why he should’ve been allowed on the jet) and Sam had come back so exhausted that, even when they were alone, they mostly just took the security of each other’s company to pass out for hours at a time.

But a quiet weekend and a, so far, quiet week had done wonders and now Sam is getting handsy as Bucky absently pets his chest, over his shoulder, and back down his arm. Contrary to what Joaquin thinks, they haven’t ever actually desecrated the office, but Bucky’s willing to break the streak. Especially when Sam’s fingers fall to his waistband and begin to rub out the indentions of his jeans from his hips.

“Come on, let’s break in the desk,” Bucky cajoles, opening his mouth, deepening the kiss as he licks into Sam’s mouth with more intensity than the afternoon had called for.

Sam laughs unexpectedly, sits back, stares. Bucky can tell when the answer is going to be a straight no. This is not necessarily a straight no, which is almost hot enough to get the job done on its own. Sam’s a daredevil. An adrenaline junkie. People think Bucky’s the bad influence, but it’s not always his fault.

Sam’s just about to pass his judgment, is already moving off of Bucky’s lap to sit on the desk, when the door opens. There’s no one there, which has Bucky pulling Sam away, halfway tossing him towards the window for a fast escape. His mind is already racing with the potential threat–a smoke bomb, a grenade, some other small danger that he can’t see over the width of the desk. He hears Sam grab the shield, a sure, defiant presence behind him.

No bomb goes off. Instead, an orange cat jumps up onto the desk.

“Goose?” Sam asks, lowering the shield.

“Danvers’s cat?” Bucky clarifies. “Oh, shit. No, get down!” he shouts, lunging for the cat sitting on top of Bucky’s leather jacket. But it’s too late. The cat vomits tentacles and ray guns and a glove (or maybe a hand) and slime all across the desk.

“Argh!” Bucky shouts, yanking his jacket free, which makes Goose hiss and jump down. Too late for that, Bucky hisses back in his head.

It’s only a split second later that Danvers appears, just as Goose is running out. She watches her with surprise, then looks at Sam. “Cap, I need your help,” she says. Then her nose scrunches and she looks to Bucky and his jacket. “You need to get that cleaned.”

Bucky really considers throwing it at her.

. . .

The reporters are following Sam, who is trying to answer their questions but it’s weirdly difficult to when they’re walking on his heels. The smoke of the battle is still wafting off of him, which he can’t even smell because of the concrete dust in his nostrils. The cameras flashing in his face are doing nothing to help the migraine digging through his head. He needed a med crew to tell everyone he was probably concussed and to leave him alone.

“Captain Wilson,” someone calls. It still sounds weird to hear it. That’s not really his title, but he’d stopped fighting it after the first few months. “You saved more than a dozen people in midair. How did you react so quickly?”

Sam’s shoulders and back ache at the reminder. “It’s my job,” he says. “I’m supposed to save people. These wings aren’t just a fine accessory, y’know.”

“Captain, how did you figure this plane would be attacked?” someone else asks. His office is so close. The door locks now. He has a couch with a weighted pillow that he can put over his face and drown out the lights and the noise.

“When we realized the target wasn’t physical riches, but riches of the soul and mind, it was a quick hop to the plane carrying the summit awardees and delegations.”

“Mr. Wilson, you saved lives and hope tonight. How many future conflicts do you think you stopped tonight?”

“What?” Sam asks. The words just will not slot into a logical order in his mind. “I can’t tell you anything about the future. Very good people were targeted tonight to stoke division and fear. They were targeted by bad people to get back at other bad people. It was a wholly unfair situation. I am grateful for the lives we were able to save. The damage was still large and there’s yet more clean up to do that affects hundreds of other good people. Please turn your attention, time, and resources towards doing something productive too. You don’t need wings to make a difference.”

The reporters mutter amongst themselves and Sam uses the opportunity to get a hand on the door knob, a foot halfway into his office.

“Sir, is there any update on Sergeant Barnes?”

The image of the building coming down on Bucky as he evacuates civilians flashes through Sam’s mind like a hot sword. The crackle of his comm device as it went dead mid-sentence. The silence that followed. Sam’s heart begins to thrum uncomfortably in his chest, rising up to choke out his throat. He can’t cry on camera.

“As far as I’m aware, no one has made contact with Sergeant Barnes as yet,” he starts to say.

Then the door opens. Bucky’s standing there, looking like a sight. There are bandages wrapped around his head and half of his face is bruised into a sickly black and purple. He’s covered in gashes and scrapes. His right arm is wrapped in a sling. He’s hobbling with one boot on and the other foot and ankle wrapped in even more bandages. He’s clearly in so much pain that all Sam wants to do is shove him down on a bed and keep him asleep until the serum can repair everything.

“I was dug out by the same people I had just gotten out of the building,” Bucky chuckles at the camera, like this is a normal press conference. Actually, that’s not true. If this was a normal press conference, he would be in a back room somewhere, glowering at every reporter and cameraperson he saw. He did not like public speaking. But here he is, looking like it’s his natural calling. “They made quick work of it too. Dragged me off to a med-tent. Felt right at home, huh?” he says, directing the last bit at Sam, since it’s usually Sam dragging him to medical.

Sam can’t answer. Can’t breathe. Bucky’s alive. He’s moving. He’s swollen six ways to Sunday, but he’s making jokes. He was in Sam’s office. Waiting for him.

“Excuse me, guys and dolls,” Bucky says with a wry look at the media. Wry, even though the bruising. So unfair. “I gotta do something real quick.”

And then he’s kissing Sam. It’s awkward and too warm. Both of their faces are different landscapes after the fight. They both smell terrible. Sam keeps getting medicinal alcohol in his mouth and Bucky accidentally peels off two of the butterfly bandages on Sam’s cheek as he holds his face.

It’s one of the best kisses of Sam’s life.

This time, he doesn’t let anything interrupt them.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a note or kudos on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #sbvday2024

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brostateexam · 2 months

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As a girl growing up in the ’80s and ’90s, there were two fictional bedrooms I really admired. The first was Claudia Kishi’s candy-stuffed hideaway, where The Baby-Sitters Club held all their meetings in the children’s book series. Claudia had her own phone line and plenty of art supplies, and even though the books never gave an incredibly detailed description of what her room looked like, I had to imagine it was eclectic and fabulous, just like its inhabitant.

More than anything, though, I admired intentionally wacky bedroom occupied by Melissa Joan Hart’s character on Nickelodeon’s Clarissa Explains It All. To me and to so many others, it was the ideal teenage space. Sure, it was in her parents’ house, but, really, it was Clarissa’s own little world. She had room for her baby "security alligator," Elvis, in his sand-filled kiddie pool, and a bookshelf made out of what appeared to be a repurposed old dollhouse. (Places like Pottery Barn actually make these now, proving that I must not have been the only person coveting it back then.) She had her own computer—a big deal back in 1991, when the show premiered—and what appeared to be an old card catalog in lieu of a dresser. She had a walk-in closet stuffed with brightly colored and richly patterned clothes, and a bed that appeared to be at least a full size, something that, as the owner of a very uncomfortable twin at the time, I greatly envied.

#long reads #it's a shame what happened to melissa joan hart

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sissylittlefeather · 8 months

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Here it is...

A Very Quiet Life: Chapter 2

A/N: This is part 2 of the AU Series where Elvis is your (sexy and sweet) next door neighbor in around 1968ish.

Here is the link to Chapter 1.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI this one is a little sexy. Not quite smutty, but minors should still look away. Mentions of an erection and references to oral sex (m receiving). Also the reader is a widow, so that needs mentioning. Again, the smut is coming, I promise 😉

Let me know your thoughts!

Song inspo for the series:

Gif inspo to keep him fresh in your mind:

You haven't felt this alive in years.

******

Several days later, you're taking the trash to the curb for the first time and struggling since it's full of boxes from the move. It's heavy and the pavement is uneven. Just as you lose your footing and almost hit the ground, you feel strong arms catch you from behind.

"I got you." His deep voice and southern accent are unmistakable, even if you didn't already recognize his scent. He stands you back up and takes the trash can from you, rolling it down to the curb for you.

"Thanks. I thought I had it." He smiles and shakes his head.

"Miss Independent." You smile a little in return, wondering if he remembers kissing you. You wish you weren't outside, so he could do it again. Just then, Michael steps out of the house and hollers across the yard.

"Moooooom, Jane won't let me have a popsicle!" You turn back to Elvis, ready to excuse yourself.

"Sorry, I have to--"

"I love popsicles. Mind if I join?" He cuts you off and smiles warmly. Even if you wanted to tell him no, you couldn't when he's looking at you like that.

"Sure, come on." You head back up to the house together and his hand accidentally brushes up against yours as you walk. At least, you think it was an accident. Either way, it sends sparks all the way up your spine. When you get to the house, he holds his hand up for Michael to give him a high five, which he does enthusiastically.

"Ouch, kiddo! You're strong!" He laughs and shakes his hand like he's in pain. Michael giggles and runs back into the house. You follow him in and head to the freezer to grab a popsicle for each of you. When you come back into the kitchen, you find Elvis in a deep conversation with Jane about something at school. It's precious how attentive he is while she talks. He has his chin resting on his hand and he nods when it's appropriate.

He's so good with your kids.

You hand out the popsicles and the kids become distracted by the sugary treats. They take them out on the back porch, so they won't drip on the floor. You and Elvis sit down at the table to eat your popsicles in peace, watching the kids through the sliding glass door. You talk about nothing in particular. He seems to be trying to act like the kiss never happened. Somewhere inside you that stings, but you know why he's avoiding it. He's married.

At one point, your popsicle starts melting towards you hand, so you lick up the side of it and suck on the tip a little. He watches you with his mouth hanging open. Is he...? Then he clears his throat and looks back out at the kids. You blush. You weren't intentionally being suggestive with the popsicle. Or were you? You consider putting the whole thing in your mouth while he watches, but that would just be too much. What the hell is wrong with you? You weren't even this sensual when you were married. And now here you are thinking about going down on a popsicle in front of your neighbor's husband. Something about that thought makes you laugh and he turns and looks at you with an amused smile.

"What's got you giggling?" You feel your cheeks get hot and you know your blush must be visible at this point.

"N-nothing." You stutter, but you can't seem to stop laughing. As he's watching you laugh, his popsicle slides off the stick and lands on the floor at his feet.

"Oh no!" You keep laughing, but you tell him the paper towels are right behind him. He goes to stand up, looks down at himself and laughs nervously.

"Can you, um, can you get them for me?" It takes you a second to catch on that he can't stand up right now. Or rather, he doesn't want to in front of you. He clears his throat again while you jump up and grab the paper towels. When you go to clean the mess, you realize it's going to put you between his legs. You try to innocently bend down but you lose your balance and end up grabbing his knee to steady yourself. Completely unintentionally, you find yourself face to face with his very obvious erection.

"Oh!" You say breathily. You feel your arousal start to form and you look up at him from your position between his legs. He moves quickly to try to cover himself, but it's too late. You immediately stand up, but you're still between his legs, so you end up with your boobs at eye level for him. He starts laughing.

"Well, this is not going to help my situation." You want to scream from embarrassment, but he reaches out slowly and puts his hands on your hips. Electricity erupts all over you when you feel how strong his hands are on you. You're filled with the sudden urge to get back down on your knees and treat him like a popsicle, but he suddenly pulls his hands back as you hear the sliding glass door open on the other side of the table. You hastily take three steps backwards and he crosses his legs. The kids run in arguing about whether they should have another popsicle.

"Mr. Presley, should we have another popsicle?" Michael asks in a whiny voice.

"I'm not sure I'd survive another one." He looks at you slyly. "Too much sugar."

Jane chimes in, "Seeeee, even Mr. Presley says no. It'll ruin our dinner."

You hear him say under his breath, "It'll ruin somethin'..." before he gives you another smile. He finally is able to stand up, so he does just that and says he needs to go home to his own dinner. The kids whine and beg him to stay, but he insists that he can't tonight.

"Maybe another time, if your mom says it's okay." He looks to you hopefully, but after that whole debacle, you're not sure it's a good idea.

"We'll see. Goodbye Mr. Presley." The kids wave and run off to play.

"Elvis. You can definitely use my first name now." He says softly. He blushes a little as you walk him to the front door. Right before he walks out, he leans in and kisses your cheek, whispering in your ear, "I didn't forget about the kiss. I won't forget about this either, unless you want me to." When he pulls back, he winks and walks through the door. You close it behind him and lean up against it, shaking like a leaf.

You asked for a new adventure. You should be careful what you wish for.

******

Keep an eye out for Chapter 3!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101 @ccab @suxny @hernameisnoellex3 @ashtag6887 @arabellapresley @littlehoneyposts

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis x reader #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis fans #60s elvis #elvis fandom #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x you

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thevoidstaredback · 25 days

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"In any story, the villain is the catalyst. The hero's not a person who will bend the rules or shw the cracks in his armor.He's one-dimensional intentionally, but the villain is the person who owns up to what he is and stands by it."

-Marilyn Manson

The night was spent getting a proper hold of their bearings. They knew where in Japan they were, but no idea how to get back. They also had no idea on how they got there, but that was a problem for later. For now, shelter and food were to two most pressing issues.

Chuuya and Atsushi had never worked together before, so they were stumbling around each other the entire night. Atsushi had been hell bent on them finding shelter before anything else, and Chuuya was insistent on getting money first. Atsushi was willing to break a few laws to keep them safe, but he was very vocal about not hurting anyone. Chuuya was willing to break every law he could think of in order to get his way. They could both agree that they'd rather avoid working together ever again after they've gotten back Yokohama.

It's terrible, working with someone so different from yourself. Stumbling over each other and getting in one another's way. It could cost a life. It could cost many lives.

"That'd be terrible for being undercover." Atsushi said. He was still holding himself under a mask around Chuuya.

Chuuya scoffed. "Since when are we undercover?"

"Since neither of us know where we are or what's going on."

"Oh? Is that snark I hear?" Underlings who sassed him never got out of it unscathed.

He was suddenly confidant in his answer, "Yeah. What about it? You can't attack me."

Atsushi isn't Chuuya's underling. "Who says I can't?"

"The truce between our two groups." Damn it. "Besides, I could go to local law enforcement and report you for assault and battery."

"But you won't." Good point. "If you did, then you'd be alone in unfamiliar territory. When you get back, the truce would be called off and you'd have the entire Port Mafia after your head."

Atsushi didn't respond, falling back into the mask of self preservation.

Chuuya sighed. "Fine. In order to keep a low profile, we'll do things your way."

Still not saying anything, Atsushi took a step ahead of Chuuya and went in search of an abandoned building to set up a temporary base in. It was late, probably near midnight, so not many were out. Those who were out were sniffed out and avoided. Despite everything, Atsushi made himself ignore the calls for help. Getting involved would mean being seen. Being seen would do no good at the moment.

Chuuya was reluctant to follow Atsushi, but he had to admit that the kid wasn't acting at all like he expected him to. He'd expected a coward or someone who would go running to help at the first scream, but he did no such thing. The kid kept sniffing at the air as they walked, leading through back allies and staying out of light.

"I can say for certain that nothing has happened to the ADA." Atsushi spoke softly.

"What makes ya say that?" Chuuya asked. He was genuinely curious. How did this kid know anything like that? Could he determine anything about the Port Mafia?

Atsushi's eyes seemed to be glowing when he looked back at Chuuya, the gold and purple covered in an almost not-there film. Eyeshine, Chuuya noted, is a thing all cats have. Helps them see in the dark. "I haven't lost control of my Ability." Was that supposed to be a reassurance? "The President's Ability is still working, so I can confidently say that he - at the very least - is okay."

"Based off of that," Chuuya added on, "Everything should be okay with the Port Mafia, too."

These were only assumptions and they both new that.

It was quiet as they kept walking, still out of light and still away from humans. It took another thirty minutes of wandering until they found a place to hole up. It was a very rundown building, but it was still standing. It didn't seem to have any other occupants, so that was a point in their book.

The interior was as rundown as the exterior. The floors had no holes, but every other board squeaked when stepped on. The lights didn't work, so it was safe to assume nothing else did either. While there was no holes in the walls or broken windows, the place was starting to show signs of life in the graffiti and plants creeping in. The stairs leading to the second floor weren't rotted through, but enough weight would cause them to collapse. Much like the first floor, the second floor squeaked on every other step. The paint and wallpaper was peeling at the corners, and the doors were falling of their hinges.

Chuuya didn't like getting dirty. He'd spent so long living on the streets that the thought of staying in this building was barely digestible. Regardless, he picked a room on the second floor and went in. "I'll be in here for the night. Don't bother me." He doubted he'd get any sleep, but it would be a good place to think.

Atsushi nodded and left the man on his own. Part of him said it was a bad idea, but the rest of him knew that they were forced to trust and rely on each other. He choose the room next to Chuuya's and curled up in the far corner. He was used to sleeping in places like this. The cellar in the orphanage was much worse than here. Colder, too. Less bright.

~~~

The new first order of business, Chuuya decided, was to sort out his thoughts. Based on the maps of Japan he'd studied when he first joined the Port Mafia told him that Yokohama was near the Chubu Prefecture. It had once been a part of it, but had declared itself independent a long time ago. When exactly, he wasn't sure, but that wasn't a pressing thing to know at the moment.

He'd gone to bed on Friday night had woken up Friday afternoon. He had a whole week missing from his memory and that was never a good sign. At least, the best case suggested a week. Without knowing the exact date, he had no idea how big of a blank was now taking up his memory.

The next thing Chuuya did was search his person. He was fully dressed in his uniform, so that meant he had woken up and gotten dressed somewhere during the missing blank. He was still fully armed with a gun under his vest and the hidden knives on his person. His phone was in his back pocket, but was dead. His wallet was inside his coat, but he had no cash. At least he still had his gloves.

The next thing to do would be to set out a plan of action, but that would have to wait until Jinko woke up. Getting their story straight was the next pressing matter, but he was gonna let the kid get some rest. God knows they both need it.

Part 1

#bsd #bsd atsushi #bsd chuuya #atsushi nakajima #chuuya nakahara #bsd x mha #bsd x bnha #izuku midoriya #class 1a #moral grey area #morally grey #memory gap #what even are morals?#what even is this?#part 2

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barbika1508 · 7 months

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Sand, sand everywhere (Moon boys x Reader)

Word Count: 6,7 k Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance Pairing; Moon boys x Reader! Demigod

Summary: A magnet for trouble, is what all of them think of themselves as. Which isn’t far from the truth. It’s what brough them together in the first place. This time around though it leaves them tumbling through the dessert, survival the priority along with definitely a suspicious side-track quest option to explore.

/ Masterlist 2023 /

‘’Sand…fuck off.’’

Nothing changes. The sun remains glaring, scorching on my skin, not a whiff of a breeze the air still and stuffy, our surroundings the same. Sand everywhere. Above us a clear blue cruel sky, no clouds in sight. This is literally one of my nightmares from when I was a kid; how does one survive in the desert?

With half a water bottle at that, and two adult people intent on surviving for more than a day. Okay not to be too dramatic we've been walking for what feels like days, when in reality, we have been stuck in the sun in the middle of nowhere for a few hours. It's quite the change from dreary grey but right now dreamy London. Oh, how I miss the rain. I swear I will never ever again in my life complain about the rain.

‘’Isn’t there a saying, fight fire with fire?’’ I speak up breaking the silence again, ignoring the drips of sweat going down the sides of my face, the scarf I wrapped around my head a blessing and curse. I’ve had a white bombard jacket on me that got destroyed by a random dude who managed to grab me, Marc not far behind punching the fucker off me, the victim being my jacket.

I look at Marc’s back, the man wearing a white hoodie of all things, with camo pants and military boots. Always ready for everything. Meanwhile I’m left in my own to tightly tied boots, regular brown pants and a black t-shirt drenched of course, like I mentioned before in sweat, jacket destroyed and forgotten.

I wasn’t even supposed to tag along. The plan was to scoop out Helwan, a city part of Great Cairo. Mainly to avoid the tourist traps which weren’t our intent either way. Avoid the pyramids is the moto of the trip!

And by moto, I mean my moto. Not being a fan of enclosed spaces - which I can deal with don’t get me wrong - it's just not my personal favourite to crawl around in someone’s tomb. Plus, mummified, mummification all that…

I shake my head and shimmy my shoulders giving a small glare towards the man ahead of me. Thank you so much Steven for your endless depth in knowledge and explanation of mummification rituals and booby trap in tombs leaving me with nightmares on occasions. Bloody brilliant as he would say.

‘’Huh?’’ he finally responds, taking a sudden stop, enabling me to reach him my legs feeling heavier the more we make progress.

‘’Fire with fire.’’ I repeat looking at him nonchalantly, hands on my hips as I glance to the map he’s holding, and compass. Marc doesn’t even look at me, frown which is permanent to his ever-resting face deepening as he looks around. I don’t bother following his look, having noticed he has brought us exactly where one who is getting tired doesn't want to be. A giant hole with mountains of sand surrounding us on all sides.

‘’Do you think I can combine my fire with the heat? As in two elements clashing?’’ I ramble the heat getting to my head somewhat, my concentration, alertness and survival instincts having left a while back thanks to the unbearable climate. To prove my point, I raise my left hand rubbing my thumb with the rest of my fingers together, fire lighting up over my fingertips. It feels cooler sitting atop of my skin even as I spread my palm and let it dance in the middle of my hand.

‘’Ah watch the map, sweetheart.’’ Marc moves the said map away as if I was intentionally going to burn it ‘’And no I don’t think that will work. At least with your train of thoughts.’’

He pauses looking at my hand and up at me, gauging my expression half rising an eyebrow in question ‘’Not working.’’ I confirm bringing both hands together brushing them along, the flame disappearing leaving no trace behind.

‘’Save your energy, baby. Night won’t come in a few hours we still have a trek ahead of us.’’ only his voice softens as he speaks, his hard stoic look deepening as he turns to the map, looking around us as if something new is going to miraculously pop up any moment.

‘’Think positive, thoughts, positive thoughts.’’ I sigh trying not to get irritated ‘’Okay. Why don’t we just stop for a moment…’’ he continues to shuffle the map turning it sideways for some reason ‘’...and regroup because this isn’t going anywhere.’’

‘’We’re fine. I got this.’’ Short and direct Marc takes a step away but halts again.

‘’Aha.’’ I cross my arms watching him, turning towards me glancing uphill of the sand dune, then towards the sky squinting ‘’Why don’t you ask Stev…’’

‘’No, I’ve got it.’’ He's quick to stop me with a look too ‘’I may look lost, but I have a plan and I’m getting us out of here. I don’t break my promises.’’

He’s taking this seriously I mean as he should, but the bravado won’t help us if he gets us lost further even if it’s by accident ‘’I never even thought about you breaking any promises, love.’’ I'm still keeping my cool ‘’Just to share your burdens with me, remember? I might have never been in a desert like you Mr. Mercenary but I’m resourceful too need I remind you?’’

I quirk an eyebrow keeping serious, ignoring the skip of my heart thanks to the smirk he offers keeping his eyes on me, only after a few moments hinting at the map ‘’Oh I’m well aware of your resourcefulness baby.’’’ he muses ‘’I remember well. But like you’ve said I’ve been through this; I’m getting you out.’’

‘’Macho man to the rescue.’’ I grumble letting my arms drop taking half a step back to eye the dune ‘’I say we climb this to find an easier path to take than just, descending and climbing so much.’’

‘’Just wait.’’ he stops me, turning away again ‘’Why would we climb up a dune if our direction is the complete opposite one.’’

‘’To be honest babe, our direction doesn’t look like it’s too clear to you right now. Is the compass broken?’’

‘’The compass is not broken, why would…’’ he takes a deep breath trying to contain his own frustrations, eyes settling on me but softening as he turns sideways ‘’We’re headed west.’’

‘’Huh??’’ I immediately make a noise in question.

‘’They will be expecting us in the first town we get into.’’ he explains ‘’How many were after us, they have connections. So, we head west towards the sea. The Nile is way behind us. Towns in west are closer than the ones in North.’’

‘’Southwest.’’ I blur out Marc blinking at me in question as I try to remember the map of New Cairo, I took from our hotel lobby out of curiosity ‘’We don’t risk the chance of reaching Suez. I’m sure they will wait for us there too. So Southwest.’’

He stares at me unmoving for a solid moment ‘’Is your geography broken? Are you getting over heated?’’

Placing a hand on my hip I give him full attitude his double take making him hesitate in approaching me ‘’I don’t think you want to fall into argument with me about geography Mr. Spector.’’ I have jabs ready to send his way but refrain from doing so ‘’I’ll give you space to find the way in either case so I’m going this way.’’

Faster than him I reach the dune in two steps stubborn to climb it, even if I can hear him hot on my heel the map rustling ‘’Baby, don’t…’’ he calls after more rustling heard ‘’I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry. The heat isn’t helping, please don’t rush.’’

It’s easy to spiral into the flurry of emotions that are intensified by the heat which brings irritation into the mix, anger and frustration not too far behind. Its why I desperately want to keep calm and collected, trusting the man with my life after all with no complaints so far. And what do I get in return ‘’...a moody boyfriend, who wants to be the hero. Marine my ass, we’re in the dessert not the middle of the ocean, gods…’’ I continue grumbling under my breath the dance of trying to keep my balance beginning as the sand under me gives in, making me trip and almost fall the higher I go.

‘’I can hear your kind words, sweetheart.’’ Marc calls out a tinge of amusement in his voice.

‘’Uh huh, anytime hot shot.’’ I snip back, getting irritated by each stumble, landing on my hands every time, knees digging into the sand preventing me from rolling backwards or sideways ‘’Seriously thought, why pyramids, why the desert? Why didn’t we stop in Kefalonia and then side-tracked here? No, that old pigeon had to make it a priority of life and death, didn’t he?’’

‘’Careful, Y/N.’’ he warns as I stumble again.

‘’We just dove right into trouble didn’t we, head first! We are magnets for danger and bad things to happen…ahhh fuckl!! I end up flinching at something black in the corner of my eye, making an appearance. It stands out from the beige hues of the sand the creature turning out to be a scorpion.

‘’You okay babe?’’ Marc calls pausing as have I in our climb.

‘’Yeah, yeah just a scorpion it’s all.’’ I breathe out bringing fire to my left hand the flame bigger this time, slowly reaching towards the creature. My idea works out as the poisonous bugger turns away from danger. Making a grimace I keep my hand on fire even as I take a step higher the small creature not really running away just putting distance from us.

‘’Whatever you do, don’t let it sting you alright?’’

I roll my eyes patience disappearing like water dripping through fingertips, the heat and, dryness of my mouth starting to get to me ‘’Thank you for the warning, Captain Obvious.’’ I snap before I can stop myself, cursing under my breath harshly as another scorpion makes an appearance closer to where I rest my other hand, the fucker wiggling from underneath the sand. Bringing my flame closer in hopes of scaring the creature away it barely moves.

‘’Sorry for trying to look out for you…’’ Marc doesn’t sound too pleased gearing up for a tangent, which is another clear sign the heat is getting to him as well. His voice drifts to the back of my mind as I attempt to step higher placing both hands on the sand to steady myself, ending up bamboozled as a third scorpions makes an appearance the bugger jumping onto my right hand, the touch of its tiny feet or whatever immediately making me straighten up, and wildly swing my arm away thankfully the scorpion flying away as panic raises up my throat, and chest ‘’...not that you listen to me, being stubborn as you are…’’

Unaware of what’s happening Marc's voice continues to rant onwards getting his emotions out at least. My attention shifts onto the shifting of the sand which is not my doing as I’ve buried my knees into it, watching in horror as at first black dots make appearances, not stopping even as the scorpions peek out their tails following.

‘’AH FUCK, NOPE NOPE MARC RUN!’’ I end up totally and completely freaking out not waiting for them to get the chance to crawl closer, as I let my fear even if it’s irrational crawl from my chest and up my arms the mere thought of another tiny beastie touching me sending me into a different type of spiral where I want to cover myself in gasoline and burn myself alive.

Given my predicament, as I shout, I turn around jumping eagerly but carelessly away from the sand landing harshly on my ass, the momentum sending me sliding down towards Marc that watches in confusion, eyes squinting mouth opening to question me.

‘’What are…’’

‘’Run, run, nope, nope.’’ I rush reaching him in no time focused on watching where I’m going to land as I pick myself onto unsteady feet making progress downwards much faster than upwards, barely seeing Marc’s surprise as he sees and realizes what’s happening as I grab his arm fire retreating so I don’t burn him in the process of holding and dragging him with me.

The next few moments pass like a blur as panic fuels me, not even giving me the chance to breathe as we reach the bottom and end up running burning feet and muscles up the other dune. Not even arguing I push my boyfriend in front of me releasing the fire as if I’m a flame thrower towards the oncoming scorpions that cover the entirety of the sand behind us, death staring at our faces.

The little death bringers hiss as they get burned alive, but the others proceed to climb over their dead kin to get us. The feat of the climb would leave us breathless and whipped in normal circumstances – which these are obviously not. Reaching the top Marc unceremoniously grabs me by the back of my shirt, pulling me into himself as I retreat my flames drenched in sweat, and ongoing terror.

We are not given the time to recollect our thoughts or bearings as the world is spinning before my eyes, body hitting the ground again. I’m not sure if he pulls me with him or I pull him, but my eyes close shut as well as my mouth the tumbling and rolling down another dune unstoppable. Picking up speeding I get battered and heavily caked in sand disorientation akin to jumping into the ocean in the middle of the night.

Panic raises as I let out a muffled shout through my closed mouth, something grabbing my arm shadow passing above me resulting in something – someone - landing on me halfway squeezing air from my lungs. Giving into fate as I’ve got nothing better to do, or any other choice the fall ends after what feels like an intense few solid moments.

I expect fully to be tossed and pulled by gravity onto my face. My left knee first hits the sandy ground, body following, I end up hitting my head and crushing with upper body onto something solid, that’s definitely not sand, my hands catching me rather poorly digging into the hot sand.

Opening my eyes, I’m faced with a coughing Marc as he groans, face twisting in pain thanks to the impact he sustained with catching me his attempt at shielding me squeezing my heart when the realization hits me.

‘’Ah damn babe.’’ I rush breathless myself making quick work of getting off him straddling him over the stomach and with shaky hands brushing away sand from his handsome face as he lies with his eyes closed catching his breath ‘’Sorry my love and thank you for that.’’ I rush to say giving him a once over, his clothing lacking any and all colour of blood.

Before I can pepper the man in kisses as thanks, I turn around out of instinct ready for any kind of threat, the scorpions still freaking me out. I’m met with the dune and no sign of danger, the little beasties gone. So, while Marc regains his bearings I check where we landed, noticing a few raised mounds of sand still surrounding us. We’ve landed deeper than we were before, the dune behind us providing some form of shade.

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ Marc groans out squinting as the sun is shining directly into his eyes, prompting me to move and block it as I run my fingers through his slicked hair, and over his head making sure he isn’t injured ‘’Are you an angel?’’

The question has me looking at him pointedly his smile a dead giveaway that he is fucking with me. So, I mildly-lightly punch him on the chest proceeding to climb onto my feet ‘’Ouch. A rough angel.’’ he grumbles as I begin to brush sand that has once more made its way everywhere in my hair and clothes and other places.

‘’You love it.’’ I snicker offering him my hand. He glances from it to my face contemplating ‘’Awww babe you don’t trust me?’’ I joke watching as the man gets serious and grabs onto my forearm. With a literal skip as he pulls me forward for what I was ready he stands up in front of me, both hands settling over my hips, pulling me into him.

‘’Undoubtedly.’’

It always gives me almost a whiplash how quick he can change emotions. How he turns teasing into another level of seriousness and deepness. Guilt tugs at my heart as it’s his turn to touch and make sure I’m alright, ending up cupping my cheek meeting my gaze.

‘’I know love.’’ I offer a smile ‘’I trust you. With my life.’’ I reassure him, as he rests his forehead against my own, holding onto me, as I have my arms wrapped around his neck, even though I am standing on my toes Marc being taller than me. It never posed a problem, he’s always eager to bend down to get kisses. Mr Grumpy is in fact Mr Soft and needy for kisses - but don’t tell anyone that.

That’s until I run my tongue over my teeth, prompting me to run it up and down frown making an appearance as saliva gathers in my mouth.

‘’So, the West is not an option anymore.’’ Marc begins shifting, one hand finding mine as he takes half a step back looking around then upwards to the sky checking the sun and the tops of the dunes. Maybe Khonsu is making an appearance, the god of the moon making his disappearing act rather lengthy.

‘’Maybe we really should wait for the night. Then we can…you, okay?’’

I nod immediately, giving him a thumbs up by letting go of his hand as I turn my back to him taking a few steps away, spitting rather clumsily in my opinion bending down as a result as I try to spit out more of the sand that has gotten in my mouth.

‘’Gross.’’ He mumbles to which I hum in agreement turning around once I deem myself presentable feeling legit happy that Marc is turned away his attention focused on something directly ahead of him. Narrowing my eyes, I wipe my mouth as I step back to him, not even catching up as he out of the blue bolts forward in a rush, breaking into a run towards a smaller stack of sand.

‘’I wasn’t that disgusting, we all spit.’’ I complain, pouting, ready to sit down and wait for the night. Sitting or lying down whatever, just not moving is my goal. I am dehydrated, I am tired, and I’ve had enough life-death experiences to last me a while.

‘’Y/N!’’ Marc shouts rather excitedly and louder than I’ve heard him in a while. With teases and more complaints and whines dying on the tip of my tongue I speed my step approaching my boyfriend as he begins digging. Put of all the things that we could and most importantly should do.

I’ve learned a while back not to question the things my boyfriends tend to do anymore. There’s always a perfectly logical explanation to their actions, even if they look insane doing them. I watched silently as Marc switches his digging position pushing the sand away like a madman, making me rethink of a head injury - he might have a concussion, he did catch me and fell over hard.

Just as I’m about to question and stop him, the sand gives in Marc still digging to reveal stone. Flabbergasted as I look at our surroundings then back to the stone I drop down next to him following blindly uncovering a structure out of all things. The very peak of it.

‘’This is crazy.’’ I find myself stating in awe, quickly realizing we’ve stumbled onto a pyramid.

‘’Insanity.’’ My boyfriend laughs, stopping soon getting tired, dots of sweat littering his forehead, chest rising and falling visibly as he settles his hands on his hips, as I continue pushing the sand away having done it with not as much as rush as he did.

‘’Do you think…’’ he begins but quiets prompting me to stop and turn to look at him in question urging him on ‘’Do you think you could, do some of your magic maybe? To help us out?’’

In normal circumstances, I would go off him - all with good humour of course - Marc calling my powers magic, which no I don’t do magic. I control the four elements: it's completely different! And second the teases and comebacks from before for me not mucking around and needing to save my energy goes all out the window.

But then again these are not normal circumstances after all. And like I’ve said, the desert makes you do and act weirdly. Staying calm and cool is the way to go, even if right now I want to punch a hole in the earth. Oh, excuse me, sand.

‘’You do realize, which I’m realizing as it’s just hitting me the last two, three times I’ve used my powers we’ve been attacked??’’ he glances away then back at me the puzzles clicking in his mind too ‘’The bandits, the weird birds, the scorpions? I feel like the odds are against us.’’ I cross my arms looking at the sky like he did.

Being a descendant of a god, your fate is not to be so ordinary. Hence me meeting the avatar of Khonsu and falling in love with him sticking to the not ordinary path even in the love department. Wacky is the word to use here.

‘’Aren’t they always?’’ he signs deeply glaring at the stone, rethinking his plan immediately ‘’But you’re right. I won’t risk you getting hurt, we’ll just…’’

Knowing where he is going with this, and the change in air only now becoming noticeable as I focus on it, it's rather easy to reach outwards and feel the air move around us. Grasping a weak air current, I twist my wrist wrapping it around my hand, pulling on it with all my might.

‘’...we’ll just have to come back, and…what the…oh no Y/N…’’ Marc notices the shift as sand gets picked up, drawing it away from the stone. I give Marc a quick glance, confidence blooming in my chest as it’s going better than I’d imagined it to.

And then of course things go wrong.

The sand literally swallows me whole. Just like in cartoons.

‘’Y/N!!!!’’ I hear Marc’s desperate cry before everything goes black, thanks to my eyes closing automatically and well the sand eating me. You know, it is an irrational fear they’ve said. Sinking, it doesn't just happen. Frankly I am amazed as I’m not freaking out as much as one might in a situation as this one. It probably has to do with the fact that I don’t want any more sand in my mouth, or up my nose so far avoiding that happening. Oh yeah and I’m still sinking the sand pressing onto me from everywhere.

The stop is abrupt, not soon after leaving me completely turned around – again! This time around through lying on my back thank the gods, the lack of pressure on my front urging me to take a breath, joy legitimately sparkling in my heart at the lack of suffocation.

Taking it as a positive sign I crack my right eye open noticing the shade I’ve slid under. The shade is not the impressive sight, or thing to be amazed by. My gaze settles onto the clear sight of a pyramid that became partially uncovered in whatever I’ve triggered leaving what looks like an entrance exposed to light. The stones of the pyramid are white preserved thanks to the sand. There’s very little damage by first look everything looking picturesque. Tilting my head, I focus on the entrance lacking any barriers.

Peculiar. The sand doesn't seem to be sipping into the pyramid, so it means the lower part of it is in fact sunken. Or so it appears to be. Huh. There had been one too many coincidences today. Too good to be true rings in my head.

Goosebumps rising over my skin only confirm the unsettling feeling that passes through me. I offer a look towards the sky more so in question not expecting much to be revealed. And it’s not. Only that I’ve fallen into a sinkhole. Or something like it, the sand having crumbled in the weirdest way possible - definitely not natural. The shape of the dips makes no sense, and the disappearance of that much sand that enveloped me to go into nothing?

Strange things are on the horizon.

A particular grunt has me moving finally, the joints in my knee cracking as I push myself to look above my head. I observe Marc uncharacteristically, awkwardly and clumsily descend, kicking up sand catching himself on his hands in odd ways, not looking composed at all.

He looks angry. Why is he angry??

Still whipped out from my own fall and a moment of what I thought was my doom, I process things a bit slower, the lack of water a hard thing to ignore. So, I stare as my boyfriend lands on the ground catching himself on his hands, wasting no time with getting up and sliding to me like a baseball player would.

‘’Are you okay hermosa? Are you hurt?’’

I raise both eyebrows in surprise to see Jake fronting, the angry look making sense. And so do his hands that immediately touch, fingers pressing onto my neck checking for injuries not even waiting for an answer.

‘’No, I don’t think so.’’ I manage to find my voice letting him pull me into a sitting position, hands working firmly over my body. He even rolls his sleeves up, worry deeply etched into his face.

‘’Ah you should have been more careful…’’ he picks up a conversation out of the blue angrily his touch gentle as he takes a hold of my left hand examining it ‘’...shouldn’t have let her, in the first place pendejo…’’

It's not hard to figure out he’s arguing with his alters. So, I cup his cheek with my right hand bringing his attention to me, eyes blazing with fire ‘’It’s on me, mi amor.’’ I begin running my thumb over his cheek ‘’I went ahead and ignored Marc, okay?’’ offering a smile it doesn’t ease Jake’s frustration as he goes back to touching me, switching onto my right hand pressing a kiss on top of my knuckles making me know he’s not as angry as he looks ‘’I’m sorry.’’

‘’Nena, you have nothing to be sorry about…’’

Shutting him up in the most effective way I know, I lean forward practically punching him in the face, but luckily avoiding that, as I clash our lips together. And noses.

That doesn’t faze Jake what-so-ever as he sighs into the messy kiss, being the first one to tilt his head and easing it into a more sensual one, that I go along with eagerly. We’ve gone from watching movies together on the plane to a night that we couldn’t stop touching one another, to being almost killed more than I can count in one day, which feels like a lifetime to be honest. It's been too long since we kissed or took a moment to ourselves. Or maybe that’s just my love for them talking. I absolutely adore the men I am with, love them to bits and pieces as Steven would say.

The kiss doesn’t last long thanks to the dryness of our lips partially. I’d happily keep locking lips as long as we would need air to breathe but we are not out of trouble yet.

‘’Mi corazon you don’t always have to jump on my side to defend my silly hiccups.’’ I genuinely smile at his still serious expression that has loosened, without shaking off his worry ‘’Can you let Marc know, he’s not the one to blame? Like at all.’’ I give him a pointed look, Jake staring at me wordlessly, lips twitching as if he wants to speak but is mumbling to himself.

Looking towards the pyramid, thanks to his hand holding my own I can feel the change in his demeanour how his body tenses, shoulders subconsciously squaring up, the look he gives me emotionless for a moment.

‘’Babe.’’ I smile wider ‘’For an ex-mercenary you’re a lousy babysitter.’’

His eyebrows shot up in question as he looks at me fully confused ‘’Babysitter?’’ Marc's American accent comes through, hands not exploratory anymore instead wrapping around me, as he sits finally having been standing on his knees awkwardly this entire time.

‘’I’m a menace.’’ I muse referencing an inside joke. One of his neighbours, an older lady that looks like the queen of England to me, literally compared me to Dennis the Menace after the 4 random meet ups with her in the elevator, usually when we were coming back to Steve’s apartment.

He rolls his eyes at that, my boyfriend not entirely agreeing with that categorization ‘’I can handle you. We’ve established that, troublemaker.’’ The smirk he offers has me clicking my tongue and wiggling my eyebrows at the suggestiveness.

‘’Oh, we have yes. But a refresher never hurt.’’ To be extra I give him a wink, getting distracted after by a breeze ruffling my loose hair, ponytail giving in thanks to the tumble I’ve experienced. We both look towards the entrance of the pyramid reality crashing down. We are still stuck in the middle of nowhere.

‘’Raincheck?’’

I snort at that rolling my eyes at his eagerness to always get down and dirty so to speak. I have a retort already on the tip of my tongue, as I start to push myself to stand but get stopped by Marc’s calloused, slightly rough hands cupping my cheeks bringing my attention back to my once more worried boyfriend ‘’You are okay right?’’ he asks so seriously, eyebrows turning upright.

He’s blaming himself ‘’I will be after I get a kiss from you.’’ he softens, giving me a pointed look. So, I throw my arms around his shoulders to be close ‘’I’m serious.’’ I pout giving him puppy dog eyes for good measure. His pretty brown eyes take me in as he contemplates something, gaze darting to my lips two times. He closes the distance simply pressing his lips against my own. I don’t rush him knowing that something is going on in his head.

‘’Ah you see. I’m all better.’’ I speak as we part. But the man is still worried, even under all that serious gruffness, I can read him like the crystal blue sky. Because we are alike.

‘’Promise?’’ he pushes not fully convinced, but willing to let go.

‘’Cross my heart and hope to…’’ Due to another more heated glare I show my tongue before finishing my sentence, delivering a peck to the tip of his nose and on the corner of his lips ‘’Come on. Your adventure is right ahead of you.’’

Feeling energized and more like myself even if it's temporary, I jump to my feet letting Marc do the same and take the lead, following closely behind observing our surroundings. The day is not over yet.

‘’At least I can scratch ‘Tomb Raiding in Egypt’ off my never-want-to-do bucket list.’’ I mumble more to myself, as the sun hits us the feeling of unsettledness hitting me once more. It's as if we are being watched. And I’m sure Khonsu is somewhere around, or close enough but he doesn’t give me the creeps I have at the moment.

‘’Says the one who completed 3 of the Tomb Raider’s games.’’ Marc jests in return, hand brushing over my back as he pulls his sleeves back down his arms pulling me into the shade of the doorway, a frown drawing itself over my face.

‘’It's different.’’

Unsettled and rattled I zone in on the hieroglyphs beautifully preserved in the doorway we take shelter in, shade salvation in the heat and emptiness of the desert. I am not the best decoder nor a reader of them, Steven taking it easy with teaching me as Greek and Latin are hard enough to learn anew after years of not studying actively. What I can see is that someone important has been placed to rest in here at first glance.

‘’Wait for me here.’’

At Marc's statement I turn around immediately staring at him in disbelief ‘’Haaa? What for?’’

‘’I’ll be in and out. Khonsu said this should be trap-free and straightforward. This tomb belongs to an important scribe, but not so important to hide gold and traps. I just need documents. So, stay under the shade…’’ he proceeds to hand me the half empty water bottle that survived everything having been stored in his cargo pants ‘’...and wait for me. No arguing.’’

The last part he adds knowing how I’d react. The only thing keeping me back is him. I don’t want him to get stuck in his head and worrying about my safety all the time. His fear of assuming the worst bringing him endless stress and anxiety, something that I’m trying to get him to stop or at least lessen. I want to help him, make him happy because he deserves the world. And that’s something I’m willing to get for him. By any means necessary to.

Keeping my mouth shut I offer a nod leaning against the wall for effect to prove to him I’ll behave ‘’Good girl.’’ his voice dips lower as he presses a kiss to my forehead offering me a smile before he’s turning away hand running over his slicked hair. He disappears inside as if he’s been here a million times, not really checking his footing or anything.

What a hero huh? I can’t even smile at the thought as he takes things upon himself that he does not need to do so at all. He knows I’m a good fighter, knows my control over the elements provide a huge advantage making the impossible possible, but his stubbornness knows no bounds. So protective, they all are.

Despite my thoughts going astray trying to distract myself from imagining all the scenarios mainly from the video game I’ve played happening - yeah, I mean the death scenes - I reach into the cargo pants I’m wearing, getting my mini notebook out and a broken pencil that has not crumbled into dust.

Sitting down in the shade, I start to scribble and draw the symbols from one wall, ending mumbling out loud at the ridiculousness of my situation. Currently I’m left alone in the middle of the desert, my boyfriend exploring a few thousand years old previously untouched and undiscovered tomb he says isn’t dangerous, which isn’t reassuring even if he said it himself. I could have stayed in London. I could have ignored the world really and stayed in bed where everything is nice and wholesome.

Nahhhh who says no to life and death type adventures huh, where scorpions are out literally to get you, and men paid by other men trying to get your head for money. What a fun world we live in. To be fair, me being a descendant of the gods also…normality is not a word in my practice I can act upon.

Remembering the water bottle I placed on the ground, I take half a sip of it wanting to legit cry at the brief relief it brings. My throat closes quickly around dryness, it not being enough for anything. How spoiled I am having to remind myself to drink water every hour back home to right now being almost willing to kill for it. And yes, that sounds serious and unethical but it's so damn hot and I’m so thirsty…

My eyes flicker towards the entrance, fingers of my left hand grasping a handful of sand. I am weapon-less after all. The shifting of sand is loud from the darkness, my body tense as I’m ready for what by now I imagine a monster to jump out. Not to sound like a broken record but in normal circumstances this bounty of creative imagination would be welcomed.

I groan in relief as my boyfriend makes an appearance, shuffling outside body moving awkwardly as he stands with his hands raised in an ‘I come in peace’ position. He offers a nervous smile trying his best not to freak out by the dark grey spiderwebs that he has entangled himself into. It has even gotten in his hair, that has gone into an unruly mess of curls.

‘’Heya dove.’’ he greets sweetly ‘’Seems I’ve gotten myself a wee bit entangled at the moment, haven’t I?’’

‘’Just a wee bit.’’ I get on my feet taking him in, reaching for the spider web on his left hand, the substance sticking to me ‘’Oh it’s bljehkkk.’’ I make a face at the feeling. Raising my left hand, I point my pointing finger letting it act as a lighter. Bringing it over to the spiderweb I watch it spark and burn away spreading like lightning disappearing from Steven’s arm.

‘’Bloody hell.’’ my boyfriend flinches as I continue freeing him, pulling strands of him the effect more dramatic than the action ‘’Handy trick you’ve got there.'’ He compliments, making me genuinely smile as he is always fascinated by what I can do. A memory resurfaces of just a few months ago when a cold wave hit the UK, and I’ve resorted to using my fire to keep my boyfriend warm. Very cuddly couple of days I gotta say.

‘’Slight of hand.’’ I muse taking a step back to take him in, watching as he brushes his hands over his torso, back, hands, legs I’m sure feeling as if he has something crawling over his skin ‘’So what brings your charming ass back out? A dead end? A spider?’’

The tease slips my mouth as I try to keep my chuckles at bay, the soft glare that he gives me making me give him puppy eyes. He remains fidgeting.

‘’It’s not like ‘m cryin’ dove.’’ he points out, shaking his head, my smile not lessening. He does glance back at the entrance making me do so as well, the brief silence telling as he is hesitant with whatever he has to say. Or ask.

I’m usually the softest to Steven. What a lie I’m always soft for Steven. But Marc’s hero complex is the reason of my wavering. And a bit of ego. I want him to admit that I’m right for the job. I’m in his league, and capable of protecting him as well. Even if I really, really don’t want to go into a pyramid because I don’t define that as fun or intriguing, but given Steven is fronting…

‘’We need your fire.’’

Those are not the words I was expecting. In my dumbfounded-ness Steven comes closer raising his pocket flashlight ‘’Our flashlight broke. We are literally blind in there.’’ he pauses ‘’Marc wanted to spare you this experience and I do to my love, but it appears we are in need of your assistance I’m afraid.’’

Sweetly and slowly, he moves my arms from their crossed position taking my hands in his acting charming as ever the man not even aware of the hold he has on me and how much I cannot resist him especially when he asks this sweet and gives me puppy eyes.

‘’You need me to be your personal torch huh?’’

Despite his olive skin and the heat pressing down on the sand I see a faint blush hit his cheeks, the immediate shake of his head ‘’I wouldn’t put it like that.’’ he grimaces ‘’You’re more than that.’’

I begin giggling, closing in pressing an obnoxiously loud kiss to his right cheek.

‘’You’re my world.’’ I slip my hand into his ‘’Let’s go then, lover boy.’’

Shy Steven is back as he stutters something under his breath but follows eagerly. Bringing fire forth to my right hand still holding onto his, I light up the darkness not entirely safe from anxiousness but reassured given I have my boys with me. I don’t need more reasons to blindly follow them - after all I would go with them, or for them to the Duat if needed.

#moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector #moon knight system #polyamourous #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Text

To realise love is to experience the threat of losing.

A/n: imma say this now, I don’t know much about Calliope other then from the sandman bonus episode: ‘Calliope’ so whether or not this is occ I’ll leave that up to you cuz I’ve seen so many jealously fics with her and I wanted to do one where reader and her are at least somewhat acquainted. She’s really pretty 😍

Taglist: @murnsondock @mess-in-side @blossomedfloweroflove @mm2305 @dinonuggett

Calliope knew that look well, she remembered it fondly when it use to be shone her way once upon a time ago. Now she had to bare with mess as the same look was shone onto you instead whenever Morpheus looked at you with starry eyes. She didn’t miss his passable smile nor how his body would attempt to get closer to you without being caught as though he was a kid with his hand firmly stuck in a cookie jar.

While Morpheus wasn’t the best spouse when he was with her, the muse could tell he had changed over the course of their separation and that’s all she could really ask for him. Some parts of her ached to be in your place but she knew that was selfish of her to sabotage yours and Morpheus happiness in favour of her own; after all that isn’t how friends are, you taught her that lesson a while back whilst teaching the goddess the beauty of human companionship. Needless to say she was forever grateful that she had the blessing to bare one with you.

Not once have you ever looked at her with jealously or resentment in your eyes whenever you found her and Morpheus alone; instead decided to leave them alone to recount their long history together in favour of spending time with Lucienne at the library or with Cain, Able and Goldie. With that Calliope swore she would do anything within her power -or before she had to leave the dreaming- to make the dream lord see his own feelings towards you before someone else who’d see you for who you are comes along, leaving him to dwell on what could’ve been had he acted fast enough.

One day as Calliope and Morpheus were walking through the dreaming, nothing yet everything seemed to have changed the last time Calliope was last within her ex-husbands realm; though she couldn’t linger much longer on that fact as her eyes honed in on you talking to a rather handsome and or gorgeous Fae who seemed to be apologising for something while as you seemed to act indifferent and wave it off before reaching down to pick something off of the floor. However it seemed that the Fae has the same idea which lead to a brief touching of hands and a collision of foreheads that caused you both to flinch and rear back in pain.

Calliope went to look at Morpheus but found that he had already rushed to your aid, standing by your side like a loyal guard dog, glaring down the poor Fae that she swore his eyes were glowering with anger. The muse couldn’t help but find this a tad amusing before decided that she should really help de-escalate the situation before Morpheus does something hastily on behalf of his rampant emotions. “What has happened here?” She asked once she was by your side, silently asking if you were okay and you responded back to her with a typical thumbs up. “Nothing, Morpheus was just blowing things out of proportion again.” You replied, rubbing your sore forehead, hissing when your fingers brushed against a particularly tender spot.

“You wouldn’t have hurt your head y/n if this Fae has been made more aware.” Morpheus rebutted, eyes never once having left the Fae for a microsecond as they stood frozen with fear. You couldn’t help but groan at his possessiveness but darkly clad male took that groan as one of pain and immediately turn to grasp your face in his hand as his eyes looked you over like a worried parent. “Yeah on accident, it wasn’t like Rhydian here was intentionally trying to give me head trauma.” You spit, tugging your head from his grasp, not wanting to deal with his stubbornness and refusal to hear anyone who wasn’t himself out any longer then you had to and risk your Fae friend being sent to the eternal darkness for no good reason.

You honestly had no clue on when this all began and quite honestly it was draining trying to defuse a tense situation where neither the wrongfully accused person got punished nor the dumbass of a dream lord you were friends with get greatly scrutinised for his misguided judgment thanks in due to his emotions. “Yeah an accident my Lord, I would’ve never intentionally hurt them if they were under your protection.” Rhydian echoed, they looked and felt as though about ready to either faint or piss themselves right on the spot in front of three important people within the dreaming itself; though then again chances where both of the options happening were highly likely to occur at any given moment just as Morpheus was going in to take a step closer.

He would’ve had you not stepped into his way, taking his direct line of sight away from Rhydian and bringing it onto yourself as you held onto his arms in means of preventing him from moving elsewhere. “Morpheus I’m fine seriously it was nothing more then an harmless accident. There’s no need to make it out to be anything else then what it actually is. A mistake.” Morpheus looked from you to Calliope, who had yet to make her voice known since she last spoke, then back to you as he heaved a heavy sigh, calming himself down at the revelation that you weren’t direly hurt as his mind made it up to be. “Fine, though if it does turn out to be something more severe,” his eyes found home deep within Rhydian’s soul as he spoke his next line of dialogue, “then there shall be punishments to dull out accordingly. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, absolutely, crystal my lord.” Rhydian stumbled to find the words that didn’t sound like they were on the verge of crying, “then you are dismissed.” Not needing to be told twice the Fae flew fast as their wings could carry them away from you, Morpheus and Calliope, not sparing a single look back in fear of turning to stone if they did and it didn’t take long before they were out of sight for good. “You didn’t have to come to my defence all the time Morpheus, I have to warn my scars and bruises at some point.” You said, holding onto your dropped item a little tighter, “now if you excuse me I have to help Lucienne in the library.” “Allow me to-“ “alone.” You cut Morpheus off from finishing his sentence before leaving him and Calliope alone in the field.

“You should listen to them more often Onerios.” The goddess stated when they began making their way back to the palace where she watched her ex-husbands jaw clench in conflict before finding it within himself to finally speak the lingering words in his mind. “Why do you both scold me like I am a child?” Calliope only huffed, “are you even hearing yourself? It is because you lack the ability to listen to others who don’t posses your voice nor likeness.” She began, seeing now that even though he may have changed in some aspects, there where still aspects Morpheus would have to swiftly deal with if he wished to stand a chance in gaining your favour. “You’ll only push y/n away when you do that, like you have been pushing everyone else away until recently.”

Morpheus stopped to look at her properly. “What do you mean by that exactly Calliope.” He wondered, unsure if they were on the same line of thinking. “I mean exactly what I mean, if you wish to court y/n then you must cease these old ways of yours. You won’t be advancing your relationship with them as quickly as you might think by adhering to your old habits.” Calliope advices, continuing to walk down the path ahead. Morpheus dwelled on her words a little longer before quickening his pace to better match her own. “Do you assume I have feelings for y/n?”

This time it was Calliope’s turn to stop walking and look at him. “I don’t assume Onerios, I know,” she began, voice as strong as her willpower to see this conversation through, “I see the way you look at them, protect them and I notice how your body instinctually reacts whenever they are near! I am not dumb so don’t paint me as such; whatever your relationship is with y/n…you desire more from it…you’ve grown attached and now you can’t find it within yourself to let them go. It’s unhealthy to let them suffocate within your grasp unless you ease your grip to let them breath.” No more words were exchanged there afterwards.

It wasn’t until long after Calliope had bided you and Morpheus goodbye as she departed from the dreaming did the dream lord finally understood the meaning behind her words. Calliope knew his feelings were no longer as strongly in her favour as they once were, this was her giving him his blessing to move his sights onto you with the knowledge that she was going to be okay with his decision. She always had been too good for him, he knew this deep down even way back when they were together. How she dealt with him he had no idea. However now he had a chance at claiming a happy ending with you he hoped.

#the sandman fluff #the sandman fic #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x you #the sandman imagine #the sandman imagines #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagines #dream of the endless x you #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus fic #morpheus imagine #morpheus imagines #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader

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ikemenomegas · 1 year

Text

Winter heart

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Drabble

Sometimes you catch Satoru looking wistfully at Megumi when he thinks no one can see.

Of course, he doesn't mind you watching. You're different, in his mind. If he was forced to explain it he'd just say you were different like Megumi and Shoko and Tsumiki and Suguru were are different.

He'd say it with a sing-song cadence and an imperfect understanding of how fragile most of you are.

You've come to find out that Satoru is really good at lying, like scary good. He'd told lies in school, white lies and untruths for the purpose of mischief. People's misconceptions are easy to manipulate, he'd told you once, under cover of a sea of stars, voice dull. It's not lying if they're the ones making up things that aren't true.

He might tell anyone who asks that he's raising the Fushiguro siblings like one might raise a particularly willful and onerous pet, or as a bargaining chip with the Zen'in.

He never says that in front of the kids themselves, and you've told both Megumi and Tsumiki that there are things they might hear, which people will try and use to hurt them someday.

You can see in Tsumiki's eyes that she understands and she holds you tighter, face pressed into your stomach when she clings, the way only a child twice abandoned knows how to do. You can see in Megumi's that he happily doesn't and you wish that ignorance upon him for ever and ever.

In times like these, with warm breath clouding the air, you understand how Satoru can think the whole world a fool.

Megumi's a small kid, face turned often to the ground. He doesn't see Satoru's bright eyes peaking from behind his sunglasses, so far above Megumi's head, gazing down.

Satoru doesn't like to dwell. At least he doesn't like to be seen weighed down by the weight he carries. You've had long practice and still barely enough to see the cracks, to pick apart the cleverly hidden clasps to his armor when there is no one else around, and still you would have a hard time if asked to explain Gojo Satoru.

But Satoru alone is sometimes a tiny bit easier to explain. In the tinniest moments when he looks down, wistful and fond, at the fuzzy head of a boy barely six years old, you see something like a wish that things could be different, and something like happiness that things aren't.

Tsumiki tugs your sleeve and points up into a tree where a last brave leaf, as red as blood, clings to a branch.

She's at an age where she collects things - rocks, odd pieces of glass, dried flowers, glimmering beetle shells, broken pieces of porcelain with edges that you try and make sure are not too sharp. She's also had the kind of life that makes it difficult for her to ask for things.

She stares when you bend down and motion for her to get up on your back and clambers up slowly, like she doesn't know what to expect. You grasp her elbow where it's wrapped around your neck and hover, four, five, six inches off the ground. You squeeze it in reassurance when she gives a little gasp.

You're high enough now that if she wants the leaf, she can pluck in herself.

She reaches around the side of your head though and just places gentle fingertips on its cold, smooth surface. She pets at it like the tiny bit of fluff on the head of a hamster, rubbing it back and forth between her fingers.

"You could have it, you know?" you say quietly.

Tsumiki leans her cheek on the top of your head, so intentionally casual, like she doesn't want to make a big deal of it. "It won't feel the same," she says.

And you suppose she's right. Some things aren't the same once you grasp hold of them. Some things die.

It's a snapshot in your mind when Tsumiki grabs the fur on the edge of your hood and you gradually lower yourself back down.

She wriggles off of your back, quick as a little fish, and walks ahead of you to catch up with Megumi, hand fisted in the thick ruff of Light Demon Dog's fur.

Satoru's waiting, sunglasses partway down his nose, hands back in his pockets.

When you tilt your head to the side, he doesn't flash a Cheshire white line of teeth through his pink lips. There's something softer there, something warm even on this, the coldest day since December.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #child fushiguro megumi #child fushiguro tsumiki #found family #consistent with 'my young years' oc #so it means consistent with the omegaverse stuff #but no mention of a/b/o dynamics in this one #jjk #drabble #it's very cold again this week! stay warm!

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taizi · 1 year

Note

If you're okay with another fic prompt, maybe Mikey hiding his tears in the rain? And one or all of his brothers (or friends) figuring it out and comforting him.

Can I also request it be in the 2003 verse?

Usually it’s Raph who puts his foot in his mouth in a major way, but this time it’s Leo.

It doesn’t happen often. Donnie thinks he could probably count on both hands the number of times Leo has said something intentionally hurtful to one of his brothers and still have some fingers leftover. Since returning from Japan, that frightening temper that turned their warm-hearted leader into a brooding stranger has been discarded for good, but it left a few scars. And Leo is as much a teenager as the rest of them are, even if he wasn’t always free to act like it. It’s not fair to expect him to regulate his emotions all the time. It wouldn’t be fair to expect that of a non-traumatized seventeen year old, let alone a kid with PTSD and anxiety and god only knows what else.

So really it shouldn’t be as surprising as it is when the words come bulleting out of Leo’s mouth, sharp and seething, “Some ninja you are.”

It shouldn’t be, but Raph whips around like someone struck him upside the head, and Donnie’s hands on Mikey’s shoulders clench tight involuntarily. He’s still kneeling in front of Mikey, still mopping up the blood on his head with a shirt Raph unapologetically ripped off a clothes line, still halfway through mentally cataloging the fatalistic difference another inch to the left would have made, so he has a front-row seat to the hurt that parades across the smallest turtle’s expression.

That hurt hadn’t even existed when the Purple Dragon threw the knife at Mikey’s head in the first place. He’d been laughing a second ago, shaking off the jitters from the very close-call. Leo’s bitter condemnation stole that away in an instant. Their eldest brother is special and important to each of them, but he’s Mikey’s hero.

Rain is drumming all around them, cascading off the boarded-up storefront overhang they’ve sheltered under. It’s early May and the recent days have gotten warmer, but abruptly Donnie feels very cold.

“He don’t got eyes in the back of his head, Fearless,” Raph snaps back, like clockwork. His hackles are up, because as far as he’s concerned, only one person on this planet is allowed to give Mikey any semblance of a hard time, and that person is decidedly not Leonardo.

“Then how about a little spacial awareness?” Leo bites out, squaring his shoulders when Raph faces him, as if they’ve never managed to mature past thirteen years old. “We’re running drills in the dojo starting tomorrow.”

It’s on the tip of Donnie’s tongue to say the hell we are, but he doesn’t bother. Raph and Leo are starting their unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object routine and they’ll be at it for a good five minutes at least. Instead he reminds himself that his big brothers are keyed up and agitated out of worry and care, that the fighting only started after Donnie gave the all-clear, because it really won’t do anyone any good if all three of them lose their tempers.

A second later Mikey is leaning out of Donnie’s hands and pushing himself to his feet. He’s looking right at Leo with all that hurt packed away into a neat little box, impossible to find. His orange mask is stained a stomach-turning rust color. The balled-up shirt is still in Donnie’s hand and Mikey is just letting himself bleed.

“Mike,” Donnie says helplessly.

“I’ll text you later,” he replies and ducks away quickly, out from under the overhang into the alley. Donnie sometimes wonders at the things his family has normalized over the years. His only little brother, the only person Donatello has always been directly responsible for, is all plastered with rain and walking off with a head wound, and it’s not even in the top ten worst things that’s happened so far this year. And it’s May.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Leo says suddenly. He storms after Mikey, reaching out like he’s going to grab him by the arm, and Donnie has just a second to think yeah that’s not good before Mikey whirls around.

“Back off!”

It stops Leo in his tracks so completely that it probably would have been funny in another time and place. He blinks dumbly, like the computer in his brain is rebooting. Donnie knows that this sudden temper of his was triggered by fear—that the sight of a knife flying towards his littlest brother’s head woke up something ugly in his brain that sprang to the defense in the quickest, easiest manner it could, clouding rational thought—but that doesn’t mean his words hurt any less.

Mikey wipes roughly at his face with the heel of his hand. It’s impossible to tell through the rain, but he might be crying. Then, with an economy of motion that all his brothers have envied since they were clumsy little toddlers, the orange-banded turtle scales the side of the adjacent building and disappears over the roof into the dark.

“Well done, asshole,” Raph says, but it’s half-hearted at best. “At this rate, I’ll be out of a job.”

Leo’s brow is furrowed beneath his mask. His hand is still slightly raised, like Mikey is still right there within reach. He’s never been here before, Donnie knows. Even when Leo was at his most hateful, those painful weeks after the showdown with the Shredder, Raph and Donnie—and even April, Casey and Splinter—were careful to keep him the fuck away from Mikey on his darker days. There are some things that can’t be walked back.

This isn’t that. To be frank, they’ve said much worse to each other over much smaller fish. But sometimes hurt can spring up where it’s least expected. And sometimes when you get a knife thrown at your head, you want sympathy from the person you’ve spent your whole life idolizing, not scorn.

“Why did I say that,” Leo mutters. It doesn’t sound like a question.

Donnie answers anyway. “Because you’ve refused every single one of my attempts to get you into therapy. Telehealth exists, Nardo. We’re on a very good insurance plan.”

“Since when do we have insurance?” Raph says. He’s peering out from under the overhang into the rain, like maybe Mikey’s going to make a surprise reappearance. “Are you frauding some sleezy millionaire again?”

“Just doing my part,” Donnie says mildly. He touches Leo’s shoulder and says, “You owe him an apology. But he’ll be okay.”

It’ll be a cold day in hell when just that would be enough to make Leo stop worrying, especially in this case, but Donnie still had to try. Sure enough, Leo nods once, mechanically, and then says, “Can you track his phone?”

“Slow down, Mamanardo,” Raph says. “Let the kid have a minute to himself.”

“He’s hurt,” Leo replies like it’s making him sick to think about. Donnie has a comment locked and loaded that sounds something along the lines of “how convenient of you to remember that now and not when you and Raph were ripping each other’s heads off” but he chooses to be the bigger turtle.

“He’ll be okay,” Donnie reiterates. He tosses the ruined shirt into a nearby bin and then sticks his hands out into the rain, washing the sticky, tacky red away. “Besides, tracking his phone is unnecessary. There’s only one place he would have gone.”

Even Raph raises an eyeridge at that, and Leo is equally clueless, but that’s okay. Donnie has been Mikey’s co-conspirator and secret-keeper since before they could talk in full sentences, and it’s only fair, because Mikey has been all of those things for him, too. Being on the B Team doesn’t have a lot of perks, but this is one of them.

A couple of hours later, Donnie successfully shakes his brothers off at the lair. Splinter caught Donnie’s eye and helpfully ushered the elder two turtles into the dojo for a convenient meditation session, so Donnie didn’t have to worry about a pair of red and blue mother hens trailing after him.

He crawls up the side of an apartment building in East Village and sits on the railing of the fire escape to peer into a warmly-lit window on the seventh floor. Inside his little brother and his little brother’s best friend, a human with piles and piles of curly blond hair and dimples when he smiles, are probably minutes away from getting a noise complaint, dancing around a cramped shoebox living room and singing at the top of their lungs.

“Girl, put your records on,” they bellow, sharing the TV remote as if it’s a microphone. “Tell me your favorite song! You go ahead, let your hair down!”

There’s a big pink bandaid plastered to the side of Mikey’s head, and evidence of Thai takeout on the coffee table that’s been shoved to the side of the room, and he’s in a sunflower yellow hoodie that’s at least two sizes too big. Any trace of the hurt from earlier is long-gone.

They’ll need to get home eventually. It isn’t safe to stay out in the early morning hours, as the city that never sleeps begins to pick up speed. And Leo is almost certainly going to be waiting up for them, restless until he sees for himself that his baby brother hasn’t been driven away by him completely. They really do need to get that boy some therapy. Donnie makes a mental note to get April on his team for that.

For now, there’s still some time. Until the end of this song, at least. It’s catchy.

#tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #hamato donatello #hamato leonardo #hamato michelangelo #hamato raphael #woody dirkins #my writing #tmnt fic #prompt #anonymous #woodyangelo #b team #hero bros #im a simple creature. i get a tmnt prompt i write woody into it somehow #also this song is stuck in my head now thanks a lot boys

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