#there is nothing left for him in his original timeline.

[jordanstark007]

Calex Kids 2/6

OC Character ~ Alec Cabot Novak

(The Detective)

(I’m gonna mess with the timeline here, so The Cabot-Novak Kids are present when Casey’s attacked in her office, Alex is still in Witsec.)

Detective Alec Cabot-Novak made her gold badge after collaring a rapist her putting herself in the line of fire to protect the victim.

She was given her gold badge and transferred over to Special Victims where the brass assumed she’d become less of a cowboy cop.

They were wrong of course, if anything her presence at SVU only worsened her bad habits, it only provoked her aggression.

Of course, when her mothers are involved the violence only worsened, she became erratic and outlandish.

She knew with money came affluence of course she did her mother was the sole heir to the Cabot fortune, an incredibly large sum of money that led to a lavish lifestyle and all the best schools for Alec and her siblings, as well as a comfortable cushion for her to fall back on should she need to.

What she couldn’t understand was the need to rape and murder when all you possessed all the money in the world.

Regardless, Alec was with her mother every step of the way, (per Casey’s request due to her mother large amount of knowledge that her daughter had inclination to fly off of the deep end.)

“Flowers.”

“You holding out on me?”

“No I’m not seeing anyone, not after Alex, maybe one of my kids was feeling generous, but if there from Jason Whittiker they’re going straight in the trash.”

Alec had been at home when Liv called, she’d woken in a haze answering the phone, but she flew out of her apartment in record speeds when she’d heard Liv telling her what had happened.

And God was she pissed. Of course her first stop would have been the hospital but she knew her siblings would have been there, her mother had a support system.

Her job was locating the bastard who hurt her mother. When Elliot saw who’d done it he’d immediately messaged Alec, and Alec was furious.

She’d kicked the door into his home and the look on Milan’s face, only fuelled her rage.

He stood as if he’d been expecting her, hands behind his back prepared for the arrest but Alec simply chuckled, dragging him from the building.

They made it to the outskirt of the city, Alec stalling the car at an abandoned warehouse, before dragging him out of the car, “Where are we?”

Alec smirked, a manic wolffish grin stretched across her face. “Somewhere no one will hear your screams.”

When they did finally arrive at SVU it had been at least a few hours since Elliot had let her know the identity of her mothers attackers and the beaten and bloodied face of their perp, was enough indication as to what had happened.

“What happened?” Alec shrugged eyes still blazing furiously,

“He resisted arrest, he’s lucky I didn’t shoot him.” Truthfully he had fought back and Alec had the defence wounds to prove it, but she wasn’t about to let everyone know shed been the original aggressor.

“Now I’m going to go see my mother-” Cregan had attempted to call after her, directing her to his office instead but it was futile and Alec was in the elevator before her name had left his lips.

“Hey mama, how you feeling?” Casey groaned lightly her hand grasping Alec’s as the detective sat gingerly at her bedside,

“What happened to your face.” Alec waved off her concern with a light smile,

“Its nothing Mama don’t worry about it. I’m more concerned about you, William says you’ll be alright to go home tomorrow, why don’t you come and stay with me for a while, just till your back on your feet?”

Casey wasn’t given the opportunity to answer when the police commissioner knocked on the hospital room door,

“Detective Novak, can I have a word.”

Alec near snarled at the sound of his voice, “You have some nerve, coming here. Get out.”

“Detective-“

“Get out, I won’t say it again.”

The man relented eventually nodding curtly, “I’ll wait outside.”

Her sisters hand graced her shoulder, Atlas’ expression soft, understanding, “Go talk to him Alec, we’ll be here, I’ve got her.”

She nodded slowly, standing, pressing a soft kiss to his mothers hairline, “I love you mama.”

When she stepped out of the room she was met with a number of the brass all staring at her with an expectant expression, “Are you suspending me?”

Lyle Morris, the Police Commissioner stepped forward, “We are putting you on temporary leave pending investigation.”

Alec nodded although she seemed to hold no guilt or regret in her expression, she simply handed over her badge and gun, “And for the record commissioner,”

The man nodded looking at her as she removed her gun, “I lost one mother, to a case where you all failed to do your jobs and protect her, if I’d have lost another, we’d be having a very different conversation right now. So if you’re going to take my badge and pension make sure you remember that this is the second time I’ve nearly lost a parent to a case, and it’s the second time I have stopped myself from pulling the trigger on the man who did it.”

Two weeks of unpaid leave later she was called in front of the Morris Commission, “Detective Novak, you’ve been called before the Commission to discuss your conduct, during the case involving ADA Novak’s assault, is there anything you’d like to say for yourself?”

Alec nodded walking over to the line of Brass, handing them the photos of his mothers injuries, “4 broken ribs, a torn ACL, a dislocated shoulder and over a dozen cuts and abrasions. Those where the injuries my mother sustained during the attack. My other mother ADA Alexandra Cabot was shot and placed into witness protection while prosecuting a case for SVU. I have no regret about the force I used while arresting the bastard who hurt my mother, and incase you missed it he resisted arrest and I have the documented injuries to prove it. I do this job to put away the bastards who prey upon those who cannot protect themselves, and if any of you here today can look me in the eye and say what I did was wrong then I know its my time to find another profession.”

I took no longer than a few minutes for them to reinstate her position, her rank and her badge.

And Alec walked away smiling, she had her badge back, and she could resume doing exactly what she had been doing for the past two years. Putting away the most sadistic of the population.

#alex cabot #law and order svu #casey novak #l&o svu #svu #calex #lgbtq #feral adas #feral detectives

[oblonger]

@sincerely-sofie

I wanted to write something that somehow involved the mortal mentioned in this post for a while. I personally prefer writing wholesome and angsty feels over action, so I feel like this needs a second draft. But I don't feel passionate enough about this specific one-shot to do so. Anyway, here you go!

Darkrai had won

Darkrai had obtained everything he'd ever wanted. Everyone in this world and beyond were recieving what they deserved...

Yet he was still unsatisfied.

Darkrai told Dialga, a pitiful legend at his beck and call, to allow time to flow through him, and only him.

Darkrai felt his heart began beating again. Breath entered his lungs. He could now move once more. He rose from his throne and traveled down the corridor. He could simply visit her nightmares whenever he wanted, but the sight of her true body filled him with glee.

The silence was wonderful, Darkrai looked through the massive window he had dug into this cave wall. Taking in the breathtaking scenery of a pitch black night sky. The few pokemon in view, locked in place mid fight. No doubt suffering the way he wanted them to.

Darkrai entered the dungeon he had been making his way towards. Chained to the wall, and asleep in a breathless nightmare, was Cresselia.

Well, not quite Cresselia. To be precise, it was the Audino that he brought with him when he struck her down. He never bothered to remember the Audino's name. He simply called her Cresselia as a symbol of regret, for ending the true Cresselia's life in a fit of shortsightedness.

Darkrai smiled as he entered into Cresselia's nightmare.

"Good evening Cresselia." Darkrai announced upon entering her dream, turning it from whatever endless torture he had put her in last time, into a completely featureless void. He was the only thing besides her in here.

The Audino uncurled from the fetal position and groveled at his feet. Muttering apologies and begging him not to hurt her.

Pointless.

"I'm hurt Cresselia. I put in so much effort into making the perfect nightmare for you... and THIS is the gratitude I recieve?"

Darkrai snapped his fingers and an explosion went off from directly beneath her. Launching her a fair distance from him, landing on her back. She continued to spout apologies as she looked at him with sorrow, agony and terror.

What a wonderful look for her.

"Apology accepted. Cresselia." Darkrai taunted.

The Audino flopped onto her belly, facing away from him. quietly bawling her eyes out.

"I have done quite a lot of pondering as of late Cresselia. And I wanted to get your input." She continued to cry. Hoping her lack of response would get him to leave her alone.

She knew it wouldn't, he knew that she knew that. But seeing her utterly pathetic attempts at resisting filled Darkrai with joy.

"Tell me Cresselia." Darkrai wickedly grinned. "Do you have a fear of blood?"

The Audino flinched. She turned her head back to face him.

Darkrai's smile widened. "I suppose that is a yes then, hmm?"

Darkrai used his powers over this realm to make his claws as jagged as rotting, rusted metal, and serrated as a Sharpedo's teeth. Cresselia fell from her side onto her back, and tried to crawl away while facing him. Once more asking for forgiveness and for him to not hurt her, or some other nonsense.

Darkrai used his powers to drag Cresselia closer to him. He didn't need to approach her when watching her efforts to escape in vain was so much more entertaining.

Once she was within range, she stopped crawling. Holding her arms up to her face to try and shield it.

"Oh come now Cresselia." Darkrai said in a mockingly upbeat tone. "You don't believe I shall go through all of this effort, and not let you see the fruits of my labor?" Darkrai rose a hand, and her along with it. Perfectly exposing her stomach to him, with her head locked into position to force her to watch. Her eyes being prevented from shutting.

She was crying hysterically as he raised his arm to give her comeuppance.

He began his first slash when he suddenly stopped, right before his claw reached her.

Something felt... off.

It felt like Darkrai's skin was prickling across his body. Was she trying to fight back with her powers? No. She stopped trying to use her abilities decades ago.

Darkrai was staring off into the distance. Trying to figure out why this prickling feeling was so familiar to him.

The feeling got worse, and suddenly he felt the presence of another legend near his body.

Impossible, he killed or sealed all of the problematic ones away...

Then, Darkrai remembered where he felt this feeling before. It was Celebi. But how? How did she escape her imprisonment!?

Darkrai left Cresselia's dream, not even bothering to begin a new nightmare.

His eyes shot open and he briskly turned around, just quick enough to register that there was a Focus Punch mere inches from his face.

He didn't have time to react.

The attack connected. Launching him into the wall above Cresselia. Intense waves of pain echoing through his body multiple times. The wind being knocked out of him. Darkrai fell to the ground, gasping for air. Had he been a bit weaker it would have KO'd him instantly. It had been several decades since he'd last felt pain, that his tolerance for it was at its minimum

He looked up, expecting to see Celebi with some mortal. A foolish ploy to try and usurp him.

It wasn't Celebi.

Nor was it a random mortal.

It was Grovyle.

But... it couldn't be.

He knows it cant be him because he killed Grovyle personally.

The passage of time closed behind him, the lack of blinding light allowing Darkrai to better see his assailant.

It was Grovyle. But he was different. The leaf atop his head was incredibly long, dragging across the floor. The seeds that Sceptiles have on their backs were on his. His skin slowly shifted between lighter and darker shades of green.

But what made Darkrai realize who this was, was seeing the two antenna atop his head.

The antennae of a Celebi.

Darkrai quickly stood himself up and launched forward a volley of Dark Void. He wasn't taking any chances.

Grovyle didn't even move as his fist began glowing again, charging another Focus Punch. The Dark Void opened beneath him and pulsed waves of energy into him. Grovyle stumbled forward a bit before opening his mouth and biting down on something kept within.

Darkrai recognized the distinct crunch that it made.

A Chesto berry.

Before Darkrai could hide in the shadows, Grovyle bolted forward, eyes burning with a rage that far surpassed his own, and punched Darkrai hard in the side of his stomach launching him across the room and into the side wall. Darkrai coughed blood onto the floor. He could feel his consciousness slipping.

He wasn't going to lose this fight. HE DESERVES TO HAVE THIS!

Darkrai sunk into the shadows. The darkness of the room allowing him to reappear wherever he desires.

Darkrai waited for his chance. He kept himself in the shadows, searching for an opening.

Grovyle's expression didn't change, but his posture straightened. His shoulders became slack.

Darkrai knew what he was trying to do. He couldn't be hasty. As much as he wanted to gore him right now.

Grovyle stepped towards Cresselia and with a quick slash of his leaves, broke the chains that were more symbolic than functional.

Despite that, Darkrai's wrath surged. How DARE he try and save her!

And what a fool he was! Because now that he's distracted, he can strike!

Darkrai shot out from one of the walls behind him, preparing a shadow claw. Although his pain tolerance was low, he was nothing if not more powerful, one clean strike and this fool will be KO'd, allowing him to seal him away! All of his efforts in vain! He will be trapped forever! Just like this world's Celebi!! He'd won!!! HE HAD-

Darkrai felt true fear for the first time ever, when Grovyle locked eyes with him, as he moved his head very slightly to dodge the attack. Darkrai's claw missing his unblinking eyes by a hair's breadth.

Darkrai's last waking moments were of watching Grovyle unleash an X-scissor on him.

Darkrai awoke upon his throne. Everything hurt. Grovyle was crouched some distance away, rummaging through his satchel.

Not only had he bested him in combat, but he had also taken him out of the prison, and put him on his throne... LIKE SOME SORT OF TOY!!!

Darkrai launched forward, claws ready to splay this interloper's insides across the room.

Grovyle stood up straight, closing his satchel with no urgency whatsoever. And then he ducked under Darkrai's assault. His arm shot forward and grabbed Darkrai's forehead.

In an instant, Darkrai's entire body filled with an unimaginable pain. Darkrai fell upon his back and howled in torment. It felt like every fiber of his being was being burned, frozen, electrocuted and stabbed all at once.

He could see Grovyle staring at him with an intense anger... and what seemed to be pity.

The pain was too intense. It was bad enough that he hadn't felt pain in so long that he could only barely handle his body aching from the previous fight.

Once again, Darkrai passed out.

Darkrai awoke once more in the same spot he'd been in. The pain throughout his body having been dulled, except for his head, where it felt like it had been split in half.

Darkrai tried to lift an arm, but something was holding him down. Even his eyes felt sluggish. He looked around to see grovyle standing some distance off with his back towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a different pokemon, frozen in place. Too far for him to make out.

Grovyle moved his arm to drop a used, grey TM onto the ground. Making sure it was clearly visible to Darkrai.

"You know. My plan was to curse you with everlasting pain, and then seal you away." Grovyle suddenly broke the silence. His voice dripping with hatred. "So that way, you would suffer for the rest of eternity..."

"... But I realized something." Grovyle turned to look at him. His eyes burning with a fury unmatched. "I'm too nice for that."

Grovyle slowly began taking steps towards him. "At some point, I would feel guilty for doing that to you. No matter how much you deserve it." Darkrai wanted to attack him, but only his eyes were capable of movement.

It dawned on him what Grovyle had done, once he realized that his heart only beat twice since he'd woke up.

Darkrai tried to reach out to Dialga, demanding that he needn't any precision, that he could let time flow freely as long as Darkrai can move again.

... But there was no response.

"At that point, I would just come back and finish the job."

Grovyle crouched down on one knee and lowered his head to look at Darkrai.

"Death is far too merciful for you... But I'm a merciful guy."

Grovyle lifted a hand. a crackling orb of yellow-white energy formed just above it.

Hyper Beam.

Grovyle moved his hand and held the orb just above Darkrai's head. Right over where he had cursed him.

Darkrai's eyes stared straight into Grovyle, he used his psychic powers to speak with him.

"I hope everyone you ever love perishes."

Grovyle gave a disgusted chuckle.

"Too late."

Faster than an instant, Darkrai was dead.

#spoilers for the story in tags. #i personally like the idea that Legend!Grovyle hops from different ruined timelines #to try and fix them #after all. Dialga in his timeline can handle the time management. And Twig Kip Celebi and Dusknoir are long since dead #there is nothing left for him in his original timeline. #(thats what he was referring to in his last dialogue) #fanfic of a fanfic #text post #the present is a gift au #pmd eos #Mortality Exchange Au (kinda) #Darkest Timeline AU

[yauchfilms]

so american ✢ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!reader

warnings: none; just some silly shit, some swearing, google translate dutch, max's home race is belgium and not the netherlands for timeline related reasons

summary: y/n is teasing way too many things at once…..can the fans keep up? 

author's note: this is NOT an original concept i am aware of this. but this hasn’t left my brain in days. i’ve got a very specific vision so let me cook. i know i haven't posted on here in over a year but i've returned an f1 fan. enjoy!

yourname added to their story! 

liked by delwatergap, maxverstappen1, and 3,491,842 others

yourname: i think i'm in love with montreal. sorry i’ve been so off the grid but i am Loving Life so hard. so much inspo in my life rn. will talk soon i promise. love u all bunches 🫶🏼🌷

ynsbestfriend: hey queen you have done it again!

-> yourname: ugh i love you so bad

user1: UM BAE WHOS THAT IN THE LAST SLIDE?

-> yourname: beats me! 

-> user1: i do not trust you. 

lilymhe: hiiiii pretty girl

-> yourname: stop im blushinggggg

user2: i fear she’s in her lover girl era 

-> user3: girl help im so fucking scared right now what’s happening

user4: so does any of this have to do with your story from yesterday??????

*liked by yourname.*

maxverstappen1 added to their story! 

yourname added to their story! 

liked by honeymoon, danielricciardo, and 3,572,679 others

yourname: life's been a beach lately. clearly i've been loathing my time in spain ://///

user5: IS THAT MAX

-> user6: no bc it HAS to be

heidiberger_: Loved spending the week with you! 🤍

-> yourname: same!!!!!! let's do it again sometime 🥰

-> user6: NOT DANNY RIC'S GF COMMENTING?????? AND LILY MUNI HE ON HER LAST POST???????

user6: no bc even if her and max were dating and she's been traveling with him why have we not seen her in the paddock

-> user7: to throw us off our rhythm????

-> user8: what if they debut at his home race in spa ijbol

liked by landonorris, taylorswift, and 4,683,892 others.

tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and ynsbestfriend

yourname: hahaha felt like dropping 2 things at once on u guys LOLLLLLLLL. thank u to redbullracing, spagrandprix, and the city of spa for letting me and my friends crash the race the other week to film the “so american” music video, and to maxie for winning in ur home country. it was so fucking special to be there supporting u. i love u baby!

ps. another thank u to max for thinking i'm the funniest person in the world and making fun of my americanness for as long as i've known him (which is quite a while).

enjoy this tune guys. it's urs forever and i hope u love it as much as i love the person it's about 🫶🏼 🇧🇪 🇳🇱 TU DU DU DU!!!!!

user9: OH NMY GOD I FUCKING KNEW I SAW U IN THE GARAGE

ynsbestfriend: thanks for letting me third wheel mommy

-> yourname: no one else i'd rather drag along!!!

danielricciardo: Welcome to the family! Song's a banger although I can't believe it's actually about Max of all people 🤢 GROSS!!

-> yourname: jealousy is a disease danny.

user10: i actually cannot fathom this this is so me core

alexandramalsaintmleux: I am so glad to know you! Your happiness is everything 🩷

liked by sabrinacarpenter, carlossainz55, and 4,783,522 others. 

tagged: yourname and ynsfriend

maxverstappen1: Spent a week away in New England with my talented, gorgeous girl. Loved getting away and experiencing America through her eyes! Consider me an honorary American now! Also, stream “So American” wherever you choose. It's about me 😉 

yourname: does this mean i can stop hiding in the garage now???

landonorris: Happy for you mate! Love the song as well yourname 🤍

-> yourname: awe thank u lando 🥺 i got more to show u when i see u next!!!!!!

redbullracing: ❤️💙

user11: MAX IS IN HIS LOVER BOY ERA

danielricciardo: How many more times can you say American?

liked by charles_leclerc, chappellroan, and 3,694,849 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourname: nothing like celebrating the best 2 weeks of my life than showing my boy around ye olde stomping grounds #soamerican

liamlawson30: This is so American of him

-> yourname: like he fits in so well!

lydianight: u'll have him in the american flag board shorts in no time

-> yourname: baby steps :///

user11: she really is in her lover girl era 🥺

clairo: did you take him to the chipotle that is also a historic landmark downtown??

-> yourname: dude of COURSE i did. he said it was "interesting"

yourname added to their story! 

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #f1 smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #mv1 x reader #f1 texts #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au

[dcxdpdabbles]

First of all your writing is amazing 🤩🤩!!!

You give so much life to your writings.

So I've been seeing a lot of snippets that have Danny claiming Dani as his child and also somehow carrying the cores to her clone siblings. And I was wondering how you would depict that. Maybe with a Dan maybe not. He could be living with Vlad or maybe he had to flee Amity and gets found on the streets by one of the bats if he's in Gotham or Alfred is the one who brings home the stray. Maybe he's Bruce's kid maybe not. He doesn't even need to be in Gotham. Maybe it lines up with Lian and he somehow saves her (I forget what happens to her).

Danny had only been in the new dimension for about thirty minutes when a terrorist attacked. He had originally traveled there with them since Clockwork promised if he relocated in a timeline so far away from Dan. He would allow Dani- de-age to five though her mental state stayed the same- and the cluster of her clone siblings' cores to live.

Clockwork claimed that Dani and the clones were destined to be corrupted, causing more devastation and death than Dan. They would expand their mercenaries' attack across dimensions and timelines, wiping out millions and millions, and so the clock ghost had enlisted Danny to destroy them.

He had gone under the condition that they would leave Dani alone, but when Danny saw the clones' cores, something in him had not been able to kill them off. Seven of them rested in a nest-like ectoplasm cave, and even though they were locked within their cores, Danny could hear their little heartbeats.

Could sense the being within, resting like a child in a mother's stomach.

It sounded a lot like an ultrasound, but he quickly found out only he could hear them, for Tucker, Sam, Jazz, and Dani had only seen glowing egg-shaped targets. He had thrown himself over them, begging them to not harm the children.

Danny didn't know where the connection came from, but there was no denying that there was one. He had bonded with the cores, and he wanted nothing more than to care for and nurture the children that were forming within.

Clockwork's deal hung heavily over his head, but after speaking to his friends and family, he decided to move far away for the children. He would be a single father to Dani and her seven siblings, worlds away from everything he knew and loved.

It is Difficult, but other parents have left their home countries to try and give their kids a better future before. He could do it, too.

Danny would even share his natural ectoplasm with the cores to help them grow like a ghost incubator. Yes, it would weaken him, but no more than any other person who was pregnant, and he would not have to deal with mood swings or food cravings!

He bid his family fair well, taking with him funds from Sam and Vlad, and had hopped over. Dani held his hand, and his core children were safely tucked into his backpack in warm towels. They had five suitcases with them, taking their essentials - such as government documents Clockwork swore would be what that world used, clothes, food, and the few techs they could carry- and had stepped through the spinning portal.

He had stopped between the two worlds, turning back only once to wave goodbye and ignore the tears rolling down his face.

His mother had called out, "Don't look back, sweetie. If you do, you'll never be able to see your children in front of you!"

Danny had turned and not looked back again. He and Dani were dropped in what looked like a large city. The first thing he wanted to do for them was find shelter, so he wiped away his tears, helped a sobbing Dani clean her face, and then marched them away, hoping to find an apparent complex with a vacant room that would be open.

They had just been passing by a sweet of houses when the bombs went off. Dani screamed, throwing herself against Dani's leg as houses started to crumble around them.

For one heart-stopping moment, he imagined the cores shattered like eggs, shimmering against the red of Dano's squished body. Danny had dropped their bags, gathering Dani in his arms and flying to the closest shelter.

He invaded a house, pressing his daughter and her siblings against his chest as more and more bombs went around the city. With a cry, he threw the strongest shield he could muster around them, encasing his ectoplasm in ice, but still, the blasts rocked the house and tore apart the building. Trust Clockwork to throw them into a war zone!

"Danny!" Dani screamed as large bits of the ceiling fell onto the shield. It caused cracks on his shield, and the ghost boy gritted his teeth to strengthen them. He had just feed a lot of his power to the core not even twenty minutes ago. He's basically tapped out. "Danny, I think there is someone in the house!"

I don't care, Danny thinks ruthlessly. You and your siblings come first.

"Danny! I think it's a kid!"

Danny's tunnel vision of keeping his kids safe suddenly shatters as he registers the screaming. It's high pitch and frightened, someone young. It's coming from upstairs, just slightly above the rocking and booms of the city.

"Danny! I can't go ghost; you need to help them!"

But his kids-

"Danny, please!" Dani screams, looking up at him with her tiny five-year-old face and the burning protective core in her eyes.

He can't say no to that. With a flick of his wrists, Danny freezes the inside of the shield, encasing it a second time until only a small hole is left. He throws the backpack carrying his other children into his eldest's arms with a command: "Protect your brothers and sisters!"

He had to force himself and reach deep within to grab hold of what little Ectoplasim he had left, but twin rings of lights formed around him, shifting him from human to ghost. He could tell that the transformation wouldn't last. His limit is likely fifty seconds, but that's all the time he needs.

He flies through the hole, going intangible to the rumble and blaze, flying through the crumbling building until he spots a little girl humbled up and crying as the ground breaks underneath her. It feels as if everything slows down as she starts to fall, descending into the flames that burst around her- a bomb had been flung to the house, and it detonated upon impact- and Danny knew that if she hit the ground, she would die.

Danny knew what he had to do.

He would be cutting his transformation time, but it was a sacrifice well made. Phantom pushed everything he had into flying as fast as he could, reaching her just before her feet hit the flames. He curled his arms around her, pressing her to his chest and encasing her small body as best he could with his ice like a hastily made baby carrier. Then, he flung himself backward towards the first floor, where his children were waiting.

His vision started going blurry, and his flying was uneven. Intangibility failed him as rocks and fire slammed into his back. The little girl he rescued was protected from most hits, but he still curved around her, ensuring that if anything went to her, it would need to go through Danny.

They slammed into the shield, his ice retreating long enough for them to phase before the entire building collapsed. Danny hit the ground hard on his side, absorbing most of the impact as best he could for the girl, who was covered in inguires.

"Danny!"

Dani's horrified scream was the last thing he heard when the world faded to black.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No. No. No. No. no

Roy ran as fast as he could through the destroyed city, racing towards where his safe house and his daughter once stood. When the reports of Prometheus first arrived, he had known that Star City was among the target places, but when they showed him the map of the areas, his heart fell through his body.

He hadn't stayed for the briefing, had ignored the outraged cries of the heroes, and he knows he just hurt his chances of being in Justice League, but none of that mattered.

Lian needed him!

He heard Dick and Jason not far behind him, likely noticing the same thing on the map, but he could barely think as he leaped over destroyed buildings and rescue crews. He almost had no idea where he was; nothing looked the same, and dust and devastation were everywhere.

Only when he spotted a lump of crumbling wood and rocks he realize this was supposed to be his street. The broken building before him was his house, and it had been wiped from the face of the earth.

"Lian!" The scream that was ripped from him was inhuman, grief-stricken even as he crumbled to his knees, trying to push the wood out of the way to reach his daughter. "Lian! Daddy's coming. Danny's here! Hold on!"

He threw everything out of his way, desperately clawing at the heavier bits, but even as he spoke, his sight was blurry from his tears. Dick and Jason quickly helped him, letting pieces and moving stones with steady but sadness clouded their faces.

He's seen those particular expressions on the Bats before. It was during their search and recovery missions.

They were looking for a corpse.

No. no. no. no. no Please not my little girl

"What is that?!" Jason called out, pointing to a large caved-in roof with a faint green glow. Roy looked up, half numb from everything, to watch Dick and Jason push the roofing off with a grunt of effort.

A dome of glowing ice appeared, and he could make out the three figures inside it. The ice cracked, shattering as Roy stumbled towards it, eyes unfocused.

Then his gaze sharpened when his daughter's tear-covered face turned to him. She held out her hands with a sob, " Daddy!"

"Lian!"

He raced towards her, stumbling over a few steps, but he had his daughter in his arms, warm and safe and, most importantly, alive.

"Daddy, the alien saved me!" Lian said, "He's hurt!"

Roy can bring himself to leave his head from his daughter's hair, but he hears Dick take control, racing over to the alien that was crumbling on the ground.

"Stay away!" a young voice said- which- was the alien a child? He peaked one of his eyes up, only glazing at the sight of a body and a little girl hunched over them in a defensive posture.

"Hey, we mean you no harm. We just want to check on your friend there," Dick tells it.

"He isn't my friend, He' s my dad!"

"That's great. Does he need medical attention?" Jason said, stepping closer only to back away as the girl bared her sharp teeth. "We just want to help."

"You promise you won't hurt him?"

"We promised. He saved someone really important to us."

"You won't hurt my siblings either?"

"If we find them, we won't-

"They're right here with Dad. They just aren't born yet." The girl cuts him off, patting her father's back and the little bag.

Shit. The alien was pregnant? And he risked not only his own health but his unborn children for Lian? Roy doesn't care which side this alien is on, how they got to Earth, or what they planned to do.

He would protect them with their lives.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Cluster of Cores Au #Danny is Dani's Dad #Also he will have seven other kids on the way #Like snake eggs #dimension travel #Danny is nineteen #He saved Lian by accident #Now the arrows love him

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]

THE TIMELINE

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.

I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC

The gods were angry.

Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.

How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?

Stupid humans, foolish humans.

You didn’t understand.

But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.

The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.

One soul.

They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.

Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.

So they did something about it.

With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.

He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.

The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.

Bigger, heavier, more powerful.

You dropped your basket and ran.

Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.

You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!

People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.

“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”

The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.

The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.

By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.

As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.

Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?

You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--

Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.

Zeus had landed in Athens.

And you couldn’t find Steve.

Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.

A warning.

The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.

Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.

He had to find you.

The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.

And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.

Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.

He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.

Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.

Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.

Steve didn’t want to die without you.

He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.

A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.

Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.

Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.

You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.

He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.

A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.

Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.

But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.

Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.

The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.

Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.

“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”

A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.

You couldn’t feel anything.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington oneshot

[tojjist]

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

#syd.writes #if this doesn't show up on tags I SWEAR TO GOD #jjk #jujtsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk angs #jjk smut #mdni #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x reader smut #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru angst #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader fluff

[cleabellanov]

"But Lokius isn't even canon! Stop making everything gay!"

...

The Loki series isn't just about romantic relationships and shouldn't be seen as so. However, there is a lot of subtext. Maybe this ship is not canon, but it was intended to be seen as so by the fans.

If Lokius isn't canon, then why were the last two shots of the series showing Mobius and Loki?

If Lokius isn't canon, why would there be so much touching and scenes so physically close to one another? (believe me I know they're friends. that just offers a solid base for something more)

If Lokius isn't canon, why is there an OFFICIAL track named like that?

Why is said track played or incorporated in different scenes of the series? like

-the first McDonalds meeting with Sylvie,

-the back-in-time conversation with Kang

- the ASCENSION to the throne?

Why is the Sylvie and Loki kiss never mentioned, by the producers, in the series per se, or even in the season 1 recap?

Why is Mobius the only one looking at Loki when he leaves down to the temporal loom?

And the other way around, why did Loki only make eye contact with Mobius in that scene?

Why is Mobius the only one to notice there is something wrong when Loki is still trying to fix the Loom?

Why did Mobius/Don on the original timeline, mention he's single, trust a complete stranger, invite him for a drink, AND offer to sell him a quite personal jet-ski?

Why did Loki, the LITERAL GOD OF MISCHIEF stutter and fix his hair and coat for no one else but Mobius (who by the way is just a jetski salesman on that timeline)?

Why is the timeslipping Loki had to go through directed to Mobius twice, him being the the only one he doesn't need a TemPad to "recruit"?

Why would Loki bring up Thor and Jane if it wasn't to mirror him and Mobius? (because, as he already was talking to Sylvie, he certainly wasn't implying it's about her. They were arguing, AND Mobius was implied in the conversation. Loki defended him in front of Sylvie, in case you forgot.)

Why would Mobius's voice be the one to echo back to Loki on his throne? let time pass time pass time pass

Why the RAINBOW?

WHY DID LOKI LOOK AT MOBIUS RIGHT BEFORE THE FAMOUS LINE "IT'S ABOUT WHO"? (important mention: Sylvie was behind him when he said that. why didn't he just turn around when saying it? nope, they know what they're doing)

Why is the shot cut to Mobi after Loki's "it was more about what I wanted" line?

Why the shot where 7 characters could've been showed (Mobius, Loki, Sylvie, B-15, Casey, O.B., Victor Timely) there are only 2: Mobius and Loki?

Why is Mobius the only one to tell Loki he can be someone good, and the first one Loki actually believes despite his tendency to do the other way around in the past?

Why does Mobius finally find insight, and reinvent his whole life at the TVA because Loki helped him do so? (they're not even the first Loki variant he faced, but something clicked this time)

Why does the bloody sleeve, representing Loki being hurt by Sylvie just because he "wore his heart on his sleeve" disappear on episode 2? (because he finally understands who he needs to be next to)

Why did Mobius risk his life on the first episode?

Why did Loki go to past Mobius for the final advice, not to the present one, not to Sylvie?

Why did Loki ultimately sacrifice his life for the ones he loves?

And why is Mobius left alone, with the door locked, after Loki leaves in the Loom's radiation?

Why would there be so much endearing looks, and smiles at each other, if not for a conscious acting choice?

Why why why why why if it isn't canon?

Nothing is for nothing. Especially in television, where everything counts from the light to the angles and the way the lines are spoken.

We don't need to see two characters kiss to know they are made for one another. In fact, I think implied canon is so much better for now, because it leaves free interpretation for the fans, and nothing to strike on for the haters.

Of course, that doesn't change the fact that the ending is still tragic, although it holds its sweet from bittersweet. But remember: there aren't tragedies without love.

#yeah that's my rant about these two because we can't just ignore how implied canon they are #there is probably much more I didn't grasp #loki series #lokius #marvel #mobius #loki #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston loki #comics #art #cinema #mcu #writing #fun #a tragedy #with nothing greek in it #midnights #miss minutes #sylvie #sylvie laufeydottir #frigga #odin #variants #lady sif #theater #time theatre #queer community

[armed-with-a-waffle-iron]

Bat Timeline vs Bat Publication Timeline

I kept my receipts and citations here. Also, I used cover dates.

Neat things I noticed:

Nothing much happened in Gotham until Robin arrived both in continuity and in print history. Sorry but your lone wolf Batman doesn't exist :P

Dick permanently becomes Batman at the same age Bruce was when he became Batman; 25. Kinda poetic if you ask me.

Babs was Oracle longer than she was Batgirl in both continuity and publication history!!

Completely forgot that Dinah was literally her own mother once upon a time. Weird stuff.

There's not enough Jason!Robin stories to fit the 3 years some fans claim he was Robin for. Also the 3 years idea doesn't work if you track Dick's age. My guess is he was originally younger than 15 when he died but DC aged him up so he could be an adult when he returned as Red Hood.

It's pretty clear that Helena's integration into the group began the expansion of this complicated "family unit". She set the precedent for those noirish vigilante work relations.

Tim has to be a vampire if he's meant to be 17 three whole very explicit in-continuity years after he had his 16th birthday.

Stephanie has basically been in this gig as long as Tim! And almost as long as Helena too. Proper seasoned ass-kicker who Damian should look to for pointers.

Also remembered that Cassandra's Batgirl run is the best thing to come out of Gotham in the early 2000s.

I dunno I think the One Year Later timeskip was just unnecessary.

Kate and Renee are almost as new to the vigilante gig as Damian!

Bat-adjacent Rose Wilson was said to be 14 during her first appearance around Year 15 so she's the same age Tim.

Not Bat related but Lian Harper's age works with my timeline so yay! Born early Year 14, she's 5 during Cry for Justice in Year 19.

I have a theory, based off of Batman #416, that Dick graduated high school at 17. He says he was Bruce's partner for 6 years and that after he was fired; he left college after the 1st semester, then moved around the country, had his own adventures, and "eventually" ended up with the Titans. Also, he was 21 during the Titans' 3rd anniversary (New Titans v2 #71) and 19 when he became Nightwing (Tales of the Titans #44) so the Titans (re-)formed when he was 18. This means he probably only turned 18 in the academic year he began college (or has a summer birthday). So he was Bruce's partner from ages 11-17, did his own thing for a while as he did in the 70s, eventually joined the Titans at 18, and became Nightwing at 19. Jason comes into the picture soon after Dick retires the Robin identity.

#“what's the point of a timeline; it's not meant to make sense that way; no one ages” STFU #the point of a timeline is solidifying that characters do age and that time is able to flow! Cuz time's an interesting theme to explore! #this is examining continuity as the literal history of these paper people and enabling them to grow (up) issue by issue #batman #bat family #batfam #dc comics #comics #timeline #bruce wayne #dick grayson #barbara gordon #dinah lance #jason todd #helena bertinelli #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #kate kane #renee montoya #damian wayne #robin #batgirl #black canary #huntress #nightwing #the spoiler #oracle #red robin #red hood

[beingsuneone]

Memories & Delusions

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

SYNOPSIS: Jason Todd is dead, you have to remember that; even if the newest villain in town is both incredibly sexy and reminds you of the boy you used to love.

FANDOM: DC

PAIRING(S): Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim

GENRE/AU: fluff, different timeline AU (not mentioned in detail but the timeline is different than canon), canon divergence, reader is kind of like Stephanie so NOT Bruce’s kids but she does live in the manor.

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood and injuries.

A/N: I could fs do a part two to this ;)

DEDICATIONS: Myself for having this idea for more than two years and finally getting it out in writing in some way

CREDITS: N/A

“Jesus Christ! Who the fuck is this guy, Batman?” You exclaim, panting hard through your mask; whoever this Red Hood guy is… he really knows your team's weaknesses. It’s disconcerting.

Weirdly enough, he’s left you mostly alone.

Bruce shrugs from across the room. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

It’s a blur of movement as Red Hood tries to attack mostly Bruce, only attacking Dick or you if you get in the way.

He’s said almost nothing since this fight started.

After a few minutes, Bruce sends a signal and jumps out of the half destroyed building; Dick follows and jumps out shortly after.

Leaving just you and Gothams latest criminal.

You’re about to turn to jump again, when suddenly your wrist is caught in Red Hood’s hand.

The familiarity of it makes you gasp and freeze.

He stares down at you, intimidating and silent through his red helmet.

Returning his stare, with as much fiery energy as you can muster, you try to pull your wrist away; His grip is like iron and you can’t.

“Don’t get in my way, Y/n.” He says, making your heart drop with the use of your civilian name. “I won’t choose between you and my goal.”

Your back is rigid and you’re breathing has stopped… if he knows your name, that means he probably knows everyone else’s too.

Fuck.

He finally lets go, brushing past your stiff body.

You’re too shocked to follow him.

….

“He knew my name, Bruce!” You say, feeling panicked. “Do you know what that means?”

Bruce nods curtly. “It means you aren’t suiting up until we’ve taken him down.” You try to protest but Bruce holds a hand up to cut you off. “It’s not up for discussion.”

You fidget with the small red pendant hanging around your neck, something you do whenever you’re feeling too many emotions.

It reminds you of Jason, the first boy you’ve ever been in love with and also the last; Jason was also Bruce’s second adopted son.

Jason Todd died five years ago.

But when he was alive… There was something special about him. He was always so eager to help Bruce by being robin.

That was back before you had your own suit; really, you’d only gotten a superhero identity so you could hunt down the joker and get revenge for Jason, but Bruce had managed to convince you not to do that in the last five years.

Probably for the best, even if seventeen is too young for someone to die; even if having a strong bond ripped away from you before it could become anything still hurt so badly.

You follow Bruce down into the batcave. “What do we know about Red Hood? Do we have any idea how he originated? It seems like he just popped out of nowhere.”

Bruce contemplates his answer as he unlocks the bat computer. “All we know is that he would have had to fly under our radar for months in order to take over the whole underground drug ring.”

You over hover his shoulder, trying to see what’s on the screen below him. “I don’t understand how we wouldn’t hear anything about him? With that many people who work for him, you’d think one of them would mention something.”

He hums in response. “They must be terrified of him.”

Alfred inserts himself into the conversation and ushers you back into the main part of the manor. “Alright, Miss. Y/n, You’re officially off duty indefinitely.” He pauses. “Like Master Bruce said, it is safer if you disconnect yourself from your hero identity.”

You frown. “If he knows my real name, he probably knows where I live.”

“He also told you, quote ‘don’t get in my way’ end quote.” Alfred tuts. “He clearly has no intention of hurting you as a civilian.”

You huff and head up to your bedroom, feeling like you really need to be out there but not really knowing why.

You suppose you don’t know what to do with your time anymore, now that you’ve been superhero-ing for so long.

When was the last time you read a book? Or watched a movie, just because you wanted to? It’s been too long…

Your bookshelves mostly carry decorative encyclopedias and other books that would bore you to sleep, so you leave your room and head just down the hallway.

The door creaks as you push open and clicks when you push it shut; then, you’re left in the silence of Jason Todd’s bedroom. Unchanged and untouched from the last moment he was in here.

It’s a little messy but nothing out of the ordinary for a teenage boy; the bed was never made, and his clothes were ever put in his drawers despite them being washed.

There’s books pulled out and just scattered in places, schoolbooks, comic books, novels… finally you spot what you wanted to find.

It’s a very old and very worn copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, something the two of you used to read together when you’d sneak onto the roof of the manor at nighttime.

You’d watch the stars and one of you would read the book out loud, until eventually you both would pass out and give Bruce a heart attack the next morning.

Maybe it was time to revisit that tradition, even if you were only reading to yourself.

Bruce and Alfred are in the Cave so you find your way into the roof and lay back. The shingles are definitely more uncomfortable without Jason to lay on, but it’s still a nice feeling nonetheless.

Just the act of laying under the stars with that book in your hands, makes you feel a kind of warmth that you haven’t felt in years.

You close your eyes and take a long, deep breath of night air; It’s fresh and ever so slightly damp, but in a way that makes you feel nice. The cold nips at your body in all the right ways.

Unfortunately, all bliss is momentary, and someone clearing their throat makes you jump a couple centimeters upwards.

You’re met with the bright red helmet of Red Hood.

“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” He says casually, though you're pretty sure he has a voice changer on, which makes his voice sound more irritated than it probably is.

You back up a few inches. “Bru-” Red Hood slaps a hand over your mouth before you can finish yelling for help.

You squirm in his grip, but he just maneuvers you so that your back is to his chest and you can barely move which makes your body lock up again— you can’t help the feeling of familiarity that settles in your stomach, or the way your body reacts to his.

Worst of all, he smells just like… no, it must just be where you are.

Jason Todd is dead.

And yet.

“Relax, Y/n, I’m not here to hurt you.” Something about him makes you listen and you relax your body. He kind of half-scoffs in response. “Are you done?”

You nod as best you can. He releases you.

“Who— why are you here?” You say, trying to ignore the fact that everything about this masked man reminds you of Jason.

Your chest rises and falls irregularly as he stares at you.

His head snaps away randomly. “Why should I tell you that?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question.”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

There’s a look of defiance shared between the two of you, or, at least, on your end. You can’t actually see his face so you’re really just assuming.

You spin away and blow out a labored breath. “God, I must be going insane…” Even the way he talks with you sounds like Jason.

“You’re so short, you look like a bunny who lost its carrot.” He says with a laugh.

“I do not!” You exclaim angrily, your mouth dropping open. “Okay, that’s it, I’m calling Bruce.” Your hand slips into your pocket to pull out your phone, and just as it's out of your pocket, Red Hood grabs your wrist; he traps it in one spot and yanks the phone from your hand.

He gently sets it on the ground. “Tell that fucker whatever you want, but wait until I’m gone.” The tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine. He seems so angry…

With that, he leaves, taken the same way that you took off the roof.

You stand there until you hear the roar of his motorbike, and then you finally retreat from the roof with the book clutched tightly to your chest.

…..

“I’m going with you, Bruce. You can’t stop me.” You say, already moving to try to grab your suit.

“No, you’re not.” He says sternly, blocking your path. “You need to stay out of this fight.”

You raise your eyebrows in challenge. “I’m going whether you let me wear that suit or not.” Bruce apparently doesn’t like this because he frowns even harder than before. You continue, “You can’t go alone. Dick is out of town and Tim is at school. Let me come.”

“You forget I did this by myself for quite a while before I adopted Dick.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Bruce doesn’t need your help, you know that; helping him isn’t your real goal.

Ever since the rooftop incident with Red Hood you’d gone into some sort of obsessive spiral over his similarities to Jason.

You feel like you need to talk to him again, touch him again… just to see why he’s so familiar; you feel insane.

The deepest parts of your brain scream at you that it’s not just similarities, that he really is Jason but… he can’t be; you watched them bury Jason’s body.

“There’s something else going on with you.” Bruce says, basically sizing you up.

You stiffen, which unfortunately gives away your next lie. “There’s nothing going on with me.” No excuse comes to mind so you don’t say anything more.

Bruce pauses for a beat.

“This has nothing to do with Red Hood.”

“Okay? Why would that matter?” You say dismissively, but also way too fast. “I don’t think keeping me locked up at home helps anyone.”

He sighs and finally caves. “Fine, you can come.”

…..

You aren’t sure how this situation devolved so quickly, but your communications got cut off a while ago and you haven’t been able to find Bruce or navigate very well through the rubble.

You’re bleeding heavily from a few different cuts and you’re pretty sure you sprained your ankle.

The faint cackle of the Joker makes you dive under a fallen piece of concrete, because if he comes this way he’ll surely kill you.

But the laugh recedes so you crawl out and sit against it instead.

You’re just about to start sobbing from the pain when you hear footsteps again; you go silent and try to move but you don't allow that.

You see a flash of red, and then Red Hood turns a corner into your line of sight.

“Christ’s sake, Y/n.” He mumbles. “What happened?” He approaches and drops down so he’s sitting on his feet, he stares for a moment, and you assume he’s assessing your injuries.

“You can’t call me that— here.” You hiss when he presses a finger against your ankle.

He stands up and takes both your hands, completely ignoring what you said. “Up. But don’t stand on your bad ankle.”

You grip his hands and stand up, holding your bad ankle in the air; Red Hood scoops you up bridal style not a moment later.

You squeal. “What are you doing?”

He stops walking and turns the face of his helmet directly toward you. “I’m taking you back to my base so I can help you get fixed up.” He interrupts you before you can speak, answering the question you were going to ask. “Batman isn’t here anymore, he went to follow after the Joker.”

It’s a rough walk to his bike, and it lasts for about ten minutes; ten awkward minutes of you being carried by Red Hood.

Red Hood who’s supposed to be a criminal and your enemy. Red Hood who brings you more comfort than he should just because of who he reminds you of.

He settles you onto the bike, pulling out an extra helmet before he speeds off.

…..

“Jesus, you sprained your ankle really badly.” He curses, performing whatever medical procedures as you hiss and whine at the pain.

He’s already stitched and/or dressed any of the open wounds you had and he saved the worst for last.

“Okay,” he says absent-mindedly. “I can’t do this properly with this thing.”

He reaches for his helmet but you stop him. “You’re taking your helmet off?”

He hesitates, then nods slowly. “I have to. If you don’t want to see, then shut your eyes until I’m done.”

You nod and squeeze your eyes shut.

He sighs softly and gets back to working on your ankle.

…..

“I swear to god, Bruce, it’s him. Red Hood is Jason.” You say, purposfully making your voice flat and void of emotion. “He has to be.”

Bruce just stares.

And stares.

Sympathetically, softly. But he stares.

“Jason has been dead for a long time, Y/n, and you know that.”

“No— I know, but he can’t be— that has to be him.” You back up into one of the chairs in the batcave, trying to calm your racing heart; you still try to keep a calm outward facade.

“What makes you think he’s Jason?” Bruce asks.

You weakly gesture at nothing with your hand. “Just look at him. He’s— everything about him is the same.”

Tim snorts from the computer. “The running drug rings and murders?”

“Not appropriate, Tim.” Dick says flatly and Tim’s face falls quickly.

You don’t blame him, you probably would have made a joke like that too.

Shaking your head, you stare at the floor past Bruce. “They sound the same, they talk the same way, they look similar— hell, they even smell the same.”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “How do you know what he smells like?”

“Uh…” you stall. “You know, close combat.”

Apparently, he drops it even though he clearly doesn’t believe you, because he asks another question. “We’ve never seen Red Hood unmasked, how do you know they look similar?”

You shrug. “They just do. There’s just something about him. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling for a while.”

It’s silent again for several long moments.

Then Bruce shakes his head absentmindedly.

“Jason is dead, Y/n. No matter how much we miss him, he can’t come back.”

But he’s wrong, he has to be.

Because no one is that similar to someone. You’re sure of it.

……

Your cheeks are wet and your eyes are starting to become raw from you rubbing at them.

Sobbing pathetically on the rooftop of the manor because you had to be reminded about a death that happened a long time ago is not the highlight of your day.

It’s stupid, going from sure of yourself, to telling yourself you’re so stupid for ever thinking it could be true in the first place.

There’s footsteps beside you, but you don’t look up. You don’t care enough to see who it is.

You fidget with the necklace around your neck as you sniffle into your knees.

Something clicks and then hisses as if air pressure is being released before you hear a tiny thud, and then someone pulls you into them.

You know who it is now.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly. You know you could look up and confirm your suspicions at any moment but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

It’s not true, after all, because it can’t be. It’s not possible.

You shrug against him. “I’m reopening old wounds for no reason.” You pause. “Why do you trust me?”

He’s silent, contemplative for a while. “You’re you.”

You laugh dryly. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“You haven’t even bothered to look have you?” His hand strokes lines in your hair. “You could. I don’t think I’d mind.”

“I don’t want to know.” You say, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not ready for that.”

He nods, you can feel the movement through his body, even though it’s subtle.

You sit, wrapped up in his arms for a long while before he clears his throat softly and asks, “what old wounds have you been reopening?”

Your eyes well again, but you choke back the tears. “An old… friend, I guess. He died.” You start to pull back but you don’t look at his face.

Instead, you bury your face in your hands again. He lets you pull back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

You shrug. “It was a long time ago, he just meant a lot to me— and it’s really hard because you remind me so much of him.”

He makes a sort of strangled sound and then clears his throat again but more rough this time. “Why do you say that?”

His voice sounds even more similar without the helmet and voice changer. This man is going to be the death of you. Maybe literally. “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s just everything.” You shake your head and laugh sardonically. “It’s driving me insane.”

“How did he die?” His voice is darker than before, and there’s a sort of undertone you can’t place.

“Brutally.” You stop, take a deep breath, and offer only a bit more context. “The Joker.”

He hums. “The Joker‘s alive and ruling this dumb city.” He pauses. “How do you think your friend would feel about that?”

“Probably about the same as I do. Sick.” You run a hand through your hair, purposefully trying to avoid seeing his face. “That’s why I became a hero, you know. I wanted to kill the joker because he killed Ja- um, my friend.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“People stopped me before I did something I couldn’t come back from.” You say, wrapping your arms around your legs. “I hope the joker suffers a terrible death, but I don’t think it should be by my hands. He wins if I spend the rest of my existence regretting it.”

Red Hood picks up his helmet and clicks it back on. “Right.” He stands and stares down at you. “I have to leave now.”

You shudder at his sudden coldness, and stand abruptly. “Okay, I— um, goodbye…?” You want to smack yourself at how unsure you sound. “Did I say something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “I just don’t know why you would ever regret ridding the world of someone like The Joker, that’s all.”

Stiffly, you nod and wipe your hands on your pants.

“Sorry about your friend.” He finishes, before leaving you alone on the roof again. “Too bad I didn’t know him.”

Basically, crushing any hopes you might’ve had that he was Jason.

……

This is an atrociously stupid idea, you know; driving directly into the den of Gotham's biggest drug lord is the smartest thing to do.

But Gotham's biggest drug lord is Red Hood, and you’re fairly sure he won’t hurt you. Mostly.

His lackeys though, don’t seem so forgiving.

“Who the hell are you?” The man who barks the question at you, is raggedy looking and has the worst, most distasteful tattoos you’ve seen in your life.

“I’m here to see Red Hood.” You amend quickly, “I’m a friend of his.”

“Yeah, right.” The other guard says, a bulky looking woman who is also insanely beautiful… unsettlingly so. “A fragile little thing like you, friends with our boss… please.”

You scoff. “Trust me, I’m not fragile.” Stopping, you contemplate whether it’s a good idea to start something, considering your ankle is still healing. “Just call him.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever.”

An old phone hangs on the wall and she picks up the receiver and quickly dials a number. “Hey, I have a woman here who says she’s the bosses friend— her name? I have no clue— Oi, what’s your name?” The woman barks at you.

“Y/n.”

“Her name’s Y/n.” She’s silent for a minute while we all wait, then she hangs up the phone aggressively and yanks your arm into her grip. “Lucky. Let’s go.”

The corridors are a bit confusing to navigate, but you’re mostly just following the woman, who seems very familiar with them.

After ten minutes you reach a door, it matches almost every other door, but it has ‘boss’ written crudely on it in spray paint.

“You’re on your own from here.” She says gruffly before stomping away.

You take a moment to collect yourself before you knock, and the door swings open before you can even finish knocking.

“Why are you here?” Red Hood sounds breathless behind his mask, as if something winded him. “How did you remember how to get here?”

“I’m… actually not sure.” You chuckle quietly to yourself as Red Hood pulls you inside.

He sits down at a desk after pulling a chair out for you to sit in. “Again, why are you here?”

Your heart seizes for a moment as if the reason why you’re here hit you all over again. “I want you to show me who you are.”

“Are you sure?” Red Hood questions slowly, his body locking up. “You’re not going to like it.”

You nod curtly. “Yes, I need to know.”

He takes a deep breath and stands up, coming right up close to you. Far enough that you could see his face clearly but close enough to have your knees buckling.

He reaches up and presses a button you can’t see. The helmet hisses and opens, he pulls it off.

And your jaw drops.

Standing there, in grown up glory, black hair, green eyes that used to kill you, is Jason Fucking Todd.

“You’re— You’re not— dead.” You stammer, almost reaching out to touch him before you yank your hand back.

You’re so irrationally angry and also relieved and devastated all at the same time.

Jason sets the helmet down. You can’t decide whether to hug him and never let go or slap him for waiting so long to tell you. “That’s a… complicated story.” He pauses. “I promise I’ll tell you that story but I just— can’t get into that right now.”

You nod slowly. “Okay… that means I can get fucking pissed now.”

You’ve clearly confused him when you wrap your hands around his waist and squeeze tightly while also cursing him out. “I can’t believe you waited this long to show me.”

You can see the smart-ass comment on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back. “I knew you’d find out eventually.” His eyes caress your body and there’s a look of longing lingering in his eyes; he seems to be contemplating something. “Fuck it, I’ve been waiting too long to do this.”

You barely have time to react as Jason lowers his face down to yours and kisses you; As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you kiss back.

His hands go to rest on your hips, as you slowly get pushed back into his desk behind you. When you hit the ledge of if, Jason lifts you onto its surface, and pulls back.

“I’ve wanted to do that since we were kids.” He says quietly.

You gently touch your lips, almost in disbelief. “I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids.”

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

#dc #dc x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #batfam x you #red hood #red hood x reader #redhood x reader #redhood #dc universe

[phantom-0-writer]

scene 03: get in loser, we’re going shopping

original prompt: gotham academy's mentorship program

more at: table of contents

timeline: much later after scene 1 & 2

Danny and Damian sat at one of the corner tables in the library. Danny had finals coming up, and was busy reviewing the term’s worth of topics from all his classes. Damian, who had insisted on joining him, sat bored. having nothing left to study. 

Danny looked at the younger boy when he sighed for the 3rd time in the past five minutes. Deciding that maybe he should take a break and indulge Damian, Danny finished the last problem, and let his book shut with a loud finality. 

Damian looked up at him hopefully, “Are you done, now?” He asked. Danny could tell he was trying his best to not seem too eager, but Danny couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. 

“Yup,” packing his things away first, he waited for Damian, when he noticed what the boy had taken up in his boredom. “Woah, Damian.” He whispered in awe, picking up the paper closest to him. “You did this?” 

Damian seemed to need a moment to understand what Danny was referring to before becoming flustered and embarrassed, a soft pink spreading on his ears, “It was simply mindless work.” He sounded defensive, like someone had berated him for his artist interests before. Danny tried not to react to that, knowing Damian would probably find it insulting. 

The sketch was on the back of a math worksheet Damian had long since completed, it was of a fighter who seemed to be using his sword to attack a nondiscript opponent. Danny knew from his many intensive training sessions with Pandora that the figure's form was slipping into leaving them open for an easy frontal attack from their opponent, while simultaneously leaving the fighter to not have the range of motion they might need to defend themselves. Most of the lines of the drawing were scratchy and short but overly repeated giving the fighter the illusion of fast movement, directly in contrast the hard outline of the fighter’s form made it seem like the fighter was stuck in their position. 

Liminals and liminal-agencent people by definition did not have a strong awareness to manipulate ectoplasm consciously like other more ghostly beings could. Coincidentally, liminals tended to leak their own internally produced and stored ectoplasm when they acted on their deep emotions. Scientifically this usually showed itself as a person ‘harnessing their full potential’ in moments of crisis or in some more extreme and rarer cases accessing their metagene (meta’s were not to be confused with liminals or ghostly beings they hold few to no similarities outside of coincidence). Danny had known from the beginning that Damian was a liminal, likely from prolonged exposure to ectoplasm, and paradoxically had a difficult time understanding and accessing his own emotions. Emotional negligence was never healthy for an ectoplasmic being, and Danny knew it would be a long process for Damian to learn how to properly deal with his layered and complex emotions. 

  That being said, there was a steady level of ectoplasm spread over the paper, something that did not match what Danny would have expected from Damian’s current state with his emotional and subsequently his ectoplasmic abilities. The fighter was clearly a character Damian had either consciously or subconsciously created to represent himself. 

Danny could work with this. 

During the long moment of silence Damian seemed to have grown more and more anxious for Danny’s reaction. Danny let his emotions display easily on his face, wide eyed, “This is so good, Damian. I didn’t know you drew. Do you like art?” 

“I do not draw. Art is a meaningless waste of time and only those without higher goals would indulge in such an activity.” Damian sounded conflicted, and the words he was saying were pretty obviously echoed from what someone else had said to him. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Danny scoffed, “Art is a very important basis for almost everything. I mean it would feel pretty stale to live in a world where there was no uniqueness anywhere. Drawing, painting, writing, acting, sculpting, singing, or whatever else, are all unique forms of making something that no one else could truly ever recreate exactly. Even if it’s minute, there are always differences in the way that one person would commit to something than another person. It’s the basis of humanity and in the core of the human mind. If you try to block it so harshly from yourself, you’ll end up locking up an integral part of yourself that sets you apart from the other 7 million people on this planet.” 

Damain stood there, considering what Danny said. 

Not waiting another moment, Danny grabbed Damian’s bag heading out of the library. “What are you doing?” Damian asked suspiciously, quickly falling in step with Danny, grabbing his bag back. 

Danny smirked at him, “We’re going shopping, Loser.” 

Damian looked scandalied at the nickname, not understanding the reference. “I am not a loser.” he huffed. 

Danny just laughed as they waited for the next bus. Once they got to their stop and entered the store, Danny beelined for where he knew the art supplies to be. Damian followed behind him, unfamiliar with the store.

Sure, if Damian wanted, he could easily buy the more top of the line supplies, after all he was a Wayne. But Danny was pointedly a broke scholarship kid right now, and it didn’t sit right to let Damian pay for things he was buying, no matter how much of a trust fund kid he may be. Not that Danny was exactly broke, but he imagined the cashiers at their local supermarket wouldn’t appreciate him trying to pay for a sketchbook, a couple sketch pens and pencils, and a 25 pack of Crayola markers with solid gold coins. 

It was around 4:30 when they left the store with their stuff, Damian eyeing the bag curiously the whole time. They walked the rest of the way to a local cafe, and Danny sat Damian down. 

“Okay, we’ll be here for the next hour,” He pulled out his own sketchpad, the concepts filling the pages were more accurately  blueprints more than drawings, “Draw whatever you want.” 

“I don’t know what to draw.” Damian huffed, awkwardly taking the supplies from Danny, and examining his surroundings carefully. Damian sat in the corner for a while, blending into the surroundings as he watched how the world spun around him. Danny was half-way through reviewing one of his older designs when Damian finally decided to open the pack of pencils and the first strike on the paper was made. They stayed there for long over the allotted hour, both sucked into their own projects. 

“I finished.” Damian breathed in satisfaction, stretching his hand and back in his chair at the admission. 

Danny eyed him with curiosity. “Can I see?” He asked. Danny wasn’t sure how right he had been about Damian using drawing to help regulate his ectoplasm and emotions, and he wanted to check how consistent it would be. Also he was really curious to see what he had drawn. 

Damian looked a little bashful at his request, but he nodded, handing the sketch book over to Danny. Danny could easily feel the ectoplasmic energy scattered across the page, it wasn’t as constant as the first drawing had been, but it was still there. So he was right. 

The drawing this time was of what had likely originally meant to be the barista, based on the outlines of the industrial coffee machine and register that had started out but been forgotten later for the center of the piece. The man was wearing an apron similarly like the one the barista had been wearing and a similar uniform, but that was the only similarities that Danny could draw from his surroundings in the drawing. The man, unlike their teenaged barista, was quite aged, with thin but well groomed hair, and a mustache. He had a longer face scattered with wrinkles of old age. The old man was looking down, presumably working on something, and seemingly happy with whatever it was. The ecto-signature was more concentrated around the old man, leading Danny to believe it was someone Damian likely loved and admired. 

“You’re so good at this.” Danny complemented, honestly. “Did you have fun?” He asked, it was starting to get dark and they had stayed at the cafe longer than Danny had asked him to without complaint. 

“Yeah, I did.” He answered after a moment. Danny ruffled his hair affectionately, “Hey, you’re gonna mess it up.” He complained, making no effort to remove himself. 

“C’mon, let’s get you home. I have to go to work soon.” Danny led them out of the store, just in time for an expensive looking black car to pull around the bend and expertly stop in front of him. 

“Young Master Damian, I’ve come to pick you up.” An old British gentleman spoke from the driver seat, it was the man from the drawing. 

“Understood, Alfred.” Damian turned to hand the art supplies back to Danny. 

“They’re yours.” Danny refused. 

“I’ll take care of them.” Damian promised, placeing the supplies carefully inside his book bag. 

“I’m sure you will.” Danny nodded, stepping back so the car could drive away. 

“Mister Daniel, I would have no problem taking you home as well. It is quite late now.” The driver spoke kindly. It surprised Danny how accurate Damian had drawn that picture without so much as a reference. 

“No it’s alright.” Danny waved away the idea, “I have to go to work now, and it’d be too out of the way for you.” He explained. 

The driver didn’t press, but Danny noticed how his eye caught on something in the distance before he bid his farewells and left. 

Danny made his way to the bus stop, and waited, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Moments later another older teen approached the bus stop as well, waiting idly for the transport to arrive. He had black hair with a white tuft in the front, a sign of prolonged ectoplasmic exposure Danny knew all too well, roughly 6’ and some inches, and wore a hood of his red jacket over half his head. 

Danny supposed it was fitting for someone who called himself the Red Hood. 

The bus arrived, and both Danny and his co-passenger got at the stop before Arkham Asylum. Park Row AKA Crime Alley. By the time Danny clocked in and changed into his uniform for his shift it was already dark outside. 

“Welcome to BatBurger.” He said in chorus with the rest of the workers at the bell chime of the door opening. The man walked to the counter silently, his white tuft of hair skillfully swept under a baseball cap he hadn’t had before. When he approached Danny’s station, Danny took his order, and right before completing the transaction, as per procedure, “Can I get a name for your order?” He asked. 

“Jason Todd.” 

#the effects of talia's parenting is showing and danny is a little concerned #damian learning to channel is inner artist #love to see it #also i really wanted to explore liminalness and ectoplasm here so theres that #idk if its kinda random lol #jason trained by the bats and the LoA mob boss extraordinaire and holder of bat paranoia: gives his full legal name #danny: 0_o #jason is literally so dumb smh #danny and damian bonding #damian inherited his dad's emotional competence #luckily danny's here to save the day

[lyomeii]

a little maid

・❥・warnings/notices: yandere themes, manipulation, obsession, reader dies in original timeline, reader is a servant/maid, female reader, cesare is obsessed with reader.

・❥・ request by anon! Question about the how to get my husband at my side You can do something where the reader protects Ruby and she becomes mega affectionate and in the end she comes to the north and everyone becomes affectionate(Yandere) for/to her

・❥・a/n: sorry for being missing :/ I got excited and inspired for drawing, writing some other projects (another chapter of wireless is coming soon!) and stuff from colleges, but no worries, here is the post for today!

・❥・way before ruby goes to the north to marry izek, you were at her side since the very beginning as her personal servant and beloved friend to anytime. the two of you were inseparable despite the differences of social classes, she being a noble girl set to marry the heir of the omerta dukedom while you were nothing but a simple servant ready to help her at anytime. a rare, but lovely duo.

・❥・that’s why you were so important to ruby! always helping her whatever she needed no matter how hard the task was and often. the way her blue eyes shiny when you are in the same room as her is more than enough to notice how the girl deeply cares about you since you are one of the few people that treat her right. despite yourself being treated in horrible circumstances too, the little bruises on your skins or when you force yourself to stop shaking when cesare is in the same room is noticeable to her eyes. specially when his eyes are settled on you, like he is watching a prey and he is ready to attack at anytime.

・❥・so when the news of ruby getting married to the heir of the omerta dukedom reaches your ears, you couldn’t be happier for the lady to get a better living life away from this place, away from the people who torment her daily and you got even happier when she told you that you are coming alongside her. the tears you dropped on her fancy and expensive dresses as the two of you prepared enough luggage to the long travel away from this living nightmare. away from the pope and cesare, even with the last one trying to make you stay in the manor to make him ‘company’, but luckily the pope told his son that ruby couldn’t afford to lose a loyal servant like you, so you quickly left with ruby towards the north.

・❥・the travel itself was a little rough, but nothing like the two of you couldn’t handle and so the day the two of you arrive at the north, things aren’t the best. the servants from the omerta dukedom were horrible to ruby and people often spoken ill things about your lady! oh, you were so ready to thrown fists and kicks everywhere to defend your sweetie lady when needed, however ruby told you to stay out and ignore them, after all, she only needs you, right? regardless of her now husband being cold and everyone treating her like nothing, you still here as her closest friend.

・❥・with days going by, it was hard to the local servants, knights and some others residents to not notice how the loyal maid of the lady rudbeckia followed her anywhere and how hardworking are you no matter the task you were given. clean the dirty windows? they are soon spotless. cooking to the knights? a delicious meal is ready to be eaten. serving izek after he is done with training? yes. ignoring the fact that you hold some feeling towards that man, you can’t deny that he is trying his best to become closer to ruby, even asking you for help. it was funny to seeing him nervous when questioning about the lady’s favorite food and sweeties.

・❥・so things get a little better, if you ignore the fact that you got in a few arguments with the headmaid and some others servants that tried to downgrade lady ruby and soon, people start noticing you even more. others maids that aren’t on your bad side, asking for advices in certain tasks. some knights becoming brave enough to hand you flowers and some little gifts that you thanked them and of course, you got to know elenia van omerta a little better. there is no lying in this part, you didn’t like her at first (the headmaid didn’t help with that too), but you give a shot and become somehow closer to her despite your heart telling not to do it.

・❥・ with more time passed, ruby’s life got better at the north. people aren’t that bad anyone with her, since you either threaten them or just because they rapidly become nicer to her :) and things between her and Izek got better. the two of them even act like a couple in front of the people and got to know each other. isn’t that sweet? now they are closer and some maids were replaced, you get more free time to get know around the dukedom, something you didn’t have the opportunity to do it earlier. and unfortunately, you got to know even more unpleasant people.

・❥・firstly, there was freyan. a sweet girl at first glance, but after a few interactions with her made you rethink about her entire personality. why is so evil towards ruby? ruby didn’t make anything for her to be so evil. and her brother, lorenzo? well, he is not that bad like you expected… before you could scold him for an accident at the training grounds, he quickly apologized to you and those involved, even getting you a bouquet as an apology gift with his cheek fully red. the knights couldn’t help, but make some fun of the boy for having a little crush on you and he went back to training to avoid even more embarrassment from his colleagues. a little weird, but at least you are happy that he isn’t as half bad like his older sister.

・❥・another person who you got closer in recent times is ivan. someone who at first, you wanted to be distant as possible, but turns out he is someone cool to be around. his carefree personality was the the main reason of how easily the two of got closer to become friends, also the many gifts he gets to you are also a little bonus of this friendship. you are to naive to notice his feelings about you, maybe it’s the fact that you are too busy working for ruby all the time.

・❥・and speaking of her, ruby is someone who cares about you and always will. in the original timeline, where the original rudbeckia was the one who caused the entire destruction of the omerta empire and between the main reasons she did it, you were the main one. a maid who never left her side til the very end by the hands of cesare, the very same one who never told where he put your dead body to rest. that was her final straw to bring the world to a living nightmare and she did with fully happiness when Izek confronted her in that very same day where she took her final breath.

・❥・now, with a new person living in rudbeckia body and trying to change such fate, she can’t be happier to know that you still around here. the way you spend most of your time next to her is the reason she smiles and there is nothing in this world she would change for that.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #yandere female #izek van omerta #yandere izek van omerta #yandere ruby #yandere Rudbeckia de Borgia #yandere how to get my husband at my side #how to get my husband on my side #how to get my husband on my side x reader #manhwa imagines #x female reader #yandere x female reader #x female y/n

[new-revenant]

A So Called Tamaranean

Edit: Ao3 Link!

Danny falls through a portal leading to a world full of superheroes. Unfortunately, he happens to bare an uncanny resemblance to a certain race of aliens here-Tamaraneans.

So my post about Danny being mistaken for a Tamaranean is being seen by more and more people, so I’ve decided to finally post this one-shot I’ve made around the time I made the original post. I have no idea if I’ll continue this or not, I kinda just wanted to write about my little idea for a bit and figure out how to write Nightwing. I think he would good with kids. I also only refer to Dick with they/them pronouns because it makes it so much easier to differentiate who’s who when referring to someone.

☁︎

The last thing that Danny remembered was green. Lots and lots of green ectoplasm. And before that? He was trying to escape from one of the many dangers of the Ghost Zone. He couldn’t even see what it was, but he sure as hell could sense it. Both with his ghost sense, and by being beaten up by it.

He never meant to go so far from the portal, so far from his home. And he definitely didn’t mean to get hit right into a different portal.

When he woke up, he couldn’t sense any ectoplasm at all. Death and decay, however, he could sense. And smell. He mostly smelled burnt rock, just like all the other times he got slammed into the ground by ghosts. He really needs to learn how to dodge one day.

His eyes fluttered open, then closed them just as quickly as dust went right into his eyes. He had seen smoke and rock, just like he expected. He groaned, trying to push himself up, but fell in an instant. He was so tired. And yet, he could tell he was still in his ghost form. How could he still be in his ghost form when he had no energy left? He had no idea.

So Danny laid there, trying to think about where he could be and why was he stuck in his ghost form. At least he thought he was stuck in his ghost form as he usually turns back into a human when he passes out.

Then he heard something. Something other then the ringing in his ears. It was a voice, maybe a masculine sounding one, that had an “are you okay?” tone to it. Danny would know because he’d been asked that hundreds of times before whenever he’d gotten injured. Instinctually, he tried to say that he was fine, but all that came out was a whimper.

Then the ringing in his ears got quieter, and he could hear the stranger’s footsteps coming closer.

“Hey kid, are you okay?” Danny could finally make out the person’s words. His eyes fluttered open again, revealing the person to have black hair, a pale face, and what looked to be a long black sleeved shirt with some blue on it, and a domino mask.

Was he in the 18th century again? Wait, had he’d ever been to the 18th century before? Well he couldn’t be now, not with the striking blue the guy had. Pretty sure they didn’t have blue dye like that back then. Oh god where the fuck was he? He had heard from all his ghostly friends-mostly Frostbite and Clockwork-that the Ghost Zone could bleed into other universes and timelines. Danny really hoped that was not the case. Danny had to get up.

He was in so much pain, his entire body stinging. But he pushed himself off the ground anyways, like he always did. When he sat up he saw the stranger stretch out their hand to him. Danny hesitated for a moment, before scrambling away from them because he did not trust them one bit. Well, maybe two bits but nothing more.

He hovered a bit off the ground, a good few feet away from the masked guy. They looked surprised, and looked at him rather analytically. Danny looked back at him analytically as well. The person seemed to wear this one-piece suit with black gloves and boots, with the wings of a blue bird-like symbol on their chest going across his shoulders and extending to their hands. They were lean and muscular and could probably take down many normal humans in a fight. And Danny.

Danny only hoped that this guy wasn’t some sort of weird murder or something. Maybe they were normal for this world’s standards. Maybe he was normal for this world’s standards. Probably not to be honest.

And then Danny was taken out of his questioning by a question posed by the stranger, “Are you a Tamaranean?” they asked. They weren’t speaking English, Danny could tell by the way their mouth didn’t match their words. Hurray for ghost speak.

“May-“ Danny coughed, his throat sore, but it was fine, he’ll get over it, he always does. “Maybe I am, why do you want to know?”

The guy smirked, making Danny feel a bit uneasy, “You did answer my question back in fluent Tamaranean.”

“So I did, again, why. Do. You. Want to know? How do you know about Tamaraneans? Who are you?” Danny was so confused about everything in this situation and he thought he asked decent enough questions. He had no idea what theses “Tamaraneans” were but he’ll play along as long as he won’t get shot.

“I’m called Nightwing,” they said calmly, “And I want to know what you are because I want to help you,” then they took a step forward. Danny was not expecting this and instinctively shot at them with ectoplasm. Danny yelped, both in surprise that he shot at them and at the fact pain almost immediately shot up his left arm. He could almost feel the nerves in his arm burn. That’s not good.

And yet Nightwing dodged it easily, skillfully, and didn’t seem too bothered by it. In fact, they seemed more concerned for Danny’s well being.

“I’m not going to fight you,” they tried to talk to Danny, “And I know how to help you, I’ve met other Tamaraneans, Tamaraneans who have powers like you.”

Okay so these Tamaraneans could also shoot green beams and fly, duly noted. And not all of them had these powers. God this place was weird. Danny couldn’t care about how weird he was or how weird his world was, but this place just felt weirder.

“You have?” Danny asked in a whisper to put less strain on his throat, floating down to the ground, holding his arm. “Who?”

“Starfire and Blackfire for one, those two have powers,” Danny noticed them happily say Starfire’s name and the tone of distaste they had for Blackfire. So Danny had an idea for which of the two was probably evil. Not really because the guy he was speaking to could still be evil and not to be trusted.

Nightwing then started to list more names of Tamaraneans, which Danny tried to pay attention to so he could give a good enough fake name to them.

“So kid, again, I just want to help you,” Nightwing bent down to one knee, like every non-teacher adult does when they want to talk to a small kid. “I may not know exactly what happened to you, but you don’t have to be alone.”

Danny didn’t expect to feel so...touched. Maybe this guy wasn’t too bad. Maybe he should just tell the guy what he was-actually that could still be a bad idea. Danny didn’t know if they would just flip like a dime and turn around and try to rip him apart. Molecule by molecule.

“What’s your name?” Nightwing asked. Their voice and face was soft, Danny noticed, but their body seemed alert, just ever so slightly tensed, ready for combat on a moment’s notice.

“My name…” Danny mumbled, looking away from Nightwing to think. In a moment of panic and many racing thoughts, he was able to think of something.

“Nightgale,” Danny said, a mirage of a smile on his face, “A bit like your name, isn’t it?” He was somehow able to remember that his last name used to be Fentonnightingale earlier in his family line, and got the name ‘Nightgale’ from it. Thank you infini-map.

“Yeah it does!” Nightwing laughed, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Nightgale.”

Danny really should’ve expected them to stretch out their hand again. He really should’ve been a bit less on edge then he was at that moment. And yet he shot Nightwing in the face when they tried to outstretch their hand.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to-oh no no no no,” Danny panicked, looking around to see where he could escape to and he was in a goddamn field with a city surrounding the entirety of the park. Danny just now realized that he had absolutely no idea where he was. He just shot his only hope at figuring out how to get home-probably, knowing his luck, definitely.

And yet Nightwing practically brushed it off. Yeah they stood up, stumbled backwards, swore in pain, and had to remove their mask for a quick second to rub their eyes, but then blinked a few times and seemed okay.

“Well that wasn’t as bad as when the other two did that,” Nightwing muttered in English, “Did the other two do that? Yeah probably. Anyways” -Nightwing switched back to speaking in Tamaranean- “It’s fine kid, you can calm down.”

So Danny did calm down. Mostly. Not really as he was still muttering apologies. His arm hurt even more now.

“I can ask Starfire to teach you how to control your powers,” Nightwing started. Danny has heard this spiel before, but this time he actually had a bit more trust in this random, and honestly somewhat terrifying stranger than he had with Plasmius. And Danny did not want to wait through it.

Danny grabbed Nightwing’s hand and looked up at them with the most pleading eyes he could muster. It worked as Nightwing’s face softened and they had finally shut up.

“Okay Nightgale, we’re going to go somewhere safe, then I’m going to get Starfire over to help you out, does that sound good?” When Nightwing asked that, Danny didn’t felt like he was being talked down to, unlike when other people said similar things. Maybe it was their tone.

“Where are we going? Where are we now?”

“Oh, right, I probably should’ve said that earlier. Well, for one we’re on the planet Earth, and right now we’re in Blüdhaven, New Jersey, the town I protect.”

“Protect?”

“Yeah, I’m a vigilante, which basically means I fight crime and protecting people who can’t protect themselves.”

Ah, now things started to make sense. This guy is a superhero. No wonder Danny felt oddly safe being with Nightwing. They just radiated safety-ness. Danny’s eyes lit up with glee, someone he could finally related to!

Even while slinking into the dirty, bloodstained shadows of Blüdhaven, Danny was skipping around Nightwing. He was in a weird place and situation, but he felt like a giddy kid. Nightwing moved with precision and grace that Danny wished he had.

Danny saw billboards and signs that seemed to mention other heroes as the two went. Random people calling out to Nightwing when they saw them, Nightwing sometimes giving them a little wave. Danny mimicked them, and each time the people gasped at him. Danny was able to pick up that these Tamaraneans that Nightwing thought he was weren’t common, so that’s probably why they looked so shocked.

It was nice, and for a moment, Danny forgot that he was a stranger to this world-that he wasn’t supposed to be here. This place was new and exciting, yet familiar all the same. Maybe he’ll stay a little longer, it’s not like he could just will himself to leave anyways.

For now, Danny was just a kid, exploring a world similar to his own, yet alien at the same time.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp crossover #dp au #dp fanfic #dp fic #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc au #revenant makes fanfics #a so called tamaranean

[mcyt-trios]

PROPAGANDA:

Eclipse Federation:

i dont like them. they ruined my life. Subz and Vitalasy had already partnered in previous seasons but this one, Vitalasy ended up leaving for a few months, leaving Subz alone, and Zam ended up getting close to him after immense trauma at the hands of his former teammates. Zam has done SO many wrongs, including to Subz himself and Subz STILL took him in and made him join Eclipse Federation after Zam died 14 times in a row and got banned then revived by the same player who's been killing him all this time. And it could've been perfect but no, Zam had betrayed his previous team due to them using dupes via exploits, and now Eclipse Federation ALSO has exploits! And he decided that yeah his morals were more important than being loved! And so he murders Vitalasy when he's at his most vulnerable point, lets everyone gaslight him into thinking Vitalasy is an irredeemable evil monster who will never change, even as Vitalasy SAID he was ready to change before the betrayal even happened, Eclipse threw out their whole revenge plans because of Zam's positive influence and he just broke everything. Subz couldn't be with Zam but also couldn't see himself at Vitalasy's side, leaving him alone. Vitalasy hated Zam and yet never killed him or hunted him down, despite Zam acting like he did. And when Vitalasy left, banning himself off from the server, Zam had some time alone to think and realized he fucked up SOOOO bad. And Subz revived Vitalasy and told him to kill him. And ban him. His last wish. His Deliverance. And to make up with Zam. And Vitalasy tried, and they kind of did make up over Subz's death, but then Zam was like "actually im going to kill everyone and destroy the server now. because i want subz back and also because i always do extremely drastic things when i don't need to because i have unchecked mental illnesses i refuse to get help for". And surprisingly when Subz came back he didn't like that! And they ended in tragedy! Eclipse is fucked up. It's a trio that's always about the absence of one person, it's a team that could only happen in one timeline and it was doomed from the very start. But the love was there. It made everything worse, truthfully. But it was there. And that matters. Also as a fun fact Zam himself on twitter has referred to eclipse as a throuple, which is not canon but that's pretty funny. he also stated on stream he didn't want to get therapy because it'd ruin his lifesteal character. and there was a saga where they would "marry" (challenge lost kinda shenanigans) and zam was the only one happy about it. he's not normal. there's something wrong with him. love that for him though sorry for the block of text. I really dislike them. They're my beloveds :3

L'mantrio:

brothers in arms. nothing much to say here I'm bad at propaganda sorey

They're brothers your honor, they're the original 3 members of l'manburg, they're so underrated, they're literally my favorite ever trio

#mcyt-trios #mcytblr trio bracket #mcyt #polls #round 4

[crisiscutie]

Yandere Father Sephiroth Musings

By merging all the timelines, your father Sephiroth has successfully conquered the multiverse. The sole focus of his dark heart now is you.

Content Warning: Emotional abuse. Yandere Sephiroth. Infantilization. Unhealthy and unsettling family dynamics. Rebirth spoilers.

Counterpart to Yandere Son Sephiroth musings here.

༻❁༺ Conquering the multiverse wasn't enough for him after all. His thirst for power extended beyond it now. Reality itself will be his next ultimate conquest.

༻❁༺ With you, his precious princess at his side, anything was possible. But you weren't as eager for conquest as your father was. You loved him, but there was an empty void within you. You yearned for a greater purpose, beyond merely being his princess and partner in conquest.

༻❁༺ "Sweet girl" was his special name for you. Whenever those two simple yet powerful words left his lips, you couldn't help but feel weak in the knees and overwhelmed with devotion to him. A willingness to go above and beyond to please your father always possessed you, no matter what debate or reckless antic you were doing.

༻❁༺ During battles, he'd watch you kill off the lesser beings with a twisted joy, dousing you in praise. Most especially when you bring him special types of materia.

༻❁༺ He even played fetch with you sometimes, pretending to accidentally drop the materia just to see you, his sweet girl, retrieve it for him.

༻❁༺ But he didn't have direct control over you, despite having the ability to invade your thoughts. This always made him furious because there are times he wants needs to control you physically. But this lack of control also deepened his infatuation with you.

༻❁༺ If you sensed him poking around in your mind, you'd kick him out sometimes, wishing to be alone or just because you could. He never got angry at this. In fact, it amused him. These small, petty acts of defiance were no threat to him. Yet, this only nurtured the seeds of rebellion within you as time went on.

༻❁༺ Despite your ability to make your own decisions, he continued to treat you like a child. He desired to keep you at his side eternally. From what little you knew of his childhood, he told you he wanted the opposite for you - for you to be "free". Yet, both of you knew that your current reality was anything but free.

༻❁༺ Yet he genuinely doesn't realize that he's obsessive, overprotective and patronizing towards you. Why would he? He provided you with what you needed and granted your desires. It's clear that he is the only one for you. No one, be it a friend or a boyfriend, can love and appreciate you as deeply as your beloved father does.

༻❁༺ Even though you've already experienced and carried out such terrible deeds for him, he still obsesses over maintaining your purity, whatever that may entail. He took extreme steps, ensuring that nothing or no one can strip it away from you. If so, your purity will only be taken by him, should the moment ever come.

༻❁༺ He consistently lavished you with affection, usually wearing a gentle, affectionate smile around you. Headpats or stroking your cheek seemed to be his favored method of delivering this. But through his slit eyes, you sensed his twisted darkness, albeit mixed with genuine affection for you. His traditional, malicious smirk was usually saved for his enemies and other lesser beings.

༻❁༺ ...And for you, in the few rare times where you have crossed the line. If he even detected the slightest hint of doubt about your origins or you leaving his side, you'll be corrected quickly. He'd never, ever physically hurt you. But he'd drown you in a sea of remorse and shame. How could you question or disappoint your perfect father, sweet girl?

༻❁༺ It pained you greatly to even consider hurting your father or letting him down. However, as one of your past adversaries pointed out, you need to live for yourself. You need to discover your own purpose. Ever since your childhood, the regret of killing them has haunted you. They were the closest thing you had to a connection outside of Sephiroth. And you repaid them with betrayal and blood as your father urged you to eliminate them. Afterward, he told you there was nothing to be sad about. You were a princess of a legend and they were a worthless human parasite. You wanted to think like that too, but you couldn't...

༻❁༺ After the memory of your lost friend persisted in your thoughts longer than usual, you mustered the courage to ask him about your origins. You needed to do this. You don't even know who your mother is. He typically stonewalled whenever you bring this up, but this time, you stayed persistent.

༻❁༺ You refused to back down and ignored your growing fear. His familiar, malicious smirk emerged on his face as you continued to persist on this grating topic. A dark chuckle slipped from him as he finally revealed her name: JENOVA. ...His mother!? Who he is already one with???

༻❁༺ Without warning, he grabbed your chin with a firm grip. He made sure your eyes locked onto his slit eyes. He leaned in so close that you felt the warmth of his breath against your lips.

༻❁༺ "That's enough," his velvety voice turned to pure ice. Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you relented and apologized profusely to him. You made your precious father upset.

༻❁༺ But as you blinked, his typical gentle, affectionate smile had already reappeared. He cupped your cheeks, gently wiping away your tears.

༻❁༺ "Come, my sweet girl. Let's watch the stars together," he whispered. You nodded, resting your head against his chest. His arms embraced you as he flew you towards the destination.

༻❁༺ After that incident, you found other subtle ways to rebel. Any direct confrontations with your father won't work now. In your search for the truth, you discovered your father had a trophy room where he collected certain souvenirs. It turns out he hadn't utterly destroyed some worlds after all.

༻❁༺ This intrigued you, as you hoped to uncover clues about your origins. During your brief moments of free time, you'd explore the room, eager to read and learn as much as possible.

༻❁༺ Sephiroth knew exactly what you were up to. He went through this situation himself, a long, long time ago at the same age. He saw this as an opportunity to finally gain complete control over you.

༻❁༺ He orchestrated a path for you, leading you from one clue to another to foster the illusion that you're closing in on the truth, and indeed you are. But it'd be his truth that awaited you.

༻❁༺ He observed your journey closely, feigning ignorance of it as the two of you continued to conquer the omniverse, part of his overarching mission to conquer reality itself. You will be his sweet and obedient girl one day.

Darling going on r/raisedbynarcissists to figure out what to do next in her journey 🤣

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #yandere sephiroth #final fantasy x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagine #yandere headcanons #yandere father #yandere family #female reader #reader smut #x reader #x female reader #yandere stories #yandere male #yandere #tw: emotional abuse #yancore #tw: emotional manipulation #tw: abuse #tw: yandere #tw: inc*st

[thegayestmferintown]

can you do an mc that cant remember anything? It might be simple at first, but it causes a lot of problems since they also forget abt their birthdays, events, and ofc, their anniversaries if they get with them

my writers block has left and I am giggling and kicking my feet

I'm not gonna say anymore because I will jinx it 😭

This Takes Place In The Original Timeline

Warnings ;; None, just fluff!

Relationship ;; Romantic

Type ;; Headcanons

LUCIFER ;; THE PRIDEFUL ELDEST

Now, Lucifer is actually pretty used to things like this.

With his brothers being, well, his brothers, it's common for them to forget things

He's pretty used to watching Mammon forget a textbook and bringing it with him because Mammon's already run off.

So, when he meets you, it's nothing new. He takes care of you he says it's because he has to but we all know that's not true and makes sure that he brings things to RAD that you forget.

He's not that bothered when you forget your anniversary, because he's used to your nature.

Don't think that he won't put anything together though. He most definitely will, despite your forgetfulness.

MAMMON ;; THE SCUMMY SECOND-BORN

Mammon's pretty forgetful himself, as stated previously.

He'll forget a textbook every now and again, but important dates are most definitely engraved into his greedy little brain.

When he meets you, he's a little taken aback because of your intense forgetfulness, but he honestly gets it.

He's only a tad bit bothered by the fact that you forgot, but it stops bothering him once he remembers just how forgetful you are.

Like Lucifer, He'll most definitely put something together. It might not be as well put together as Lucifer's may be, but he tries, and that's all that matters.

LEVIATHAN ;; THE OTAKU THIRD-BORN

Levi probably wouldn't notice. Given how little he cares for your existence in the beginning of the game, I doubt he'd really notice or care at first.

While Levi isn't as forgetful, He is a bit concerned with how much you forget things, if he does happen to notice.

You'd probably be playing a game and just.. straight-up forget how to play, I think he'd start to realize it from then on.

He probably isn't much bothered by you forgetting, but he would say a couple of negative things about him just being a "nasty, yucky otaku" (same)

He probably wouldn't put anything too big together, he'd simply pull up a couple games and you'd have a gaming session together.

SATAN ;; THE CYNICAL FOURTH BORN

Now, I'd oddly think that this would kind of annoy Satan.

I mean, he's Satan. The Avatar of Wrath. You expect him to not be irritated by something like that?

Of course, he would outwardly show you his annoyance once he first meets you. Later on though, as annoying as it still may be, he'll stop showing his annoyance and hide it as best he can.

If you forget your anniversary, he might be a tad bit disappointed, but it won't show, let alone will it be any noticable.

He, like Mammon and Lucifer, will put something together. Small, maybe a cat cafe where you can read or something.

ASMODEUS ;; THE NARCISSISTIC FIFTH-BORN

Asmo might be a little concerned, believe it or not. Both in the beginning, and after you two get together.

He will be entirely concerned on just how forgetful you are. He wouldn't be surprised if you barley remember your own name. (I don't even remember my own name half the time..)

He'd be so offended if you ever forgot his name or anything about him.

You can never tell if he's genuinely offended or not.

If you happen to forget your anniversary, surprisingly, he won't judge nor will he be upset.

Like Satan, Mammon, and Lucifer, he'll put something together. Despite it being well, Asmo, he will make it a small date at Hell's Kitchen, if that's what you'd like.

BEELZEBUB ;; THE FAMISHED SIXTH-BORN

Beel's definitely forgetful himself, but in his own himbo-y way.

He'll forget very small, tiny things.

But it does kind of take him off guard by how much you forget when you first meet.

He honestly feels kind of bad.

If you forget your anniversary, he literally will not care. Not in a bad way. He just won't be angry or upset if you forgot. He'd actually be very forgiving and kind about it.

He might ask you to cook something for him, but that's really it.

Unless you actually want to celebrate it, he'll do whatever you want. He'll follow your lead.

BELPHEGOR ;; THE CATNAPPING SEVENTH-BORN

Belphie completely despises you at first, and not just because of the whole you-being-a-human thing.

You get on every single nerve when you two first meet.

Once he gets to know you, he feels bad about hating you and eventually just.. stops.

He feels bad about the fact that you barely remember anything, but he won't say anything about it.

If you forget your anniversary, he'll pull you away from whatever you're doing to take you up to the attic to take a nap with him.

He'll only explain if you ask. He'll simply say, "it's our anniversary." Before falling asleep.

#sorry if anyone was out of character #asks #x reader #anon ask #romantic x reader #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me beel #obey me asmo #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphagor x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me lucifer x reader

[lonelywhalien22]

ten seconds to midnight

pairing: jungkook x gn reader

rating/genre: second chance, fluff + sprinkle of angst or angst + sprinkle of fluff idk lol

summary: it's new year’s eve and you see your ex jungkook again for the first time since you broke up with him.

warnings: time and location are abstract af in this fic so don’t try to piece together distances or a timeline from anything in this; I wrote it in a more poetic fashion – it’s just a *vibe* if you will lol

word count: 4.6k

song(s) to listen to while reading: tis the damn season by taylor swift, ruin by shawn mendes, new year’s day by taylor swift

note: cleaned this up to share while I edit my next longfic – this is something sweet with a sprinkle of midnight angst. if you happen to enjoy this fic you’ll probably like what I have coming next so stay tuned. happy new year’s everyone and i’ll see you all next year <3

Two years.

It had been two years since you and Jungkook had seen each other for the first time in that art history class – had studied together, hung out together, and eventually dated.

Six months.

It had been six months since you'd left suddenly. Unexpectedly.

Six months since those words were flung like daggers between the two of you, as if you’d been in a competition to see who could hurt the other more – who could prove they were less attached than the other was. Pretending as if all of those late nights, whispered confessions, soothing touches, and sweet kisses had meant nothing.

As if in some sort of war, the two of you had thrown, burned, abandoned, and trashed every last remnant of your relationship, overcompensating to try and prove that none of the feelings were real, that the vulnerability was all a lie, and that you'd actually been keeping your shields up all along.

It's the reason you moved further away than you'd originally planned after you graduated - why you’d signed on to the extra work at your job, the extra responsibilities…you’d even gotten a new phone number, claiming you wanted a completely fresh start.

It's the reason why your brief visit home during the holidays this year just wasn’t the same. Why Jungkook didn’t stop by with the rest of his family to drop off gifts or send cards. Why you no longer saw him at the store he always used to frequent at a specific time, the two of you in charge of picking up whatever your respective families had forgotten for Christmas dinner.

It seemed like you and Jungkook had finally succeeded in creating an irreparable chasm between the two of you.

So instead, you spent your short visit home for the holidays nervously traversing the town that still held memories of him. You pushed your cart through the local grocery store in a near state of paranoia, drove around town with the windows up, let others in the house open the door when you got the usual holiday greetings from family and friends.

You didn't miss him, you told yourself.

Even as you chose to go to his mom's favorite grocery store, or mindlessly drove by some of your old spots from when you two had been together - eagerly looked out the window of your old childhood bedroom whenever you heard the doorbell ring.

You didn't miss him.

Now it was New Year’s Eve, and you currently found yourself outside on a fire escape in the chilly night air, high above a city you were still getting to know, at a party you didn't want to be at, terrified to go back inside.

How exactly had that happened?

Let’s take a few steps back.

The New Year’s Eve party was one put together by some old friends from college you’d reconnected with in the area.

None of them felt particularly close, but after spending last New Year’s Eve alone in your tiny studio apartment guzzling down an entire bottle of champagne and falling asleep before the ball had even dropped, you figured you’d try getting out and doing something in the city you were trying to call home for once.

As you walked into the crowded party space, you immediately scouted out the food and beverages area - your trusty diversion ever since you’d been to your first party as an underclassman in college, terribly shy and fearful of large crowds. You could still remember the moment you’d spotted Jungkook from afar for the very first time in a cramped living room all those years ago - laughing with his friends in a corner, his eyes on you for the tiniest of milliseconds before he went back to sipping whatever was in his red solo cup. It was his hands you’d noticed first, the handful of tiny tattoos scattered across his knuckles. You’d been so surprised when he’d said hello to you in a class one semester later, even more so when he’d smiled easily as he admitted to remembering you, the mural of tattoos on his right hand having spread, two new ones on his index finger and another near his wrist.

Back in the present, you grabbed a few cookies and some water, slowly sipping on your beverage of choice as you resolved yourself to silently watching the party from a distance. You were here – that was progress enough wasn’t it?

"Y/n?" you heard someone shout your name eagerly.

You were surprised since you didn't think you knew anyone at this party all that well, but the friendliness of the voice made you perk up.

Turning your head in the direction of the voice, you recognized the owner as an old friend from back home.

"Changkyun?" you exclaimed, shocked.

You hadn’t seen him in forever. He was so tall and almost athletic in his build now, that you almost didn’t recognize him.

"Hey! Wow, long time no see!" he smiled and immediately pulled you in for a hug. It nearly squeezed the surprise right out of you.

You two began a conversation and caught up, laughing over old memories and how much you’d each changed since last seeing the other before he interjected quickly.

"Now that I think about it, pretty sure I saw someone else you know around here..." he pondered out loud, scanning the crowd before he spotted who he was looking for.

"Oh yeah, Jungkook is here. Hey JK!"  you heard Changkyun quickly shout across the crowd towards the center of the room.

Before you could even fully register the name of your ex you glanced over to where your friend was calling, instantly spotting the back of a familiar head of hair, though it was longer than you remembered, the ends curling slightly from the length.

“J-Jungkook..." you repeated quietly, eyes widening as your brain registered what was happening.

"You good?" Changkyun asked, noticing the change in your expression. "Oh shit, wait - you two were together at some point weren’t you? Did I -"

The rest of his words evaporated into nothing but muffled noise as you watched the head of your ex swivel around, searching for the source of the voice that had called his name. He was still as mesmerizing as ever - those big brown eyes and soft lips. His hair fell into his eyes as he turned, and it made your view of him both painfully nostalgic and exhilarating all at once.

He was gorgeous. Just like you remembered.

You stood frozen, eyes wide in admiration, until Jungkook’s gaze singled in on you and broke you out of your trance. Quickly his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they lifted up softly upon recognizing you. You watched as he mouthed your name, as if he was asking himself whether or not it was really you. But it was all muddled within seconds as you realized your vision was beginning to blur. Your throat dried up and your head began to pound, and finally you realized you were about to cry.

For some inexplicable reason, you were upset.

"Damnit," you muttered to yourself, looking down, a tear slipping down your cheek against your will.

"Y/n, are you ok?" you heard Changkyun ask beside you, but you only shook your head quickly.

"I…I gotta go," you barely managed to choke out before turning away and pushing through the crowd as fast as you could. You quickly reached the front door and tumbled out, searching for the elevator before instead opting to take the stairs rather than risk standing around for any longer.

After wandering around aimlessly for a couple floors you came upon a shaky fire escape entrance and yanked open the doors, cool air slapping your face like a tide in a storm. It brought goosebumps to your skin - the chill of the night breeze, the cool steel grates that scraped against your thighs as you sat down, the hard brick of the wall against your back, but still - you found yourself grateful for the getaway.

You shimmied to the side so you couldn’t be seen from the glass door entrance and tried to make yourself comfortable in the space that remained, your legs slipping into a makeshift crisscross position. It was ridiculously cramped, and probably not at all safe, but at least it was quiet. The isolation gave you a chance to work through some of your thoughts without interruptions from annoyingly drunk partygoers.

"Why did I come here," you whispered to yourself, frustrated.

You knew how much you hated parties, and yet you'd gone anyways, only to find yourself in the very situation you’d been fearing since the holidays had come upon you – trapped with him just steps away and nowhere to run or hide.

You were terrified to face all the damage you’d left behind in your breakup with Jungkook - the stuffed closet full of baggage and hastily thrown together lies that you knew would all come tumbling down if you ever saw him again.

If you were being honest, you'd been running from this very scenario ever since you’d broken up with him. Because somehow, after all this time, he still wouldn't leave your head - his smile, the sound of his laugh, the way he could be incredibly cute but could also make you completely flustered at the flip of a switch.

The way he’d felt like a best friend, a confidante, and a lover all at the same time. How he’d made you feel so loved in a way only he could.

You had searched for that same feeling in others, from the occasional coworker to the random blind date, but no matter how hard you tried you couldn't get yourself to fall out of love with him. And deep down, you think you always knew it. You'd be lying if you said there wasn't some part of you that saw a piece of him in everything you did and everywhere you went. You just couldn't lie to yourself anymore – not after seeing how you'd reacted from just seconds of seeing him in person again.

You took a few deep breaths, staring out at the lights and bustle of the city as your finger trailed longingly up and down one of the steel bars that separated you from the open air. Funny how the rest of the world just continued to go on, even when it felt like your little corner of it was being shaken to no end like a snow globe in a child’s hands.

But watching all the cars and pedestrians below carrying on with their lives – it also helped you put your worries into perspective - helped you keep calm.

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by the cracking open of the fire escape door.

Please don't be a couple, please don’t be a couple, you thought to yourself. The last thing you needed were some handsy lovebirds interrupting your ruminations and reminding you of your own failures in the relationship department.

"Y/n?" you heard someone whisper softly. "Y/n, you out there?"

You’d recognize that voice anywhere - warm and soothing when it was singing along to a song on the radio, smooth and sweet like caramel when it was directed towards you, and immediately your body tensed.

The voice continued to call your name again and again, and you could hear his footsteps shuffling around closer and closer to you in the dark. Folding into yourself and squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed he didn’t notice you, or maybe he’d think you were some stranger - turn around and leave you out here all alone like you thought you wanted.

The footsteps continued until you heard the door open one last time, someone mumbling something too far away for you to hear before banging it shut again. You figured he didn't see you, deciding to look elsewhere, and your shoulders relaxed again.

"Didn't think I’d see you here," you suddenly heard loud and clear.

"Fuck," you shouted, too spooked to really think about it before your reflexes kicked in and you jumped, quickly turning towards the voice. "I thought I was alone out h-"

As soon as you looked up you saw that it was your ex. He stood feet away, one hand still lingering on the fire escape entrance.

"Jungkook."

You mumbled his name, aggravated as he raised a brow at your rare curse.

Quickly, you angled yourself back towards the view of the skyline, shaking your head profusely as you attempted to make him go away.

"I don't wanna see you."

"Believe me, this wasn't really how I pictured spending my night either," he retorted, and you couldn’t even lie - the words felt like a cold knife straight to your heart.

He took just one tiny step forward, hand falling from the rusted metal handle of the door.

"I couldn't just let you go off crying though."

"I wasn't crying," you spat out. It was your roughest voice yet, but Jungkook didn’t even flinch.

"You're still shit at lying," he said with a smirk instead. "We may not be together anymore, but I can still recognize the face you make when you're about to cry."

You wished he’d elaborate so you could practice never making that face again, but he just stood still, glancing back through the window. It both annoyed the heck out of you and made your heart flutter, knowing he could still read you like that.

He took another few steps towards you. Like a giant, his stature towered over you as he continued to stand, his feet careful not to step on your fingers.

"Anyways, you left this," he suddenly said, a chunk of metal entering your view. It was your phone.

How that happened, you had no idea. You must have placed it on a nearby table as you ate, distracted by you conversation with Changkyun. You grabbed it swiftly, careful not to touch his hand in any way, but you still couldn’t help but notice the decorative ink that now danced all over his fingers, the way his skin reddened in the cold.

Did he notice you still used the phone case he’d bought you for your birthday?

"Thanks," you told him curtly instead, avoiding his gaze.

You kept quiet, expecting him to finally go away now that he’d returned your phone but instead the silence lingered, Jungkook’s feet shuffling awkwardly.

“Come back inside Y/n,” he said, tone gentle, the edges of his jawline softening.

“Why?”

Jungkook looked down, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Changkyun’s worried about you,” he mumbled eventually. “…and besides, it’s dangerous - sitting out here all alone like that.”

“I’ll be fine. No need to worry about me.”

You could feel his frustration brewing as he looked at you in silent incredulity, a cloudy huff leaving his lips in the night air before you felt him sit right down beside you. His denim-clad knee scraped yours just faintly as he settled into a comfortable position. Together the two of you took up nearly all the space on the tiny ledge.

"You want a drink?" Jungkook offered coolly, a cup of red liquid seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

It was tempting, but you hesitated. After all, you weren’t looking to get inebriated while on a shaky fire escape with your ex nearby to bear witness to some sort of embarrassing, drunken confession of longing. You generally preferred to stay sober anyways.

"It's just cranberry juice,” he told you, as if he could read your mind. “They have a bunch of it to mix with the cocktails."

Fuck.

Not only did he remember how much you hated alcohol, but also that cranberry juice was your favorite?

"You're the only person I've ever met who drinks that stuff," he used to always joke.

Back in the present, you took the cup from his hands, finally looking at him to search his face briefly, but his expression gave nothing away. You took a sip to busy yourself.

A blanket of silence fell between you. It wasn’t awkward or even necessarily tense, but it didn't feel like it was truly quiet either. Instead, it was more like there were a bunch of unsaid words bouncing around between the two of you, trying but failing to break out.

"What're you thinking about?" Jungkook asked innocently, looking down at one of his hands before focusing back on the view of the city skyline.

"Nothing," you shook your head tersely, only to hear the tiniest of hums escape his lips out of disbelief.

"So you're outside all alone, staring at the sky in the freezing cold and nothing's wrong? You sure about that?"

You closed your eyes, more and more memories rushing back to you – like the times Jungkook used to find you alone out on the campus green, just sitting with the palm of your hand pressed against your cheek, pouting as you stared at some point in the clouds. Or how he used to poke you on the nose whenever you laid your head in his lap and stared into space, that same pensive look on your face. His words were always the same every single time.

"What're you thinking about?"

It was beginning to drive you crazy the more you thought about it – how, even after all this time apart, he was still able to pick up on little things like that.

And it made you feel even crazier when you thought about the fact that you still remembered those little things about him too.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming any more affected by his words, you tried a slightly more aggressive approach.

"Well maybe I would be fine if I was actually alone."

But he only turned to face you at that remark, another deep sigh escaping his lips.

"Y/n/n.." he used your nickname this time, and he sounded regretful, like your words had actually stung. "Look, I just wanna make sure you're ok."

"I'm am ok," you said back harshly.

Another bout of silence fell between you at that – this one like a cascade of bricks instead of a gentle blanket.

"Why are you acting like I'm the one who did you wrong?" Jungkook piped up, exasperation inching into his voice.

"Last time I checked, I told you I wanted to be left alone."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about,” he said, undeterred by your attempt to change the subject.

You didn’t respond immediately, not ready to talk about your breakup out in the open.

You weren’t sure you'd ever be ready.

"I told you I wanted to experience other places…" you started after a minute or so, quieter than expected. "You know I never wanted to stay so close to home."

"And I get that, but one week?" Jungkook asked incredulously. "How could you only tell me a week before you left? I thought I meant more to you than that."

You huffed out loud in frustration, unsure how to respond.

It was true - you did tell Jungkook about your big move only seven days before you left. You did it out of fear.

Because you were scared.

You and Jungkook had gotten so close after only two years, and you’d never felt that way about a person before - you’d never felt in love.

It scared you - especially when you thought that maybe you were just getting too attached, too quickly.

If there was one thing you hated, it was dependency. Needing someone else felt like an indefensible weakness, and you were afraid that being with him, needing him, would only hold you back.

All you’d wanted was some space to cool off and clear your head - evaluate how you felt from a distance in solitude, like you always did when you felt overwhelmed by your emotions. When you finally did tell Jungkook about the move, you were hoping you two would just dial things down a little - keep in touch remotely while you took some time to think about your life post-graduation.

But instead, the whole thing had turned into one big shouting match.

Hurtful words had been thrown like weapons on both sides, and by the time the dust had settled, you were driving hundreds of miles away.

You’d ignored his calls, deleted his texts, and even refused to listen to appeals from your mother, who still kept in touch with his family. Distancing yourself away from him had only made your worst fears become a reality, and in turn made it even easier to run away from it all rather than confront your fears head on.

Avoidance was the only way you knew how to approach things that were hard - uncomfortable.

And maybe that's why you were sitting here on this damn fire escape in the first place.

"I just wanted some space," you defended yourself.

"But so suddenly? Was there something I did wrong?" he asked you dejectedly.

You turned to look Jungkook in his eyes, and behind his seemingly calm face you could see real pain. You really had hurt him, and in that moment you wished you could tell him the truth – that he hadn't done anything wrong. He'd done everything right, but you just hadn't known how to deal with the intensity of your feelings.

"Did you really have to change your number? Pretend like I didn't even exist?" Jungkook spoke up again.

"That's not fair," you shook your head. "You really hurt me with your words when I finally did tell you."

"Because you broke my heart," he exclaimed, getting visibly upset. "You told me you never loved me - that all of those memories, all those moments we shared...” he looked down for a moment. “You said none of it mattered. That I’d ‘taken it the wrong way.’"

"I didn't mean any of that," you blurted out loud.

"That's what I told myself," Jungkook started, "but what was I supposed to think when you completely cut me out of your life?"

You sniffled silently, unable to come up with any more excuses.

Simply put, you’d both really hurt each other.

As you focused back on all the lights down below, legs beginning to cramp, you felt a curtain of warmth envelop your shoulders.

Jungkook had draped his denim jacket across your body. You couldn’t help but fixate on how the fabric was soft and worn, and it smelled just like him - that same combo of body wash and cologne that you still couldn’t erase from your memory.

"Are you two dating?" you heard him ask quietly.

"What?" you asked, confused before putting two and two together. "Me and Changkyun? No…"

The question took you aback. What did it matter to him anyways?

"I came alone and ran into him unexpectedly," you explained further. "Why are you here?"

"An old classmate invited me," he told you casually, contemplating his next words for a moment before continuing. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping that maybe I'd see you though..."

You felt your heartbeat quicken at the casual admission, but you didn’t have much time to think about what it meant as he smoothly moved on.

"What about you? I thought you hated parties."

You sighed, hesitant to be so honest but feeling a strange sense of courage regardless.

"Well normally I do, but last New Year’s just...wasn’t all that great," you started.

"How so?"

You took a deep breath before continuing, counting off the reasons on your fingers. "Well, I was alone. And it sucked. I didn't even make it to midnight before I just fell asleep. So I decided this year I'd try going out instead."

"And how's it going?" Jungkook asked, the tiniest hint of a twinkle in his eye. “Tonight, I mean.”

Was he flirting with you right now?

"Not sure yet…" you played along, "but I'm still awake so that's a plus."

Again you sat quietly for a few minutes, neither of you making a move, not a single word shared between the two of you. This time the silence was comforting. You became hyper aware of his knee brushing against your own, and your insides felt so warm that suddenly the cold air didn’t faze you at all.

Maybe, just maybe…

Your quiet stalemate was interrupted when the fire escape door slammed open and the sound of drunken giggles grew louder and louder, a shaggy head of hair sticking itself outside to ogle at the two of you.

"Oh, shoot, looks like this one's taken babe," the random guy shouted in a slurred voice.

"Well hurry up and find somewhere else, I can't wait any loooonger," some poor girl whined, just as tipsy.

They disappeared as quickly as they came, the door shutting with a bang, and you and Jungkook couldn't help but burst out into laughter.

"Was their plan to screw each other on the balcony?" you heard him utter your exact thoughts aloud. Not so innocent memories crept into your mind for a split second before you squashed them.

He's still your ex, you reminded yourself.

"Not sure,” you said instead with a chuckle, “but it certainly looks like we’ve reached that point in the evening where I typically remove myself from the situation."

You pulled your phone out to check the time. "It's midnight,” you realized.

You two had been out there together for over half an hour.

"Guess that means it's time to go, huh?" you heard him ask.

"Yeah…"

Neither of you moved to get up though.

You weren’t expecting to still be with Jungkook at this point, and suddenly you were unsure of what to do. How did one say goodbye to an ex?

How did you say goodbye when you didn't want to?

"Y/n?" Jungkook said your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked at him with bated breath, urging him to continue as fireworks began to go off in the distance.

"Um…" he stalled, clearly trying to find the right thing to say next.

Hating the silence, you improvised, taking off his jacket to give back. The warmth that previously enveloped you disappeared immediately, and it left you feeling strangely empty.

"Here, let me give you back your jacket before I forget."

"Oh…yeah, thanks," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

As he leaned over to grab it, you quickly kissed his cheek before backing away and looking down, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Sorry if that was weird," you started, "but I just…wanted to apologize. For everything I put you through back then."

To your surprise, Jungkook shifted a little closer to you, lips pulled into a soft smile as he shook his head. "You don't deserve all the blame. We both said things we shouldn't have, and I'm sorry too."

Butterflies burst free in your belly, and the fireworks that lit up the sky seemed to form a faint outline around Jungkook’s head as he stared at you, eyes boring into your own, keeping you frozen in place.

His hand slipped into yours lightly, and you looked at them for a split second, fingers intertwined in warmth as he spoke. Slowly but surely, you felt yourself drawn towards him in a familiar lure, like a moth to a flame.

Like a wanderer finding their way back home.

"Any chance we could just pretend like it's ten seconds to midnight again?" you asked shyly, and he instantly cracked the biggest smile you’d seen from him all night.

Jungkook said nothing, instead leaning in to kiss you gently.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts fluff