#ooc: if you want this changing lemme know

[miryum]

The Canary and the Robin (Jason Todd x Reader)

Summary: You find Jason being tortured by the Joker and decided to take him in, imperfections and all. If he happens to be your soulmate, so be it

Warnings: I know reader acts like a white person in a horror movie but bear with me, OOC Talia, descriptions of torture, Joker hurting Jason, descriptions of flashbacks of torture, allusions to sexual assault from the Joker unto Jason but not descriptive at all, panic attack, ignore locations and timelines, timer soulmates once they turn 8, swearing, a lotta angst (literally starts out with Jason’s funeral), but happy ending, hurt/comfort, Jason doesn’t have guns or an autopsy scar in this cause he’s Robin still and lemme tell you it’s so unnatural for me to write him without those, perspective switching, conscious wording (so everything is written like that for a reason), Jason’s awful parents and their drinking and harassment (just descriptions on them yelling and drinking and smoking), spoilers to Great Gatsby, kinda open ended, but also not at all? if that makes sense, lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 12k so grab some snacks and tissues

Canary in a coal mine is a common term meant to describe something that’s unusually sensitive to conditions that make it a useful early indicator of negatively changing circumstances.

Jason’s funeral was on May 16th, just eight months after he had been taken by the Joker. Alfred had chosen daisies, lilacs, and lotuses for the flowers, but Bruce brought a bouquet of hyacinths to lay on his son’s casket. As much as Bruce Wayne liked to flaunt his wealth, these hyacinths were hand pulled from his own gardens. Roots and dirts still clung to the end of the stems when Jason’s coffin was lowered into the ground. 

Dick had come in from Bludhaven. When he had heard the news, his timer stopped and reversed itself until it added a year and a half onto his time. He had just gotten a brother and had been learning how to be a role model when his brother was dragged away from him, kicking and screaming. It wasn’t fair, Dick kept repeating to himself. A teenager shouldn’t be targeted just because he eagerly trailed on Batman’s heels, snarky comebacks and smirks ready to fire.

There was a public funeral where paparazzi clicked away at their cameras and Bruce stood stoically in the front row, clearing his throat at the podium when he had to make a eulogy. There was then a private funeral where the casket was actually lowered beneath a gladiolus bush. There were no eulogies for none of the family could bring themselves to say much. It was just Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Barbara. Selina Kyle showed up that night in Bruce’s room and Dick pretended not to hear Bruce’s sobs. Alfred stood in the doorway of Jason’s old room, feather duster in hand. After a couple of minutes, he hung his head and walked off, closing the door behind him. Nothing was cleaned.

The next day, tabloids displayed the pictures of Bruce Wayne standing by a casket. Bruce stopped investing in any companies that did. His own stock dropped, but Bruce wasn’t answering his financial advisor’s calls. He wasn’t answering any calls. 

It was late one night and Dick couldn’t sleep. He had been wanting to return to Bludhaven, but whenever he opened his suitcase, he couldn’t bring himself to pack. He found Alfred in the kitchen, pouring some hot tea. “I figured you would join me one night,” Alfred commented without looking back. 

Dick couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his eyes. “Your sixth sense is never wrong, Alfred.” 

Alfred slid a cup over to Dick who took it thankfully, not caring that the tea burnt his tongue. Perhaps it was what he deserved for not being there to help Jason. “I should’ve-”

“Mister Grayson,” Alfred cut him off. “The Joker was ten steps ahead of Batman. Not even the powerful Nightwing could’ve helped. And you could not have flown to Africa in time.” 

“It was closed casket,” Dick whispered out. “I didn’t even get to see my little brother before he was gone.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. 

“It was closed casket because Master Wayne couldn’t find Master Jason’s…” Alfred exhaled and corrected himself, “He couldn’t find Master Jason.”

Dick’s head lifted and his hands clenched around his cup. “What?” he breathed out. Desperation filled his voice, “but Alfie, he could still be out there! Jason could be alive!” Alfred simply gave him a stern look and Dick’s stomach bubbled with nausea. “Yeah,” he muttered bitterly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” His jaw tensed and after a moment, he decided, “I’m going to go back to Bludhaven tomorrow.”

“Safe travels,” is all Alfred said.

It was then that Bruce woke from a nightmare of his dead son screaming out for him.

~~~~

You hadn’t meant to be passing by Arkham Asylum. It wasn’t something one did intentionally; in fact, many people went out of their way to avoid it. But it seemed as if fate wasn’t on your side today, for when your car broke down right outside Arkham Asylum, you didn’t notice the watch on your wrist ticking down quicker and quicker. You swore to yourself and took the mace out of your glove compartment before sliding your keys in between your fingers. Arkham Asylum had been practically abandoned for years, but perhaps there was a janitor or receptionist who could help you get service. Then you could call a mechanic and get the hell out of there. 

The gates to Arkham had rust creeping up the edges and the lock clanged sharply against its chains. Maybe there wasn’t going to be a receptionist in the building… But perhaps there would be a phone you could use. In order for the gates to creak open, you had to force your bodyweight against the metal and try to shove the lock out of the way, praying you didn’t get tetanus in the process. 

The door to Arkham, however, swung open without a sound. It seemed as if someone had been regularly visiting the Asylum, even if there was no one to visit – or love – in the building. “Hello?” you stage whispered, phone flashlight on, and finger on the button on your mace. 

There was clearly a reason why the public wasn’t exposed to Arkham. All reports were classified and no photographers were allowed in. Wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, you stared around at Arkham Asylum. The halls were long and dark, meant to cause paranoia and confusion. It was certainly working on you. The only light peeking through was from the grime covered windows and your flashlight. The ceiling was crumbling slightly and you were pretty sure Arkham had been under construction when it had been abandoned; otherwise, how could you explain all the dust, debris, and graffiti? You didn’t even want to think of the disease-carrying rodents that were surely scurrying underneath your feet. 

“Is anything here? That can help me?” Your voice echoed down the cell block, vibrating off the metal bars and old bunks. 

You reeled back when your foot kicked a pebble, sending it ricocheting off your sneaker. After the pebble settled some yards away, you took in a steadying breath. You heard a faint sound, one that didn’t sound at all like a pebble. “Hello?” you asked again. Shadows danced around as you shone your flashlight down the hall, messing with your mind. 

When you strained your ears, it sounded as if a faint wail could be heard. Your brows furrowed with worry and instinctively, you started towards it. Your watch ticked down faster as disquietude and anxiety rippled through you like snakes, biting and twisting in your veins. Your flashlight bounced over empty, desolate cells as your pace quickened and the screams got louder. You contemplated calling the police, but when you checked your phone, you didn’t have any service. And who knew if the police would help or not? Arkham was a place only the brave or stupid went; right now, you were pretty sure you were the latter. 

The screams took you deeper and deeper into the Asylum and you prayed that you would be able to find your way out. If you ever got out… your mind immediately thought. 

It wasn’t long before the blood curdling howls shook you to your bones. They seemed to be coming from a cell, yet when you pointed your flashlight towards it, heart thumping at what you might find, there was nothing. But the screams were there. You weren’t making them up. Where the hell were they coming from– oh.

A shiver ran up your spine when you noticed the comical trapdoor in the corner of the cell. You wondered if the Arkham architects intentionally put it there when they were designing this horror house, or if an inmate had scraped a hidden passageway with a spoon they stole from the cafeteria. 

Nonetheless, when you pried open the door, a wall of whimpers and cries from torture hit you full force. You shook your head, steeling yourself, before swallowing down the queasiness. The goosebumps on your arms were full-time residents now. 

Your feet carried you down the dirt steps of the trapdoor. Your mind wasn’t particularly your own. Your brain was foggy. Your body felt like a child had taken your hand and was leading you down the steps. Later in your life, when you thought back to that moment, you knew the universe had been guiding you. But even if you didn’t make it out of Arkham Asylum, you knew your life was going to drastically change. The nonexistent hand squeezed yours in comfort as your heart jumped and pounded when the faint light at the bottom of the stairs grew brighter. 

A small chamber resided under Arkham Asylum, as you found out that day. In the chamber were two people. One held a crowbar dripping with blood. His back was turned to you, but any citizen of Gotham would recognise that pastel green and purple suit anywhere. The Joker was alive. 

But the second person caught your eye. He was strung up from the ceiling, crusty, brown chains trapping him midair. The red outfit he was wearing was being held together by tatters, but you didn’t know if the outfit was originally red or covered with blood. A black and yellow cape was clinging onto the victim’s back, burnt and torn. A green utility belt had been thrown in the corner, its pockets overturned and emptied. 

And your timer buzzed against your wrist.

You didn’t register it at first, but after a moment of incessant buzzing, you tore your horrified stare away from the ruined man and to your wrist. A crude joke bounced into your head: so either my soulmate is the Joker or someone who wronged him… Either way, not ideal. 

The Joker stood proud and tall, shoulders thrown back and grin wide. “Come on, Robby,” he taunted. “You and I both know these little excursions of ours go better when you make noise. How I love to make you sing…”

It was then you registered the Robin symbol on the man’s breast. You slowly pieced everything together, realising that the person in front of you was the presumably dead Robin. You couldn’t help the little, amazed curse word that slipped out from between your lips. 

The Joker slid out a syringe from his pocket and slunk up beside Robin, injecting the green serum into his neck. Joker chuckled as he pressed the liquid further into Robin’s neck, whispering into his ear, “now, now, you mustn’t leave me, Robby. But whatever would you leave for? Now that the Bats has forgotten you.” Joker was mercilessly teasing the sidekick, spit flicking onto his cheek. Robin whimpered, a parched and cracked noise from the back of his throat. 

“Louder, Robby, louder!” The Joker coaxed in a cooing voice. You grimaced and wanted to crawl out of your skin at his voice. Once you realised your mace wasn’t going to do you any good, your eyes darted around the small torture dungeon. Eventually, they landed on a discarded, bent pipe that had a disturbing red colour coated on. You willed yourself not to think of what the substance was. 

Even though Robin’s limp, swinging body was facing towards you, you doubted he could see you. With the drugs running through his veins, his vision would surely be blurred and his mind muddled.

It was just your luck when, as you were inching towards the pipe, your phone decided to work and began buzzing loudly, indicating a call from your friend, Talia. The Joker whirled around, crowbar in hand and you squealed, grabbing the pipe. Before the Joker could react, his eyes widening in shock, you swung the pipe at his head. With the clang of metal against skull, the Joker collapsed, unconscious. You stared down at him, disbelief flooding your body. Oh my god, I just killed the Joker. Or, at the very least, gave him a good concussion. Your hands shook as a little pool of blood seeped out from Joker’s head. You dropped the pipe and it clattered to the dirt floor. A little groan that escaped Robin and your still-ringing phone brought you back to Earth. 

“Shit, shit, I gotta get outta here,” you muttered, looking around frantically. Your phone kept ringing and with a swear, you brought it to your ear. “What?” you growled out. 

“Wow, what has your panties in a twist?” Talia asked back snarkily. 

You held your phone between your shoulder and your head as you hurried towards Robin. “Nothing, nothing, sorry,” you muttered as you attempted to free him from the chains. “Why’re you calling?”

“Why are you so stressed? You sound like you just ran a marathon,” Talia said through the phone. You could envision her checking her nails while doing so. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You finally got Robin’s wrists to slip from the chains and he fell down onto you. You grunted under his weight. Apparently, just because he had been starved and tortured for months didn’t mean he had lost his superhero muscle. 

Talia paused for a moment and you could practically hear the gears in her brian turning. “Do you need me to help hide a body?” she asked suddenly. 

You laughed nervously as you shifted Robin to your shoulder and began dragging him towards the steps. “No?” you finally answered. “Though if you wanted to meet me by Arkham Asylum with your working car and a cure for an almost dead superhero, that would be great.”

“I will be there in twenty minutes.”

~~~~

“How did this happen?” Talia demanded, more curiosity in her voice than malice and anxiety. You were in her passenger seat, staring at the wounded Robin who was laid in the back. Talia weaved through traffic with ease, headed towards the Yuyan Building.

“I don’t know!” you cried out, panic infusing itself into your blood. It felt similar to the way the Joker had infused serum into Robin. You clutched at the seatbelt, hoping it would take some of your dread. “My car just stopped working and then I was just going into Arkham Asylum like an idiot and I found the dead Robin! He was supposed to be dead, right? It was all over the news!”

“And then Batman got another Robin,” Talia added, almost bitterly. You shot her a confused look and she glanced over at you. Her eyes flickered down to your wrist before you yelled at her to focus on the road again. “You are a rational person, Y/n,” Talia began as the car screeched to a halt outside an imposing, ornate building. You stared up at it as Talia got out of the car. You scrambled to help her with Robin. The two of you each had one of his arms over your shoulders, his feet scraping along the ground, head lolling to the side, as you carried him in. “I do not think you would go into Arkham Asylum without something else guiding you,” Talia continued. “Do not think I did not notice your stopped timer. He is your soulmate, is he not?”

You nodded, not trusting your words. You were worried you would start crying if you actually had a moment to process all of the day’s events. “Will your dad help?” you asked finally, voice wavering.

Talia chuckled dryly, eyes narrowing on a fixed point ahead of you. She led you and Robin deeper into Yuyan Building. “If it gets on Batman’s good side? Absolutely.”

“I’ll take him after you’re done healing him,” you added quickly. “I’ll take him back home and care for him if you and your dad help me this one time.” You realised it sounded like you were begging for help. Briefly, you wondered what had happened in such a short time to make you care so much for Robin. Part of you decided it was what any rational, kind human being would do – help someone who was badly hurt – but another part of you knew that wasn’t the case. You felt tied to this boy you didn’t even know the name of. Whether it was through your soulmate bond or not, you knew you were connected to Robin. You felt his pain and terror. Even though he was unconscious, you could feel his resistance tugging against you. He didn’t want to go with you. He was scared of what you might do to him. His emotions dug into you and you felt a whimper crawling up your throat, begging for escape. 

It was then you steeled yourself and decided one thing: you weren’t going to let your soulmate die. 

Yuyan Building held deeper secrets, you realised. Talia directed you down long hallways and steep stairwells and you felt bad for the custodians who had to clean up Robin’s trail of blood. It was long minutes, full of you groaning under Robin’s weight and Talia looking unaffected, before Talia stopped at a large, ominous door. 

You couldn’t look Ra’s in the eye as he slung Robin into the Lazarus Pit. You could only watch the bubbling green liquid as Robin slowly sunk to the bottom. Agonising minutes ticked by, halted only by Ra’s and Talia whispers to each other. 

You hugged yourself tightly after five minutes passed and you called anxiously to Talia, “do- does he need help? Is he hurting? Why is it taking so long?”

“He had a lot of injuries, Y/n,” Talia reassured you, coming to place a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “He will be okay.”

Yeah. He’ll be okay.

~~~~

Jason’s eyes burned. Green was all that he could see. He tried to breathe in, but the only thing that filled his lungs was the green surrounding him. When the liquid filled his lungs and he coughed out, bubbles trailed up to the surface like a safety rope guiding the way. 

Jason stretched a hand out in front of him, muscles aching at disuse. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to run away, would we, Robby?” The Joker’s voice called after him as Jason kicked his feet futilely. “Not our little prince!” 

A flitting feeling coursed through Jason: curiosity and concern, but he was too weak to form a thought. His arm, reaching out towards the bubbles that led him upward, didn’t look like his own. He remembered the scars criss-crossing along it and he remembered the dirt and grime infecting cuts and burns, even digging its way underneath his nails, but he didn’t remember looking so… strong. Since when did he have the muscles and veins that looked like years of exercise had paid off? Batman had kept him fit – Robin needed to be able to hold his own, but he didn’t quite remember it working so well. 

His hand finally breached the top of the green waves, grasping up towards breathable air and safety. 

Green. Like the Joker. Another one of his charades. A playing card, to show Jason he wasn’t free yet. He was never free.

Everything was disillusioning. His vision veered sideways before becoming foggy and nausea crashed through Jason, like the waves in which he was trying to fight against.

“Stop struggling!” he heard someone cry out, “you’re making your own waves! You have to swim.”

He saw someone reaching out towards him and without a second thought, Jason extended his bandaged hand, clinging onto the buoy in the storm. Their hand was soft and comforting and dragged him out of the water. Jason allowed himself to be dragged. He didn’t have the energy to fight the Joker. He had given up much too long ago. 

“What did you do to him?” someone asked once Jason fell to the ground. The world spun around him and he couldn’t recognise whomever was speaking. He gasped in desperate air, filling his deprived lungs. 

“Take in a good, deep breath, Robby. Smell that blood? It’s yours. A reminder that Bats isn’t gonna come save you. Doesn’t it smell delicious?” The Joker hissed at him, inhaling himself. He cackled and licked his lips. “You’re a sweet little bird, aren’t you?”

“Why does he look like that?” the same voice asked. Jason heard a small thud over the ringing in his ears. 

“The Lazarus Pit not only receives, but it returns, ten times stronger,” a deep voice explained. “It takes what it has been given, and it blossoms it into its full potential. What it needs to become.”

Jason flinched away from the hands that rested on him. The hands retreated and Jason wondered what new tactic the Joker was trying. The Joker never retreated.

The voices were getting more frantic and his heartbeat seemed amplified. As Jason was slowly lifted up, he passed out.

~~~~

The next time Jason woke up, the first thing he noticed was the clock. There was a digital clock on a small table beside him, green numbers staring unblinkingly up at him. Green as in the Joker. Clock as in a bomb. Does he want me to defuse the bomb? Or is it all a trick? The Joker never let me see any clocks. Time was a valuable construct, one the Joker used to his advantage. If Jason didn’t know how much time had passed, the Joker could stretch the days and the torture. 

It took Jason a moment to blink the sleep from his mind. Then, he let his eyes flick around the room as his body stayed perfectly still. It was a tactic he learned from Batman – never let anyone know you were awake. He could categorise helpful information for later, such as possible escape routes, and if the Joker didn’t know he was awake quite yet, there would be less time for torture.

The former Robin was in a room. He didn’t recognise it and that scared Jason more than he would ever admit. There was a dresser opposite him with pictures on it. He couldn’t quite make out who was in the pictures, but it didn’t quite matter yet. A closet door was closed and next to it stood a tall mirror that had a blanket thrown over it. A small bookshelf sat beside him and when Jason had the mental capacity, he couldn’t help but feel the pull to read the titles. It smelled better than anything in a long time. Instead of urine and festering skin, this place smelled like lavender and vanilla. 

It was only then Jason realised he was laying on a bed. And there were no restraints tying him down to it. 

What new tactic was this? What scheme was the Joker pulling? What game did he want Jason to play? What was the objective? The trick Jason had to uncover to live another day? 

Green and purple and yellow whirled around Jason and he gripped his head, begging the colours to stop. Carnival music played loudly in his ears, that same damn tune for the past thirty six hours. 

Strapped to a chair, there was nowhere to escape the Joker’s mind games. Jason had been sedated more times than he could count and dragged to new locations where the Joker found new ways to torment him. Today’s lucky special was the Joker’s old hideout at the abandoned carnival. 

It wasn’t long before the Joker’s voice rang out from within hidden speakers. “Show me those street smarts, Robby! Play with me. Maybe I’ll let you go…” he jeered and inveigled. 

The spinning stopped and Jason planted his feet on the ground. His head dipped and his mouth hung open, eyes crossed and half-lidded. The Joker stood before him, leaning on his crowbar. “Ah, ah, ah,” the Joker tsked. “You're losing your touch, Robby.” The Joker ran his tongue over his teeth, lips curling up in a tantalising grin before lifting the crowbar back. 

Jason didn’t hear anything before he blacked out.

It had seemed that he had blacked out in real life too, for the time had advanced three hours and the sun had sunk in the sky. Next to the clock was a tall glass of water and a small plate of crackers. Two pills of unassuming tylenol sat nearby.

Someone had been in here, Jason realised. The thought made his skin crawl and he quickly flung off the sheets, not used to the feeling of cotton. After a quick analysis of his body, even though his skin was already wrecked and flayed, there weren't the telltale nail marks on his thighs that the Joker had been there in his sleep. The only thing out of the ordinary were the bandages and cleaned wounds. His armour was nowhere to be seen and he had been stuffed into pyjama pants and a shirt that seemed a bit tight. 

Panic flashed through his spine and Jason flung his legs over the mattress. He promptly collapsed and his knees ached at the impact. It took a moment of forcing his lungs open and letting oxygen flow through his system once more until he was able to crawl pathetically towards the covered mirror. His fingers twisted around the sheet and dragged it downward, letting it pool on the floor and around his legs. 

Staring back at him wasn’t his face. It was the face of someone who had lived ten more years and seen fifty more years of battle. 

Jason promptly swung his fist at the glass, shattering the mirror and letting the shards rain down. But he could still see his reflection. Jason forced his eyes away from the unfamiliar face and the scars he could feel burning into his skin.

Just a trick of the Joker. That’s all it ever was. He was never free and never more would believe so. Everything was consumed by that pale skin, green hair, and purple nails. Everything was a mind game followed by excruciating pain. 

His gaze drifted back to the water and crackers. It could be tainted. But the Joker also needed him alive to continue their games. There was always a grace period for Jason to heal before the next session began. 

He limped back to the bed, downed the water, not daring to touch the pills, and fell back onto the pillow. He shifted and adjusted the pillow. It felt uncomfortable. He threw it to the other side of the room before rubbing at his aching wrists. His skin there was red and irritated, not used to being out of chains. That was unusual, when Jason truly thought about it. The Joker knew how powerful Jason was. Jason had even managed to escape his chains once, back when he was healthy and convinced Batman would come and rescue him. But a bullet to the malnourished stomach was enough to stop anyone. 

He kept massaging his hands until his fingers skirted over the bare skin of the inside left wrist. It felt like something should be there. Something was missing. 

“Well well well,” Joker’s voice crooned in his ear. The man’s fingers curled around Jason's wrist. Long fingers tapped a tune on the proud watch that sat on Jason’s skin, ticking like a heartbeat. “Does our little Robby have a soulmate?” 

The boy’s muscles tensed, protesting against the Joker for the first time in weeks. He had been trying to keep the watch hidden for as long as possible, but he should’ve known it was futile.

“But who on earth could love you?” The Joker questioned deridingly.

Jason’s cracked lips parted and he forced a “no” from his parched throat. “Don’t.”

The Joker giggled – a high pitched, ugly sound that would haunt Jason’s nightmare’s for years to come. “Oh… and have you met your true love yet?” 

“Stop it.” Jason wiggled away from the Joker’s searing grip but nothing helped.

The psychopath’s nails embedded crescents into Robin's skin as he forced his wrist around. “No no no,” the Joker tsked as he watched the clock inch down towards zero. “You haven’t met them yet… what?” He turned back towards Jason, eyes wide with fake innocence. “You think they’re gonna come save you, Robby?” A burst of laughter bubbled from the murderer. “Never,” he hissed in Jason’s ear, making the boy cringe away, his chains swinging with him. 

A sob crawled its way up Jason’s lungs as the Joker grabbed his chains, steadying him, before licking a stripe up Jason’s cheek, leaving behind saliva and horrid breath. The Joker then licked his lips, relishing in the taste of Robin’s blood and tears. 

“You really think you deserve anyone?” The Joker whispered in his ear, more serious than Jason had ever seen him. His fist clenched around Jason’s watch and the boy let out a whimper. “You don’t.” The glass cracked under the Joker’s force. “Deserve shit.” He ripped the soulmate watch from Jason and threw it to the ground. The delicate watch sprang open and the timer stopped in its tracks. 

Jason let out a guttural scream as the Joker ground the glass into the dirt with his heel. 

~~~~

A loud thump yanked Jason out of sleep. A sharp feminine yelp followed and Jason was instantly on his feet, no matter the spots that danced in his vision. 

A small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Alfred chastised him for not staying in bed and letting his body heal. “Master Jason, how are you supposed to fight crime if you can’t even walk straight?”

Nevertheless, Jason pushed open the door, raggedly breathing and clutching his side. He was sure he looked like a serial killer of some sort, blood staining through his bandages and hair sloppily matted to his forehead from sweat. 

A girl stared at him from across the room. She was smaller than him, was what Jason noticed first. He then noticed her eyes. They were a striking colour and seemed to bore into him, knowing his every want and desire. They were cautious, yet Jason thought he imagined excitement running deep within the girl. 

“Who’re you?” Jason mumbled out, leaning heavily against the doorframe. 

The girl took a breath and said, “I’m Y/n.” A blanket was curled around her feet, much like the blanket that Jason had snatched from the mirror hours earlier. Her hair was a bit messy and Jason categorised a pillow propped up against the armrest of the couch. 

“How’re you—” Jason cut himself off and shook his head. “What’re your… Who…” he struggled to find a question that encapsulated everything while not giving too much away about himself. 

Y/n took a step closer, almost as if he was a wild animal that she didn’t want to startle. It didn’t work; Jason stumbled back over his feet and back into the bedroom. Y/n didn’t follow. “I was at Arkham Asylum three days ago and found you.”

“What were you doing there?” Jason demanded, his words slurred. 

“My car broke down,” Y/n explained easily, though Jason didn’t believe her one bit. “I was looking for help and… found you instead. I had to call a friend for help.”

Jason was done with pleasantries. Alfred had frowned upon swearing, and the boy had quickly learned not to use the words he had heard on the street or the insults villains spat at Batman once they were in handcuffs. But he wasn’t standing next to Batman in bright spandex anymore. He was bleeding through someone else’s clothes and he wasn’t in his own body and there was a girl who was wearing a dark green sweatshirt and green reminded him of the Joker. “Bullshit,” he growled out. His voice didn’t have that prepubescent squeak to it anymore and his veined hand reached up to massage his throat. 

Y/n’s brows stitched together and she stared up at him, slipping the cuffs of her sweater over her hands. “No. It’s not bullshit. I promise,” she said, her voice saccharine. “Look, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days, trying to sleep off that poison the Joker put in you, I’m sure.”

Jason flinched back so hard that he stepped back onto the glass shards from the mirror. It cut into his heel and he winced, blood already leaking from the wound. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Y/n exclaimed, crouching down and then standing back up quickly. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to help you with that? Why don’t you sit on the bed and I’ll grab some bandaids.” Y/n hurried away out of the bedroom and Jason stood still. 

Help. 

Help you. 

“You’re gonna help me win back Batman, Robby,” the Joker whispered in his ear, spit flicking on his face. “You are vital. You will be his downfall.”

Help.

Help me.

Y/n came back, shaking Jason out of the parallels. “You’re not on the bed,” she commented. Jason’s feet automatically moved towards the bed — he knew better than to argue with the Joker, but then he remembered he wasn’t with the Joker. This was a girl who looked like one strong look would have her cowering beneath him, especially if he actually had the physique he saw in the now-broken mirror. 

“Who are you,” he repeated his question from earlier, turning back to look at her. 

“Y/n,” the girl reiterated, head tilting slightly. 

“No.” Jason shook his head. “Who are you. Who do you work for?”

Y/n’s brows scrunched together in confusion and she said, “well, my boss is named Marlene, if that’s what you’re asking. But I don’t see how that’s particularly relevant.”

Jason’s chest rose and fell and he brought his hand up to claw at it. “Liar,” he hissed out. “You… you liar!” A yell curled its way up through him and his nails scratched at his throat, trying to tear this unfamiliar voice from him. Who was he? This wasn’t Jason Todd, the broken boy from Crime Alley. This was someone much more dangerous and unpredictable. Batman had always taught Jason how to analyse plans and choose the one with the highest success rate. But this was a different Jason. This Jason was a tornado, sweeping through every emotion he didn’t know how to handle. 

He saw green. And that only reminded him of the years spent under the Asylum.

Jason tore the sheets from the bed. He shoved things off the bedside table and consequently the lamp fell, its bulb shattering and then flickering out. The room was plunged into darkness. The only source of light was from the barely rising sun, peeking its rays into the window and bathing the edges of the room with pink and orange and yellow. 

The light danced across Y/n’s face as she stared around at the damage Jason was inflicting. Pity and guilt ran rampant on her face and she didn’t stop him.

Jason moved throughout the room, the only things he spared being the dresser and the bookshelf. 

After some time, he collapsed onto the floor, heaving in breaths. It wasn't long before he slowly leaned back to lay down. Y/n carefully sat down next to him, staying a good couple feet away. "I know you don't trust me," she said. She slipped her sleeve down her wrist, tucking in her hands. The outline of a watch pressed against the fabric and Jason stared at it numbly and unthinking. "But my name is Y/n. I work at the Gotham Gazette. My boss's name is Marlene. She's pretty nice and I'm up for a raise soon. I've lived in Gotham my whole life, even while my brother moved away the first chance he got. I've contemplated leaving for a long time, but I could never bring myself to do it." She pointed to a picture that sat on her dresser – one of the only things Jason hadn't destroyed. "That's him. My brother."

Jason didn't move his head to look. His green vision began to fade. 

“When I was growing up I had a fish. His name was Captain Sparkles,” Y/n kept on talking. “He was pretty cool and lived a long time for a fish. Two years, if you’re interested. I’m going to Gotham University and studying English so I can hopefully move up the line of command at the Gazette. My parents are chill and are empty nesters with two dogs out in the countryside. My dad always pledged never to get a dog, but now I’m pretty sure they’re ahead of me in the will.” She chuckled and tugged at her hair. 

Jason turned on his side away from her and he missed her eyes trailing after him sadly. Y/n swallowed and blinked away the sting of impending tears. 

“I have a little routine going,” Y/n continues, her voice cracking slightly. “You know, wake up, go to class — I’m a sophomore — come home and do homework. When I don’t have class, I go to work.” The girl wraps her arms around her knees and tucks her chin in. “What I’m trying to get at, I guess, is that I don’t work for the Joker.”

Jason flinched and cradled his head in his hands. Everything Y/n was telling him seemed true; she didn’t seem like an agent of the Joker, but his mind screamed at him to not trust anybody. Each syllable she spoke seemed like a reminder of how normal he was supposed to be. Day in and day out, when the Joker was pushing Jason’s limits, pulling him to the brink of death, Jason had wished to be normal. To not have met Batman that fateful day. To not have accepted the Robin pedestal. To go to high school and college and live in a dorm and get drunk and then regret it the next day. 

What he would give to be normal. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/n muttered. “I didn't mean to say his name. I know it must be triggering.” She exhaled and was silent for a moment. “I’ll go,” she eventually whispered. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Jason heard her stand and move to the door. No! Please don’t go. I- I can’t be alone. I don’t know how to be alone. But the words didn’t come. 

The door clicked shut behind Y/n. Tears made their way down Jason’s face and his body shook with the effort to keep silent. 

I would rather you torture me than make me be alone, he thought. My thoughts are more dangerous than any weapon.

~~~~

For all of Jason’s life, soulmates had always been in his realm of knowledge. Like bombs. He had heard the word in the news, playing with whatever he had scavenged off the street, his mom smoking on the couch behind him, TV blaring. 

But children are oblivious and it wasn’t until later in his life that he figured out what the words meant. ‘Bombs’ became synonymous with Gotham City and ‘soulmate’ became a word Jason held close to his heart. 

Everyone had a soulmate and it was common for the kids on the playground to compare their numbers ticking down. Younger children, who had yet to get their timer, gazed wistfully at older kids’ watches. Rumours of someone’s timer speeding up or slowing down blistered around the jungle gym and it chilled young Jason’s blood with the thought of not getting to meet his soulmate soon enough. 

But besides those insignificant bouts of worry, Jason was very proud of his soulmate. He would be running around the playground and when he heard someone bragging about how soon they would meet their soulmate, Jason would stop the game of tag and go over to compare numbers. 

Not everyone was as lucky as him, however. Some kids would be teased because their timer estimated that they wouldn’t meet the love of their life until they were on the brink of death. While Jason never stood up for the victim, he would never be the one to bully them. His own mom had smashed her timer when she met Jason’s deadbeat dad, wanting to defy the universe and choose her own lover. It had only led to jail time, alcohol, and negligence. Sometimes, late at night, Jason would wonder what happened to his mom’s true soulmate. Were they still out there with a paused timer, wondering who didn’t think them good enough? Did they also think they could find answers at the bottom of a bottle or did they pick themselves up and reroute their life?

What would’ve his life been like if he had two parents who loved each other and were destined to be together? 

But whenever Jason was feeling down, or he got a bad grade (which didn’t happen often), or he was beaten up in the alleyways of Gotham, or his mom smashed a bottle by his head and screamed at him, he would cast his eyes down to his soulmate timer and just remember that someone out there was for him. That someone was fated to love him. And very early on, from the moment he realised what having a soulmate actually meant, Jason decided that he would wait for however long it took and go through whatever it meant to find them. 

“Whose clothes are these?” Jason whispered, his voice cracked and desolate the next time Y/n came into the room to offer him the little food he could stomach. 

“My brother’s,” she answered easily, setting down the plate of toast and some other easy food. “I thought they would be a bit big on you, but then the Lazarus Pit made you ginormous, so they’re a bit tight now. Sorry.”

“Lazarus Pit?” Jason pushed himself to sit up, muscles groaning in protest. 

“I don’t know how much you remember,” Y/n admitted. “But once I got you out of Arkham, I brought you to my friend Talia. She has some… powerful connections to some influential people and was able to help heal you in the Lazarus Pit. I just didn’t know how much it would alter you.”

“That explains a lot,” Jason admitted dryly, thinking of his new physique, emotions, and tinted vision when he had gotten mad. 

Y/n leaned against her dresser. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to help, but I needed to. You were going to die and I need…” she trailed off and her eyes flicked down to her wrist.

“You need what?” 

“I couldn’t let someone die,” Y/n finally decided on. 

Jason accepted her answer. He felt a small tug at his chest, almost as if something wasn’t right and he wanted to correct it. “What’s…” His eyes trailed to her lap where she held her hands. His jaw twitched and he shook his head. “Never mind.” 

“You can ask me anything,” Y/n offered, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. Jason’s eyes widened when he saw her smile and his heart fluttered. Jason decided that, even if he didn’t trust Y/n yet, he would do whatever it took to keep that smile on her face. 

“No, I have nothing– I’m good– no–” 

“Spit it out, Robby. What do you want to tell your darling Joker? What are your… worries? Your concerns? Your dear Uncle Ace?” The Joker circled around an exhausted Jason. “Trust me. You can tell me anything…” His speech was slow and intoxicating. Alluring, was the word Jason would use to describe it. It was tugging him in. Jason’s eyes slipped down into sleep just as another needle pierced its way into his skin, courtesy of the Joker. 

Jason dug his nails into the palm of his hand over and over, fingers twitching over his cuticles. His face started to heat up and he swallowed roughly, blinking slowly. “I’m okay,” he mumbled out, even though Y/n didn’t ask. 

“Do you need me to leave?” she offered. 

Jason dragged his head back and forth, attempting to shake it. Eventually, it lolled back and banged against the wall. “Sorry, what?”

Y/n stood up on instinct. “Robin?” 

The title sent lightening up Jason’s spine and his gaze snapped up to stare at her, fuming. “Don’t- don’t call me that!” he screamed out. “I’m not! Stop it!”

Dearest Robin. How Batman will miss his little protégé. 

Robby… 

Robby… 

Robin!

“Let me go!” Jason shrieked. He wiped his hands on his shirt before reaching up and pulling at his hair. Everything felt wrong. “Why won’t you let me go?! Just give up,” he pleaded desperately. His eyes, wide and frantic, swept around the room until they settled on the shards of the mirror he had smashed.

His body was a graveyard.

It was only then that Jason truly comprehended how imperfect he was. 

Scars trailed down his arms and legs and he could even see a smattering of them peeking out of the collar of his shirt. Each scar and bruise was a reminder of each thing the Joker had done to him. 

Each scar is an adventure, Batman’s voice resonated in his head. An image of Batman patching up young Robin’s bloody nose flicked through Jason’s mind.

Each scar is a reminder you were never there for me, Jason thought bitterly. Each scar is a reminder that I’ll never be free of him. I’ll always be tied to the Joker. And that’s what terrifies me the most. That’s what makes me hate you, Batman. 

“Okay, okay,” Y/n surrendered, holding her hands up. “I’ll leave. But I can’t let you go. It’s not safe yet.”

It was then that Jason drove his fist into the wall. Y/n made a little squeak of surprise and seemed to flinch. 

She quickly left and Jason didn’t have time to feel bad before he crumpled onto the bed in exhaustion, bits of plaster now on the floor and sheets.

~~~~

Time after time again, the Joker visited him. The Clown Prince of Crime had grown bored with the relentless torture. There had been new tactics — he had to keep it interesting, of course — but even waterboarding hadn’t quelled the ache that the Joker felt after the boy had grown used to the whipping of chains against his skin, leaving the boy bruised and internally bleeding.

So it was time to pull out all the stops. The Joker strolled into the makeshift dungeon. Robin didn’t even look up at this point. “You look grim,” the Joker stated, pouting theatrically, even though his audience was a despairing one. He strolled over to the table where he kept all his instruments. “Which one, which one?” the Joker sang, running his fingers over the knives, corkscrews, ropes, and other devices to land on a pitcher of water. 

Jason inhaled and exhaled slowly. The Joker poured a generous amount of water into a glass before lifting it to Jason’s lips and tilting it back. “There you go…” the Joker cooed, caressing Jason’s cheek. “Drink it all up like a good little boy.”

Jason’s chapped lips searched hungrily for the water, not caring what the Joker’s motive was. He was too thirsty to wonder.

It was only the first in a long line of drugs. 

“I don’t know what to do, Talia,” a lilting, frustrated voice came from the other room, stirring Jason awake. He was sure that whenever he heard Y/n’s voice, he would snap to attention, ready to throw himself to his knees and execute whatever she commanded. 

Woah. Where did that dedication come from? 

Even when Jason assumed the title of Robin, there was never such blind complaisantness to what Batman ordered. He would always have some street-kid spunk in him.

So why was he feeling so utterly protective over Y/n? It had to be the fact that she saved him from the hellhole the Joker had carefully curated and manipulated. Didn’t it?

Or was it something else?

“No, I’ve been trying to do all my work online, and it’s been working, but I can only go so long before I have to go into the office or go to lectures.” Y/n listened to her friend for a long minute on the phone and Jason strained to hear them. “No, but I feel responsible – that’s the wrong word – but protective of him.” There was a pattering of feet as if Y/n was pacing. “This is kinda a big deal. There are movies and books written about this connection and yet, mine is huddled in my room, sleeping off drugs and the evidence of torture!” Her voice cracked up at the end and Jason physically stood up. 

Bile rose up in his throat and Jason’s knees slammed to the ground, pain shooting up his bones and reverberating in his muscles. He cursed under his breath and pressed his head to the cool hardwood, trying to overcome his nausea.

Stars swirled in his vision and laughs echoed in his head. Jason mumbled words of encouragement to himself, but they were distorted and ugly. Like the Joker. Oh, how Jason dreaded the thought of becoming him. His forearms hit the floor and instead of the Joker’s words stabbing at his brain, it was a static frame of white noise, blocking out everything. Vision was the first thing to go, eyes squeezing out the late afternoon light. The second thing to leave Jason, as everything does, was time. Was it minutes or hours he sat on the floor before the door burst open? 

Words were muted and Jason nodded when Y/n asked if she could touch him. Warm palms encased his jawline, thumbs brushing along his cheeks. “He’s not here,” Y/n whispered. “I’m here. Robi- no, tell me your name. Please.”

“Jason. My name is Jason.” Somehow, Y/n had eroded away his concern and distrust, replacing it with ease and invulnerability. He would never have thought it possible in such a short time, even without his history with the Joker. 

Y/n exhaled a small laugh and a bright smile came to her face. Jason looked up at her, brain still buzzing. “What? What’s funny about that?” he managed to get out. 

“Oh, no no no,” Y/n was quick to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to laugh. That was rude of me. I’m sorry.” One of her hands guided down to rest on his back, rubbing soft circles. In his anxious stupor, Jason curled up in front of her, instinctively resting his head on her lap. If he could see her face, he would’ve seen Y/n’s eyebrows shoot up with hopefulness. However, he definitely heard her intake of breath. “It’s a very nice name.”

“How- how does your boyfriend feel about me staying here?” Jason finally asked after a minute of him slowing his breathing. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Y/n said, sounding amused. 

“But you have a soulmate timer,” Jason pointed out. 

Y/n tilted her head, curiously. She didn’t think he had noticed that. One of her hands moved to Jason’s hair, gently brushing it back from his forehead. She ran her fingers through the white stripe which she had come to find very attractive. Tension left the boy’s shoulders and he tucked his head into her lap. “Everyone does,” Y/n replied. “It doesn’t mean I’ve found my soulmate yet.”

“Have you?”

“Yes…”

“Oh.”

Jason laid in her lap for a long minute and eventually asked her, “is he nice to you?”

Y/n laughed lightly, sighing a bit before saying, “he’s still getting to know me. He’s a very reserved and tentative person and we only met a little while ago. However, he’s been opening up pretty quickly and I’m very proud of him.” Her fingers tapped against Jason’s hair, curling the strands around her fingers before lightly scratching at his scalp with her nails. She noticed how his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when she did that. Tucking that information away for later, Y/n added, “he’s gone through a lot in the past and I just want to make him feel safe.” 

Deep in his bones, Jason could almost feel her sadness and dedication. He wasn’t sure what magic had given him the power to be so in tune with this girl, but he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from him. Not even her soulmate. 

Turning the conversation away from something that would surely wound him if he pried any deeper, Jason declared quietly, “I’m going to install some deadbolts and locks on your front door and windows soon.”

“Pardon?” 

“It’s not safe for you to help me.” It never is for anyone. I’m a poison, infecting everyone I touch. “I want to make sure you’re safe before I leave.”

“Leave?” Y/n exclaimed, staring down at him. “No, you’re not ready to go yet.” A part of her was worried she was being selfish, wanting her soulmate as close to her as possible, but one look at the bandages she had just replaced the night before said otherwise. There was less blood than there had been days prior, but Jason was not in any condition to leave bed, much less leave the apartment. 

“You can’t keep housing me forever, Y/n,” Jason muttered. “And I’ll be damned if I’m the reason you get hurt.” His head was still in her lap, but he couldn’t meet her eye. It was imperative that he play with the seams in his shirt. 

Otherwise she might see him beginning to cry.

“Please leave,” he begged, voice breaking pitifully. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to argue, gently slipping out from her place underneath Jason and resting his head softly on the ground before closing the door behind her. 

The nightmares were worse that night. ~~~~

True to his word, Jason ventured out into the apartment the next day like a zoo animal inspecting its new habitat. He crouched his shoulders, bowing his head in an attempt to diminish his size. He still wasn’t used to being so large and accidentally bumped into the kitchen counter and a lamp. 

He was able to install the majority of the new locks and deadbolts until he slid the deadbolt of the front door closed. It whined and creaked beneath his fingers and his mind flashed back to when

Jason awoke slowly. A small groan left his lips, but he stayed still. It was a tactic he learned from Bruce – never let anyone know you were awake. He could categorise helpful information for later, such as possible escape routes, and it was quite possible that he was one movement away from death. He had to be careful. 

But this wasn’t Africa. This wasn’t where Jason was desperately searching for his mother when Batman ran into the warehouse, seconds before the Joker let loose a bomb. 

That’s all Jason could remember. 

Blood was sticking his hair to his head and Jason clutched his side. It ached from bruised or broken ribs that pressed to his skin. However long he had been unconscious, it had been quite a while. His body was already malnourished and crying out for medical care. 

Jason attempted to crawl to a standing position, but when his ankles and wrists caught against metal, restraining him, he knew something else was at play. 

The whine and creak of a deadbolt unlocking caused him to turn his head towards a door he hadn’t noticed. A man in a pinstripe suit stepped through, a long crowbar in hand. Jason didn’t need the upturned red lips to know who was there. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Robby,” the Joker coaxed as Jason stared up at him, pure terror gripping his veins. He had never been so close to the Joker without Bruce. Where was Bruce? Why wasn’t he here? The Joker squatted down to Jason’s level, running a gloved hand over the boy’s bloody hair. Jason flinched away, but it didn’t deter the Joker. “You and your Uncle Ace are going to have some real fun.” 

“Where is he?” Jason sobbed, scared when he didn’t feel the blood on his hair. Why wasn’t he bleeding? What was the Joker’s new game?

“Where is who?” An unfamiliar voice asked despairingly. 

“Bru— Batman,” Jason corrected himself in his stupor. “B-Batman.”

Y/n stuttered, “I don’t know Batman. I’m sorry.”

Jason groaned in pain before a hysterical laugh bubbled from him. He clutched his stomach, on all fours, eyes wide and clouding over with green. Must he always be connected to the Joker? If he could eradicate that damn colour, he would. His fingers ghosted over the place that the Joker threatened to brand him. 

“Maybe I’ll make it permanent on our five year anniversary,” the Joker hummed, knife gently poking into Jason’s cheek. The faded scar of last month’s ‘J’ was what prompted the Joker to re-carve it into the boy. Blood dribbled down Jason’s cheek, joining his salty tears. It didn’t hurt, the wound being surface level, but just the thought of more things tied to the Joker made him gasp for air, crying softly. 

“So you’ll always be reminded of who was the one to beat you. The Clown Prince of Crime!”

Y/n had barely noticed the ‘J’ until Jason dug his nail into his cheek, tracing the scar. The path was imprinted into his memory. 

The skin turned red at the irritation and Y/n caught Jason’s wrist the next time he moved up to trace it again. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

Jason muttered things under his breath at her, but he didn’t pull away from her hold. “He branded me,” he finally spit out. “And it’s only because you found me that he didn’t carve it into my skull,” he said sarcastically, malice in his voice. His eyes blazed a fervent green and he shook his head. “But at least I knew what was coming. At least I knew that a month had passed when he redrew his initials.”

Y/n opened her mouth to argue, but Jason spoke before she could. “I… I’m worried,” he began slowly. “I’m becoming more of the Joker than I am Batman. I was supposed to look up to Batman, but what if he and the Joker are one and the same? Both hurt me. One abandoned me and the other took that for granted.”

“He didn’t mean to abandon you, I’m sure,” Y/n whispered. “No one would ever willingly abandon you.”

Jason grumbled out, groaning at her words. His lips twitched downwards and his biceps flexed. “No one? Everyone did!” he screamed out. “My parents, Batman, Alfred, Dick! Everyone abandoned me!”

Y/n ignored the last name Jason listed off, before murmuring, “I haven’t.”

“Not yet,” Jason whispered after a moment. “But you will.”

~~~~

A couple days later, Jason peeked out of Y/n’s room, one of her blankets in hand. “You deserve your room,” Jason mumbled when Y/n looked up from her book, astonished. 

“I– Jason, you need the most comfort,” Y/n said, gently closing her book. “I’m fine on the couch.”

“You need to get back to work soon,” he said, hugging the blanket close. “You said it yourself. I can’t be the reason that you’re putting your life on hold. You- you need to get back to normal.”

“You are my nor–” Y/n cut herself off before exhaling slowly. “Don’t worry about me,” she began. “I’ve slept on the couch many nights when I had papers to complete or binge-watched too many episodes of The Good Place.” 

Jason’s features softened slightly and he took a step forward. Y/n took the hint and scooted over on the couch, placing her book on the small coffee table she had. “What’re you reading?” he asked as Y/n turned on the television, opening up to the first episode of The Good Place. 

“The Great Gatsby, for one of my English classes,” Y/n said. 

“Really?” A smile slowly grew on Jason’s lips, something he hadn’t experienced in years. His muscles ached a bit from the disuse, but Jason was now addicted to the feeling. 

Y/n decided that she was now also addicted to the sight of Jason smiling. “Yeah. We’re covering the symbolism of water that spans throughout the book. In fact, in the first couple of pages, Fitzgerald references the White Star Line, which is a boat that sank on the same route as the Titanic. Gatsby, obviously, dies in the water, sinking, just as those boats did. Fitzgerald really is an excellent writer.”

Jason was pretty sure he was in love. Or maybe he still was on drugs. Whatever the feeling, it was nice and unexpected and new. 

“I do think you’ll like The Good Place,” Y/n continued. “I won’t spoil anything, but it has some pretty amazing underlying themes.”

“I’m sure,” Jason replied quietly, burrowing under the blanket. It didn’t quite manage to hide his large frame, but it managed to hide his quickening heart and blush that was slowly spreading. 

Just before the first episode started, Y/n quickly hurried to make some popcorn. She plunked the bowl in between the pair and then snatched some blanket away from Jason. “You run hot,” she explained when Jason shot her a bemused look. 

The Good Place was a wonderful show, as Jason soon learned, but what was more wonderful was when Y/n’s cheek pressed against his shoulder and her knees curled up and her eyes fluttered closed. When her breath slowed with sleep, subconsciously trusting him enough to be at her most vulnerable, that, Jason found out, was what was truly wonderful.

Bruce Wayne had never before seen a street rat more excited to see Batman, especially when that street kid was trying to steal from him. 

But what was particularly amusing was that the boy wasn’t particularly excited to see him, but more excited to show Batman his soulmate timer. 

“No! No, you don’t understand!” the boy cried ecstatically. “It just fast-forwarded! Meeting you means I get to meet my soulmate sooner!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eagerly shoving his wrist towards Batman’s cowl, showing the vigilante his timer. 

“Yes, very… exciting,” Bruce hummed out, not sure whether to laugh or reprimanded him for trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires. 

The boy laughed, a big grin covering his small features. “I wonder what they’re like. Have you met yours yet, Batman?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows and a chuckle slipped through. “Yes, I have. It’s a wonderful thing.” 

As the child kept rambling about his soulmate, Bruce knew that he had just found the next Robin. 

~~~~

Y/n sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed. She had a textbook in her lap and was mumbling out phrases for memorisation of an upcoming exam. A small smile couldn’t help but expand on Jason’s face as he listened to her mumbles. He paused from his work in the small kitchen, back muscles rippling as he reached for the marinara sauce. When he went to dump the pasta into the strainer, the pot clanged against the metal faucet. 

The Joker rattled his crowbar against Jason’s chains.

“Jay?” Y/n said softly, guiding him out of his memories before he could get too lost. “You can stop straining the pasta. All the water’s gone.” 

“What?” he choked out, turning his head so he could see her.

“The pasta.” Y/n shifted forward so her legs hung over the edge of the counter. “It’s okay. It’s been okay and it will continue to be okay. You- you can let go.” The euphemism wasn’t lost on Jason.

He let the pasta pan drop in the sink and faced Y/n, eyes shining with unshed tears. “No. That’s not what I meant.” Swallowing down the feeling, Jason continued, “what did you call me?”

“Jay,” Y/n whispered. 

The Joker paced around Jason after a few days without any torture. “It’s been too long, Robin,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it’s time to make you sing for your Uncle Jay.”

“Is that okay?” Y/n asked softly. 

Bruce shouted from the other room, “Jay! Come on! The gala’s starting soon.”

“Jason,” Y/n repeated. She reached out and touched his shoulder and the boy came to stand between her legs. Jason dropped his head on her shoulder, beginning to sob quietly. Immediately, Y/n brought her hand up to rest on his head and the other arm to curl around his back. “Don’t you dare,” she shook her head as Jason began mumbling his apologies. “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

And suddenly, everything was okay. Because Y/n was there. “Bruce called me Jay,” he murmured out. “An- and then he called himself Mr. Jay.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trigger-“

“No, it’s okay,” Jason looked at her, eyes shining with tears. “I like it when you do it. When you call me that.”

“You do?” Y/n asked, hands on either side of his face, cupping them closer and when her hands trailed to hold his neck and then one brushed back his hair oh this must be heaven, Jason thought, eyes fluttering shut. What he would give to live within her arms, always feeling safe and always feeling loved. She had that strange power over him and while Jason usually didn’t like people having power over him, he decided that when it came to Y/n, he didn’t mind. Not at all.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice lilting up with an infliction of infectious love. 

Jason stood there, comfortable in her arms and secretly hoping that Y/n would never have to go to work and would always just stay here. Where he could just keep… holding her and touching her and making sure she was safe because if Y/n wasn’t safe, Jason was pretty sure he would go on a rampage. If Y/n wasn’t safe, if Jason wasn’t holding her, then it was only because the Joker had found him and ripped him away from the only thing he had ever loved. 

And that would’ve been the cruellest method of torture. 

No amount of chains would hold him back. No amount of drugs would make him forget Y/n. And no amount of hate would make him forget the amount of love he felt when Y/n held him close and he could hear her heart beating steadily. In that moment, Jason could pretend her heart beat for him. 

He knew his heart beat for her. Then his mind flashed back to it all.

The boy’s muscles tensed, protesting against the Joker for the first time in weeks. He had been trying to keep the watch hidden for as long as possible, but he should’ve known it was futile.

Jason’s cracked lips parted and he forced a “no” from his parched throat. “Don’t.”

“Stop it.” Jason wiggled away from the Joker’s searing grip but nothing helped.

Jason let out a guttural scream as the Joker ground the glass into the dirt with his heel. 

“Oh, picky picky picky,” the Joker teased. “Sensitive, are we?”

“Lemme go! Don’t touch her! Don’t you dare!” His voice cracked and blood began to trickle down his arms as the chains rubbed against his irritated skin and broke the surface. But he would take the pain a thousand times over if it meant he could get to his watch. 

His soulmate. His love. It was all gone.

“Yes!” the Joker cried out, exclaiming loudly. His hands began to shake and a large grin spread on his maniacal face. “Yes! Emotion, Robby! This is what I want! Give me the fucking emotion! If I had known, I would’ve smashed that watch a long time ago.”

Jason lunges towards the Joker, face contorted with rage. “Don’t you fucking dare! Get- stay- no! No!” 

It was the most he had ever fought against the Joker. And the Joker adored it.

“You… you’re my…” Jason choked out, jaw tensing slightly as the dots began to connect.

He didn’t know when Y/n had begun to cry, but as tears streamed down her face and she nodded desperately, things seemed to all click into place. “It took you long enough,” she joked pathetically.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jason breathed out, his hands tightening on her thigh, a protective instinct washing over him. “Oh, no, no, no,” he shook his head and brought her head in his hands, brushing away the tears. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s not that,” Y/n’s voice cracked. “I’m not unhappy, not in the slightest—” Jason was so sure of their bond that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that she might reject him or not love him due to his past. “—but I just never thought that you would- that I would-” She hiccuped and Jason’s eyes darted across her face, wanting to somehow help, but so unsure of himself.

Slowly, Jason sank to his knees. Y/n still sat above him, on the counter, staring down, baffled. Her eyes were red from crying and her lips were parted, but she had never seemed more beautiful. “What- what are you doing?” she murmured. 

“I’m showing you how much you affect me,” he answered simply. “Quite literally, you saved my life, Y/n. And if that’s the only way you touched my life, I would consider myself the luckiest man on Earth. If no one has told you those words before, then everyone else is a fool. If you allow me to stay around and cherish the best thing that’s ever happened to me, gladly, I will.” Y/n slowly slipped off the counter, standing before him. “But that’s a lot of ‘ifs’. And I’m not willing to potentially lose you over some ‘ifs’. I know I’ve made you uncertain and I’ve wrecked your apartment and I’m so sorry,” he chuckled dryly. Jason’s hands were shaking as he slowly slid them up Y/n’s legs. She shivered under his touch, backing up until she hit the counter behind her. Jason lifted his hands from her, giving her a moment if she needed, but one look in her eyes led his hands right back to her body. “You’re like a drug,” he whispered, pressing his face to the side of her thigh. 

“Drugs are very very bad,” Y/n managed to get out. 

“I know.” A small smirk appeared on his lips. His lips suddenly looked very kissable. “The Joker taught me that. If I could go back and kill him, I’d do it in an instant, but… I’d also thank him. And I’d thank Batman. And Nightwing. And my mom. And everyone else in my life because they all led me to you.” Y/n’s knees buckled and Jason helped ease her down so she was sitting in front of him. He choked on his tears slightly before saying, “so many people believe in equality in the universe. So if all of that is true, then perhaps every bad thing that ever happened to me was just leading up to you. You… are so good that the universe needed to even it all out.”

Y/n began shaking her head vehemently. “Then let me damn the universe,” she whispered. “Because clearly, it’s been unfair. You were gifted to me, Jason. It’s not fair that you went through so much shit while I lived a fairly light life.”

“Maybe I’m not good enough…”

“Don’t you dare suggest that,” Y/n cut him off sharply. 

“Then perhaps I took the hardship you were supposed to endure,” Jason offered the explanation. Before Y/n could argue, Jason said, “and I’d do it again.”

Y/n laughed lightly, drying her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t need to,” Jason muttered, leaning forward slightly to nuzzle into Y/n’s neck. He slowly, as if testing the water, pressed a kiss to her skin. Feeling her inhale, Jason grinned and repeated the gesture, wondering if he would get the same reaction. He did. After a moment, he exhaled, his breath tickling Y/n. “I’m going to need time,” he muttered. “I’m not going to be the perfect soulmate you deserve right away.”

“I don’t expect you to be. You’re already perfect to me.”

“I’ll work on it,” Jason compromised. “I want to deserve you.”

“You do–”

“Y/n,” he pleaded desperately. “Let me do this for you. Let me be the best Jason Todd for you.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to back down, Y/n nodded after a minute. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll get through it all together.”

“Maybe we should seal the deal with a kiss.”

A bubbling laugh filled Jason’s ears and he couldn’t help the large grin that came over him. “Hmm,” Y/n conceded. “Alright.”

And so they did.

“Mom, why’re we here?” A small hand gripped onto her mother’s. 

“I signed us up for a soup kitchen,” her mom explained. “It’s coming to the holidays and we should be doing something good for others. Gotham isn’t always the nicest place to live and we’re fortunate enough that we can help when needed.”

“Hmm,” the girl conceded. “Alright.” She puzzled a bit over the thought that some people weren’t as fortunate as they were, before asking slowly, “do we need to help them any more than usual?”

“What do you mean, Y/n?” the mom asked, checking the street names as they passed. The girl frowned, her hair in small pigtails. “Well… Should we have brought clothes? Or blankets? How… How much do they need help?” She struggled to find the right words.

“No, they’re not homeless,” her mom said. “They just need a bit of help bringing food into the family, you know?”

“Okay,” Y/n accepted the answer easily. 

“Just, hold my hand, will you?” the mom said, even though her daughter was already clutching her hand. “This isn’t the safest part of town, though nothing bad will happen. The sun is out, so there’s nothing to be worried about.” 

Out of nowhere, a small boy barrelled out of an alleyway, shouting at some other boys that were running behind him. He crashed into Y/n, who’s mom scooped her up on instinct. “Oh, I’m sorry!” the boy cried out, head whipping from the two females back to the people chasing him. The boys behind him carefully came to a slow once they saw an adult with her daughter. “Uh, where are you two ladies going?” The boy asked, eyes darting back and forth between the groups. Ultimately, he decided that a stranger was more safe than those kids, simply because she was a mom.

“To the food kitchen,” Y/n supplied before her mom could shush her. 

“I can show you the way!” The boy jumped at the opportunity, beginning to walk backwards away from the group of bigger boys. Y/n’s mom looked between the malnourished boy who was silently begging with his eyes to the group who had a smearing of blood on their knuckles.

“Okay…” she decided. “Show us the way.”

The young boy jumped up and began striding away, beaming with the safety of an adult. Y/n’s mom set her down carefully, gripping her hand tighter than before. “Stay close by,” she demanded. Y/n nodded. 

The boy had dark hair that was cropped slightly at the sides with a tuft of it that fell over his eyes. His eyes were blue and he wore a red hoodie that fell just a bit too long over his jeans. “Wow,” he chirped as the trio got farther away from the alleyway. “Thanks. Let’s just say I’m not exactly on those guy’s good sides.” He kept rambling, Y/n’s mom shooting him cautious looks every once in a while, but he didn’t seem to notice. “What’s your name?” he asked Y/n, skipping over to walk by her side.

“Y/n,” the girl replied. “Y/n L/n.”

“That’s a nice name,” the boy grinned. “How old are you?”

“I’m five.”

“I’m seven!” The boy placed a haughty hand to his chest. “But my birthday’s tomorrow.”

Y/n’s mom hummed. “Oh. Are you excited to get your soulmate timer?”

“Yeah!” The boy beamed up at the woman, turning a corner. “Super excited. But this is the soup kitchen. You know, my mom should be stopping by soon. But thanks!” He began jogging off, waving goodbye. 

“Wait! What’s your name?” Y/n called after him. 

“Jason! Jason Todd.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #dc x reader #soulmate au #dcu #jason todd x y/n #we love jason todd #hurt/comfort #dc joker #talia al ghul #ra al ghul #dick grayson #reader #x female reader #torture #soulmate #soulmate timers #great gatsby #finally finished this #my child <3

[ghostsandmirrors]

Thoughts: When within a mile of your Soul Mate you start hearing their thoughts. (From Steve)

He'd been walking home after work in the chilled winds, head down and hands in his pockets, and now he was hurriedly moving through Brooklyn in an attempt at finding the stupid idiot called Steve Rogers. Things had been fine until the thoughts kicked in. He'd hoped thinking 'don't fuckin' do it' would have stopped Steve doing anything, but he had a distinct feeling that it hadn't. It never had in the past, so he wouldn't have been surprised, but that didn't stop him wishing and hoping even if it'd likely never happen.

In truth, he almost marched right past when he did finally find Steve. It took him a moment to pause and turn around.

"Again, Steven?" he asked hotly, admittedly a little too irritated by it and he knew it wasn't all him; that wasn't how this all worked. "Did you even hesitate gettin' your ass kicked? Or just run in like it was nothin'?" Maybe Bucky was determined to not give Steve peace for as long as he didn't get any. Maybe. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he knew that was what he was doing. Intentionally or not, he wasn't sure.

#ic #ask #ic!answer #heroesfromtheashes #afallencommando : bucky barnes #verse : i see myself in that other half #ooc: this gets its own verse #ooc: i hope this is ok #ooc: i went with 1930s bcus i thought it could be fun #ooc: and not angsty #ooc: since bucky muse is 'no' to angst #ooc: bastard #put it in the queue #ooc: if you want this changing lemme know

[tvrningout-a]

yells!! i'm gonna update my resume and put in some applications but i don't wanna!!

#i hate trying to sell myself as an employee bc all i can think about is the ways in which i'm not qualified :(( #like yes i do have good qualities and i can brag a bit but i'm thinking about my day-shift only availability and #my lack of experience/education the entire time #like there's a job for a librarian's assistant!!! i want it!!! but dude i have no experience with that sort of thing #i've done strictly customer service and sales stuff BUT i'm a really good student and computers aren't hard for me to figure out #BUT ALSO they prefer a 2-year degree and i'm still completing mine so i'm ;;;;;;;v;;;;;;;; #anyway sorry to vent on here!! i'm just nervous and hate the job hunting process #and while i could easily pick up a customer service job i wanna change it up if i can #or at least surround myself with things i like -- like books or skincare/makeup and whatnot #if i can't get work relevant to my future career that's okay but i at least wanna be able to enjoy talking about it you know #OKAY SORRY ASDFGH #lemme stop rambling and just do the hard thing and perhaps distract myself from nerves with a bit of writing and plotting uvu #i truly hope y'all are having a wonderful thursday <3 #if you also have to do hard things i believe in you!!! you got this!!!! #get ready to ramble | ooc

[nightsky-blue-blur]

[continuing from here]

@hxroic-wxlls

“Yeah, that was pretty cool. But check it, I can maintain the Super form for almost any length of time I want.” Super Sonic said proudly, and with a bit of smugness in his voice.

“I guess I’ve used the Emeralds so many times now I can just…stay like this forever. And it’s given me some weird side effects with how all this energy is always with me, but we can talk science later.”

A moment of silence before the golden hedgehog piped up again, looking a bit sheepish. His eyes closed, a gloved hand scratching the side of his head.

“Sorry, mini me. Guess I should have planned this whole thing out, huh?”

#[{super sonic 🌟}] #{ooc: lemme know if you want anything changed!}

[eclipsed-celestials]

@pompedia​ asked:

💤 — From HERE  — From Mei to whomever you want, she could lit fall asleep on anyone

[Falling Asleep]

He hadn’t really been thinking about it, barely paying attention, really.- That fight against LBD had taken nearly everything out of him, and he’d quietly slipped to another world to try to relax... His defenses had long-since been exhausted, mind too tired to really take note of greater changes in his environment... Which really only made this that much worse of a situation.

Under the shade of a tree, he’d suddenly felt a presence- seen a motorcycle sliding by- and then been hit in the side by something familiar. It burned with a fire he knew far too well after his recent battles, leading him to nearly spin into the shadows and disappear.

“Don’t you know it’s rude t-...” His voice fell away as he turned towards the sight. The kid who’d slammed into him as the motorcycle they’d been riding flashed out of existence... Was Mei.- Obviously not his Mei, no, his Mei (last he’d seen) had been getting ready to obliterate MK and Red Son at a few games of Monkey Warriors. This one, despite having just rushed out of what he could only assume was a high-adrenaline moment...

Was now sleeping (rather peacefully too) at his side, curled near his arm like it was some pillow.- Of course, that thought hardly lasted when the sleeping other kicked out, Macaque just barely phasing his leg out so that she wouldn’t break a bone or something.

Okay.

The kids may have grown on him, yes-- but REALLY?!

#[tell you you’re the greatest/but once you turn/they hate us: macaque] #pompedia #[a story’s tangent: asks] #[-*eyyyyyyyyyyy!*-] #[but through the cold and fear/we’ll see the dawn/we’ll fight like the devil: season three au] #[-*enjoy-- I tried to write in some chaos for fun while I was at it XD*-] #[-*sorry if I took it a bit OOC?--- lemme know if you want anything changed!*-]

[faerkiss]

BEAR HUGS FOR THE SAILOR PRINCE. // ( cont. )

GETTING USED TO HER STRENGTH. was a feet in of itself. something he still felt slightly awkward about. ERIC winced as his arms went away from around her, and instead up in DEFEAT.

". uhhh ... Ariel ?? " he started. his voice getting slightly rougher the more @seafoamseashells hugged him, ". It's just ... I can't breathe , darling ?? " HE PATTED HER BACK HOWEVER. LETTING HER KNOW HE STILL LOVED HER HE JUST WISHED HIS LUNGS WEREN'T BEING CRUSHED.

#👑:: thread. #BEAR HUGS FOR THE SAILOR PRINCE. #🐬part of your world: eric. #/ooc. #LEMME KNOW IF YOU WANT ME TO CHANGE OR ADD ANYTHING ?? #also sorry i havE TO MAKE ICONS STILL??

[cheriiyaya]

༻✧༺ What happens when you have nowhere to go, so you end up in the care of the man you promised to distance yourself from...

༻✧༺ Contents: dazai x fem!pm reader, lovers to enemies to lovers, dazai is in the ada, maybe ooc??? Ahem suggestive, petnames, no use of y/n, NOT PROOFREAD, mmh pathetic lovesick dazai, fluff at da end, ~2.1k words

༻✧༺ A/N: this was on my mind and KILLING ME so here u go :D

A knock at the door drew dazai's attention.

It wasn't a knock. More like frantic pounding against the door and with utmost certainty dazai knew that the person on the other side was most definitely panting heavily-or at least in a state of panic.

What mainly drew his attention was why. Why would someone come banging at his door in the middle of a rainstorm? why would anyone come to him for help? questions like these flew through his mind as he walked up to the door and unlocked it.

What was on the other side of the door was a sight that for the past four years, had only haunted his dreams.

You, eyes wide and lashes heavy with raindrops while your cheeks flushed from the cold rain to give a glow. You, who's drenched clothes clung to your figure, strands of hair plastered against that beautiful face that could lure him to his demise and that he would thank while you plunged a knife into his heart.

There, you stood in front of his door-something that you hadn't done in years.

There was a pause as the two of you stared at each other, rain beating down and droplets rolled over your trembling form.

"...I'm sorry, I-I didn't know where else to go..." You sucked in a breath, teeth chattering and arms crossed over your chest to conserve any amount of warmth that you could. You were freezing, and it was obvious.

And yet you were still so beautiful to him-an angel incarnate even with those blood-soaked hands of yours.

"Who are you apologizing to?' He did a once over on you before tugging your clammy figure into his dorm, shutting to door. "Yourself?" That last comment made you shoot him a glare, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Before you could say anything, dazai had grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to him. He leaned in closer, inspecting every plane of your face as if it was an artifact long lost. "You're not hurt are you?" He murmured in that same smooth voice that sent tingles up your spin.

You scoffed and pulled away. "No, why would I be?" Dazai cupped your jaw, and you swore his eyes softened a bit.

"Because your work for the Port Mafia is dangerous." He sighed and let you go. "...you should change out of those clothes. Can't have the sweet little girl get sick, now can we?" There it was-that infuriatingly teasing lilt in his voice that made you grit your teeth.

"I am not wearing your clothes." You shot back quickly. Dazai merely raised an eyebrow.

"Would you rather freeze and drag water everywhere?" He sighed. "You're always so difficult bella..." That last comment made you dig your teeth into the soft flesh of your inner cheek, deciding not to start screaming at him.

Dazai clicked his tongue and his hands gently encircled your wrists, guiding you to the small washroom in his dorm. "Wait here, lemme get you some clothes." He left and swiftly came back, a white button up in hand. He thrusted it into your hands, offering a small smile.

"You want anything?" You shook your head, mumbling a soft "thank you" before shutting the bathroom door behind you.

Once inside the small washroom you slid down against the wall, internally cursing yourself. How could you be so damn stupid?! You couldn't even tell yourself why you came here, you could've called a messenger to take you back from the mission, or called up a grunt or just done anything but gone to dazai's dorm! As you clutched your head in your hands, memories of that damned day flood back into your mind.

The day of Oda Sakunosuke's funeral.

It wasn't a big event- a few members and people that knew the man and that was it. You never met him-but you went anyways. Partially because he was an important man to dazai and you loved him and...

You thought that maybe, he'd show up.

He showed up alright.

After drying off your hair and body and changing out of your soaked clothes and into the shirt dazai had provided-which hung loosely over your figure- you exited the bathroom. You were met with the sight of dazai sitting on the dingy couch in his dorm, staring blankly at a wall.

Maybe, you thought, he was regretting this as much as you were.

With a cough, you drew his attention as you walked over to him and sat on the couch. You shifted in your seat, sitting awkwardly and the only noise breaking the uneasy silence was the patter of rain pouring outside.

"Still look just as adorable as you always did wearing my shirts...they suit you better than me." You balled up your hands, chewing the corner of your bottom lip and god, why did he still have to make you feel this way? That stupid roll your stomach did when he spoke with that soft tone, the way his honey eyes pooled warmth into the pit of your stomach when he so much as looked at you and they way he made you weak in the knees-

it was all wrong.

You felt cool fingers brush strands of hair out of your face and you jerked towards dazai, snapped out of your thoughts. You saw the flutter of a muscle in his jaw under his pale, delicate skin as he cupped your face, the smile on his face heart-wrenching.

God, he was so pretty, and you've always been weak for works of art.

Dazai's lips parted as if to speak, yet no sound came out. He simply cupped your face, as if he could see past the facade you put up and was trying to hold you together.

If he was trying to, then he'd be right. Your head spun with thoughts, emotions and memories buried deep in your heart, locked in a cage and you threw away the key.

Nimble fingers curled into your tresses, gently tugging on a few locks as half-lidded amber eyes gazed at you if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"Don't listen to him, don't don't don't-!" You repeated it in your mind, trying to bring forth cruel memories of him, how he'd brutally kill people and torture them, how he'd try and kill himself even as you begged him not to-

You suddenly wondered if he still attempted.

Just as he was about to say something, you cut him off.

"Don't try whatever your doing-it won't happen again, we won't happen again." A dry chuckled bubbled out of your throat and you stared at him, eyes wide. He merely sighed, running his calloused fingers along your jaw.

"Of course I know that, sweet girl. But can't you just pretend that we're each other's for one more night?" Dazai's fingers trailed up to press on the plush of your lips, and you swore that if you weren't sitting down your knees would've given out.

you're heart thrummed heavily in your chest and your palms heated up as dazai's eyes lingered over your face, then to your neck and clavicle-his shirt really did hang a little too low on you.

You should leave-that'd be the smart thing to do-but what use does intelligence have when it comes to resisting the temptation that was this sinfully charmful man?

And though you denied it so hard, yo you denying yourself the pleasure that was Dazai Osamu was the greatest sin of all.

That's why you were on his lap, the small space of the cramped dorm room spinning as you feverishly kissed him, hands squeezing his shoulders as his rested on your lower back. You felt the vibrations of his groan against your lips, chest heaving as cold bandaged digits slinked up your shirt and sent chills like cold water down your spine. Dazai dug his teeth harshly into your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from you. You tugged his chocolate locks in response and he let out the sweetest little whine that sent a shock of heat through your body.

Dazai then pulled away panting, eyes fixed on the way your bottom lip puffed and swelled from his bite. He swiped his thumb along you glossy lip before planting his lips on the sensitive portion of your jaw, trailing gentle yet messy kisses along it, leaving soft bites in between, and tugging your head back.

In your mind, everything was fuzzy; the only sensation you could think of was his hands on you, lips planting kisses on your skin and the soft sounds that'd escape from his lips and mumbled praises.

Until he pulled away for air and the memories of why this could never happen rushed back through your delirious brain.

Dazai Osamu did show up to Oda's funeral, though after everyone but you had left.

The two of you argued-well, more like it was you screaming at him, tears burning your eyes as they threatened to fall and Dazai standing there, staring blankly at you before he walked away.

From that day you decided it was easier to believe he never loved you.

Just as Dazai was about to kiss you again you placed a hand on his chest, halting him and a whisper slipped from your bruised lips "Don't."

Dazai paused and pulled away, gently pulling your hand away from his chest and settling it in his own. "Darling..."

"Why do you keep calling me that?! I said don't!" Your words left your mouth as a choked sob, but you couldn't care. The burning bit that opened in your heart spread through every inch of your body and it wouldn't be quelled by the lies that dripped from his beautiful mouth.

You clenched the hand that was nestled in his into fists and dazai frowned, eyebrows knitting. He gently pried your fist open, pressing kisses to your knuckles and rubbing his thumb back and forth across the delicate skin. He whispered your name like a truth, the only truth he had ever known.

"I know you did, but I can't help myself dear." He chuckled in between kisses on your knuckles, eyes shut and dark lashes kissing his cheekbones.

"Of course, 'cause you're selfish!" You spat out, and he cupped your cheek with such tenderness, opening his eyes to gaze at you like you were the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"Can't a simple man be a little selfish over a beauty like yourself?" Dazai pressed a delicate kiss to the corner of your mouth and you couldn't help the tremble that racked though your body.

"Then why did you leave?" You croaked, eyes glossy and wide.

"If I asked you to leave with me, you would've said no. You're too loyal to the Port Mafia." He hummed. "It's easy to say you would've left, but you wouldn't have."

Dazai settled his palms on your cheeks, nose bumping against yours as he kissed you softly. So softly, so different from how he kissed you with passion and hunger before.

There was another reason but he never said it; you were better off without him.

Dazai ran his fingers through your hair, shushing your little sobs as he pulled away. He pressed his lips to your hair, fingers nestled in and pulling gently on the strands. He rubbed soothing circles on your back, tilting your head to rest on his shoulder and you loathed the way your body relaxed until it fitted snugly against him as if you were made for him. He laid back on the couch, one leg wrapped over yours and you rested your head on his chest, fingers hesitantly creeping under his shirt to fan out over the layer of cotton skin that covered his warm skin. Your free and wrapped behind him and played with the fuzzy baby hairs along the base of his scalp, tugging at them gently and scratching his scalp.

You told yourself you hated this, you hated the way any bit of his love could turn you into this mess, but you didn't pull away. You instead nestled closer into him, breaths slowing. Dazai pressed his hand along the dip of your back and gently pushed you into him, causing you to whine softly into him.

"Gorgeous." He whispers into your hair, pressing his lips to your temple as you feel warm drowsiness overcome you. "Perfect. My perfect, sweet girl." You barely heard dazai's words, balling his shirt in your hands as your eyes fluttered shut.

It wouldn't be so bad to indulge yourself in his love one last time, would it?

©Cheriiyaya 2024

#☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝕽𝖊𝖉'𝖘 𝕽𝖚𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾ #A kiss for love―୨୧⋆ ˚ #bsd #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bungou sd #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x female reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #osamu dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x fem reader #bsd dazai #dazai imagines #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai bsd #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

to the moon and back ♡

in which : shoto finds out that space smells like seared steak and that footsteps on the moon last forever.

this is based on an oc so reader knows a lot of space facts lololol, fem reader, space nerd reader, shoto likes listening, shoto is hopelessly in love with reader n vice versa, mushy feelings yucky, kissing, shotos a lil awkward but he tries, shoto n reader r third years might be a lil ooc, lemme know if u missed sum else ! <3 (p.s. might change the image)

"did you know that footsteps on the moon last forever ?"

shoto todoroki is laying outside on the grass stargazing with you after curfew. usually he wouldn’t imagine doing this in his free time, but you’d flashed him your cutest, almost mischievous ‘let’s go do something bad’ grin, and he couldn’t even think about refusing.

so now he’s laying here on the grass next to you.

“oh wow, really ?”

you hum in response “ because there’s no wind or water erosion on the moon,” you explain “ so if you were to walk on it, the footprints would probably be there for millions of years.”

he nods. he likes when you go off on tangents about little space facts you know because they could be quite interesting, but also because he gets to hear you speak and he likes that. he could listen to you talking about paint drying for hours on end, but he thinks it’s even more enjoyable when you talk about something you’re passionate about.

he wishes he could sound more interested, because he really is. he wishes his voice could project like kirishima’s or bakugou’s. that he could sound as excited and cheerful as midoriya sometimes. but you don’t seem to mind. shoto doesn’t want you to feel like you’re talking to a wall so he continues.

“i didn’t know that.” yikes. not his best line, but he’s trying.

“now you do.” you respond easily. you don’t sound annoyed or offended by his lack of response, content to do most of the talking between you two.

shoto finds he can’t keep conversations flowing very well, not like you do. and when he does try to even he knows how awkward it can come across. he doesn’t force himself with you because it’s polite or the right thing to do, shoto wants to hear more facts, he likes them. and he likes you.

so it’s a little broken and choppy, talking with him alone like this, but you don’t mind and you keep talking. and shoto delights in listening to you.

“and apparently, space smells like seared steak.”

that has him raising a brow, he turns his head to you and you look back. a smile creeps onto your face and shoto could look at you like this for hours. it’s like you’re glowing, the stars could try as hard as they could, but they could never compare to you and the bright shine in your eyes.

“really ?”

“yeah.”

“how ?”

you beam, shoto knowing you’re about to go on one of your nerdy tangents, as you call them, feels himself smile back softly.

“i don’t really know,” you start “ but astronauts have reported that, apparently, space has a very distinct smell.”

“and that smell is the smell of seared steak ?” shoto asks skeptically.

“yup ! or hot metal, but i like the steak better.” you giggle. shoto smiles at you. he hopes you keep talking the whole night, even if, realistically, you’d have to leave soon if you wanted to be spared of mr aizawa’s lecture. but he’s not worried about getting in trouble right now. he’s not worried about much when he’s with you.

shoto has trouble keeping conversations flowing, but when he’s invested things come out more naturally for him. he couldn’t be more grateful when a thought pops into his mind “you sure know a lot about space.”

“s’cus i wanted to be an astronaut when i was a kid.” his eyes widen. “really ?”

“yeah, somewhere along the line i remember wanting to go to space."

“i thought you wanted to be a hero since you were a kid” he recalls you telling him that in passing one time. he never imagined being one for sentimental conversations but he seems to have a lot of thoughts when he’s with you. he doesn’t know why he does, but you manage to squeeze them out of him regardless.

“what’s wrong with having a side gig ?” you chuckle. shoto huffs out a light laugh at your joke, his eyes softening.

“what about you,” you turn onto your side to fully look at him. your eyes shine bright, they’re soft gazing at him, and shoto can’t help but want to kiss you. he does the same and lays on his side. “did you wanna be something other than a hero, shoto ?”

he likes it when you say his name, he likes hearing you. things always get a bit more personal when you talk to him like that, and he can’t help getting sucked into you like you’re a black hole (that he found out, thanks to you, aren’t really black).

he thinks about your question, staring off “i think i wanted to be a gardener..” he admits shyly, looking at you again. your face brightens like no star ever could and shoto really wants to kiss you.

“yeah ?”

“yeah, somewhere along the line.” he sighs, mimicking your words

“that’s so cute. very like you.” you chirp, he feels embarrassment creep up on him, cheeks darkening the slightest bit.

“is it ?” he mumbles. you laugh and it makes him feel a bit better.

"yeah, in a way." you beam. it makes millions of little stars spark and crackle in his stomach. like the one's in the sky and the one's in your eyes and todoroki really wants to kiss you.

" can i kiss you ?" he asks bluntly, he doesn't see the point in beating around the bush but his heart beats hard against his ribcage either way. you haven't been dating for that long, becoming official only now in your third year, but you've been friends for years now. and you know he's not one to be shy about what he wants. he knows you do when you smile harder at him with a flustered giggle, and he knows he loves you.

"sure you can." you whisper shyly. he doesn't waste any more time after that, and leans in, propping himself up on his shoulder. he likes to just look at you, placing his hand against your cheek and brushing at your skin with his index finger. his eyes peer into yours softly, while your gaze darts away from him in embarrassment.

"shoto.." you mumble. he hums.

"you're staring.." you snicker breathlessly. he hums again, not denying your words.

"i can't help it. you're mesmerizing, i can't look away even if i wanted to." you know he's not being romantic on purpose to possibly try to woo you, you've known him long enough to know that he truly means what he's saying. and that has your whole body burning like the sun.

"i didn't see myself as mesmerizing." you can just barely hear your voice above the wind. but he's so close to you he can, and you can too when he speaks "but you are."

you shake your head "think that's you, handsome." you reach a hand up to rub at his cheek, your thumb running over the bottom of his scar and his eyes close in content. handsome, he likes it when you call him that. he likes it when you call him anything as long as you do it like that. despite losing himself in the feeling of you, he manages to shake his head.

"you are." he insists and you can't argue with him further when he presses his lips to yours. urgently yet so, so softly.

it makes you dizzy, he makes you dizzy. you have to grip at the back of his shirt to support yourself. he follows you, allowing you all of him to make sure you’re comfortable as he leans you back to lay on your back to kiss you longer, deeper. he sighs against your mouth. he reaches for your hands and you give them to him. he's soft, so soft with you and on you, but his grip on your hands is firm and you realize you're not the only one getting dizzy.

"i love you." he breathes against your lips, he dives back in to place a sweet peck against them "so much." your grip on his shoulder tightens because he makes you so dizzy. he makes you feel like you're floating around in space "i love you too." you sigh shakily.

he kisses you again, it's slow and sweet and it's just like him. he pulls away with a small smile and you know you love shoto todoroki so much. it makes your heart pound and you don't know what to say. but he seems to.

"do you still want to go to space ?" he asks, chest heaving slightly.

you're shocked "..what ?"

"would you still want to go ?" he asks. you try to search around on his face to see if he was kidding, but you don't see a single sign of mischief or amusement on his features.

"i don't know if i'd have the time." you joke, a small smile breaks on his face.

"but if you did." he urges, you hum at the hypothetical, playing around with his hair while he sighs happily.

"well, if i did.." you think "then yeah i probably would. maybe leave my footprint on the moon while i'm at it." you snort.

"then i'll take you." shoto smiles. and after a beat passes you can't help but laugh incredulously.

"you're—" you interrupt yourself with a watery laugh "you're gonna take me to space ?" you ask. he grins, and you don't see it much so it makes your heart stutter and your laughter gets caught in your throat.

"mhm." he answers, eyes brighter than the stars above you "i'll take you, and then you can leave your footprint on the moon."

shoto knows he can't actually take you. realistically, it'd be impossible. but he finds he doesn't care much about realistically's when he's with you.

you know it's probably impossible for him to actually take you to space, but you'll believe in theories and you'll believe in him when he looks at you like you'd hung up the moon and the stars in the sky.

"we'll leave our footprints on the moon." you correct. your boyfriend laughs softly to himself and he nods.

"alright."

"and then we'll go back in a million years to see if they're still there, deal ?"

"alright." he laughs again at your silly arrangement, and he leans down when you pull him in closer to you "deal." and you get a last giggle in before he presses his lips to yours again.

shoto has no doubt that even in a million years, the mark you've left on his heart will never dissapear.

bleeehh i never know how to end fics !! :P

#shoto todoroki x you #not proofread but will fix later ! #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #shouto x you #shouto drabble #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #mha x reader #ive been thinkin about shosho alot lately so here you are :3 !! #take my psycho ramblings while i sprint away before runnin out of breath after 5 good seconds

[fellow-anime-weeb927]

Mashle friendship and dating scenarios (might be a bit ooc)

Friendship scenarios

Abel

He may not be showing any emotions but deep down he is actually grateful to have you by his side caring for him. He makes sure you are safe at all times by ordering his helpers to keep an eye on you if he’s busy. He might ignore you but he’ll find some free time to make it up to you.

Abyss

He was surprised when you want to befriend him AND complimenting his evil eye then that’s how your friendship began. I feel like he will smile around you more whenever he sees you. Please show him kindness and care he deserves it- He thinks he doesn’t deserve you so you better do it! He might visit your dorm just to spend time with you a while aww~

Mash

He will definitely offer you a cream puff as a gift for the start of your friendship. Congratulations! You are now one of his favourite people!! He will ask you to make cream puffs with him or maybe watch him train. You guys definitely share classes together and might witness him getting scolded by teachers while trying to hold in your laughter lol. He also asks you for help with homework-

Finn

Oh boy- he was so nervous when you approached him until you asked him to be friends. Lemme remind you: protect him at all costs and reassure him till you take your last breath or else. He’s an innocent bb and no one can change my mind. You guys study and do homework together or even hang out with Mash! He couldn’t be happier to have another friend aww~

Kaldo(manga)

Since he is a divine visionary, he’s mostly busy and couldn’t spend time with you. If you are also a divine visionary, you might see him a bit more unless you’re also busy. He could find some spare time to have tea with you if he can. It’s rare for him to accept your request to train with him though (he doesn’t want to hurt you). He would definitely give you honey or syrup for any kinds of food lol-

Domina(after the fight)

He was hesitant at first but decided to accept being your friend. You remind him of Mash thinking that he is finally being appreciated for real this time. When you help him out or give him little gifts just because you felt like it, he feels warmth and his eyes shine more than usual. He doesn’t know how to describe it but he feels happy when being friends with you.

Dating scenarios

Abel

Even though he seems to act like usual when dating but if you look close enough, he has a tiny smile and faint blush on his face. He’s more protective and will get jealous easily. Like if someone is looking at you pervertedly or with hatred, Abel will stare back at them with the deadliest glare ever. When he’s with you, he feels like he’s at home with his mother. You are precious to him so he will protect you at all costs. If you’re lucky enough, he might hold your hand in public to show everyone you’re his.

Abyss

Oh boy- he will be blushing quite a lot when he sees you. He couldn’t believe he has stolen your heart and you have stolen his. Aaaaaaa!!!! He might still feel a bit insecure but trust me- just hold his hand and give him a kiss on the cheek, he will instantly forgets about everything and focuses on you. Please give him support and affection I beg you- I feel like he would do anything just for you but sometimes you have to assure him that you can do your own thing just fine. He is definitely touch-starved bc of you and his cuddles are literal heaven omg- //////

Mash

He will definitely hug you when he feels like it. He doesn’t care if he’s chatting with his friends or you guys are alone, he will just straight up hug you to recharge lol. (Cream puffs ain’t gonna be enough when you’re his favourite cream puff- *cough*) If you need any help, he will assist you no questions asked. I think his eyes will shine a bit more than usual just being by your side. Find some time to spend with him and his dad, he will be very happy and his dad will be bawling his eyes out yet proud of Mash having a partner.

Finn

He did a double-check then realised that you are now his partner. He was internally crying happy tears, couldn’t believe you would actually accept his feelings, he was beyond cloud nine. When dating, he might feel insecure about people judging him but once you are next to him giving a little peck on his cheek, he will instantly have the brightest and most innocent smile on his face (aaaaaaa his smile would be so bright aaaaaa-) I swear- he IS and WILL BE blushing really red 24/7 no doubt.

Kaldo(manga)

My brain is running out of brain juice- I feel like when you confessed to him, he was actually surprised. The fact that you love him AND accepting his true self without any judgement, he hit the jackpot. He would be trying to find time to spend the day with you giving little pecks on the forehead. He would definitely be carrying your bags despite your protests (him being a fine gentleman ahem-) Although he’s very formal with other people but when you two are alone, he is desperate for your affection and attention. He always thinks about you when he’s on duty, he couldn’t wait to get his work done then spend the rest of the day with you //////

Domina(after the fight)

You helped him to get back on his feet with the help of Mash. He still didn’t understand why you helped him but he didn’t mind. When you confessed to him after a few months, he was flabbergasted. His face was pink, eyes widened and jaw dropped a bit. His heart beat so fast thinking if this was a dream. When you’re dating, he would be showing more emotions around you. If you look closely, his eyes are filled with adoration. Give him affection and love every day and he will be happier. Please he deserves it, he deserves to receive proper love too.

Ok- my soul has left the earth- (I added Domina bc I didn’t want him to be left out)

Hope you enjoyed!~

#mashle x reader #abel x reader #abyss x reader #mash x reader #finn x reader #kaldo x reader #domina x reader #mashle scenarios #mash burnedead x reader #abel walker x reader #abyss razor x reader #finn ames x reader #kaldo gehenna x reader #domina blowelive x reader

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Wrote a lil something awhile back with this premise (link here) but as I'm catching up with the recent updates on diasomnia chapter, I thought "why not write this with them?", thus this idea was born. Though I haven't writed for the whole diasomnia before so lemme know if you think they're too ooc!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Here in Brazil when we met someone new or just as a form of greeting, it's customary to give them a hug and a kiss, or a polite handshake. And in general we are really affectionate with our friends. So I was thinking how some of the characters would react.

Malleus is touch-starved, plus he doesn't know much about the world and the customs of humans. So when you, a little human, constantly greet him with warm hugs and ask him to lean in a little so you can kiss his forehead and cheeks? Mal-Mal here is over the moon, wanting more of that affection he doesn't get so often, he wants to hear you making that high pitched voice while you hold his face and while you pat his head and stroke his horns. By seven, you certainly don't know what fear is. And little by little he returns your affection, laughing at your surprised expression when he kisses your forehead and smiles full of mockery.

Always so mischievous Lilia tends to use his powers to levitate you next to him every time you hug him as a form of greeting, at this point this is already a little tradition of yours. He loves receiving your kisses, pink adorning his cheeks every time, but he prefers to cup your face and pepper it with slow kisses, and sometimes sway and twirl with you from side to side as if you two were dancing. Lilia loves your small gestures of affection, even if they are just deep-rooted customs from your culture, they still mean a lot to him. I also feel like he would be the type of friend to create a secret handshake, something unique just for the two of you.

Sebek feels his cheeks flush, he tries to lecture you but only low murmurs and strangled screams leave his lips with every kiss you leave on his cheek and every hug offered. He's like a child who received the gift he's been waiting for his whole life and now he's so excited that he can't express himself, although he doesn't need to shout how he feels when his eyes express to you how much each of your gestures means to him. He will deny everything and try to act like he always does, but he is much softer on you after receiving your daily kisses and hugs.

Silver smiles, imitating your greetings as a sign of respect for you and your culture. Every kiss, handshake and hug exchanged leaves him warm inside, the other students are not as warm as you and he finds this change interesting. He likes to wonder if everyone in your country is as warm and welcoming as you, and he would love to hear you talk about where you come from. He would love to ask you to hug him while he takes a nap, but the idea is embarrassing enough for him to put into words, but maybe one day it will come true.

#twst #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #silver #lilia x mc #lilia x yuu #lilia x reader #malleus x yuu #malleus x reader #malleus x mc #silver x mc #silver x yuu #silver x reader #sebek x mc #sebek x reader #sebek x yuu #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #twst silver #twst sebek #twst sebek zigvolt #lorkai drabble

[beingsuneone]

Sunset & Vine

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: one year was all you had, and the winners of the previous hunger games. You didn’t know them that well, but they were still youre only friends. Now you’re thrown back into the Games with some new confusing feelings.

FANDOM: The Hunger Games

PAIRING(S): Peeta Mallark x Victor!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Coriolanus Snow, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, President Coin, Gale Hawthorne

GENRE/AU: Dystopia, Angst, a very small amount of comfort,

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

WARNINGS: Katniss is slightly OOC, Canon divergent in some ways but not others, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS, Reader won the 74th hunger games and Peeta and Katniss won the 73rd.

A/N: Jjj, I’ve really got to stop writing stories with ending like this. Lemme know if you want part two. FYI!!! Changed a few words that completely changed the context and set up for the next part.

DEDICATIONS: Peeta my beloved

CREDITS: Taylor Swift for the name (Gorgeous - Taylor Swift)

It’s a woman, standing with her back to you— she has similar hair to yours and an almost protective stance to her. A haze of colour surrounds her… oranges, purples and yellows swirled into an indescribable but beautiful mess.

Peeta Mellark may be a fellow victor, and he may be one of your neighbours, but you know nothing about him. Except for this beautiful painting that he gifted you.

She wears a dress that flows in some sort of assumed breeze, and has a hand tentatively braced in her hair; there’s something so familiar about this scene that you can’t place— something familiar about the woman in particular.

You can’t place it.

You run your fingers along the small note that Peeta had left with the painting, hovering over the loopy cursive of his signature; it’s the same on the painting but it’s too beautiful to touch like that.

Last year, you won the seventy-fourth annual hunger games, and became a legend for getting district twelve two wins in a row— right alongside Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Who won the seventy-third hunger games.

Thank god the months of parading you around were over and you could settle happily into your gigantic house by yourself.

Well, happily might be an over statement— you had no family, and certainly no friends… unless Haymitch counts but you don’t think he does.

So this painting feels extra special— a warmth in an otherwise cold and unfamiliar home.

“Where should I put it?” Muttering to yourself, you mentally scan the layout of your house; you’d want it to be in a place where you could see it often, but also somewhere where any house guest would be able to see it… yeah. House guests.

After shaking your head uselessly, you settle on hanging it in the entryway. For sure people would see it there.

You’d been putting off doing this for a couple of days, just because you hadn’t had a whole lot of energy to do anything but sit in a chair and half-read a novel.

So, after a few minutes of fiddling and messy calculations, the painting is hung in the entryway.

You take one last glance at the swirling coloured background once more, and then turn away, leaving the comfort and fantasy behind.

……

Victors are supposed to have immunity, they’re supposed to be done with the games for the rest of their miserable, trauma ridden lives.

But the seventy-fifth hunger games brings back all of the worst parts of last year— you know that out of the three other victors, you’re the female they want to get picked. You’re the easy decision, the loner that nobody cares about.

You know the Capitol loves Peeta and Katniss far too much, and you, not enough.

This, stacked on top of everything else the Capitol has put you through… it’s too much.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door.

“Hello?” You say as you open it; Peeta Mellark is standing there with his lip turned down just slightly, his eyes center behind you for a moment before his face softens and lightens.

“Hey. You got the painting.” A smile melts onto his face, and you swear he looks… beyond words when he smiles.

After a long moment of silence, you clear your throat. “What brings you here…?” You stammer awkwardly, cringing at your choice of words.

He sort of— laughs? Chuckles? at you. “We’re talking strategy for the Quarter Quell and we figured we should include you.” His face falls again, and he looks like he’s holding something back.

Your back straightens. “The Quarter Quell isn’t for another few months—”

He nods slowly. “But we’re going to have to do the pre-tour… and they’re pulling names in just a couple weeks.”

The band around his ring finger gleams brightly in the sun, which sends some sort of jealous feeling rolling through you.

You shake your head because you don’t know Peeta Mellark, and, even if he is gorgeous, you don’t get crushes on people you don’t know.

Plus he’s in love and engaged to Katniss Everdeen, even if you did know him well enough to develop a crush.

He glances down, and then quickly yanks the ring off. “It’s, uh— just for the camera’s.” Then he gestures to the painting behind you. “That’s you, you know. I know you’ve never worn a dress like that, but I saw a screencap of you in The Games and inspiration just kind of… hit me.” he trails off at the end and fiddles with the ring in his hand.

“It’s… me?” You say slowly. “We barely know each other, why would you paint me?”

He takes a small breath. “You’re really beautiful, Y/n, I’ve always thought so.”

A breath hitches but you genuinely can’t discern if it’s him or you over the roaring of blood in your ears.

“So…” he starts again. “If you want to join us, we’re heading over to Haymitch’s now.”

“Okay.” You say, sounding more winded than you did before; you stare at him for a few more moments before you step out of the front door and shut it.

You walk silently beside him, trying not to take in his messy blonde hair or pretty blue eyes—and also, failing miserably—

Just as you reach Haymitch’s doorstep, you stop and tug on Peeta’s sleeve to get his attention. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Peeta.”

He looks down at you, the air around you charged with some kind of something that you can’t name, and just as he’s about to reach over to you, the door swings open.

“Why are you guys just standing out here?” Katniss says with her nose scrunched, she eyes you up and then eyes Peeta up in a similar fashion.

At least it wasn’t exclusively you.

Both your heads snap toward her, while Peeta smoothly comes up with a reason. “Y/n was feeling nervous, I was just trying to help calm her nerves.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow from behind Katniss, and gives Peeta a look.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, as Katniss steps aside and lets the two of you in. There’s a tenderness to his voice that you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

“Hi.” The three of you shuffle into what you think was once a living room but it’s chillingly messy in Haymitch’s house.

“Couldn’t we have done this at someone else’s house?” Peeta says, eying the empty bottles on the floor.

“No.” Katniss shakes her head, shooting Haymitch a glare. “Because everytime we have to talk to him, we have to wake him up with a bucket of water.”

You snort. “I’m sorry— a bucket of water?”

Haymitch cuts in. “Why do you think my hair’s wet? I definitely didn’t take a shower.” There's a water stain that makes his shirt sag, and you wonder how you didn’t notice before. Haymitch clears his throat. “Moving on; if it’s Katniss and Peeta then we can still milk the whole star-crossed lover thing— if it’s me or Y/n… that won’t work.”

“Y/n shouldn’t go.” Peeta interjects; you’re taken aback by it.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I really thought I was the best person to go.” You pause, looking up at the three of them. “It’s not like there’s anyone here that will care if I don’t come home.”

Haymitch gives Peeta a scrutinizing look. “Look, Lover-boy, we know you have a crush but that isn’t enough for Katniss to volunteer herself if Y/n gets picked.”

Peeta looks to you and then back to Haymitch. “Katniss and I are the Capitol’s favourite couple right now, if we went we’d probably be much better off in terms of sponsors and parachutes.”

“And you don’t want her to go.” Haymitch gestures in yours and Katniss’s direction.

Peeta sighs but doesn’t deny it. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want his fiancé to go back to the Games.

“Peeta is right,” Katniss starts, “but, Haymitch, if you get picked… Peeta should stay. Either way.”

Peeta shakes his head. “No. I’m not staying.”

You cut in. “There’s no good reason why I should stay.” You’re basically the only clear answer; if you get picked you’ll go, and, if Katniss is picked, you’ll go. “I won’t.”

Now all three of them are staring at you. “If I get picked, Katniss can’t volunteer and if she gets picked, you can’t stop me from volunteering.”

Katniss huffs. “You can’t stop me from volunteering either.”

Really, you could all argue this for hours.

…..

The four of you had never come to a conclusion, and now it’s the day of the Reaping.

Effie stands uncomfortably at the bowl; she doesn’t seem happy about having to pull your names, despite her chipper facade.

“The female tribute for District Twelve is…” she says, digging around in the two slips of paper in the bowl. She finally pulls one out and reluctantly reads it out. “Y/n L/n.” She almost sighs your name.

Katniss’s fingers twitch nervously, like she wants to say something but you shoot her the strongest glare you can muster.

She doesn’t volunteer, and you’re glad for it.

You walk up to the stage, head held high; you know this is the start of the end of your life, so you might as well act more confident than you truly are.

Effie looks at you sadly once you’re settled behind her, and then turns back to the audience. “And… the male tribute for District Twelve is,” she spends another five minutes routing through the two names. “Haymitch Abernathy.” This time her sigh is one of relief.

But the relief does not last long.

“I volunteer!” Peeta says, stepping forward; Haymitch grabs his arm and says something too quiet to hear, and Peeta says something back. His face is full of determination as everyone watches him walk up the stage and stand next to you.

Everyone in your little group wears a look of defeat. Even you.

Only one of you can go home, and you’re going to do your damn best to make sure it’s Peeta Mellark.

…..

“I’m not ready for this.” You say quietly, as you walk down the corridor to your bedrooms on the train. “It’s hardly been a year, Peeta.”

He nods solemnly, not looking at you as you arrive at your door. His is just across the hall.

Peeta gently takes your hand in his and squeezes. “I know. It’s too soon.” He looks angry. “We were never supposed to have to do this again.” He drops your hand before you can reciprocate in any sort of way.

You do feel a little less nauseous though.

“It‘s okay.” You whisper, twitching your fingers and slapping it onto the doorknob. “It’ll be okay.”

Peeta’s eyes rove over you in a scrutinizing manner as though he’s trying to figure some meaning behind your words, but there isn’t one to figure.

Just that it will be okay. Peeta will, if you really just be specific. Peeta will return home, happy and safe.

Ready to live his life with the woman he loves… Katniss.

And you will fade into false glory and distant memory.

…..

“Finnick, Right?” You fidget with your fingers in front of you; Finnick Odair was an attractive man who oozed with confidence and smooth words.

“Want a sugar cube?” He asks slyly, holding one out to you. “They're supposed to be for the horses but— we’re going to die anyway, it won’t matter after that.”

You nod carefully. “Of course, because that would obviously matter if we weren’t already set for death.” You still take the sugar cube from his hand and pop it in your mouth.

You almost gag from it. Pure sugar was… a lot. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

Finnick chuckles. “But liberating.”

You shake your head but a smile still spreads across your face. “Liberating indeed, Finnick Odair. My last act of rebellion is eating a sugar cube.”

“Devastating, really. To the Capitol, I mean.” He smiles easily at you, before someone catches his attention and he saunters off.

Claudius Templesmith stood not far from you, crooning about something with one of the older tributes.

The older man— Betee, you think— stood, looking indifferent but also invested in Claudius’s ramblings and unnecessary questions.

You were dreading the questions he’d ask you during your second round of interviews.

The last time was time enough for you.

“What’d he want?” Peeta asks, walking up behind you and pulling your attention away from the other party-goers.

“Oh, you know,” you say flippantly, “sugarcubes, secrets, and sarcasm.”

Peeta’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the smile remains on his face. “Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He extends his arm to you. “Shall we?”

You sigh. “Not like we have much choice.”

….

“I’d give anything to know what’s going on inside your head.” Peeta says softly, fidgeting with the rope in his hands. You’d both decided that learning how to tie some knots would be beneficial.

You chuff, an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”

His fingers work steadily, and somewhat clumsily, with the rope; there’s something alluring about how sure he can be with his hands.

It makes you think of the painting in your house— the one that you’ll never see again— how patient he must’ve been to complete such a beautiful piece, how still and sure of himself.

“What are you thinking right now, Y/n?” He looks up at you, with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

You shrug. “I was thinking about…” you trail off, because you absolutely cannot say that you were thinking about his hands. A half-truth will have to do. “Your painting. How I’ll never see it again.”

Hip lips pull into a frown. “You’ll see it again, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Sighing deeply, you stand. “You’re the one who has to go home, Peeta, not me.” He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It has to be you.”

….

You don’t have the time to argue about it for the next couple of days, you hardly even see each other.

Now, Cinna is preparing you for the arena. You know that everything he gave was meant for Katniss, he had obviously expected it to be her, or that he wouldn’t style you.

He hadn’t been your stylist, but yours had opted out of this year’s games, claiming it was too painful to watch you go back in.

You hadn’t liked her much the first time around, wanted to change you too much in ways that you most definitely did not like.

Cinna, though, you liked him. Though this would be the last time you saw him.

You were dressed in whatever mandatory suit that they designed for this game, a skin tight suit that looked like you were about to go scuba diving.

“It’s time.” Cinna says, glancing back to the tube at the back of the room. You turn back to it.

“Thank you, Cinna.” You say, bowing your head for him. “It was nice getting to know you.”

He smiles half-heartedly. “It was a pleasure, Y/n.”

You exchange a final goodbye and step into the tube. The sixth second countdown begins as the tube starts to ascend.

It's all water, just water and water and water in a large circle around them. There was also thin sand bars that connected the tubes and the Cornucopia, but you knew you wouldn’t be braving that.

Peeta stands three tubes down, with a morphling, a Career and Johanna between you two.

Twenty seconds.

You stare at him desperately, hoping he’ll stick to the plan and swim towards you; you catch his eyes and he smiles reassuringly. It’s not a genuine smile but it still calms you all the same.

Ten seconds.

You ball your fists, clenching hard.

Nine.

Eight.

God, it’s going to be difficult to get out of the water.

Seven.

Six.

You’re not the strongest swimmer, maybe you should go to the Cornucopia.

Five.

Four.

And it’s a long way to swim, even for someone who does know how. Only experienced swimmers, like Finnick, would have an easy time of it.

Three.

Two.

Then, it occurs to you, maybe those sandbars go all the way to the shore; if you get to the Cornucopia, Grab, well, anything, and then flee via the sandbars, you just might be okay.

One.

The pads everyone stands on recede into the water and dumps everyone straight in.

It makes you realize that most of your competitors do not know how to swim.

Peeta is just barely floating thanks to the bright purple belt that had been strapped around all your waists.

You know how to swim at least a little bit , so you unbuckle yours and swim over to him; once it inflates fully, you give it to him and try to drag him towards the sandbars.

It dawns on you all over again that Peeta is a tall guy, and he’s not exactly small either.

He’s strong and his weight definitely shows that; he tries to keep himself afloat but ends up making it worse.

Eventually, you make it over there, and he pulls himself up onto the loose sand; it takes a bit of effort because it’s slippery and keeps moving under your weight.

It’s barely stable enough to be a viable option. Just barely.

You leave him there for a minute and swim to the cornucopia. There's fighting going on on its small platform, but you just snag a small waterproof bag that sits a few yards away; a knife comes flying in your direction, and knicks your face.

The salt of the water stings as it mingles with blood.

When you spin back towards Peeta, he’s struggling and Finnick is approaching him.

You race back as fast as you can.

Finnick already has some pretty gnarly weapons strapped to him.

You’re about to draw the knife on him when shakes his head. “Relax, Y/n, I’m saving his ass.” Then he lifts a hand out of the water and flashes some sort of bracelet at you.

It’s the alliance bracelets that Haymitch had mentioned.

Oh.

“I-”you start, but you never really had a sentence to begin with.

You just lag silently behind as Finnick helps Peeta to the shore. The closer you get to the shore, the wider the sandbars get, and the sturdier they are as well.

Until they're eventually higher than the water, and wide enough for both Peeta and yourself to walk side by side.

You collapse onto the sand when you finally reach the shore and stay there for only a second.

That’s all you have before the three of you are up and running into the forest in front of you.

….

When Peeta’s heart stops, you're sure that yours does too— you’re sure that, as you stand there in a state while Finnick tries to resuscitate Peeta, you’re also unresponsive and silent. Dead.

True enough, in a way.

The longer you stare at Peeta’s face, still twisted in pain from the shock, the more you feel like dropping to the ground and sobbing.

You tried to imagine the way he painted with camouflage training stuff, drawing intricate designs onto both his and one of the morhpling’s arms.

It had washed off by the next morning but you had spent the whole night longing to touch it, run your fingers along his arm, trace the shapes and swirls.

Beyond the paintings, you recalled his magnetic smile and the way he always made you feel safe and calm, the steady air that he radiated.

You weren’t ready for him to die, he was the one who was supposed to win this, after all. You had resolved that Peeta Mellark was going to be the winner of the 75th Hunger Games and you were going to do whatever you needed to to make that happen. You were even prepared to turn into somebody you weren’t, just to make sure Peeta went home. Or at least, you thought you could if you had to come to it.

But now, you’re ready to give up. Finnick or Johanna could win— and they should. Literally anyone else but you. Everyone who had a life now that Peeta is gone.

You’re just about to collapse to the ground when Peeta starts to cough erratically, and he manages to sit straight up.

“Peeta!” You cry as you fall to the ground next to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He seems disoriented for a moment before he hugs you back, right. “I really thought you were gone.”

He gently strokes your back, as you fuss over him, double checking that he’s okay and checking his burn.

…..

You hear a loud sickening crack from somewhere else in the arena that makes everyone but Johanna and Finnick jump. You feel Peeta’s hand wrap around you protectively and pull you closer to him in the single instant that you’re all reacting to the noise.

It takes a few delayed seconds before each one of you realizes that it’s just the lightning in 12, before you realize just how having Peeta’s hands on you makes you feel.

His fingers slip from your waist, brushing softly as they fall away and leaving you feeling just slightly feral.

You pull yourself away, and dig your nails into your thigh to ground yourself. Getting used to this clock thing was going to be agonizing.

You’re waiting patiently as the lot of you— You, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna and Beetee— come up with a plan to take down the force field and take out the Careers at the same time.

You can barely focus on the conversation because you itch to have Peeta’s hands on you again, to feel his fingers against your skin again.

In fact there’s so many things you’d like to say and do with Peeta that you know you will never have the chance to; not to mention that he is in love with someone else and would never be interested in any of those things with you anyways.

You’re pretty sure you’d been staring at Peeta but you only notice because Finnick shoots a look at you— you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but it must be something about that.

You try to zone back into the plan.

….

Trying to trap the careers failed miserably, and the person most experienced with a bow was you, but only thanks to Katniss’s training.

Everything was a blur as the force field came down; chaos, fire everywhere— you couldn’t see or hear Peeta.

You worried about him and you laid pathetically on the ground, half out of your mind. You wondered if he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg, or having run from Enobaria or one of the other careers. You wondered if he’d make it out okay, even though it was obvious you wouldn’t.

You wondered and worried for what felt like forever until an airship appeared above you.

Great. You thought, the Capitol has come to torture you and everyone you’ve ever loved until the couldnt anymore and all of you was nothing more than a shell of a person. Until the only option was avox or death.

You can’t move, or fight it as the giant claw, scoops you up.

All that effort and you still managed to condem each and everyone of you to torture.

…..

“Relax, Y/n!” Haymitch snaps, as Finnick restrains you.

Katniss sits on the other side of the table, looking just as devastated as you.

“What do you mean, you didn’t get Peeta? You can’t just leave him there, they’ll hurt him worse than any of us could ever imagine!” You say, still struggling to get away from Finnick.

Katniss actually argues in your favour. “I did say I would only do this thing if you got both her and Peeta.”

Plutarch, the game maker shakes his head redundantly. “Peeta and Johanna were just to far away for us to locate before the Capitols airships came; I’m sorry, we’ll get them back eventually.”

Finnick finally lets you go once you’ve calmed down. He has a solemn look on his face. “I’m sure they’ve got Annie too. We need to save them as soon as possible.”

….

As soon as possible turns into several weeks, several heartbreakingly, agonizingly long weeks.

You can’t help but think about Peeta every moment of every day . You imagine all the terrible things Snow is doing to him, you wish it was you in his place.

Peeta was the one person who never deserved any of this, over anyone else. You and Katniss had been willing to do whatever you needed to to survive, you’d done things maybe you weren’t particularly proud of. But Peeta? He had never let the Games change him.

He had always been the same.

Safe, steady, comfortable, strong.

You don’t even have any hope that they’re showing him any mercy.

They aren’t.

You know now, you know by the way that last interview they aired went— how he was struck just as the cameras shut off, how your heart broke when you looked into his eyes, when you saw just how much they’d hurt him already.

You were just about ready to burst into Coin’s office and tell her that you were getting Peeta now, regardless of the consequences to Thirteen.

Gale and Katniss were fighting a lot lately, tension was heavy between them; and not in a good way. You didn’t know Gale well, but the comments he made about Peeta made your skin crawl and your hands itch to throw a few punches.

Actually they were arguing now, about Peeta, and you were listening.

Gale’s head snaps to you randomly and he barks at you; “and you! Why the hell are you so invested in Bread Boy?”

You startle for a moment, but then narrow your eyes. “What do you mean why am I invested? He’s my— friend.” You say, sounding unsure even to yourself.

Katniss huffs. “I mean, come on, Gale, you know that our relationship has been fake from the start and we—” she gestures between the two of them. “—we’re friends, Gale, we always have been.”

He scoffs, and says something else in a bitter tone but all you can hear is Katniss’s words replaying over and over in your brain.

Our relationship has been fake from the start.

“Shut up for a second!” You snap at Gale, and turn back to Katniss. “Your relationship was fake the whole time? Yours and Peeta’?” You almost feel like an asshole for asking, just in case it is real; but so many things Peeta has done and said make so much more sense recontextualized like this.

Like when he said their rings were ‘just for ten cameras.’ Or when he told you he always thought you were beautiful. Or even the way he tried so hard to convince not to go back into the games.

Both of their faces fall flat, Katniss’s in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” She says.

You shake your head slowly. “No, I-” you stop yourself because you're at a loss for words.

“Y/n, we didn’t try to hide it from you, how did you not know? Even Haymitch said right in front of you that Peeta had a crush on you!”

You deadpan once again. You had blatantly misread everybody’s words in that conversation. “I just assumed that was about you!” You stare at each other for a second longer before you stand up abruptly. “I have to go.”

There was a lot of thinking you had to do and then a lot of planning— and a bit of yelling too.

…..

You were deemed too invested in the mission to actually go on it, and Finnick was too distressed over Annie to be allowed.

So you had been sitting together in silence; the silence was comfortable but the insane amounts of stress running through your veins was enough to make the tension in the air as sharp as a knife. Not between each other but to any other person.

Especially since Gale was allowed to go on the mission, and you felt that was entirely unfair— Gale doesn’t even like Peeta.

It had turned into a whole day of waiting, and only twenty minutes ago, they had returned with Johanna, Peeta and Annie.

The anxiety had grown tenfold when you were both informed you weren’t allowed to see them yet.

Now, you’re standing outside the door where Annie was resting, watching her through the one way window.

Finnick’s eyes are filled with so many you can only pick out one or two; you wonder if your eyes will look similar when you enter Peeta’s room.

You wish him luck and watch as he enters the room; Annie looks like she screams his name and then jumps him. He holds her up, looking like it’s the happiest moment of his life.

Watching them makes you much more excited to see Peeta, although you're not sure it will be quite that exuberant of a reunion.

You walk a couple doors down, glancing in the windows as you do; but you stop when you see Katniss and Johanna in one of the rooms before Peeta’s.

Why in the world is Katniss in the Hospital? What happened?

You push open the door gently, and Katniss doesn’t stir— you take note of the morphling drip in her arm, that must be keeping her knocked out.

You see Johanna is also asleep, her head is shaved and she has the worst tortured expression on, even though she looks to be sleeping soundfully— physically, anyways.

If she’s looking that bad, you can’t help but wonder about Peeta. You’re always wondering about him.

You don’t want to disturb either of their healing so you quickly leave the room, shutting the door as quietly and calmly as you can.

Finally, as you walk out, you spot the guards in front of Peeta’s door; you think it’s a little strange, considering neither Johanna nor Annie had security at the door but you walk towards the door anyways.

The guards hold out a hand as you approach.

“Restricted access, you can’t go in there.” The guard says, almost heartlessly.

Just as he finishes speaking, the door opens and Haymitch steps out and away. You would look through the window but the blinds are down.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, you can’t see him.” Haymitch takes your arm and leads you back down the hallway. “The Capitol… they tortured him so bad he—” Haymitch stops, and looks away for a second before looking back. “He tried to strangle Katniss, and kept yelling about how Katniss was a liar. He’s not himself right now.”

So much for your heartfelt reunion.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

#peeta mellark #the hunger games peeta #thg peeta #peeta x reader #peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #thg x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #spoilers #mockingjay spoilers #catching fire spoilers #thg spoilers #the hunger games spoilers

[star2fishmeg]

Do you take requests ? If yes, can i request smth Yuken x reader ? Just something to warm up my heart kckdkf thank you <33

ᴘᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴍ

Pairing: Odajima Yuken x afab!reader

Summary: y/n visits Housen with a compelling offer for her bf, Yuken, and to him, an open bedroom window is an invitation to accept that offer

Warnings: 18+ smut, ooc Yuken probs, Yuken’s glasses are prescription (personal hc), reader implied to be shorter, making out, cunnilingus, pet names (princess, doll, dollface, cumslut), reader is a cumslut, tit sucking and fucking, swearing, reading is on birth control, lemme know if I missed any!

Authors note: this is so self-indulgent fr bc I love Yuken sm. This is my first time writing Yuken so be nice pretty pls xx ignore the fact this has been in my inbox for over a year, I’m so sorry and thank you for the patience <3

Request: above!

She leant against the doorframe, watching Yuken and Monji spar like they did most days for some reason. These high school gangs rocked up to battle all rough and tough, but behind the scenes they were just a group of idiots with empty heads most the time. Upon noticing her figure, Yuken freed Monji, stood up and made his way over, lips tugged into a smirk with sweat glistening on his skin.

“If you wanted to wrestle naked,” she muttered, voice vibrating through his ears in a sweet but arousing sensation. Her finger poked the valley between his pecs, doe eyes boring up into his. His chest heaved, heart pounding from the exercise but also from the proximity of his body and hers. She gently trailed her fingertip down his abs with feathery touches, his skin feeling as if it were being lit like a fire, and hooked it in the waistband of his trousers, harshly tugging him closer into her, chests millimetres away. His eyes flicked from hers to her lips as they ghosted each other, he wasn’t sure if the heat in his cheeks was from the beguiling look in her eyes and the sultry tone of her voice or from his long-forgotten activity before she arrived, “You could’ve asked me first.” Y/n gave a teasing smile before letting his waistband go, spinning on her heal and walking back through the hallway, swaying her hips as she left.

__

Slamming the bedroom door shut, not intentionally but after a long day of school and the stuffy train from Housen, not a care could be given. Her parents weren’t home anyway, who would be bothered by the noise? Y/n threw her bag onto floor, at the bottom of her desk as usual, in its spot that had been given since elementary. It’s funny how you claim a spot as a kid and stick with it until adulthood, even now at eighteen, she still followed the same routine of dumping her bag, followed by flopping onto her sheets to be pleasantly engulfed by the cool temperature and then groan all the frustrations of the day out. Obviously then followed by the dose of social media, who doesn’t do that? And anyone who doesn’t do that after 6 hours of mind-numbing education is a liar. Usually.

A heavy exhale followed by sluggishly heaving herself from the bed, she drew the curtains and stripped down from the stiff fabrics of her uniform. How could anyone keep it on longer than they had to, too hot, too cold, it was never just right. She rummaged through her drawers for anything comfier, even if her underwear was unconventionally comfy at least a t-shirt would be safer.

“You shouldn’t leave your window open when you change, doll.” Y/n dropped her head, giggling at his voice, words spilling from his lips like honey, just as she liked it.

Making her way over slowly, she pulled the curtain aside ever so slightly to see Yuken grinning at her, leaning against the windowsill, standing comfortably on the utility room roof. Unlike before, his hair was kept loose with his sunglasses tucked between the top button of his shirt, lenses cracked. It was the perfect way to enter her bedroom window and sneak out, not that either of them was aware that y/n’s parents knew when Yuken was over; the change in bin placement gave it away. All he had to do was hope the back gate was unlocked, climb the bins, and hoist himself onto the overhang and bob’s-your-uncle, he could climb through, the roof was flat anyway.

“Why? So, pervs like you can’t watch me?” she grinned back, “How much did you see? Not that you can see much without those glasses.” She flicked the accessory around his neck in amusement.

Adjusting himself and stepping into the room, swinging one leg over at a time, he stood over her frame, tucking her hair behind her ears, “The moment the bottoms hit the floor and I got the perfect view of your cute arse.” His palms slid down the curve of her waist over her backside, sliding under the panties to cup the globes of flesh.

He closed in for a tender kiss to her lips. A saccharine kiss, slow and steady, smaller hands reaching to his face and settling on his nape, keeping him as if were to dissolve while his roamed her hips and waist. “Mm,” she moaned, pulling back for a breath, “My personal Peeping Tom. I don’t mind if it's you.” She dove back into his lips, faster and deeper, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip to greet hers in a dance of their own. Fingers slid to the collar of his blazer, gliding it off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor before starting to remove the glasses and unbutton his shirt, pulling the buttons one by one with a lingering touch against his skin. Yuken pressed his forehead against her head, watching her toy with his shirt, his skin tingling and becoming impatient and fidgety. But he kept his breathing heavy, lips creeping into a smirk as she reached the final button, and her hands once again found comfort on his chest, tracing the outlines of his abs.

“Yanno, I actually came to take up that request,” he murmured, her eyes peering up at him with a devilish teasing. God, she looked good from above, his cock twitched just at the thought of cumming on her tits, “Wrestling with you sounds so much better. Want those legs wrapped around me so bad. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it.” With his shirt falling to the floor with the blazer, she looped her fingers around his belt loops and shoved her pelvis against his, his warm palms grabbing the back of her neck with a dizzying desperation as teeth chattered in a sloppy kiss. Not that either of them cared though, when did kissing in a clean way matter when it came to lust?

Stumbling, the back of Yuken’s legs knocked against the bed, sending them tumbling into the sheets and tongues skating and sucking each other with saliva drooling from lips. He gripped her hips, pulling at panties and gliding his hands up the curve of her back and waist.

He pulled away, y/n panting and tucking strands of hair behind her ears, “How much time we got, dollface?” His voice low and vibrated through his chest. She brought her knees up to straddle his lap, palms roaming his naked torso as his eyes raked her figure, smirking as he visualised sliding his dick through her cleavage.

“Two hours.” She panted, chest rising and falling. She cocked a smirk at his wandering gaze, unhooking the clasp and throwing her bra somewhere across the room, “You have two hours.” And with that he flipped her over, letting his knees hit the carpet and placing her legs over his shoulder, nipping, and kissing her inner thighs as her face inflamed. Yuken slipped his fingers around the hem of her panties, sliding them down her legs and discarding them with the other garments. He took the opportunity to knead the flesh on her thighs, nose brushing against her clit as he kitten licked the arousal, y/n’s mouth dropping and let a whine slip past her lips at her pulsing cunt. She carded her nails through his hair, giving the roots a tug before his licks became relentless and languid, every contact of his muscle jolted her nerves.

He looked so pretty from her view, blond locks buried between her thighs, squeezing when he swirled and nipped her clit. “Fuck! More!”. The simple instructions had his palm pressed flat on her stomach, tongue lapping deeper into her folds and a finger entering and pumping with every moan that left her lips.

“Doin’ so well, Princess.” He mumbled against her clit. Y/n threw her head back into the sheets as he dove back in, thumb rubbing her nub and a second finger entering and thrusting. His tongue lapped again, devouring like a starved man, and humming as if he were pleased with his meal.

Guttural moans filled the room, his rhythmic curling and pumping of his fingers clouding her head with a burst of overwhelming pleasure knowing he was far from done. He pried her legs open more with his free hand, taking a short moment admire the melodies filling his ears, hot breath fanning over the vulnerable folds in which still had his digits abusing them.

Through the unintelligible noises, blank mind, and tight knot in her stomach devastatingly constricting, she managed to cry out, sweat beads glistening across her temples, “Let me cum, please!”

“Let me taste you, doll.” And with that being enough permission needed, her thighs locked around his head, Yuken’s hands securing them. His favourite place to suffocate, he got a pillow and a meal in one, how could he ever be so ungrateful when he had that in his fingertips. Unsure if she could hold out any longer, her back arched up and propped herself up on her elbows and jesus fucking christ did she regret that: watching his head bob with every long drag of his tongue just about withered her limbs back against the mattress as she released for him to slurp and devour every drop, pulling his fingers out and letting the cum paint her skin as he pulled her legs apart to clean the plate completely. Y/n’s body went limp, chest heaving and sweat dripping down her skin. With the clink of a belt buckle fumbling, she let out a weak giggle, slightly propping herself onto her elbows.

"God, you're so beautiful," the rest of his clothes pooling at his ankles and being kicked across the room. Y/n positioned herself against the pillows, Yuken straddling her waist, "Don't be shy now, I know you have a good pair of lungs in you." He smirked. Gently placing a palm on her jaw, and drew his face towards hers, noses ghosting,

“Yu’, don’t be too rough, there can’t be any marks.” He connected their lips again, groans and hums seeping from throats while tongues stirred a concoction of saliva and a different found source of edging pleasure every time his dick brushed against her slit. Yuken’s other hand groped her breast, rolling the pebbled nipple between his thumb and pointer finger while whines filled the void of the room. They pulled away for a breath, saliva still holding on by a string until he took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue giving it a swipe to have her grip his hair. Every swipe and nip were intentional, just to bring out her mewls that differed in pitch and length before moving to the other, just to suck and grope to send just as many pulses through her nerves. The way his throaty groans alone were enough to send her over the edge was something she only ever thought could happen in her class daydreams, but the more he toyed and kissed her chest, the more she felt herself become wet all over again. He released her tit with a breathy chuckle, giving the flesh a final peck before leaving a trail of butterfly kisses up the column of her neck to her temple.

With a long, warm kiss to her neck, Yuken lined himself up to be swallowed by her walls, y/n’s jaw dropping to release a sigh of relief, head sinking back into the pillows as he bottomed out. His fingers took home on her hips, almost leaving bruises with encouragement of how she squeezed his cock so blissfully.

“Yuken, please fuck me already!” She wrapped her arms around his neck while he began to roll his hips into her, legs locking around his hips. That gesture, locking around him had some sort of carnal affect that made his thoughts wild; she wanted him, just him to be that close in owning every inch of her pussy. He didn’t think he could become any harder than he initially was until he laid eyes upon her expression, how her head was thrown back and her mouth so lax that every moan and whine that that matched his thrusts was impossible to muffle, even with his tongue down her throat. The way her tits bounced as his pace quickened, he couldn’t feel an ounce of remorse when her nails tore into his back the way they were.

“Sh-shit-feels so good!” she hissed, smashing her lips to his into a sloppy but brief kiss, “Faster,” Yuken pulled one of her legs from his hip over his shoulder, hitting a new spot with a whole other ascending feeling that sent her to heaven and back, “Right there!”

Sitting back onto his knees, he watched her arms drop from his shoulders and grab the sheets, twisting them in various ways, his hands still gripping her hips ravenously as he watched himself slip from inside her before grinning and slamming his cock back into her cunt like his mind was in nothing but carnal heat. He kept pushing y/n’s leg towards her, knee mere inches away from her face and he kept his rhythm and threw his head back groaning at the slapping of his skin against hers. If anyone were to return home, if the bins hadn’t given it away, the song their bodies sang surely would’ve.

“Yuken!” She wailed, back arching off the bed, feeling his cock split her into two.

“That’s it doll, who’s fucking you?” Each penetrating sending her closer to heaven, words became incoherent and a struggle to get out as her body slacked. The pit in her stomach warmed again, knotting and painfully desperate for release.

“Let me cum, I..I’m gonna cum!” Yuken, who was a little further from release, just groaned,

“Cum on my cock, doll. Do it.” She mewled, her body shuddering with her orgasm and a multitude of feelings surging straight to her head. Her boyfriend’s pounding didn’t stop, his hips continued to snap into her pelvis, balls slapping as his eyes watched her cum lube up his cock.

“Yuken?” Y/n panted, eyes half-lidded and her hands pushing her pretty tits together, “Fuck my tits. I know you want to.”

“My favourite cumslut,” He chortled, pulling himself out of her seeping hole and slipping his cock between her tits, “That’s it, doin’ s’well.” His hands placed themselves over hers, his thrusting losing its rhythm and becoming vigorous as he finally felt himself close. His body elated, his week would be made complete just by seeing her painted by him and she’d thrive off it. He could sleep well knowing he’d be leaving his mark on his girl, his love.

“I’m close, baby.” He panted.

“Cum on me, claim me, please!” Y/n sighed, giving a tired smile. No more than a few ruts later, thick, white ropes spilled over her tits. Both their hands releasing her chest, letting Yuken’s dick paint her.

Almost rolling off her body, Yuken flopped next to her, pulling y/n into his sweaty chest, and placing a short peck to her head, “We should wrestle more.”

2023 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy any of my works. If you notice that any of these have been done to my work, please let me know.

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, just lemme know :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @rainisawriter

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

#high&low #high&low x reader #high&low the worst #highandlow #high and low #high&low the worst x cross #odajima yuken #odajima yuken x reader #yuken odajima #yuken odajima x reader #high&low the worst x reader #high&low the worst x cross x reader

[lu-lus-duckies]

Idk what to call this so you make up the title

@huskers-bar x @nunalastor

Tags: enemies to lovers, angst?, eventual fluff, yearning?, soft huskers-bar, both mods are separate people, no beta we die like i do in this fic (not yet though), minor character death, ooc, au: hellaverse (hazbin hotel), nunalastor is head of the marketing department of the hazbin hotel (lucifer grabbed them randomly), jealousy?, huskers-bar is an employee at voxtek, lulu and angie as villains, lulu is a dog

chapter: 1/? Word count: 1,431

Featuring: babygirl anon and (eventually) @xxx-angie . I may add more along the way depending on who wants to be added. I can probably shoe-horn-in a few more characters

For the sake of not tagging people a million times, I will call nunalastor as a single entity nunalastor, traumatized mod dickmaster and cursed mod nun. and huskers-bar just husk. babygirl anon will be babygirl anon. i will be shortened to lulu but I don't appear in this fic yet. Angie doesn't appear yet, but he will be angie.

A/N: anyway this is 100% going to be a huskers-bar harem fic because i can write whatever i want. This first chapter kinda boring but it gets better (source: trust me bro). Lemme know if you'd like to see any changes. Anyway, goodbye for now. I have uni to get to so less frequent posting (sorry dickmaster, you'll have to live without any of my horrid art for a little while)

"Did you know that Alastor made a happy deer squeak during this scene?"

Ah, yes, the words that twist people's dreams into nightmares. Innocent innitially, and maybe even amusing for a good while, but the longer one lingered, the more their skin would crawl with irritation and burn their insides. Especially when one knew the context surrounding this particular phrase. And boy, did Nunalastor know the context.

~

"Another day, another inbox to slay, another heavenly lord to betray" Dickmaster accessed their and Nun's shared blog, unsurprisingly to hundreds if not thousands of asks invading their inbox, all of which were echoes of different variations of *thumps* and *squeaks*. If Nunalastor hadn't already grown accustomed to such deviancy, they would be horrified. Still, the depraved ideas these people came up with never failed to send shivers down their spine, and not the pleasant kind.

And why do they subject themselves to this? you may ask. It was simple. In exchange for free housing, food and supplies, Lucifer Morningstar, the devil himself and father of Charlie Morningstar had requested their help. You see, originally their blog was not this unfortunate cesspool of deranged demons who wanted to see the devil, overlords and sinners squirm under immense sexual pleasure. It used to be a simple marketing tool for the Hazbin hotel, but as all things in hell, it never goes smoothly. It wasn't like they had a choice in the matter anyway, refusing the king of hell's requests was not an option! His commands were absolute.

Dickmaster took one deep breath, running both hands through their hair and clearing their mind, preparing for probably several hours of torture that was going to be their asks. They poured themselves a drink, setting down in front of their screen. Taking a few moments to relish the silence, they closed their eyes and listened to the soft hum of their beaten up 1950's style computer, courtesy of Alastor's ban on Voxtek products at the hotel. Clicking on their inbox tab, they mentally braced themselves. even if they knew, they could never truly predict the horrors hell had to offer.

"time for #housekeeping" They declared, stretching their fingers, getting their reaction images on the ready and sifting through their own version of digital hell. It would only get worse from here.

~

As Nunalastor started to clean their digital home, erasing one cursed ask after another, responding to one alastor circus theory after another, One ask in particular caught their attention. It was definitely a surprise, and a welcome one at that. It stood out like a sore thumb, simple yet elegant, divine and a blessing among heaps of cursed messages that would have asmodeus and satan themselves shaking in fear.

"hi dickmaster" - anon

Nunalastor couldn't explain it. They don't know what came over them, but they felt a strange sense of attraction to this one particular anon. They were sweet, they gave them a place of solace from the dread that was piss kink headcanons and cursed deer facts, equivelent of the clogged up plumming disasters alastor had to fix with his bare hands at the Hazbin hotel. It was the piece of gold nugget hidden in a swamp full of moss and dog urine.

Dickmaster stared at the message for a good few seconds, really taking in the plainness and beauty of the two words before their eyes, appriciating all that message was as a small smile made its way up their face. This called for a special occasion. Dickmaster gripped their keyboard, nearly smashing it with the force. Their fingers danced along the keys and crafted a response like no other, one worthy of this random anon that managed to make their day a bit brighter.

"Hi babygirl" - Nunalastor

~

On the other side of the pentagram, a kind, sweet and not at all deranged huskers was scrolling through hells version of tumblr. Voxtek devices had proven to be quite useful in the underworld. It served as the main source of entertainment and escape for the lonely, not only for husk, but other sinners alike. Besides, being an employee meant he had extra privileges with Voxtek. Regardless, it introduced husk to the nunalastor blog, which was the best moment of their life (or lack thereof, considering they're dead).

They'd quickly grown accustomed to the undeserved hate thrown their way upon their first ever interractioin. Though they didn't understand, they could play along. They found strange comfort in the twisted logic that any form of attention was better than none. After all, being singled out meant they were special in the eyes of Nunalastor, right? that's how husk comforted themselves anyway. And they haven't seen Nunalastor actually reply to anyone with actual love before.

That is... until it happened. Someone who would later reveal themselves as babygirl anon, husks worst adversary and the unfortunate victim of lulu's slander showed up on their feed.

"hi dickmaster" - anon

"Hi babygirl" - Nunalastor

Husk stared at the screen in shock, their eyes widening and heart growing heavy. Countless questions and conflicting emotions swirled within them, each clutching their hold for attention. 'Is nunalastor serious? Do I not want them to be serious? Why can't I be treated the same? What did I do?' And amidst the chaos, one thought rose to the surface, crystal clear in Husk's mind.

'I want to be loved like that'

The frustration of being at the end of every one of Nunalastors verbal spears finally caught up to husk. Every small jab they'd written off as jokes suddenly felt like small pin needles scraping their skin. Unable to deal with the whirlwind of emotions and the confusion of it all, Husk sought solace in the one place they could always trust, the bottom of a bottle.

So they took a swig. And another. And another. Intil there wasn't a shred of emotion left to feel. Not a single thread of frustration left in them, not a nerve of anguish, not a line of confusing verbal spewage...

And not even a speck of self-restraint

~

"THEY JUST KEEP COMING" Dickmaster exclaimed, more like yelled as their inbox was flooded with more cursed asks at a rate faster than they could answer. At this pace, they'll be there all day, answering these asks like a poor overworked minimum wage employee at a call center.

"They'll run out of ideas eventually" Nun responded, nonchalantly, leaning against a nearby wall, sipping on a drink of their own. Nun watched as dickmaster struggled to find another reaction image fast enough so they could call it quits and leave the rest of the struggles for future Nunalastor to handle, or more accurately when it would be nun's turn to answer all the unhinged people in their inbox.

The hurried clicking of the keys on a keyboard could be heard throughout the entire room, bouncing off the walls, reflecting exactly how much infestation was actually happening in nunalastors inbox by the minute. "it would be great if you could answer a few you know, my fingers are dyin-"

And then it suddenly went quiet. The clicking died down and the unbelievably loud buzzing of their computer, along with the hitched breathing of Dickmaster was the only sound bouncing around the room. Nun of course raised a brow at this. "what's the holdup? we can't afford to take a break you know" they said, as if they were the one answering all of the asks in the first place.

nun walked over, curious as to what exactly had stopped dickmaster in his endless pursuit of emptying their inbox, considering they were always the more enthusiastic one of the two. "are you okay?" nun asked, half sarcastically. Their eyes landed over the current ask in their inbox.

"I wish you'd love me" huskers-bar

and suddenly the silence made sense. the pause had been a justified one.

dickmaster inhaled, followed by a deep and saddened exhale. they didn't want to take their eyes off of those five words. they could stare in awe and amazement at them for hours. it wasn't even the fact that it was just another ask that wasn't cursed, but because it was huskers-bar that sent-

a hand on dickmasters shoulder snaps them out of their daze, being brought back to reality, the pitiful reality. they were in hell for a reason, they reminded themselves.

"you remember our deal, don't you, dickmaster?" nuns voice cut through the buzzing, sounding deep, gruff, threatening and slightly saddened.

"yes of course" dickmaster turned back to the monitor, giving one last look at the ask before typing out what nunalastor has agreed would be the appropriate response.

"you'll get over it. #we are a huskers-bar hate blog"

#i'm kind of sorry but i cant take writing seriously when i called one of yous dickmaster askfdjaslkdfjoasidjgf #huskers-bar x nunalastor #i hope at least. idk i dont read this shit back to myself. my self esteem is low enough already #lulu is delulu #nunwhiskers

[hathay]

second year halloween hc’s pt2.

(i now realize in the splitting of the second years i left riddle by his lonesome with octavinelle, so to him i formally apologize.)

warnings: horror movies are mentioned, ghosts too. also i daurnt proof read😍 (may ooc riddle? i tried on him i am sorry if it sucks</3)

included: floyd, jade, riddle, & azul!

⥳floyd⥴

- he just really, really enjoys spooking people.

- like, a chance to dress up all scary?? to see the lovely faces of people lighting up with utter fear? SIGN HIM UP.

- he’s trying to scare anyone and everyone, let’s not mention how he gets all moody when someone isn’t scared by him and just giggling at his antics instead.

- he hates decorating for halloween it’s way too much effort but lemme tell you, pumpkin carving or horror movie watching? he’s all for it.

- makes the worst jack-o-lantern you’ve ever seen. like seriously what is that? he would quite literally just smile and be like “i love it😄”. he’d give it a name and all.

- he adores horror movies on halloween because he likes giggling when people are super scared, likes to teasing people about it too. (the type to scream in the middle of an intensely quiet scene.)

- steals candy. steals so much candy. actually, forget stealing, he just scares people into handing over candy to him and has NO remorse for it, they should’ve just been tougher, barely even put up a fight!

- he might even consider changing costumes halfway through the night so he can re-scare people or keep himself from getting bored.

⥴jade⥳

- he loves halloween are you kidding me.

- he loves costumes he seriously does, dressing up is just so exciting for him. he likes to look mysterious and all fancy.

- we all know halloween in the sea is much different so he’s still learning more about land halloween and boy is he INTERESTED. especially learning about all the cultures traditions, he’s captivated!

- also quite enjoys scaring people, he’ll wear a scary costume but go around acting like a living angels all night until he gets to chance to absolutely horrify people. then just does his lil soft smirk and struts away (he totally struts.)

- he also loves telling scary stories in the calmest most monotone voice while describing the most traumatizing scary thing ever. (it’s more chilling this way i’m telling you.)

- he would scare people in the most methodical way physically possible and he would act so shocked and innocent as his plan unraveled.

- the opposite of floyd in the pumpkin carving area, his pumpkin would be so gorgeous. like how did this man manage to make an art piece out of a PUMPKIN??

- he’s not a big candy fan tbh, man is floyd or someone else gonna luck out if he decides he’s feeling sweet enough to hand it all over.

♔riddle♔

- i beg of someone show him he can actually time to relax and enjoy himself on halloween.

- if he were to be somehow persuaded to go trick-or-treating i do think he would rather enjoy himself. to give himself a chance to be a bit of a kid, to let loose yk. it would be fun for him to experience something exciting that he hasn’t before.

- doesn’t want candy, he doesn’t like junk food, but mayhaps if he likes someone enough he wouldn’t be opposed to getting candy and giving it all to said person. as long as the queens rules permit it though.

- declines to watch horror movies. he won’t do it, maybe something tamer like halloween town? even then he’s judging EVERYONE in it.

- his costumes are well thought out, they are absolutely not something stupid or spur of the moment like certain people. (*cough cough ace*)

- BUT he lowkey likes being a little scary on halloween, it’s the intimidation factor that he enjoys.

- he won’t carve pumpkins either, way too messy for his tastes, maybe if the queen allows it, he’ll partake in painting or drawing on the front of pumpkins!

✯azul✯

- he’s so excited. so excited. sure sure he may seem like he’s only in it for a profit (he’s THRILLED about said profit don’t get me wrong) but he loves halloween itself too.

- he does enjoy halloween profit but he also just enjoys halloween decorates, he likes all the cute halloween stuff and how he can make it all however he pleases. like little sugar cubes shaped like pumpkins or ghosts? he’ll never tell but he thinks they’re so cute.

- idc what he says he’s afraid of ghosts. like how ghosts are quite prevalent in the coral sea, as a kid he would hide under his covers and sob because he was fearful of them. (it happened i was totally there)

- he would watch halloween movies but would act so hard to seem uninterested or that in that situation he’d be a-okay.

- he convinces people he only likes to capitalize off halloween but he lowkey loves matching costumes and thinks they’re cute. if someone he likes asked him to match i stg he’d be unable to speak. (he turns into mush fr)

- i think he would really enjoy dressing up, he’s an extravagant man yk! if he gets to wear something that makes him feel on top of the world he’s gonna do it.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst floyd #twst headcanons #twst halloween #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #jade leech #jade leech x reader #octavinelle #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle x reader #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #hathaywrites

[dittodon]

ᶻz﹒sherlock holmes

smau﹒scaramouche x gn!reader

"In a world where you're used to getting used to it, now I want to find myself"

sypnosis﹕not looking forward to your new roommate after the school finding out you've been living by yourself, you were greeted by an arrogant short man at the door. furthermore, he's been accompanied by his infuriating girlfriend. but from having him as a roommate, you find out secrets you'd wish to see, and secrets you feel guilty about knowing.

content﹕wanderer!scaramouche﹐modern au﹐angst﹐fluff﹐crack﹐sfw

warnings﹕ swearings﹐ooc﹐mentioned ships﹐kys jokes﹐scaramouche﹐if i ever use the wrong prns im so sorry

status﹕ongoing!

notes﹕i might drop this anytime so be aware- sometimes i have writer's block for months and forget i have a smau ongoing but my first scaramouche au woo yaa yaya. most of the songs i use aren't as hyped as the time i made this smau. p.s. most of the drawings are from my friends and from me, i don't own credit to any of the pictures though

ᶻz﹒CHAPTERS

[name]﹕gay people || scaramouche﹕mentally insane

﹢﹑season 1

001﹐new roommate

002﹐ew who's that?

003﹐fake friend

004﹐revealed

005﹐breakfast

006﹐who the fuck is mimi

007﹐necklace

008﹐mcdonalds

009﹐cafe

010﹐heizou

011﹐xiao and [name]

012﹐family dinner

012.5﹐cat

013﹐oh sh*t

﹢﹑season 2

014﹐uno

015﹐bestie hangout

016﹐GRAH

017﹐im a dumbass

018﹐i love svt

019﹐tbd

taglist﹕open !! (lemme know if u changed ur user!) astreaa-express user11918163805279 crucnhice xirthia the-ghost-0f-t0m0 yoursockstinks yukiipc inferisk0 boywxonder kimiesstuff elakari angryhope magica-ren yelleloww mine-lu sukunasrealgf justanothertiredreader bananasquash dollpoetwriting swivy123 elernity itzblazekun mellowberrie lxkeeeee kyouzki aeongiies anastaxiah feiherp meigalaxy mine-lu lyvaen lylovw keqing15 ozzierenato yuminako theblueblub mizokowashere imnotyizhuo vxcmx crossedtoesforluck123 taos-world suniika lalalaloveallmydays yourlocalyin lyzisbitchingagain suniika meigalaxy hanakokunzz quacking-simp

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smau #smau #genshin impact smau #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin modern au #modern au #fanfic #x reader #scaramouche modern au #scaramouche smau #ᶻz﹒sherlock holmes

[onyxino]

Break Me Down

Lieutenant!Muken!Aizen x Captain!Reader

WC: 3.8k

CW: Creampie, riding, soft sex, Oral (M&F receiving), Virginity loss (M). Slight Dom and Sub dynamic. Touched Starved Aizen. lil OOC/soft Aizen. If there is anything else lemme know &lt;3

I'm always of two minds on Aizen's sexual experience, on one hand he gives off the aura of 'THIS GUY FUCKS' but on the other hand I really don't think he would have the time or desire due to being more concentrated on his plans. So today I decided to play with the idea of Aizen having little to no sexual experience. Hope you enjoy! Prolly grammar and spelling mistakes but idc I'm human and yall just read for the fucking so .

this is just a conjuring of my delulu mind

You couldn’t believe it when they exonerated him.

You couldn’t believe it when Kisuke found a way to remove the Hougyoku from his chest without killing him.

You couldn’t believe it when they simply just placed him in your squad. With the head captain's only statement on the matter being “Captain (Name) can handle him if he gets out of control.”

Then you really really couldn’t believe it when you appointed him to be your lieutenant.

He had really proven himself to you, he seemed remorseful for his actions. He no longer wished for the fall of the soul society he wanted quite the opposite actually, he seemed to have been changing right before your very eyes.

At first even though you treated him with the same respect as you did your other subordinates but you limited your contact with him to just bare minimum, the stigma around him was just too strong.

Then one day you caught him sitting on his own underneath a shady tree and decided to join him, he looked so lonely and in a weird way you felt sadness for him.

The way his face twisted up in shock at your presence sealed in all of your assumptions. He wasn’t used to someone just willingly being in his company, he wasn’t used to human interaction at all.

As time passed you joined him under that tree any chance you could. You took your time and actually had meaningful conversations with him. You learned that you two enjoyed a lot of the same things. That’s when you decided that he would make a splendid lieutenant for you.

Aizen declined the offer at first stating that he hadn't had a real chance to earn your trust yet but you insisted and he relented.

That led you to now both of you sitting in your personal quarters on the floor looking and digging through old files looking for a specific report that would aid squad 12 in some research they were conducting.

You sighed and pinched your bridge. It was near midnight at this point and your eyes were starting to betray you, lids becoming heavier each time you blinked.

Aizen also felt the fatigue setting in, since returning to his shinigami state he realized how easily it was to become exhausted.

“Welp Lieutenant of mine, I really don't know if we have a shot at finding this report for them!” You said a yawn forming as you stretched your arms into the air.

“Agreed, my head is starting to hurt.” Aizen replied, running a hand over his partially covered face. It's true the headaches that have been coming and going since returning to his shinigami state had been killer. One of the many, many side effects his body had been enduring over the course of the last year or so.

“Oh damn, another headache again, Sosuke?” You ask worry etching its way to your face.

“Yes, unfortunately. Urahara said that they will lessen in time though.” You nod your head at his reply before slowly standing up.

“Would you like some tea then? I have chamomile, which works wonderfully for headaches.” You offer walking over to your kitchenette 

“Yes captain, please.” Sosuke had taken this moment to let his composure falter while your back was turned. Slouching forward he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

Having put the electric kettle on to heat making note that the timer would go off in 10 minutes and the kettle would shut off. Swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t forget about it this time you turn and you catch your eyepatched subordinate in this state. 

You felt your heart lurch a little for him “Do you want me to try something that my mom always did for me when I got bad headaches?” you asked, retaking your seat in front of him.

He opened his eye a little and nodded, “I’m willing to try just about anything at this point.” 

You nodded back at him and scooted a little bit closer just within arms length, you took note of how he flinched slightly at your movement “It involves me touching your head, if that's okay?”

All he did was a nod and you slowly reached your arms forward, slotting your digits into the brunette’s hair. He shuddered slightly at the contact, you massage his scalp digging your nails in ever so slightly.

Sosuke seemed to be enjoying it and it seemed to be alleviating some of the discomfort. You frowned slightly at the strap of the eyepatch getting in the way, your nimble fingers went for its buckle at the back of his head.

“Wait!” Sosuke almost yelped as his hands wrapped around your wrists stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes widened at the sudden action, “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” panic ran through you. You have never been able to get this close to him, the thought of crossing a boundary and having him regress on you made you feel ill.

“N-No, it’s just some parts of me are still- My eye it’s still discolored.” He explained quietly, still having your wrists in his hold.

“Sosuke.” The way his name slipped off your tongue in such a sweet fashion had him slightly shivering “It’s okay, I just wanna be able to message your head better, can I please take it off? I won’t judge you, I’m your captain, this is a safe space.”

He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding “Very well.”

You smiled at him and he swore the heart he insisted he never had stopped.

You slowly remove the eyepatch from his head and let it fall to the ground, you then return to lightly massaging his scalp.

You were right, he thought, this does feel a whole lot better.

Keeping his eyes closed he leaned into your touch more and let himself get lost in the feeling of your hands combing through his hair.

Then he whimpered,

You paused and his eyes shot open in disbelief. 

It was a small one but it was unmistakable, Sosuke Aizen just whimpered and you were the one who pulled it from him.

“I-”

“Wow, you really are touch starved aren’t you?” You ask a sympathetic look gracing your features, you dug your nails in just slightly harder. Testing the waters.

This had him inhaling a sharp breath “N-Never been touched like this.”

“I can tell, do you want me to keep going?” You ask cocking your head to the side.

“Yes, keep going but I need you closer.” Before even registering what he had said you felt a soft but strong grip on your hips pulling you into his lap. He lifted you like you were made of nothing.

You found yourself straddling his lap, chests smooshed together and faces dangerously close, It was your turn to take in a sharp breath. A hot feeling coursing its way throughout your body.

You can’t remember who did it first but in a fraction of a second your lips were connected, Aizen’s hands running up and down your sides. He was already a whimpering whiny mess in your arms, just from kissing you. He felt like he was going to explode when you took the opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.

It was sloppy, but it was passionate. He craved more, he never experienced wanting like this. Wanting another person. His hands further their exploration sliding their way up to your chest squeezing breasts roughly, you moaned into his mouth and it only fueled the fire, sending blood straight to his hardening cock.

You both parted from the intense makeout session with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. Heavy breathing just staring into each others eyes, taking this time to admire his slightly fucked out features.

Man, if this has him fucked out just imagine what sex would do to him you thought. 

Thinking of having him in such a state had heat pooling in your core, without thinking you slowly grind your hips into his. 

He yelped at the friction “(name)” he pleaded, and you did it again.

“D-do you wanna keep going?” You sheepishly ask burying your face into his neck placing soft kisses along the sensitive flesh leading up to his jaw line.

“I’ve never-”

He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, you understood completely. You pulled away from his neck and gave him a soft smile. “I can lead. I want you, Sosuke.” your hands rubbed up and down his shoulders in a comforting motion.

He sucked in a jagged breath “Please.”

“Please what, Sosuke? Use your words.” 

“Please, fuck me.” He panted, gripping your hips and pulling your clothed cores closer to each other in a desperate attempt to gain friction.

You placed a soft kiss to his lips before standing from him, he looked confused and almost sad at the loss of contact you couldn’t help but giggle at him. Sticking your hand out, he grabbed it and you led him over to the futon before gently pushing him down on it.

His breathing picked up once again as you kneeled over him. “Relax, at any time you wanna stop, just tell me and we will.”

He nodded in understanding at this and licked his lips as he watched you go for the knot tied in front of your shinigami uniform. Suddenly a surge of urgency ran through his body as he shot up and stopped your hands from continuing their action.

Your eyes shot up to him, worry spread throughout your body, had he changed his mind all of a sudden? Was something wrong?

“I want to undress you.” This statement sent a rush of liquid into your already damp panties.

You pulled your hands away from the semi untied knot of your uniform and allowed his hands to take their place. He was slow and gentle with it as you pulled the knot loose and went to work on your top. The way his face gained a new shade of red as he exposed your bare chest to himself had you breathing heavily.

He wasted no time exploring the new territory, the way your breasts fit perfectly into his hands had him in awe. He was a fast learner too, as to be expected he picked up quickly on what made those little noises he’d come to like so much fall from your mouth.

He noticed how sensitive your nipples were and little flicks and taps turned into rough pinches and pulls. “F-fuck, Sosuke. That’s so good.” You mewled as his lips attached to your right nipple and his hand continued to assault the left one.

Slotting your hands into his hair you slowly pulled him away from your chest, “I need you here though.” guiding his hands down to your bottoms, he picked up on exactly what you needed and he was quick to remove the rest of your clothing.

The sight before him was like no other, you laid out legs spread open for him. He may have been a virgin but he knew exactly where women liked to be touched. It took him no time to locate your bundle of nerves rubbing slow and soft circles against it.

“Can I taste you?” The request sent shivers down your spine.

“Only if I get to return the favor.” You said cheekily as you combed your fingers through his dark brown hair.

He swiftly lowered himself between your legs and applied a rough suck to your clit, the action caused a guttural moan to leave your lips. The hand in his hair tugging lightly was now gripping it aggressively pulling his face into your heat. Your other arm laid itself across your eyes unable to contain your embarrassment at your noises and sounds.

This did not go unnoticed by Aizen who detached his mouth from your heat and leaned up to remove your arm from your eyes “Don’t, I want you to look at me, if you look away or close your eyes I will stop.”  

You took in a sharp breath at this, this was the first showing of his dominance you have seen through this entire ordeal. You said you would lead but it was short lived once Aizen got the hang of this particular task. He needed your eye contact, he needed you to see him making you feel this good. You needed to know it was him and only him who could do this to you.

You maintained eye contact as he lapped and sucked at your clit, you gasped lightly as the intrusion of a long slender finger into your walls “Sosuke!” You cried as his finger curled up and he began to softly move it in and out of you.

“More a-and faster, please.” You pleaded, these pleas did not fall on deaf ears.

Aizen then added another finger and increased his speed, drinking up your arousal while listening to the sweet noises that tumbled from your shaky lips. It was a new form of heaven for him.

“S-sosuke- I’m really, really close.” You mewl pulling his face into your cunt, he increased his speed just a little bit more and sucked just a little bit harder on your clit but it was enough to send you falling over the edge. The sound of his name broken and falling from your lips had him grind into the futon below it was a high he knew he’d soon be addicted to.

Your breaths soon steadied as Aizen lifted himself over top of you taking in your form, your eyes met his and you gave him the sweetest smile he thought he’d ever seen, it filled his chest with warmth. “Thank you, that was so good, but now it's your turn.”

The warmth in his chest rose to his cheeks as you flipped your bodies in an instant demonstrating your strength just as he had earlier. Now you were sat on top of him grinding your naked core against his clothed one, the repeated action provided some friction but not enough and it was frustrating to him but not as frustrating as the moment you ceased all movement and removed yourself from his body.

His mouth hung open and he looked at you in disbelief “Don’t look at me like that, lieutenant. I have to undress you too don’t I?”

The realization hit him and had him slightly embarrassed, the pink dusting his cheeks turning a darker shade. Your hands went to the knot in the front of his uniform and with a simple tug it came undone, you decided to tease him with this and keep your movements slow. Aizen felt as if he was burning from the inside out.

He sat up slightly so that you could pull the top portion of his shinigami uniform off. You gasped slightly at the sight before you, he was absolutely gorgeous, like the gods chiseled his body by hand. 

Too Aizen, though your gasp was one of disgust, adorned on his chest was not only the scars from the seals piercing him but also the scar left from the Hougyoku’s removal procedure. He turned his head away from your gaze fearing the worst from your silence.

“Sosuke, your body is gorgeous.” You said in awe as the tips of your fingers grazed the scars upon his chest, he shuddered at the contact.

He returned his gaze to you eyes widened slightly at the compliment. You? Find him? Gorgeous? He was pulled from his thoughts by you applying just a little bit more pressure to the center of his chest with the tips of your fingers causing him to wince slightly. This did not go unnoticed by you “Did it hurt?”

He gazed at you trying to understand the context of your question. Did what hurt? The seals piercing my chest for what felt like ions? Or the surgery that I was mostly awake for that had me feeling as if my soul was being sucked from my body? He pondered.

“Yes, it hurt. All of it hurt.” He muttered quietly.

A somber look etched its way to your features “I’m sorry, love.” leaning down you pressed your cool lips touched the scar in the center of his chest and it felt like fire had begun to run its way through his veins once more.

Lastly you began working on his bottoms, once ridding him of the garment he was fully bare in front of you. Hungry cock springing free, your eyes widened at the impressive length of his manhood. Your mouth began to salivate at the thought of trying to take all of him down your throat.

Softly wrapping your fingers around the shaft you gave him a few strokes as you settled in between his legs. A strangled groan escaped Aizen’s lips, he thought he would cum from just the contact alone. You giggled at his reaction, the noises he made had your clit throbbing and your hole clenching around nothing.

Licking from the base to the tip you wrap your lips around his head and slid him into your mouth as far as you could take him. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t reach and you began to bob your head up and down hollowing your cheeks.

The pleasure was almost unbearable for Aizen, his hands found purchase in your hair swooping it back into a makeshift ponytail. He was finding it very hard to control himself, he eagerly wanted to thrust into your mouth and face fuck you until you were gagging, the thought of that had him on the brink of orgasm.

He was getting close, way too close. “Captain (Name), if you keep going like that I’m not gonna last.” the words left his mouth broken moans in between each word and you could have sworn you heard his voice crack.

You lifted your mouth from him with a obscene ‘pop’, “Fuck.” the curse fell out of his mouth as a hiss. 

Wiping your mouth on your arm you settled on top of him, running your folds against his shaft, fingers digging into his shoulders every time his tip bumped into your clit. Aizen’s grip was ironclad on your hips helping you drag them back and forth on his member.

“I need to be inside you.” He pleaded his nails leaving crescent shaped marks into your skin that will no doubt be bruised come morning.

Listening to his pleas, you lifted yourself up and aligned him with your entrance, sinking yourself down just enough to have his tip buried in you. A throaty gasp left Aizen’s lips, silently praising and cursing you in the same thought. 

“You’re gonna drag this out aren’t you, little minx.” He accused, head thrown back in pleasure.

You couldn’t hide the smirk playing on your lips, you had to tease him just a little “You can take it.”

In one swift motion you let yourself completely sink down on to his cock. You knocked your head back, eyes rolling ever so slightly at the delicious stretch of his girth. You couldn’t help but clamp down around him as you adjusted to his size.

“You’re so tight.” He hissed, eyes glued shut focused on not coming to an end just from being sheathed inside you.

You rolled your hips just a little and the moan that fell from his lips was obscene. You slowly bounced yourself on his cock it was like torture for the man below you, he was getting very impatient. He bucked his hips rough up into you cause your rhythm to falter “Faster, please- I”

You silenced his pleas by giving him exactly what he wanted. You picked up the pace and he met you halfway as he thrusted up into you, cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

He couldn’t contain the whimpers and pants rolling off his tongue. He looks so fucked out and on the edge. A particularly hard thrust from Aizen brought you out of your thoughts back into reality.

His hands slid from your waist to your thighs, groping them and gripping them hard, those will also undoubtedly become bruises come sunrise.

 “F-fuck, Sosuke. You’re doing so good, fucking me so good.” you whine tossing your head back and raking your nails down his chest leaving little red lines behind.

All he could muster in response was obscene moans and whiny breaths. You take a moment to drink in his image, he is beyond fucked out. His hair everywhere, his mouth a gape and there is a little bit of drool that slid from the corner of his mouth to the pillow below

You make note of this to tease him about later.  

You bite your lip hard at the sight, feeling that knot in your lower abdomen tighten up. You were getting close, really close and he was too. You walls clench around him when he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing slow circles.

“Tell me- Tell me where-” you already knew what he was getting at and you took no time with your answer.

“Inside please- need to feel it.” The thought of him cumming in you made your head spin and sent you flying off the edge. Walls squeezing against him repeatedly and the way his name fell off your tongue was pure sin.

His name sounding so debauched coming from your lips sent him over the edge with you, a rush of warmth spread through your core. You slowly rocked your hips against his working him through his orgasm, and milking his cock dry.

Taking note of each breathy whine that left his lips when your hips rocked forward.

Unable to hold yourself up any longer you laid atop his chest trying to regain your breath. His hands rub gently up and down your sides. You tilt your head upwards hoping to lock eyes with him but you are met with his eyes shut, a peaceful look etched into his features,

You admired him for a minute and a smile slowly curled on your lips as you drank him in.

“What are you smiling at?” He quipped, opening an eye to stare down at you, you would be lying if you said you didn’t jump a little bit slightly embarrassed. Just how long had he known you’d been staring?

“Oh nothing, nothing at all.” You say lifting yourself up and off him.

The sudden movement and disconnection of your conjoined bodies made a small barely audible whimper leave his lips. This did not go unnoticed by you, again you make a mental note of this to tease him about later.

“Stay here tonight, we can talk more in the morning.” You suggested as you snuggled yourself into his side.

He only nodded at the statement silently agreeing with you. He watched as your features slowly relaxed and your breathing mellowed out as sleep took you into its grasp. A sense of peace washed over him as his eyes wandered over your sleeping form.

What in the hell are you doing to me, woman.

#aizen sosuke #aizen sosuke smut #bleach manga #aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen #bleach x reader #aizen x you #bleach aizen #aizen x reader #captain aizen #bleach tybw