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sweetiecutie · 3 months

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Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the possibility, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!

Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe

Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈

Have a great day!!!

Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦

Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.

It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’

Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’

‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.

So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.

Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.

After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’

So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.

‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.

He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.

You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’

‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.

#spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv imagines #atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown imagines #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader

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autistichalsin · 2 months

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Some of my favorite, understated moments with heartbreaking implications for Halsin

1. Halsin threatening to turn into a mouse in the epilogue if the player brags about his achievements- he's so shy and humble that just being acknowledged for LITERALLY BUILDING A COMMUNE HIMSELF makes him want to hide. A mouse is a very symbolic choice here: not only easy to hide, but also easily overlooked and forgotten. The idea of his accomplishments being acknowledged is so terrifying for him that he wants to turn into an animal no one will notice, instead of his usual strong, large, noticeable bear.

2. "Sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." This isn't the kind of thing that happens after one or two people act like jerks. This is years and years of cruel treatment, of his emotions being demeaned and mocked because of his size. Of people judging him before even meeting him- and forming an entirely wrong view of him. Halsin is a bighearted, tender, sentimental man, yet because he's big... Well, big people don't have feelings, surely. /s

3. "You and I may struggle to go unnoticed in such environs, Karlach[...] Folk of our stature can be a lure for drunkards seeking a brawl, I have found," combined with, "There is a particular discomfort to besting one you know to be weaker than yourself - even when needs must," from a different scene. People have sought him out and fought him because of his size (which had to have been terrifying, especially the first time), and he feels guilty when he takes out someone he knows is weaker, even if they STARTED it. How many times has the poor guy been traveling and then had to defend himself against someone 1/2 his size, making HIM look like the asshole to onlookers, and reinforcing that whole "people think I can't be hurt" thing?

4. "It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..." (About the players' paths diverging post brain battle), combined with "I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless," if the player breaks up with him in the ending. This poor guy was having the time of his life adventuring with the group (and possibly falling in love there) yet never believed it would truly last (because of his abandonment issues). And then to have it confirmed.... he must have felt so awful in that moment, even if he was being dignified about it.

5. "You came for me... thank you. I feared Orin's accursed smile would be the very last sight I beheld," when Halsin is freed from Orin, combined with, "Orin's blades. I hoped my friends would save me..." If he is killed by Orin instead and Speak With the Dead is used on his corpse. The tone of his voice in the first line, especially added to that bit in the second... he never thought the player was coming to save him. He HOPED they would. Not "believed". Hoped. He thought he was going to die there- just like how he was in the Underdark for THREE YEARS and no one came to save him. And if it's confirmed... Yeah. That. (Sidenote: if you ask his corpse if he has any regrets, he says not telling Thaniel and Oliver goodbye, and not getting to see their land flourish. :( My heart. :( )

6. "I... have not had true confidantes for some time. The Shadow Curse robbed me of almost all my peers, and replaced them with the weight of responsibility. Perhaps that caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth." Halsin was so miserable and stressed being Archdruid that he romanticized his past as a sex slave, viewing it as a safer, even happier alternative. There were actually times when Halsin thought he might rather be a sex slave than continue to be Archdruid. In a sense, for the 100 years the Shadow Curse was around, Halsin was just as much a prisoner as Thaniel was in the Shadowfell, but Halsin's prison had invisible bars. The Shadow Curse took away his entire support system, and being Archdruid forced him to be the strong one, always, never allowed to be weak or scared, forced him to take control of situations when he hated it, forced him to spend his time sorting out people instead of being in nature. And he was MISERABLE. For 100 years.

7. "You understand me almost perfectly. Only my late mother may have bested you." (Said if you get one question wrong at the love dryad test). He misses his mama. :( Especially when you consider that if you steal Balthazar's "Mother Dearest" and taunt him about it, Halsin disapproves (and is the only one to do so), while returning her gets you approval (which only Halsin approves of). And then the line when you look into a mirror while controlling him, "more like my father, with each passing day..." He really misses them. :(

8. "I am loathe to see anyone behind bars. It reminds me of my time as a guest of the goblins." He is, secretly, still quite traumatized from his time in the goblin pens, but he brushes it off. Just like every OTHER time he is hurt.

9. "I am aware [of having a habit of getting captured]. Perhaps I put too much faith in my skills of negotiation, or want to see good where there is none. It would be easy to resort to nature's fury whenever something stood in my way, yet I cannot help but feel I would be sullying the Oak Father's gifts. Naive perhaps... but I still draw breath." Halsin is aware he gets hurt often because of his desire to see good in people until he has no other choice, but refuses to give up anyway (which is backed up by that letter Gut had on her where she reveals Halsin TRIED to help the goblins, saying he could cure them of their tadpoles, only to be thrown in the cage, with Gut threatening to have his stomach cut open and maggots placed inside it.) Further, even though he is an Archdruid, and one of the most devoted, and explicitly has Silvanus's favor (Halsin says that gaining his favor was the only way he was able to open the portal to the Shadowfell), he still constantly worries about using Silvanus's powers, to the point of wondering if an actual threat to his safety actually merits using his powers. Which... combined with some other stuff, reads like one hell of a problem with self-worth.

10. "At least you were not present. Grim as [the ruined battlefield] is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory[...] I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost" combined with, "I was [present when the Shadow Curse was unleashed]. Part of my spirit was shorn away from me here, and never left," and, if Last Light falls, "All gone... devoured by the shadows. Oak Father preserve us, it's just like a hundred years ago[...] We are [still standing]. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time." He has so much PTSD and survivor guilt from the Shadow Curse. :( No wonder it's all he can think about- to the point that some of the other companions even get annoyed at him for his obsession.

11. "I never quite realised how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove... I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you." Not only does this tie in with the above, with his PTSD from the curse and his utter misery at being Archdruid, but this HEAVILY implies Halsin had depression. Like... that "fog" line hits HARD if you have or have had depression, because that's exactly what it feels like. And the "forgetting who I was" bit too. Not just losing his sense of self to the depression, but to the neverending responsibilities of being Archdruid. I keep repeating myself, but damn, this guy has really and truly spent an entire century being absolutely MISERABLE. :(

12. "Forgive me. I... lost the run of myself. Sometimes, if blood runs hot enough, it's difficult to tame the beast." With that little disgusted groan/sigh, the fury and disgust at himself visible on his face, and the way he rushes to get out the rest of it- he thinks he fucked up so badly that you're about to leave him, maybe forever. And then if you reject him after this? "Ah... I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then." He has the most heartbroken look on his face here, and the way he says "of course" like he just... knew this was coming the instant he accidentally wildshaped. He felt that the first time he let ANY of his imperfections show, the player would leave him. :(

13. "Death is nature's final slumber - it awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair - not while there are still folk in need of your help." (Said to a Dark Urge if they tell him they're not much of a hero and most people needing them end up dead) Not only is Halsin speaking from experience here, but it's very clear he is STILL doing exactly what he tells Durge not to do, to himself- punishing himself over those who were lost, struggling with devastating survivor guilt.

14. "The grove has cut itself off from the world, to jealously guard its own little pocket of nature. No one shall ever enter or leave again. And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps..." If the Grove is sealed and you ask him about it later, this is what he says. Interesting that he views being evicted from the place he was in charge of protecting to be a "telling summary." He was forced to take the leadership role there, and yet it was clear he wasn't wanted or respected by a great number of the Druids (exempting Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis). He got a truly thankless job that took damn near EVERYTHING from him emotionally/mentally, causing him to develop depression and causing him to backslide in his previous healing from his trauma from his time as a sex slave, he still gave EVERYTHING to the Grove, and in return...... almost none of his Druids appreciated or even liked him. (I could seriously write at least five metas about how obviously miserable Halsin was at the Grove, despite caring for it deeply).

15. "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me." Said at the epilogue to a solo romanced player who went to the commune with him. There's so many layers of heartbreak here. He is still surprised, six months later, that the player chose him. He even thinks the player will regret it, and will decide they want an adventurer's life after all after seeing everyone else. He doesn't think he is good enough- doesn't think he deserves the player, and yet at the same time he loves them so much that he is heartbroken over the possibility they might agree with him. He thinks that given a chance, there is little chance they would actually choose him again. (He is put at ease quickly when the player promises they picked him for a reason, but even the explanation he gives for why he was so worrie is heartbreaking- that he's so used to a tumultuous life that he thinks something must go wrong. He has been so traumatized so many times over the years that he just has almost no ability to think that true happiness is possible [or deserved] for him.) Something about that is just heartbreaking, even though his ending is one of the happiest of any of the companions.

Someone give this sweet bear man a hug, please :(

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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clockwayswrites · 2 months

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City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

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drabblesandimagines · 3 months

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Been playing a lil' bit of Rebirth and found this in my drafts - dunno if I'll continue it but throwing it out into the world. Sephiroth x female reader (reader is President Shinra's daughter, no spoilers for Rebirth, just your average Sephiroth lore)

You wake up with a start as your book hits the floor with a thud. You’d fallen asleep on the sofa, reading. The only recreational activity you’re permitted these days.

“Hello, little one.”

You must be dreaming. You have to be, because you haven’t heard his voice in five years.

Not since he'd left on a mission - an awkward goodbye on your part at the door of your quarters. He'd pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, ever chivalrous.

But he’s there, towering, in the shadows of the corner, his eyes almost glowing. They said he was dead. You’d played the part of a war widow, despite the fact the two of you weren’t even married when he was killed in action. You were never sure if the wedding was truly going to happen - surely just a PR stunt to boost morale. The war hero and the darling of Shinra. When he hadn't returned, you'd been sent out to endless memorials, dressed head to toe in black, told not to speak, before you secluded yourself to process your grief - or at least that’s what the press releases said when your father or brother had been asked about your rare public appearances.

“I thought you’d be more pleased to see your betrothed.”

“You’re…” You swallow, though your throat remains as dry as it was. “You’re dead.”

Sephiroth steps forward into the dim light of the room and you hear something drip on the floor.

“Am I?” At first, you think he’s scowling at your statement, the fact that you’d think he, of all people, was dead. But within a blink, he’s somehow in front of you, one hand grasping your chin with firm fingers. “What happened to your face?”

“I… displeased the President.”

“He hit you.” It’s not a question. He turns your face to the side, taking in the purple and yellow bruising before tsking. “That won’t do.”

There’s another drip as he releases his hold on your chin.

“It is not as bad as it looks.”

“I do not tolerate others marring my things.”

Drip.

You should be indignant at being referred to as a thing, as his thing - you know you should - but perhaps it’s the shock of him standing before you, as if no time had passed at all, and the odd noise that appears to accompany him. Your eyes are drawn down to his left hand, the source of whatever was dripping on the linoleum. He notices your stare. “Allow me to make introductions. Little one, I’d like you to meet my mother, Jenova.” He holds his hand aloft, now practically beaming and it takes a moment for you to process what you actually see before you. "Mother, meet my soon to be wife." He’s holding a head.

Please do comment if you'd be interested in more!

#ghostdogwrites #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth x you #ffvii x reader #wips

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tabithatwo · 9 months

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It’s actually so painfully brilliant the way yellowjackets sets up their un-stereotype-able characters. I could (and might) do this for all of them, but because she’s on my mind right now—the show tells us that jackie taylor is the type of girl who has high expectations put on her and WILL be analyzed constantly (from coach, her parents, jeff, shauna (if only by way of shauna’s reflective habits and her personal narrative construction), the team (by way of being captain).

Then they show us so many instances of Jackie being good and kind. Is she perfect? NO, BECAUSE THEN SHE’D BE ANOTHER STEREOTYPE (THE PERFECT DEAD GIRL/WIFE), SILLY! She has enough edge to be believable as a teenage girl.

And what do people do with that edge? They sharpen it and sharpen it and use it to cut out every moment where Jackie is being kind or trying her hardest! Because what do we like?? Feeling confident in our stereotypical assumptions of people! And what did the show do? Give us scenes with blocking that suggests the popular girl/loner best friend stereotype and absolutely turn them on their head, because what’s not very realistic?? The popular girl who is mean to her loser best friend stereotype in media! (Is it impossible in life? NO, nothing is! But it’s not a standard set up. It’s not as common as media makes it out to be.)

What is one of Jackie’s primary fears as a character? Being held to INSANELY high standards and not meeting them! And what do the viewers commonly do to jackie? Why, they hold her to INSANELY high standards and show how she doesn’t meet them, of course!

Jackie cannot slip up, every instance where she falls short is catalogued as a gotcha moment. She was never allowed to fully develop on the screen because we often get her through the filter of shauna.

She gets deeply depressed, that depression is largely ignored in the show (lottie doesn’t pitch in much either, but her brand of being unwell is observed and understood as existing more so than Jackie’s), and then it is often ignored by viewers (“why didn’t she just come inside, she’s stubborn and dumb!” rather than “wow, look at this consistent descent into deep depression and suicidal ideation we’ve seen since episode 3, culminating in Jackie choosing to stay outside, what can we glean from that?”)

Jackie dies and she is literally consumed in totality—her memory is obscured, the hallucination form of her is filtered through Shauna’s psyche, her corpse is a doll, her flesh is digested. And a photo of her at 18 years old is posted at the 25 year reunion, looking perfect, attached to nothing of her life or who she was, used to facilitate a dance between her ex boyfriend and her best friend, who betrayed her in a way that most people would never get over, (but as we’re shown in the death dream Jackie ultimately would).

Allie literally says, “While I know she isn’t here with us, I know that this is what Jackie would have wanted.” She says that! In the show! To punctuate the absurdity of it all! The very relationship that broke Jackie’s heart, crushed her spirit, destroyed her will to live, being touted as something she would’ve wanted to hundreds of people.

And if that doesn’t strike you as a fucking horrifying tragedy, as emblematic of the reduction of women to whatever those around them need them to be, in order to fit their narrative, in order to be useful to them, then baby this show is sailing over your head.

#jackie taylor #shauna shipman #jackie x shauna #yellowjackets #shauna x jackie #jackieshauna

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munsonsmixtapes · 18 days

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He’s Back! (From the Dead)

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: you mourn the loss of your boyfriend, Eddie who died fighting in the Upside Down. Or did he?

word count: 2.8k

cw: mentions of death and grief and reader’s deteriorating mental heath, hurt/comfort

You stood in your bathroom, wondering why you were even applying makeup when you knew you were just going to cry it all off. You brushed through your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror. You had dark circles from lack of sleep and had lost some weight since you didn’t have it in you to eat anything.

Just over a week ago, your boyfriend, Eddie had gone missing. After looking for him for what felt like ages, Hawkins police had declared him dead when they found his body, covered in bat bites as the coroner had declared.

You had been in disbelief. Even after seeing the body for yourself, you just couldn’t believe that he was gone. You had seen him the night before and despite being freaked out by everything that had happened to Chrissy, he seemed like his normal self.

And then the next day, he was found dead, in front of his trailer covered in bites from bats? Where has the bats come from and why had Eddie been their target? The whole thing has just seemed to suspicious to you.

You hadn’t been able to sleep since you got the news. Horrible nightmares of Eddie being eaten by the bats were the only thing you were able to see when you closed your eyes so you decided to just not sleep at all.

You had been taking pills to keep you awake had spent sleepless nights on your computer heavily researching the case, trying to figure out what exactly had happened. You were still determined to figure out what had actually happened to him since you nothing seemed to be adding up.

Once your hair was brushed, you smoothed out your dress and exited the bathroom, ready physically but not mentally to head to the graveyard where Eddie’s service would be held. It almost didn’t seem real. You were about to head to your boyfriend’s funeral.

You pulled up to the graveyard after crying the whole thing, playing nothing but Eddie’s favorite songs on the way there. The whole drive, you imagined Eddie in the passenger seat, singing along to the songs playing from your tape with his hand on your thigh where it always was.

The whole thing made you cry even more so you made sure to fix your smudged makeup before meeting everyone at Eddie’s burial sight. The whole gang was there, the members of the Hellfire Club and Eddie’s uncle Wayne. It was a very small turnout, but those were the exact people you were expecting to see.

You made a beeline for a group and were quick to pull Wayne in a hug. You felt like out of everyone, he needed it most. He had lost the only family he had and to make matters even worse, everyone had hated Eddie. So much so that he had to have the service a few towns over since he didn’t want anyone crashing it with their metaphorical pitch forks, telling him that the boy didn’t deserve a funeral because of the evil thing he did to Chrissy.

You caught sight of Dustin over Wayne’s shoulder and your eyes locked on his. You could see that they were filled with tears and that his nose was bright red and you knew that it wasn’t from the wind that was swirling around all of you.

Once Wayne had pulled away, you made a beeline for Dustin, pulling him into your arms, letting him cry into your chest. You both let out soft sobs and you felt your heart shatter, knowing just how much Eddie had meant to the kid. He had been his mentor and most importantly, his friend. They had gotten super close over the past year and almost seemed like brothers.

You pulled away after giving his back a light rub the moved onto the other club members, giving them all the hugs before you stood next to Wayne, resting a hand on his back as the pastor started to speak.

“We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Edward Munson.” You felt yourself start to zone out as he continued to speak, every single memory you had with Eddie replaying in your head. The entire timeline of your year-long relationship went through your mind from beginning to end and you hadn’t even been aware of your soft sobs until Wayne had rested a hand on your back. The whole thing was just too much for you to take.

You looked around at all of the people in attendance, the pastor’s words still not getting through to you and your heart absolutely crumbled, watching everyone cry. It broke you knowing that none of you would ever be able to speak to Eddie ever again. He was gone.

You felt Wayne pat your back and you turned to him. He pointed to the pastor who you turned to. The man was gesturing toward you and you realized that it had finally gotten to the part when you were supposed to read your letter.

You couldn’t. You could barely speak in general, especially not read your very personal letter out loud. Reading it would make it real and as far as you were concerned, none of what you were currently experiencing was real.

You slowly pulled the letter out of your pocket and opened it, taking a deep breath. Wayne rubbed your back with encouragement as you read what you had written. You could still see the tear stains that littered it and now there were more as you let them fall from your eyes onto the page.

You got choked up, resisting the urge to sob, trying your best to hold it back. After everyone read all their letters, the pastor wrapped things up and the casket was lowered into the grave. Watching Eddie’s body actually be lowered into the grave was your breaking point. It was as if his death was actually real, finalized.

You dropped to the grass and broke down, the sobs not being able to contained anymore. You let out a loud sob as you tried to grab onto the casket to get one more look at Eddie, but Wayne grabbed you before you could get to it.

He pulled you to his chest and you cried into it as he shushed you, trying his best to calm down. The others crowded around you and you had never felt more loved in you who life, grateful that there were people who actually understood what you were going through.

“Come back to the house,” Wayne urged. “I’m inviting everyone for lunch.”

“That’s really nice of you, Wayne, and I appreciate the invitation, but I think I just want to be alone.” Lunch with everyone sounded nice, but you just didn’t have it in you. You just wanted to curl up in your bed and cry yourself to sleep.

“Well, at least let me take you home. You’re not in a place to drive.” You agreed with that. Watching Eddie be lowered into the ground made you realize just how real everything was and you seemed to have let out everything you had bottled up for the past week. Wayne lead you to his car and you made sure to give the others hugs before you went.

The car ride was silent, the only thing that could be heard was the radio playing the rock station very quietly. You looked out the window as you entered Hawkins, watching the buildings pass by, remembering all of Eddie’s favorite places: the comic book store, the arcade, and the ice cream place that you both frequented. Eventually you were going to have to go back to them, not letting your grief taint how good they made you feel.

Wayne pulled up to your house before you knew it and you thanked him for the ride alone with a hug and got out of the car, rushing onto your house. You ran up the stairs, neither of your parents bothering to get up from the couch to check on you.

They never liked Eddie because of his reputation and had waved his death off with a “good riddance” then moved on with their day as if your life hadn’t completely fallen apart. There hadn’t been a single “I’m sorry for your loss.” or “We’re here for you.” Just a pat on the back then they never talked about it again.

You got to your room and threw yourself onto your bed, tears falling as more sobs escaped your throat. He was gone. He was really gone. And no one else seemed to care. In fact, you could have sworn that you had heard people celebrating when the news broke out. They had finally gotten rid of the devil worshiper so maybe all of that would be put to an end no that he was six feet underground.

You were so caught up in your thoughts about Eddie that you could have heard the little taps he did on your window so you’d let him in. You turned to face the window, so sure that no one was going to be there, but right on your balcony was your boyfriend you had just watched be buried into the ground. You clearly weren’t in your right mind, very sure that it was just an hallucination.

You slowly moved your way to the window, practically falling over yourself as you did so. As you got closer, you could clearly see Eddie’s face, his face lighting up as he saw you. You had to have been crazy because there was no fucking way that he was actually there. You hesitantly opened the window, your curiosity getting the best of you, falling to the floor as you took in the man before you. He looked so real that it had to have been someone playing a very cruel trick on you.

This wasn’t Eddie. Whoever it was, was covered in blood, their shirt ripped to pieces, their wounds completely on display. You felt sick, thinking about Eddie looking like that, bile practically climbing your throat.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he said, making a beeline for you and you crawled backwards, feeling around the floor for anything you could use as a weapon. You didn’t know how they were able to nail Eddie’s voice, but they had it down. Why they were doing this whole thing, you didn’t know. In fact, you thought it was pretty fucked up.

You grabbed onto the magazine that had slid under your bed and rolled it up as you stood up. You then repeatedly hit the stranger, wanting to get out all of your anger that you had been holding in for over a week. They out a bunch of yelps as you hit them, backing up as they fell onto the bed. You kept hitting them until your anger had turned into your tears.

“Honey, honey, it’s me.” The stranger grabbed onto your wrists so you’d stop, but you just wriggled out of their grasp and hit them a few more times until they took the magazine from you, throwing it to the side. They reached for you and you just backed away until you hit your desk, fear evident on your face.

“I don’t know why you think it’s okay to impersonate a dead person, but it’s really not funny,” you told them, your anger outweighing your fear. You reached behind you, feeling for something you could use as a weapon since you didn’t have your magazine. “Get back,” you demanded as you pointed the pencil you had grabbed onto at them. They put their hands up in defense and did as you instructed, confusion clear on their face.

“Honey, what is going on? It’s me, Eddie. Your boyfriend.” How much of an idiot did they think you were?

“That’s impossible. You’re dead.” If Eddie was alive, then who had they just buried? None of it made any sense and the whole thing was starting to give you a headache.

Dead? Eddie wasn’t sure why you would have thought that considering the fact that he was standing right in front of you, very much alive. Sure, he didn’t look like it since he was covered in blood and definitely could have used a shower, but after fixing up his wounds as best he could with random stuff he had found around the Upside Down, he was (almost) good as new.

“Dead?” The stranger patted the spot where their heart was with a little chuckle. “I seem very alive to me.” You had to applaud them for nailing Eddie’s mannerisms. You were so out of your mind that with just a little more convincing, you might have actually believed him.

“I just watched them bury you, Eddie.” Your eyes started to water again and you felt that pit forming in your stomach that you had tried your hardest to ignore it.

“Well, I don’t know who they buried, but clearly it wasn’t me.” If they hadn’t buried him, then who had they buried? The thought haunted you.

“Why should I believe you?” You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning further away as he stepped closer.

“Come here.” He opened his arms and you moved away, backing yourself towards the window.

“Not a chance.” You were afraid to get close in case it really was him. You weren’t sure how you would have felt if it was.

“It’s me, honey.” He looked pained and he was. How could you not believe him? You always believed him no matter what and now there you were…afraid of him. He never thought that would have been possible. You always thought he was sweet and kind, a real gentleman despite how “scary” he looked to other people.

“Prove it.” He should have known that was coming, but how was there a way to prove it?

“What?” He stepped closer and you just moved back.

“Prove it.” You pointed the pencil at him again and he fought back a laugh at your sad weapon.

“How?” Eddie had no fucking clue how he was going to prove it you, but he was going to damn well try. He wanted so badly for you believe him n

“Tell me something that only Eddie would know about me.” You didn’t seem impressed and he hated the disappointed look on your face, noticing the bags that had formed under yours eyes. When was the last time you had slept?

“Like what?” He would have answered anything you asked, told you anything you wanted to know. He just wanted his girl back.

“What’s my favorite color?” He would have at least thought you’d give him a harder question.

“Blue.” Anyone could have guessed that it was a popular color.

“Lucky guess,” you grumbled and lowered your pencil. “Where did we go on our first date?” He remembered it like it was yesterday, so that, he could answer so easily.

“We got ice cream.” You were about to ask what flavor you had gotten, but he answered before you could. “You got mint chocolate chip.”

Your eyes widened at his answer and you gulped, realization washing over you. It was him! Of course it was him, how could it not have been? You were suddenly feeling so stupid to have thought that it was a cruel joke.

“And what else did we do?” You didn’t know why you were asking when he had given you the exact answer you had wanted.

“We went to the arcade and you kissed me outside it after I won you that teddy bear.” He pointed to the one that had been sitting on your bed. “It’s your little Eddie bear.”

“Oh my god. It’s really is you.” You threw yourself into his arms, burying your face into his neck, your sobs now happy ones. It didn’t seem real, almost as if you had dreamed it up.

“Always was, honey. I’m so sorry that I didn’t come to you sooner.” You pulled back to look at him, noticing that his eyes were misty. Tears eventually ran down his cheeks and you both reached up to wipe each other’s tears away.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I just missed you.” You pressed your lips to his and he was quick to return your kiss, it being soft and sweet, but filled with longing from you both being separated so long.

“I missed you too,” he reached up and brushed your hair away from your face. “You have no idea. Now, do you think you could clean me up?”

“That I can do.” You pulled him for another lingering kiss then took him by the hand so you both could take a much needed shower.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson hurt/comfort

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toast-on-dandelioms · 4 months

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Regarding my last ask how does the batfam react to Venom? Like how do they interact with them? Also how did it look from another perspective? The Spider having a new look and abilities and acting in a new way.

That's also a good question! (Basically everything you ask me will be a good question because it gives me more ideas)

I will do every character in the story so far and explain their first reaction and then how they would act with Venom as they get used to him.

Clark Kent: he would be the first one you show Venom after getting to know him and trusting him enough.

Plus, after he refused to make Batman meet you again after you refused when he proposed it made you feel appreciated and you knew you could trust him with Venom.

Venom also trusted him and was friendly with him, something new since Venom was usually hostile with everyone, including you the first month you two were together before warming up to you.

He's usually a snarky little brat whenever Clark tries to start a speech about Justice, just to mess with him since he knows Clark can hear him.

Plus Venom would just laugh whenever he and Clark would argue while you would eat something, loving how easy it was to rile Clark up.

Clark, the first time he met Venom, was a bit surprised at such alien and especially the new abilities it came with, surprised such blob like creature was so advanced in speech and abilities.

He did try to separate the two of you before understanding that Venom was like another part of you that cannot be removed, especially since you refused to let go of Venom after spending so much time with him.

He's also incredibly weirded out when he saw your form when Venom takes over, too used to your shorter form (since Clark is freaking tall and you're still a teen), plus all the black goo that Venom uses to move around like you makes him a bit disgusted but would never say it to your face.

He does not mind Venom after getting to know him, but does get angry whenever Venom would make fun of him or his speeches even though he never gets so mad to say something offensive since he knows Venom respects him. (You told him that when Venom was distracted, but got a bit of an earful by him after he found out).

He is one of the people Venom actually listens to and gets easily manipulated by when you get hurt, making him believe that staying with the Waynes with you and making you weak so you wouldn't escape, would be for the best.

(Clark also got manipulated since he wanted to take you home with him and his sons, but compromised to be able to visit whenever he wants because he thought you staying there was the best option)

Bruce Wayne: ok so, Bruce will find out about Venom when he first met Spider aka you in part 3.

How did he meet Venom? Basically when you grab Tim with your webs changes into Venom that grabs Tim, staying hidden for a bit before coming out to taunt Bruce when you refused his proposal.

After he finds out who you are behind the mask and gets overprotective over you, Venom usually annoys him or taunts him when you're forced to spend time with him to make up for the fact that he didn't before.

He would never respect Bruce, not after what he saw from your memories and how you were treated for years while Bruce would treat him like an annoying mosquito that flies in your room at night.

Bruce would hate Venom sometimes, especially when he sees you talk with Venom with such happiness in your eyes but when you're with him, you're usually with a dead expression and never say anything.

He would be so jealous of Venom and how you acted so close with him but would act like you were dead when spending time with your father.

When he did see Venom in his full form when you needed to go to bed but was stuck on the couch with Dick and Tim trying to cuddle with you, it shocked him.

He was glad he managed to manipulate the alien so he could keep you in the Manor or he knew he couldn't stop the alien, at least until he knew everything about it and all his weaknesses.

Dick Grayson: the rest of the batkids will also learn about Venom the same time Bruce does so I'll start from then so I don't repeat it.

Dick would be amazed by the alien, even though he knew Kori/Starfire (not sure on her name so I put both) but the alien form you were fused with was far more interesting.

He did get scared when Tim suddenly get caught in Venom's webs/goo, not thinking you would attack or even notice them since they were trained to be as silent as a ninja.

He does get along with Venom by giving him brains from gangsters that dared to hurt you when you were still a vigilante, plus he used Venom as a way to hide the evidence whenever he killed someone.

(You would always be sleeping when Venom would eat people and he would make sure you never knew)

He doesn't mind Venom and they're friends, plus he gets an advantage with you since Venom slowly manipulates you to see Dick as a brother and not an enemy.

Overall, Dick wouldn't mind Venom and actually be one of the ones to use him for their advantage with you, since the others aren't really good with Venom or you hate them and Venom does too.

Jason Todd: he's similar to Dick since he fight gangsters everyday and does kill them so he brings the remains to Venom when you're asleep and Venom took over.

He would spoil you and Venom to the max, giving you everything you wished for even if it was something you wanted when you were 12.

Venom likes him because he and Jason love taunting Bruce and making him feel bad, while you just stay on the side or sleeping since Venom takes over mostly when you sleep so you won't complain about what he does.

Plus, Jason is one of the brothers you actually spend time with since he doesn't try to invade your personal space like Dick, and just spends time with you even if you both are just reading in a comfortable silence.

Jason treats you and Venom like normal, not really giving off that he's a yandere even though Venom knows he's one of the ones to manipulate you in small ways because after all, he's also Bruce's son.

Tim Drake: he's a bit difficult to understand since he acts normal, like when you didn't even exists in his life, but he did change a bit.

He spends more time with you and Venom, mostly with you three in his room watching him work or you ignoring him as he tries to talk to you, even using Venom to cover your ears.

Venom and Tim are on ok terms, Venom doesn't hate the guy but also doesn't really like him. They're both neutral and act civil whenever they talk while you do your thing.

He doesn't really react when Venom takes over, acts normal while also studying Venom to see if he had any weaknesses so he could exploit them if necessary.

Damian Wayne: oh Venom hates him and it's reciprocated since Damian also detest the alien form that is fused with you.

He did try to find ways to separate the two of you but stopped when Bruce and Clark informed him that you were fused with Venom to the point you two would die if you get separated.

He hates the alien since whenever he tries to impress you, he's there to annoy him or taunt him with what he did to you in the past.

He also hates how he can't spar with you because of the alien since he makes you weakened and slower, so the fight wouldn't even be fair and Damian wants it to be fair so he can show off how good he is.

He doesn't care about how Venom looks, he just hates him even if he's ugly but can't really say anything to you since you also hate him and don't want to spend time with him.

He does know it's his own fault for treating you so bad for years, especially whenever he sees your scars that were caused by him but prefers to blame Venom for making you against him.

Overall, everyone does accept Venom except for Bruce and Damian but they can't really do much about it.

Part 1 to the ask about Venom is here!

Sorry for taking so long for it, hope you like it!

For the divider you can go to @saradika-graphics! She does amazing dividers!

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adamsrcnan · 1 month

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OKAY OKAY here we goooo an annoyingly long-ish post about all my thoughts on The Sunshine Court

Spoilers Spoilers Spoilersss you've been warned

First things first it is so interesting to see Nora writing from not one but TWO new people's perspective. Jean's perspective is just devastating being inside his head is heartbreaking the constant fear and panic and how much of his energy is used on just pushing down every memory of what was done to him. His coping mechanisms are terrifying and i truly do hope by the end of book 2 he has a healthier way of dealing with it bc baby boy stop hurting yourself :( Every sentence was so painful to read. But also his resilience the entire time to get through it no matter what, god i fucking love him!!! He is a fighter.

Jeremy's perspective is sooooo refreshing. He is such a little sweetheart i could cry. The fact that he sends hand written letters and he's so caring and genuine but he can also be so stern. When he dropped that "i asked you a question" to Lucas fkehdjdfjdh OK SIR. I'M SAT. His relationship with the family butler is so endearing as well i need more background on that for sure! My only one criticism is that he didn't have enough pov chapters and i'm hoping we'll learn more in the second book of course because there's still so much about him and his (dysfunctional? toxic?) family dynamic that we don't know yet but also i'm greedy and i wanna know EVEYTHING about him !!!

Kevin and Jean are so just tragic it actually breaks my fucking heart like "you didn't have to slit my throat on the way out" JEAN??? and "promise me you won't try again. I can't lose you." KEVIN??? And the fact that Jean to this day is still keeping that promise. Also Jean's obvious but secret long term crush on Kevin the way it's subtly dropped every time Jean has to stamp down on his desire's and "temptations" GOD PLEASE I CAN'T STAND IT

SPEAKING OF!!! BISEXUAL JEAN ??? BI JEAN??? BI JEANNNN !!!!

Neil and Jean oh my God like where do i even start?? The guilt Jean feels at what happened to Neil in the Nest and him finally calling him by his name after Riko's death and telling him his game was good. And Neil seriously needs to give himself more credit for how much of a caring person he is because the way he indirectly told Jean that he thinks he is worth saving and didn't even hesitate before asking Stuart to send someone after That Guy after what Jean told him. Neil Josten the man that you are!!!

Jean's little sister Elodie what a beautiful name. Them being so close and him reading to her. The way he found out about her death jolted me differently. It was so awful and i'm so sorry Jean didn't get to see her grow up and meet her again.

Renee and Jean oh my god. Jean thinking she's beautiful (bitch me toooo) And the whole right person wrong time ugh i can't stand it. Him wearing her necklace all the time, enough that Jeremy always notices it. And unabashedly stealing her picture from the foxes lounge. Like he did not give a fuck. He said this one is mine. One good reason to stay alive being rainbows i'm gonna FKSJSKDHDH. Theirs would be such a soft love.

Speaking of soft loves Laila and Cat are EVERYTHINGGGG. God they are so cute with their little domestic life and their rich gay boy son who crashes on their couch with his cardboard cut out dog. That whole friendship dynamic is beautiful. Their fierce protectiveness and care over Jean as well and the patience they have with him even after the little kitchen incident. When Cat took Jean out for a drive on her motorcycle god that was such a heart warming moment and Jean helping them cook as well and becoming the girls' little sous chef it's so cute so endearing !!!

FINALLY FINALLY THE JEREJEAN DYNAMIC

PLEASE I'M GONNA SCREAM

Jeremy being the one who told Jean that Riko was dead i don't even know what to begin with THAT like hhhhhhh. The way they're both stupidly attracted to each other but won't/can't do anything about it. THE WHOLE "say yes Jeremy" SCENE WTF WAS THATTT I WAS GOING INSANEEEE. Both of them having to stop mid sentence when they catch the other looking FINE as hell. Jean being so obvious that even Lucas picks up on the way he looks at Jeremy. Jeremy being there to ground Jean in a Moment and helping him come down from it. Grabbing his face and telling him he's okay. Moving into the room with him to make him feel more comfortable !! The way Jean grabs Jeremy's chin (boiiiii). Jeremy constantly reminding Jean that he is NOT A RAVEN ANYMORE no matter how many times he has to say it. Jeremy saying he'll wait as long as it takes until Jean speaks to him. JEREMY GIVING HIM A HUG AND JEAN CLUTCHING DESPERATELY TO HIS SHIRT FUUCUFHDHSJHSSUHDH and then the "will you help me?" And the "Anything you need" AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE A CERAMICS CLASS TOGETHER?!?!?!!!! i can't i can't i can't i caaan'ttt

There's so much more to say but i'm gonna leave it at this for now because i need to go re-read it again and take my time with it this time round but i really could not have asked for anything better Nora truly outdid herself here !!! I'm forever grateful she blessed us with this after so long.

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icaruspendragon · 7 months

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im sorry to ask but i dont know what else to do—how did you do it how did you dig yourself out because it feels like i am choking on dirt and people keep shoveling it onto me and i miss her so much and i dont know how to make this feeling stop. she was my best friend. ive never lived in a world without her before. how did you do it. how are you doing it

grief is so hard and so heavy when we first meet it. it feels like all our arms will ever hold for the rest of forever. and it is, in a sense. once we pick it up, we never really set it down. not fully.

and I don't think it gets lighter, I think we somehow, impossibly, get stronger.

there's lots of metaphors for grief. that's one of them. another one I like to use is that it feels like you're in the grave with them. like lazarus. like yourself. waiting for someone to raise you from the dead. to raise you both.

I've learned a lot about crawling out of the grave. more than I would have ever wanted to learn. like how emptiness is actually quite heavy. or how to pretend like you feel half-alive. but I think the most important thing I've learned is that somedays, we inexplicably end up back in it. and that sucks.

because we just spent months clawing our way through the bugs and the earth. because our soldier-hands have finally breached the surface. because the sun is finally caressing our hell-fresh faces. because for the first time in months we feel like we can finally breath. and then, suddenly, we're right back in the terrible thick of it.

those days make it feel like I'm sisyphus and grave dirt is my rock. or like I'm prometheus and the darkness is my eagle.

but then it's tuesday.

which is to say my brother died on my 25th birthday, a monday. and that day is now a memory that's fuzzy around the edges. single snapshots I know are connected, but I couldn't tell you how. I remember my mother standing in my bedroom and tears and family and phone calls and cleaning my living room because I didn't know what to do with my hands. I remember going to my grandmothers and my phone vibrating off the table and leaving to go get coffee because I couldn't sit still. I remember joking, trying to joke. trying to do whatever I could to make sense of that impossible day. I remember checking my phone and reading and rereading the messages, a mixed bag of congratulations for surviving another year and condolences that my brother didn't, I remember not knowing how to respond to any of them. so I didn't. I remember being surrounded by so many people doing nothing but extending love and kindness to me and never feeling more alone. the world was ending and I was alone. I thought that day would go on forever.

but it didn't.

it ended, as all things do. monday was over and my first day as an only child was done.

and suddenly it was tuesday. and everything was different but also exactly the same.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead. I was so heavy when I woke up that first tuesday. so heavy and confused. I thought the world had ended. it surely felt like it had. but it hadn't. because the world couldn't have ended on monday.

not if it was tuesday.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead but the world wasn't ending. monday should have been our demise, but it wasn't. and it hasn't. and it won't. because just as sure as we have mondays, we'll always have tuesdays.

that's something I've taken a strange comfort in, knowing that we'll always have tuesdays.

the feeling never stops. but I think that's okay. because you're only feeling that way because there was love first. and as much as what I felt on that first tuesday hurts, as much as it suffocates, as much as it consumes, I'd take the hurt and the suffocation and the consumption because the love I felt first will always, always be worth it.

tuesdays will always be worth it.

like yeah, if I loved less, it wouldn't hurt this bad. but I don't want to live in a world where I have to love less. where I was loved less.

I'll take the pain. I'll take the grave days. I'll take the rock. I'll take the eagle. I'll take apocalyptic, earthshaking mondays. I'll take every last wretched bit because goddamn what a miracle it is to love so bad it hurts this big.

I hold that love, his love for me and my love for him, a love that's now become our love in the cage of my ribs while I'm in the cage of the grave. and I dig.

it's monday and I dig.

I dig.

and then tuesday comes.

#asks #long post #grief #cw: death #hope this helps some way

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nsharks · 1 year

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part eight —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let's see how this trip goes

A neon-yellow lighter. A comb with a few teeth broken off. A deck of cards. That is what you have scrounged so far in this little convenience store that Blue convinced Ghost to stop in— the only stop in the village he will allow on the way to the military base. She spotted a rack of magazines from the window and the child in her begged him.

Fuckity fuck, Ghost. Please. Please. Please.

You’ve decided to sweep through the aisles to make this forced trip at least a little worth it for you. Broken glass and dust lay under the soles of your boots. All the food in here is gone, of course. The lighter you found can be useful.

Oh. You also found a corny romance book. You are in need of something to read, too. You left behind your old copy of A Farewell to Arms. You imagine that it was flattened to something unrecognizable by the mass of Greys.

You go to the aisle for toiletries. Again, these shelves have been licked almost clean. You fish your hand all the way to the back to see if anything could be there. You didn’t have time on your first trip to do much searching for anything other than medicine.

What your hand manages to knock against is a box. You pull it forward to inspect it. Gold packaging. Faded letters. It’s a box of condoms. First, you feel annoyed. It is useless to you. Expired, anyway. But then some memories come to mind along with a stir in your stomach.

Sex. Right. At one point, these were useful to you.

What you had told Blue the other day was mostly the truth. Coursework and exams meant that a steady relationship wasn’t on your mind back then. You were too young for it, anyway. You liked going out. You liked dancing with your friends. You liked meeting new people and sipping on drinks that were sweet enough to go down without a wince.

But what you didn’t tell Blue, and what you haven’t thought about in a long time, is that the last guy you had sex with was a little more than just someone you enjoyed the company of.

You trace your finger over the letters on the box, recalling the buried memory. A few weeks before the outbreak, you met him at a pub. He chatted you up. He was kind-eyed and sleek. A few years older than you. A jaw like the man in Blue’s magazine.

You didn’t even go home with him that first night. You just spent hours talking. And then texting. And then he took you out to that sushi place you loved in London three times because he saw that you were obsessed with the sashimi. He teased you for it. Finally, he invited you to his flat. He was different. He didn’t touch you until you touched him. You can remember it, that last time. The kissing. You whispered in his ear to take you to his room. He pulled out a box of condoms just like this.

The morning of the outbreak you remember telling your sister you might want something more from him.

She was thrilled to hear it.

There were a few people you texted that day to see if they were okay. Your parents, some close friends, and him. You never got a response from any of them. As you fled with Paul towards the forest, you’d dropped your phone. You only realized it later than night when you wanted to take it out and read over your old messages with him as a source of comfort.

Anyway, he was never your boyfriend, and he is now likely dead. Or Grey.

You haven’t thought about him for at least three years. Just another singed thread of an old life, unimportant to you now. Those losses are easier to deal with than the losses you had to actually witness.

You are just about to put the box back when a poke arrives on your shoulder.

“Hey, Twix, look what I found.”

Blue holds a solid stack of magazines against her chest. In her other hand, she holds up two bracelets with plastic, pink beads on them.

“Bracelets,” she smiles. “One for you and one for me.”

You raise a brow, then glance around. You spot Ghost at the front counter stuffing his backpack with cigarettes. His own treats, you suppose.

You look back at her. “Are you sure?”

She nods and offers one to you. As you slip it over your wrist, subconsciously hiding it under the sleeve of your coat, she says, “One of the books Ghost read to me talked about friendship bracelets. That can be this for us. I mean— we’re friends, right?”

“Oh. Um. Do you want to be my friend?”

“Well,” she slips her own bracelet on and waves her hand about, “Grim is my friend and he never saved my life before or gave me chocolate. So—” her voice turns hushed as if sharing a secret, “—I guess you are a better friend than him, huh?”

You bite a smile. “I guess so.”

Then, her eyes drift to the box still in your hand. “What did you find?”

“Huh?” You raise it up, almost having forgotten about it, and feel a warmth spread over your cheeks. “Oh, nothing, really.”

“What is it?”

“I-I don’t know, actually,” you splutter quickly.

“Maybe Ghost knows.” She rounds her lips as if ready to call for him but you shush her.

“No, no. Don’t ask him."

“Why not?”

“Because he—” you slide your eyes around, looking for the right excuse, “Because he doesn’t care for me, okay? I don’t want to bug him.”

“It’s not that he hates you or anything,” she assures you, sighing. “He just doesn’t trust you. Really, he isn’t so bad. He let you play would you rather with us, right?”

She is referring to the game that consumed the four-hour walk to get here. As you stepped over the same tree roots from your first journey, Ghost and Blue began a rather dark game of would you rather. Asking each other which gruesome death they would prefer. A humor she must get from him, you figured. Blue finally asked him: Can Twix play, too? He flashed you a look, jaw stiff, and you wanted to hide as you watched his eyes process this new name his daughter has chosen for you. To your surprise, he allowed it. Maybe to keep her calm, entertained, or both. You can’t say it wasn’t awkward for you, though.

Before you can protest again, she calls his name, and you regret not just telling her what they are.

He is quick to make his way over.

“Twix found something but she doesn’t know what it is,” Blue chimes, taking the box from your hand and passing it to him. You inch backward, your spine pressing into the shelves as you watch him realize what it is. Then, he offers you an unreadable glance, probably wondering why the fuck you would be looking at these.

His eyes shift back to her.

“Well,” Blue clicks her tongue. “Is it useful?”

“No.” He hands it back to her.

“What is it? Do you know?”

“Jus’ nothing useful,” he repeats, and she huffs, giving you an apologetic look and mumbling a sorry before tossing the box back on the shelf.

“Got ‘em all picked out?” He nods to her magazines.

She nods. “Yeah, I found some good ones.”

“We’re leaving, then.”

A clear sky hangs over your heads as you continue moving south. On your solo trip, you spent hours perusing Ribchester's streets, whereas now Ghost cuts right through, wanting to search the base before nightfall and then find somewhere safe to sleep.

There is no rain today, luckily. Even though it helps conceal your human scent, it also helps hide their rotten one, making it hard to detect them. It also can make shooting arrows trickier.

There is a light wind that howls like a moaning widow through the empty buildings, drowning out the sound of all three pairs of booted footsteps. Just as you told Ghost, there aren’t many of those fucks here. Their smell lingers in the air but most of them are probably trapped in the buildings and cars. Still, you keep your bow armed and Ghost clutches his handgun. Only one finds you here, but it isn’t much of a threat. A slow and pitiful one with a twisted leg that drags as it clambers out from an alleyway.

It catches the human scent, its pale eyes pointing toward the three of you.

They love the smell of living flesh. From your experience, they love the smell of fresh blood even more, but luckily none of you are bleeding, or else more of them certainly could've been drawn out like cockroaches.

Upon one look at it, you can tell this Grey must have been infected years ago, a woman tattered without any hair left on her skull. The thing is, the longer they have been infected, the longer their muscles have been rotting away. They grow slower.

For some reason, Ghost doesn't pull the trigger of his gun even though you know he sees and smells it like you do. He doesn't even reach for the axe tucked at his waist. You have never encountered Greys with him. You suspected he'd be quick to kill them. Confused, you aim your arrow and close one eye for precision, but a firm hand falls on your arm and forces you to lower it.

You give him a furrowed look.

He drops his hand and nods to Blue, who has been sticking close to his side.

"All yours, kid."

"Do I have to?" She puckers her lips in disgust and touches the fabric of his black coat.

"Good practice for you."

"With my knife?" she sighs dutifully. "Or the gun you gave me?"

"Knife. Save the ammo.”

The Grey is still a few paces away, but slowly trudging closer, enough that its flayed snarls sound over the wind.

Blue pulls out the knife from her pocket. You stand back and watch as she hurls it towards the head, but the blade pierces its neck instead, splitting the stringy flesh and exposing a larynx.

She winces.

"S'okay. You've got another," Ghost says.

She nods and reaches for the second knife strapped to her ankle. This time, her knife finds the skull, audibly cutting through bone and brain.

“Good. Now go get ‘em.”

You understand why he made her practice this. They don’t encounter them often in the forest, but he still wants her prepared— get her used to doing it on her own for the day she might not have him there. It is a reminder of what it means to be a parent in this world, and you don’t envy him for it.

Blue twists her knife out from the skull, some chunks of grey brain bubbling out, and she scrunches her nose but doesn’t seem too bothered. Before she runs back over, she mouths words to it just as you have seen her do to the dead animals. You can’t make them out.

“Sometimes I wonder what it’s like being one of those fucks,” she announces as you keep walking. She taps a finger to her temple. “I just wonder if you still remember your old life or have dreams and stuff. Or does your brain just not work at all?”

“They aren’t people anymore,” Ghost reminds her gruffly.

“I know, I know.”

“I don’t think they have dreams,” you quietly add. “They don’t sleep.”

“But maybe they are sort of sleeping,” she says. “Like sleepwalking. And maybe they are dreaming the whole time about things they remember from being a human.”

“No,” Ghost says. “They’re as good as dead. Don’t go thinkin’ like that.”

“I’m not saying I feel bad about killing them. I know they aren’t real people anymore,” she mumbles, kicking at a rock. She looks at you. “Twix, what would you do if you got bitten?”

Ghost mutters a Jesus Christ under his breath.

The question throws you off, even though it is something you have mulled over often. You hesitate, before honestly answering, “I think I would just kill myself.”

“Ghost would, too. Well, actually, our plan is for me to shoot him in the head and then run back home. Right, Ghost?”

He hums his response.

It must be a plan he reviewed with her before leaving.

A plan that he has ingrained into her brain from an age too young to fully comprehend the potential reality of it.

There are another ten kilometers to walk to get to the military base. The sore toes cramped in your boots and the growing blister at your heel wishes Ghost took the truck, but whatever his emergency plan is, it must call for every drop of fuel he has.

The terrain transforms back to soil and trees as Ghost departs from the road, and the rotten smell in the air remains faint. The game of would you rather resumes, but Blue quickly grows bored of it. Instead, she begins to poke at you with some questions as she likes to do. She seems to be more comfortable doing it in front of Ghost. It’s not like he can keep her away from you out here.

“So, Twix, how old are you exactly? You never told us.”

You tell her.

“Shit balls, Ghost,” she nudges a hip to his side. “You really are an old man.”

“Fuckin’ hell. I’m not.” He nudges her back, a bit too hard, because she practically stumbles, but it only makes her laugh more. “I’m just your old man, kid.”

Luckily, her questions stick to the minute things, and she doesn’t bring up sex again. Your favorite animal. If you have any tattoos. You should see how many Ghost has. Of course, you have only ever seen the skin of his hands a few times and the skin around his eyes.

The sound of rushing water is what quiets her.

You make it to a river.

Ghost leads you to where a bridge must have been on his map, but all that remains of it is a narrow beam of rusted metal and nothing to hold onto.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Dad.”

Blue peers down the cliff and you take a look with her. The water isn’t moving too fast, but it must be freezing, and walking around in wet clothes is a sure way to get hypothermia. Ghost doesn’t have much of a choice.

He has her walk close in front of him and keeps both hands firm on her shoulders. You don’t have anyone to help you. You tighten your core to keep yourself upright, watching each step you take. Right, left, right, left. The wind dissuades you with nudges against your left side. You pause for a moment and look up.

They are already across.

You hear Blue shout just as your left foot slips. Air whirls around you and your arms instinctively jut out to grab hold of the beam. You hang from it, breathing hard from your nose. Your bare hand clutches the sharp edge and earns you a cut into your palm, but the pain is easy to ignore. Your ears ring. You muster all your strength to hoist yourself up, but it’s not quite enough, and you almost lose your grip.

Hissing, you look down at the water that laps between rocks beneath you. Maybe you should just fall in. Your skin prickles as you imagine the icy water engulfing you and soaking your clothes.

Hypothermia. Another real threat in this world. You recall the chapter from one of your textbooks. It can set in quickly. There wouldn’t be enough time for you to make it back to the village and search for dry clothes. You should’ve brought your extra pair of old ones. You didn’t even think—

What ends up engulfing you is warmth.

You are pulled up with ease and drawn close to a hard chest. Ghost locks an arm around your waist to steady you and naturally, you lean into his hold, your boots finding their place again on the beam.

You pant. For a moment you just stand there, before you start walking again, this time with him close behind you as he holds your shoulders just as he did with Blue. Because of the proximity, you can detect the rise and fall of his chest against your back. Underneath his thick coat, the muscles of his core are tightened just as yours are in order to keep his balance.

He couldn’ve just let you fall. Blue must have asked him to help you back up.

You find your voice when you are almost across. Blue watches with her hands tucked in her pockets.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

What he tells you, warm brass in your ear that arrives in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard from him: “Don’t become a liability for me out here, Twix.”

It unnerves you, the message that lies in his words. What he means to say is he has no problem leaving you behind if he has to. Letting you die.

But what unnerves you even more is the shudder that hums through your spine from the soft drawl of his voice in your ear, uttering this new name for you when he has never even once used your real name, and the way that his filtered breath works its way down your neck. Even though he has growled threats of murder in there multiple times, you find yourself not minding if he has a few more to offer just so you can hear his voice like this again. So quiet. Probably so Blue doesn’t hear.

But he doesn’t offer anything else.

Maybe you are just in shock. Maybe you are just glad to not be freezing, and his warmth has given a confusing relief. You swallow the strange thought and find a nice burial spot for it next to your grief.

When your boots make it to the soil, his hands drop and you turn around to face him. Annoyance finally finds you. Of course, his help arrives at the same time that he warns you of the limited supply of it he is willing to offer.

Through your teeth, you say, “I won’t.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #call of duty #zombies

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shamelessfaceless · 2 months

Text

Love, Pain, Death, Repeat

Navigation | Marvel masterlist | part II

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x F!reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Summary: Even death won't help you get rid off her and pain she caused.

Warnings: Mentions of death, cheating, angst

Wc: 600

A/n: Just a fast sad blurb, hope you like this <33

Your mouth is dry, completely opposite to your eyes. Pinning Natasha to the ground you let your tears fall. It wasn't supposed to be like that, but after hearing what you needed to do, you were sure it was the time.

"Think about Yelena! Your facking sister! Think what would she say if I told her that you killed yourself!" You yelled at her though she was so close to you she would hear your whispers.

"And you? You have a whole life ahead of you! You're so young! You are doing what you need, you're nice and brave, you put others before you, you are a hero people need!"

"I don’t have anyone! Anyone! I spent last years crying in my room! People don’t remember me! I don’t even remember who I am."

"Y/N" She tried to change positions. You didn't let her. You couldn't let her.

"I am not enough. I never was. Everyone knows Black Widow or Iron Man or Hawkeye! Even she showed me I was never enough!" You were almost sobbing, your tears falling on Natasha’s suit. "She choosed fucking microwave!"

When you saw Wanda for the first time, you fell almost in the same second. Literally fell. You wanted to come closer, but your legs had other plans, and you fell straight into her arms. This made her laugh. That was the first thing that actually made her show positive emotions after her brother died. Most of the night spended in your room only talking changed into spending nights in yours and hers own room. After your old relationships you were negative about love, but you started trusting her, it meant so much for you. She promised you stars. It didn't take long for her to take interest in Vision. You trusted her with your whole heart, and all she did was break it. He was just a robot, you thought you didn't need to care about him. Maybe he was a little bit too nice to Wanda, but she wouldn’t fall for cold metal, right? Oh how wrong you were. After one of the missions, you came back to your room just to see her covered in hickeys that for sure weren’t yours. You just sat on the floor and told her to get out.

"You will meet someone else. Just give yourself a chance. For fucking sake, if you let yourself forget her, you will find true love and maybe have kids or cats." Russian was strong, you started feeling like your arms were going to give up.

"She cheated on me, and soon after she disappeared. Women always choose men." You said disgustedly. Your every relationships ended because they chose to be with men. "Tell everyone I loved them." You stabbed her hand to distract her.

You started running to the end of the cliff. Black Widow’s screams didn’t stop you. Just as you jumped you looked behind to see Natasha, she was so close catching you, just a few seconds and you would be still alive. You smiled to her wondering if she could see it, and closed your eyes. Last thing in your mind was the memory of one specific lazy morning with Maximoff. Morning when she promised you cozy life, no avengers, just you and her in a big house and kids.

…

Opening your eyes you expected to see your dead parents, not two young boys.

"Good morning my love." Your head snapped to the door of the room. Wanda stood there, width smile on her lips, her eyes shining a little bit with red.

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel #sad lesbians #wanda x you #wanda maximoff angst

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gallusrostromegalus · 9 months

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You ohhhandedly mentioned tessai livong through ww2 and… wow thats true there were a lot of characters that got a first row seat to both conflicts, even if only the second was really impactful on japans history. Does urahara, yoruichi, tessai, the vizored or any of the shinigami have any specific feelings on ww2/the nuclear bombs? I know its a wild fucking question but it literally just occurred to me and i cant stop thinking about it.

Yeah WW2 is an entire 5-chapter arc in the fic because apparently Kubo is from Hiroshima, and Karakura town is based on his memories growing up there. Stuff that happens during that arc:

The Soul Society's sole warning that something catastrophic might be coming is the arrival of an irradiated and enraged Coyote spirit from the Trinidad test site. It's up to Newly-appointed captain Komamura to calm it down and explain what happened, and Mayuri is able to work out that atomic weapons are real from it's descriptions. He gives Soul Society about a month before the humans drop one on a city.

Unfortunately, he's correct.

***

Urahara and the Visoreds use the fact that they're already dead to mitigate some of the damage from the bombing by walking into the epicenter and shoving carbon rods into the most radioactive points, stemming much of the radiation damage, but there's nothing they can do for the initial wave of destruction.

It involves going through a new gigai every trip and learning what if feels like to have the flesh actually melt off your bones, but Hirako Shinji and the other Visored are no cowards, least of all about Hard and Dirty Work.

Tessai makes Ururu and Jinta out of spare parts from Urahara's Gigai experiments to house a heavily damage Kitsune and Tanuki spirit pair from a shrine that was destroyed. Ururu is the Tankuki, and the older one- Jinta seems a bit more 'organic' because Tessai learned a lot making his sister, and because as a Kitsune, he's a better actor.

***

Soul Society is in major trouble though.

with the sudden influx of souls- first from the bombing, but then from the radiation sickness and the famine that followed, the living and spirit worlds are in danger of becoming unbalanced.

It's a Major Crisis!

Fortunately for them, people with sociopathy tend to operate really well during Crises, and I realized the reason Mayuri hasn't been fired or killed by the time Ichigo shows up is that when shit hits the fan, Mayuri's lack of emotional response to the suffering of others means he can buckle down and fucking DELIVER.

Expansions to the pocket dimension that the queue of incoming souls is housed in? He didn't sleep for two weeks to get it done on time, but there was more than enough room when the bomb dropped and for the few months after as casualties continued.

Emergency rations for all these incoming factory workers that know nothing about farming? Behold, Nutritionally complete meals that you can eat right out of the box! And smaller, friendlier ones for the kiddies!

Hell, the 12th division even makes instructional propaganda videos about how safe and tasty these new foods are, featuring The Grand Clown Himself, and distribution centers featuring his likeness, so Mayuri enjoys a peculiar popularity in the Rukongai, not unlike an off-brand and sometimes educational Krusty The Clown.

Just ah. Stop asking questions about the ingredients list.

***

"I'm not fucking killing civillians." Says Kenpachi when Yamamoto begins to bring up the historical method that the Shinigami have used to balance out sudden influxes of souls from the living world.

"Oh?" Yamamoto glares at him. "You have a better idea?"

"What's them big fuckers that come outta tears sometimes? Hundred feet tall, black, bird faces?" He asks, waving as he tries to remember the names.

"...Menos Grande?" asks Ukitake, who has gotten remarkably good at interpreting for the man next to him at meetings.

"Yeah!" Zaraki grins, patting his six-foot-tall colleague on the head like a small child. "You said they're like... combination creatures of a thousand souls each right?"

"Zaraki is correct." Pipes up Tousen, who is also extremely eager to not murder civilians and even more eager to absolutely fuck up the army of Menos Aizen has been gathering in Hueco Mundo. "-It wouldn't be *easy* but dispatching approximately Five hundred Menos in the next week seems much more doable and much, much more morally sound than killing five hundred thousand civillians. Sir."

Kaname can feel the curse nails on his back starting to bleed from Aizen's glare but he presses on.

"-There appears to be a significant population of them gathered on the far eastern edge of Hueco Mundo. It would probably take most of the 11th Division's forces but-"

"IKKAKU!" Zaraki is already bellowing out the door to his lieutenant. "TELL EVERYONE TO PACK AN EXTRA PAIR OF PANTIES, WE'RE GOING ON A HOLLOW HUNT!"

There is a distant but enthusiastic whoop form Ikkaku in reply.

"An excursion into Hueco Mundo is exceptionally dangerous." Unohana notes, voice placid as he returns to the table.

"-and? I don't do this job because it's safe 'n' easy." Zaraki shrugs.

Her neutral expression softens just a bit into a small, affectionate and perhaps ever-so-slightly lascivious smile. "May I suggest that a detachment of the 4th Division accompany the 11th? It won't make the work easier, but it will mitigate some of the risk."

Yamamoto groans, aware that the decision has been made for him.

"Fine." He grunts. "Take a detachment of the Ninth too, you can use that newfangled radiodar whatsit to keep me updated."

"Pardon?" Mumbles Kaname, slightly woozy from blood loss.

His circulatory situation is not helped when an illusion-blind-to-the-blood Zaraki grabs him about the middle and starts carrying him off under his arm in exactly the direction the 9th and 11th are not like a particularly bewildered purse Chihuahua.

***

Aizen... almost strays from his path.

The Hogyoku is slow and tiresome, his first plan to barrage Karakura with Menos to create the Oken is being trashed and actually being forced to work his job of Rukongai Management is- Well, it's reminding him just why he started this quest to Dethrone God.

What loving creator would make an afterlife of squalor, where the 'lucky' are cursed to outlive everyone they know and love? Not one worth worshiping, surely.

But actually being out here, setting up emergency food distribution, implementing the latest in civil engineering from the newly arrived and seeing it immediately improve the quality of life, uniting families and... actually helping people? it's making him question his path. Perhaps- Perhaps God is not some uncaring regent on a distant throne. Perhaps God is something that lives in all souls, a kindness and goodwill towards one's fellow man, and to spread the will of a loving creator, one must Act to Enact God's Will...

Gin Panics.

He has not spent the last 300-odd years dangling the Hogyoku in front of Aizen, stuffing him full of spiritual energy to feed to the machine that generates reality like he was fattening up a goose for Pate, only to have him give up his quest for divinity NOW.

He's gonna have to do something drastic.

He's gonna have to convince Aizen he was right all along, and that he needs to keep using the Hogyoku.

He's going to need to use Aizen's own Illusions against him, and convince Aizen that the souls of the citizens of the rukongai aren't worth playing a Benevolent God for. That the whole thing needs to come out and be replaced.

Sure, it's a dick move

but those are his specialty.

***

It's the night before the 11th and the two detachments are supposed to leave for Hueco Mundo, and Yamamoto's been doing some thinking.

He is also in Zaraki's quarters at midnight sharp. "Captain-General." Nods Unohana, pausing mid-activity to acknowledge him. "Bruh." Zaraki grunts to indicate they were busy. "I need to borrow Zaraki for an hour or so, and then you may continue." he says, and then steps back outside so the man can get untied and dressed.

"This better be good old man, I know you haven't been married for a few centuries but REALLY-" Zaraki grumbles, emerging and putting his sandals on. "Don’t worry, it’ll take twenty minutes tops, all you have to do is stand behind me and don’t hide your rage." Yamamoto explains. "-We'’re going to go see the central 46." Zaraki pauses mid-sandal, slowly looking up at him with an intrigued arch to his brow. "Yes, it’s forbidden." Yamamoto says, not tearing his gaze away from the moon above them. "-But I've received reports that the Central 46 has acquired blueprints of the... Device. Used in the living world earlier this month and I'm nipping this at the damn bud." Zaraki grins, and finishes putting his sandals on.

The Central 46 are alerted to the Presence of Yamamoto and Zaraki by the main gate to their district being kicked through the wall of the council chambers.

"Hello, Sages and Wise Councilors of the Soul Society!" The Old Man greets them as he steps through the hole he just made, and The Barbarian squeezing through after, sword casually over his shoulder. "Well isn't this a surprise, everyone here in a full meeting at One in the Morning on a Teusday!"

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" one of the head councilmen sputters, mustache bristling. "Shinigami are forbidden form this place, I'll have you both execu-!"

"Shut up." Yamamoto glares, and sparks fly from the corner of his eye. The hem of his Haori is starting to smolder and singe as well as he approaches the table the councilors are crowded around the blueprints from the living world.

"Now, we are all good and honorable people here." Yamamoto says, casually waving a hand in what would normally be a placating gesture but now only made his sleeve flicker as Ryujin Jakka grew hungrier. "-But I've been around long enough to know how Power corrupts."

"And we've all been exposed to a new, horrific level of Power."

"Oh, of course, you would never! It's unthinkable to sink to such a level!"

"...but it's been a few weeks. The initial shock has faded, and you're starting to understand the full toll of the destruction." he explains, strolling up, the diamond insignia on his back spreading across his shoulders as the Haori singes. Behind him, Zaraki is following with an unpleasantly carnivorous stroll, yellow eye lazily moving from face to face, taking stock of all those present. "...and you are perhaps developing a new standard of devastation and suffering to wish upon your enemies."

There is some muttering, some protesting, and worse, some agreeing. They are silenced by a sudden electric crackle of Energy from Zaraki.

"I’m just here to tell you all-" Yamamoto continues, unperturbed. Or perhaps so perturbed he's warped all the way around to a deep, ruthless peace.

"If I hear any ONE of you has taken steps to develop a weapon like this-" he points a finger at the blueprints, which singe and then burn, a low, slow flame that reduces them completely to ash.

"-I’m going to kill all of you."

"Actually," he explains, as the blueprints finish burning and the table catches as well, fire blooming and crackling, lighting him from beneath. "I’m going to kill all of you and your families. By which I mean, I’m figuring out who all your ancestors were going back Five generations, Kill them, and kill all their descendants."

The table burns, and the floor is threatening to catch, but nobody can move to ring the fire alarm or grab a bucket of water.

"-Because that’s the kind of indiscriminate destruction these things cause." he explains. "It's a damn shame to say this, but this is the first time we've been able to settle whole families in the same town- because five, six, even seven generations of families, from great-great grandmother to the newest infants were burnt together in an instant."

"So if you want to wield that kind of destruction, you best be prepared to deal with those kinds of consequences." he growls, and suddenly sweeps his hand over the fire, which snuffs out immediately.

Slowly he turns to go, and regards Zaraki behind him.

"Oh, and just in case any of you had thoughts of hastening my retirement in regards to this matter-" he speaks up, and points to Zaraki "-Near as I can tell, this asshole is immortal and indestructible, so if I happen to be dead, he'll do it for me, won't you?"

"Yes, sir." Zaraki Nods, eye fixed on the head councilor, committing his face to memory, blade and crackling eagerly.

"-and he's nowhere near as speedy and clean a killer as I am, so I suggest you don't test either of us." Yamamoto grins, and Ryujin Jakka can't help but flicker off his brow for emphasis.

"Goodnight, and go fuck yourselves." Yamamoto bows, and exits through the same hole he entered.

The walk back to the 11th is largely silent, but Yamamot can feel the pleased-yet-curious thrum of reiatsu from Zaraki.

"Question, boss-" he suddenly speaks as they approach the 11th.

"You're not supposed to question orders, Zaraki." He sighs. He'll make a proper shinigami out of him. Eventually.

"...Request for clarification, Boss-" Zaraki tries again, and Yamamoto nods. "-Why me?"

Yamamoto arches an overgrown brow at him.

"Not complainin'-" Zaraki explains, pointedly looking up at the moon and scratching his neck in deferment. "-But Byakuya's got more sway with them and Gin's definitely better at terrifying first impressions."

"Hm." Yamamoto nods. "It's in the follow-up, not the impression, you see."

"I do not." Zaraki says. For all his faults and frustrations, Zaraki sure keeps Yamamoto on his toes about not being lazy and actually explaining himself.

"-I am very serious about you killing them and their descendants if they ever think about making one of those devices." he sighs and Zaraki nods, waving a hand for him to continue. "-So I picked the Shinigami most invested in a peaceful future to make sure my orders would be carried out."

Zaraki still looks confused.

"You're my only captain with children, Zaraki." Yamamoto explains. "I know you only give half a rat's ass about the court guard, but I've seen what you'll do for Yachiru."

Zaraki nods understanding now, and a few more paces of silence pass between them.

"...Thank you, Sir." Zaraki mutters, bowing his head and using the honorific with genuine intent for the first time since Yamamoto had known him. "-For understanding."

"Thank you, Captain Zaraki." Yamamoto nodded slightly, stopping before the gate to the 11th. "-For understanding as well."

"-Now get back to Captain Unohana before she schedules some sort of blood test of a thousand needles for me!" Yamamoto grunted, prodding at Zaraki with his cane, and the man didn't need to be told twice.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #zaraki kenpachi #mauyri kurotsuchi #kisuke urahara #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #kaname tousen #retsu unohana #long post

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suzukiblu · 1 month

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WIP excerpt for yesdangerpls; the last son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

“A version of you was conquering alternate realities,” Bruce says, still neutral.

“Uh,” Kon says, looking embarrassed. “Kinda, yeah? Kinda definitely, actually. I mean–dude had some issues. His home reality wasn’t really all that clone-friendly, and shit kinda went to shit there, and then he just decided ‘actually killing inconvenient people is ethically okay if I just make clones out of their dead bodies and give those clones their memories after’, so, uh . . . issues, like I said. Serious ones.”

“And you don’t think that’s ethical?” Bruce says, which is an obvious test. Kon glowers at him as Clark resists the urge to sigh at Bruce. The man’s as paranoid as ever, no surprise. It’s . . . understandable, admittedly, but not exactly fair in this situation.

“Clones are their own people,” Kon says, setting his jaw stubbornly. “No matter whose memories you stick in our heads.”

“That’s a school of thought,” Bruce says neutrally. Kon scowls, then pointedly lifts his lassoed wrist.

“You’re an asshole,” he says emphatically. Clark has to muffle a snort of laughter behind his hand; Diana does the same. Bruce looks sour. Clark knows he doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough, but he just can’t look at this kid and see a threat.

Of course, that’s part of why Bruce doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough.

“And you’re asking for a lot of trust, for someone who’s reportedly an interdimensional conqueror in at least one reality,” Bruce says. “Why should we believe this version of you is any different from Black Zero?”

“For the record, it was a version of me that stopped him, too,” Kon says, still scowling at him. “Like, a whole bunch of versions of me. And we didn’t all survive the experience. So I dunno, democratically speaking I think I’m mostly not a shithead.”

“And you don’t know how to return to your home reality?” Diana asks. Kon grimaces, then shakes his head.

“No idea,” he says. “I only got out into Hypertime to begin with because another Superboy showed up in our Watchtower with a hyperjacket keyed to his DNA and, uh . . . crash-landed and died right in the middle of a JLA meeting, actually. He was–injured, when he made the jump. Didn’t survive it. He was with the resistance. Was trying to warn our reality that Black Zero was coming, but . . .”

Clark feels immediately nauseous at that thought; wonders how traumatic and horrible it was for his alternate version to watch that happen and not be able to save that version of Kon. Wonders if that Kon’s version of him even knows what happened to him. If . . .

He tries not to think about it. It’s not something he can do anything about.

It’s definitely motivating him to get this Kon home all the quicker, though. His other self must be losing his mind right now.

“Satisfied?” he asks Bruce, raising an eyebrow at him again. He’d be amused, a little, if he weren’t still thinking about what had happened to that other version of Kon: about a kid that young dying far from home trying to do the right thing, surrounded by a roomful of heroes who couldn’t save him.

“No,” Bruce says.

“Batman, there are multiple realities in which all of us are supervillains,” Diana says wryly, unlooping her lasso from Kon’s wrist and winding it up again. “We can hardly blame Kon-El for the crimes of a single version of himself.”

Bruce has a look on his face that makes it very clear that he does, in fact, think they can do that. Bruce also thinks that about them, though, himself included, so Clark isn’t going to give that concern particularly heavy weight right now.

#yesdangerpls #wip: the last son of krypton meets hypertime kon #long post

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betweenblackberrybranches · 4 months

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In rlgl au how did Y/n meet Moon? What was their reactions?

Okay lil RLGL AU writing

They met a few times after the first "disastrous" meeting y/n had with Sun but Moon never really interacted past a nod and y/n had the biggest inner conflict about not wanting to interact and not wanting to be too rude... but then there was the time y/n and Moon had their first actual conversation...

Lugging the heavy grocery bags up the last flight of stairs you immediately noticed him. A tall figure stood hunched over at the Door to the neighbouring flat, clad in what you could only assume was a half-undone night gown, the kind of amalgamation of sheer and ruffled lilac fabric you imagined rich widows with a suspicious number of dead husbands wearing. You knew him, recognizing him immediately, the dark blue silicone casing of his arms and legs and the signature star riddled night cap being a dead giveaway, though now the hat was being held up in a kind of loose bun by a hair clip. The way he apparently treated the piece of clothing like some kind of hairdo instead of simply taking it off made you smile a bit into your scarf. Your approach startled the Robot, who uncomfortably shuffled further into the corner, giving you room to go further, there was a moment of awkward silence as you approached the door of your flat, his posture only showing more uneasiness. You feel a heaviness in your stomach as you fish for your keys in the deep pockets of your jacket, feeling the eyes of your next-door neighbour on the back of your head. Is it too late to turn around and say hello? The moment for it to feel organic has gone by too quickly but you do not want to be too rude either. You still cringe at the memory of your first meeting with Sun, weeks had gone by but the feeling that they saw you in a rather negative light only solidified with every interaction. You should be happy about it, the fact that this dislike on their part kept them far away from you could be your saving grace, considering the strict rules of employee and escort interaction at Faz.Co. Especially because you didn’t know if they would follow the rules and go to management with this. You knew for a fact that Faz.Cos management didn’t mess around when staff and escorts interacted without permission, it didn’t matter if it was at work or in private, or if it was just an accident. The rules were in place for a reason, you knew that, to protect the integrity of the escorts, that was the wording used in the terms you had signed when starting to work there.

You sighed.

But it still hurt. Trying to be distant was not something that came naturally to you, even with the stress that came with interacting with others, you still liked making people smile, or at least not hate you, social anxiety be dammed. Seeing Sun making awkward small talk with you, obviously uncomfortable in your presence, and Moon completely shying away from interactions… You surely felt like a terrible neighbour, your chest hurting whenever thinking about making them feel that way. But what could you do, be all friendly and risk them taking a closer look at you and realizing that they had seen you before? No way. But at least saying hello should be fine, right?

For the third time you missed the keyhole, having zoned out at the inner debate of it being awkward or not to say hello this late after arriving here, when a small static noise caught you off guard, almost close to a frustrated sniffle. Head turning automatically towards him you saw the dark blue bot tapping at his phone, the upset clearly visible in his features, just hovering around the door, no keys in sight. You stopped, taking in what you saw for a moment pressing your lips together in an inner battle, he obviously had locked himself out of the flat, looking nervous and rather upset. Finally, your key found its way into the lock, and you entered your flat, a decision had been made, putting the frozen and cooled groceries away you berated yourself, grabbing your tool kit and bringing it to your front door you felt your fists clench. If you were lucky, he would be gone when you’d open this door, the situation averted by the solar bot arriving. This was a lose-lose situation. You obviously knew how to open these old shitty doors even without a key, but you worried, they might want to start interacting more with you if you did them a favour. Or terribly worse, they might start feeling unsafe in their own flat, knowing how easily these doors could be broken into, especially by you, the one neighbour they seem to be weary of.

You open the door, leaving the tool kit behind it as you step out. He is still there, looking up as you exit, his eyes quickly flit over you, stopping at your lack of shoes, he seems to realize that you were not taking a leave, but rather came out to talk to him, immediately as he turned towards you, crossing his arms defensively over his exposed chest, shifting slightly, maybe trying to adjust his robe inconspicuously.

You rub your neck awkwardly and gesture towards the door. “Locked yourself out?”

He gave a quick glance to the door and then back at you, with an unsure expression. “...Yea?...”

“do you uh.. need help with that?” you tried sounding as unthreatening as possible already noticing him fiddling with his hands nervously “Or you know, a place you can sit down to wait? If you want, of course, if you don’t want a stranger to help you with opening the door…”

Oh geez that sounded weird, you immediately regretted saying that part about being a stranger, not being able to stop yourself from blabbering on for better or for worse. “Or well maybe you don’t want help at all that’s fine too… just, you know, I do know how to open these doors….. not in a weird way tough just, you know for when someone well… locked themselves out”.

“heh” Moon made a noise almost like a humoured exhale, his shoulder having gone down a bit in of what could be seen as relaxation. “You know how to break into places? Should I report you or something?”

You halt, not fully knowing if this was a light-hearted joke or a threat. The moment of panic apparently very readable in your eyes as Moon gives you a look.

“I mean, I’d appreciate if ya didn’t?” You chuckle awkwardly “but it’s not like I can stop you”.

He hums as if in thought, “If I let you at it you’re not going to break the door, right?”

You give him a lopsided smile “I mean, yea that’s the goal, not breaking the door I mean, or the lock”.

He steps to the side, leaning against the wall, looking away awkwardly. “I- have something baking in there….”

You nod, so that’s a yes. You get the old paint spatula out of the toolkit that you had used to patch up some holes in the walls of your flat years ago, now it was the go-to tool whenever a door needed to be opened. Which used to be rather often because your last next-door neighbour before these two guys had been an elderly and often forgetful lady, having to be let in every other week or so.

Carefully you shimmy the spatula between the door and doorframe in a specific downwards motion and then give it a hearty smack, hoping that it would work at the first try and not embarrass you. The lock clacks and you press the spatula inwards while pulling the door outwards, closed. After a moment the door opened, and you let it swing inwards. You get up, seeing stars for a moment as usual and then turn to the bot who is staring at you wide eyed. “uh there you go..” You motion to the door, not sure if his reaction was on the positive or negative end of the spectrum, you add a bit of flair, doing jazz hands while grinning lopsidedly.

Moon snorted a bit, “You are a professional I see, well thank you, I’ll go look at my oven now, but yea, thank you…”

His leaving almost felt like he was fleeing the situation, but you didn’t mind. You just hoped he wasn’t freaked out after this. He had looked kind of cute in that robe though but you supressed that thought immediately, feeling like a creep for even thinking like that.

That evening someone knocked on your door and when you opened it Sun awkwardly handed you a plate with brownies giving you a half smile and immediately going back into their flat leaving you dumfounded. The brownies had a bit of an orange flavour when you tried them. Someone had tried to scrape off some burned corners and covered it up with powdered sugar but you still tasted the singed bits. You couldnt help but smile.

#fanf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca #daycare attendant #my writing #rlgl au #hi watch me making everyone in this funking awkward #a bit of y/n s inner conflict and moon trying to save his brownies #anyways have fun with this its not that good

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