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callsigns-haze · 1 month ago

Text

Little peep

Summary: The daggers keep begging so a little peep won't hurt....right?

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of labour, postpartum.

Word count: 2437 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as part 4 of the little life universe

Two weeks later, Jake was finally back home, the familiar comfort of his Texas house wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The night was quiet, and the soft hum of the baby monitor filled the room as he tiptoed out of Ellie’s nursery.

He had just finished changing her diaper and giving her a bottle, carefully laying her down in her crib. Ellie had drifted off to sleep almost immediately, her tiny hand curling around one of his fingers for a moment before she let go. Jake stood there for a minute longer, watching her sleep peacefully, his heart swelling with that deep, protective love he was still getting used to.

Once he was sure she was settled, he left the nursery door slightly ajar and made his way to the master bedroom. The day had been long, and he felt the exhaustion in his bones as he pulled off his shirt, kicked off his boots, and collapsed onto the bed. The cool sheets felt like heaven against his skin, and he let out a deep sigh, sinking into the mattress.

He barely had time to close his eyes when he heard soft footsteps padding into the room. He didn’t need to look up to know it was Y/N; he could always sense when she was near. The bed dipped as she climbed onto it, straddling his hips, her warmth immediately bringing a grin to his face.

“Finally got her down, huh?” Y/N’s voice was soft, teasing as she leaned forward, her hands resting on his chest.

Jake looked up at her, his grin widening as he met her eyes. “Yeah, she went out like a light after the bottle. Our little angel’s finally giving us a break.”

Y/N chuckled, running her fingers lightly down his chest, but before she could say anything else, Jake’s hands were on her thighs. He gripped her legs firmly, pushing them wide apart with ease, and the sudden movement made Y/N squirm. A surprised giggle escaped her lips as she tried to shift against him, but Jake’s grip was strong, effortlessly holding her in place.

“Jake!” she squealed, her voice a mix of laughter and mock annoyance. “Stop that, you know I can’t fight you when you do that!”

Jake’s grin turned playful as he lifted her slightly, his muscles flexing under her hands as he easily shifted her weight. “You forget how strong I am, darlin’,” he teased, his voice low and filled with that cocky confidence she knew so well.

Y/N gasped as he lifted her higher, practically bench-pressing her as if she weighed nothing. She slapped his chest playfully, trying to wriggle free, but her laughter only grew louder as he held her steady. “Jake Seresin, put me down!”

Jake laughed, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as he lifted her a little higher, watching her squirm and giggle. “Why? You seem pretty comfortable up there.”

Y/N’s breath came in soft gasps between her giggles as she tried to brace herself against his chest, her hands splayed out for balance. “I swear, you’re gonna throw me across the room one of these days!”

Jake’s smirk widened as he slowly lowered her back down, letting her settle on his hips again. “Nah, darlin’, I’d never let you go that far,” he said, his voice dropping into a more tender tone. His hands slid up her thighs, resting on her hips as he looked up at her with that same adoring look he always gave her. “But I do love seeing you squirm.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, her laughter subsiding as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, though the smile never left her face.

Jake’s hands moved to her waist, holding her close. “And you love me for it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile softened as she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Yeah, I do.”

Jake wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you down flat onto his chest. Your head rested against his warm, bare skin as he tugged the blanket over the both of you, cocooning you in a cozy, intimate bubble. His heart beat steadily beneath your ear, the rhythm grounding you in the quiet of the night.

With a satisfied sigh, Jake shifted slightly under you, his hand tracing soft circles on your back as he spoke. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and relaxed, “Coyote’s dying to see you again. Keeps bugging me about when he can meet Ellie, too.”

You lifted your head slightly, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him, amused. “Oh, is that so? He’s been waiting for the big introduction?”

Jake chuckled, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “You have no idea. Every time I see him, it’s the same thing—‘When do I get to see the little Seresin? You know she’s got all my charm, right?’” He rolled his eyes, though there was a fondness in his voice when he mentioned his best friend. “He thinks Ellie’s gonna be his honorary niece or something.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “He already sounds like the proud uncle.”

Jake’s lips curved into a grin as he looked down at you. “Oh, trust me, he’s already planning the first time he can spoil her rotten. But he’s mostly just dying to see you again. Says he misses your sass keeping me in check.”

You laughed softly, laying your cheek back down on his chest. “I guess I’ve been out of practice. You’ve been doing too good of a job keeping me distracted.”

Jake smirked, his hand sliding up and down your back, his touch gentle and soothing. “Well, can’t have that. I’m sure Coyote will remind you how much fun it is to keep me on my toes.”

You hummed softly, the warmth of his body and the comfort of being wrapped up together making your eyes feel heavy. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. And introduce him to Ellie. I’m sure she’ll have him wrapped around her little finger in no time.”

Jake’s grin softened as he looked up at the ceiling, his hand still caressing your back. “Yeah, she will. Just like she’s already got me.”

You glanced up at him, catching the tender look in his eyes. “She really does, doesn’t she?”

Jake met your gaze, his expression softening even more. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart melt. “Both of you do.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your breathing and the gentle rise and fall of Jake’s chest beneath you. The weight of the world outside seemed so far away, and in that moment, it was just the two of you—and Ellie, sleeping peacefully down the hall.

You smiled against his skin, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over you. “Well, we’re not letting you go anytime soon.”

Jake chuckled softly, his arms tightening around you, holding you even closer. “Good,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “Because I’m exactly where I wanna be.”

---

A week later, Jake was back at the base, and Coyote was already on him the second they finished their morning briefing. As they made their way out of the hangar, Coyote nudged Jake with his elbow, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Alright, man, come on,” Coyote started, his voice low but insistent. “I’ve been patient for long enough. Let me see some more pictures of my niece.”

Jake rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I showed you pictures last week, Javy. How much has she really changed in that time?”

Coyote shot him an incredulous look. “You’re kidding, right? Babies change every day, man. Now come on, don’t hold out on me.”

Jake glanced around the hangar, making sure none of the other Daggers were around. He didn’t mind showing Coyote pictures of Ellie, but the rest of the squad didn’t know anything yet, and he wasn’t ready to open that can of worms.

“Alright, fine,” Jake relented, pulling out his phone. “But make sure no one sees.”

Coyote leaned in close as Jake unlocked his phone, and with a quick swipe, the screen filled with pictures of Ellie. There she was, bundled up in a soft pink onesie, her little fist curled around one of Jake’s fingers. Another photo showed her fast asleep on Jake’s chest, and another captured her looking up with wide, curious eyes while Y/N held her.

Coyote’s grin widened as he flicked through the photos, his eyes lighting up with each new one. “Man, she’s adorable. She’s definitely got your eyes, but thank God she looks more like Y/N.”

Jake smirked, nudging him playfully. “Watch it, Javy. You’re lucky she likes you.”

Coyote chuckled, still scrolling through the photos. “I’m serious, though. Why don’t Y/N and the baby just move down here? It’s gotta be tough, you running back and forth all the time.”

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d thought about that question a lot. “It’s complicated,” he said quietly. “Y/N’s got her whole life back in Texas—her writing, her family. We’ve talked about it, but she loves it there. I don’t want to push her.”

Coyote nodded, though a flicker of understanding passed through his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. But man, you know she’d love it here. And you’d get to see them every day instead of sneaking off for a couple of weeks whenever you can.”

Jake didn’t respond right away, his mind wandering to Y/N and Ellie, wondering if things could ever be that simple. But before he could dwell on it too much, he heard the familiar voices of the rest of the squad entering the hangar.

“Shit,” Jake muttered under his breath, quickly locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket just as Rooster, Phoenix, and the others walked in.

Rooster was the first to notice the sudden movement. “What are you hiding, Seresin?”

Jake flashed them a casual smile, leaning back against the wall. “Nothing you need to worry about, Bradshaw.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Yeah, right. You’ve been acting all secretive lately. What’s going on?”

Jake kept his composure, shrugging it off. “Just trying to keep my personal life… personal. Not everything’s for show.”

Rooster smirked. “You? Keeping something to yourself? That’s a first.”

Jake shot him a look, his tone light but firm. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The squad didn’t press him any further, though the curiosity lingered in the air as they gathered their gear. Coyote caught Jake’s eye and gave him a knowing grin, keeping quiet about what he’d just seen. But Jake could feel the questions hanging in the air, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to share the truth with the rest of them. Just… not yet.

---

The next couple of days at the base were relentless. The Dagger Squad wasn’t letting up, not after Jake had locked his phone so quickly and dodged their questions the other day. It was like blood in the water, and now they were circling, each of them taking turns to try and get him to crack.

One afternoon, after they’d wrapped up a round of drills, the squad gathered around the break room table. Jake leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, hoping to project an air of disinterest, but Rooster wasn’t buying it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and fixed Jake with a knowing look.

“Come on, Seresin, we know you’re hiding something,” Rooster said, his voice teasing but insistent. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks. Just tell us.”

Phoenix, sitting across from Jake, chimed in, arms folded. “Yeah, you’ve been sneaking off to take phone calls, locking your phone like it’s got state secrets on it. What’s going on with you?”

Jake smirked, but he didn’t respond, keeping his eyes focused on the coffee mug in front of him.

Fanboy groaned dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Dude, you’ve got to tell us. We’re dying over here!”

Payback leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You know what this feels like? It’s like when you’re watching a movie, and you’re halfway through, and then the power goes out. We need the rest of the story, Hangman.”

Bob, sitting quietly up until now, looked up with a curious expression. “Is this about a girl?”

That got everyone’s attention. All eyes immediately turned to Jake, the question hanging in the air. For a moment, there was silence, and then Jake raised an eyebrow, his trademark smirk slipping into place.

“Maybe,” he said nonchalantly.

The room erupted.

“Oh my God, it is a girl!” Phoenix exclaimed, her voice rising with excitement as she leaned forward, her eyes wide.

Rooster let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. “Seresin’s got a secret girl? This is too good.”

Fanboy practically bounced in his seat. “Come on, man, spill it! Who is she? How long’s it been going on? How come we haven’t met her?”

The questions came all at once, and the entire squad seemed to buzz with energy, practically on the edge of their seats, eager for details. Even Payback, who usually kept his cool, looked like he was about to press for more.

Jake raised his hands in mock surrender, cutting them off before the excitement got out of control. “Alright, alright, calm down,” he said, trying to keep his tone cool and collected, though a small part of him was amused by their reactions. “I’ve got more important shit to do than sit here and listen to you all squeal like a bunch of high schoolers.”

The squad groaned in unison, but Jake stood up from the table, grabbing his coffee mug as he made his way to the door.

Rooster leaned back, shaking his head. “Damn, Hangman, you’re killing us here.”

Phoenix crossed her arms, watching Jake with a smirk. “You’re not getting away that easy, Seresin. We’ll get it out of you eventually.”

Jake chuckled as he paused at the door, glancing back at them. “Good luck with that,” he said with a wink before walking out, leaving the rest of the squad behind, still buzzing with curiosity.

But as Jake made his way down the hallway, he knew it was only a matter of time before they figured it out—or before he’d have to come clean.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x reader

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writeroutoftime · 3 months ago

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making me crazy

pairing: tyler owens x reader (requested by: @missminnietwoshoes)

summary: while out on a chase with your team, a storm turns more dangerous than expected. of course, you all set to getting as many people as possible to safety, but you quickly find yourself caught in the middle of the storm.

words: 0.8k

a/n: my first tyler owens request!! when I say this man has a chokehold on me - I'm not joking! also, so sorry for the delay, but please enjoy!! (part 2 should be coming your way shortly!!)

oOoOo

Wind whipped around you, your hand protecting your eyes as you tried to make out what was going even just a few feet in front of you. The storm had come out of nowhere, meaning no one in town was prepared to take cover. Just passing through, you, Tyler, and the rest of your crew made it your mission to direct as many people to safety as possible.

Your heart broke seeing the devasted look on people from the town as they tried to keep calm despite the impending doom. No one had predicted destruction on this level, and now there was so time to do anything but survive.

The storm grew worse as you saw the twister grow closer and closer to where you stood. A quick glance over your shoulder told you that the rest of your team had started to make their way to safety. You all had done as much as you could with the little warning you had.

As you turned to run, you heard a whimper. Scanning the desolate street, you noticed one more person looking as though they were trying to get something out from underneath a porch.

"Hey!" you shouted over the rind, running towards them. "You have to get out of here, get somewhere safe."

The woman looked up at you, eyes shining with tears. "My dog, he got himself stuck under here trying to hide, and I won't leave him."

Distantly, you could hear Tyler's voice calling out, trying to find you. With determination, you turned away from him and nodded at the woman. "Okay, it looks like his paw is stuck. I'm gonna lift this plank and you get him out." you commanded, knowing you only mere minutes to make this work.

Counting to three, you lifted the pile of debris just enough to allow the dog to scamper free and jump straight into his owner's arms. The look of pure relief and joy on her face made it all worth it. However, the peace didn't last long as you were brought back to the fact that you were still in the middle of a very dangerous storm.

"We have to get out of here! Take him and just keeping running until you hit the shelter!" you shouted over the rain that drenched your both, so much so that you felt the chill deep in your bones. "Stay low and don't stop. I'll be right behind you."

She looked terrified but nodded, and then she was running across the street towards safety. You took a breath and moved to follow her, trying to see through the rain while avoided obstacles on the ground and flying through the air. It seemed luck was not on your side, though, as your foot caught on a piece of debris.

Before you knew it, you were sent skidding across the ground. Your palms and knees, newly scrapped, stung, but the worst was the throbbing pain from your ankle. Pushing yourself off the ground, you tried to take another step forward and felt your weight buckle to the ground once more.

"Fuck." you swore, daring to look back at the storm that inched closer with every passing second. There was no way you could make it to any semblance of shelter with this new injury. Tears mixed with the rain that whipped itself against your face as you resigned yourself to your fate.

Just as you closed your eyes, you heard your name in the distance. Jerking up, you could barely make out Tyler's figure in the storm as he shouted over and over on the slim chance you could hear him.

"Tyler!" you shouted back, your last-ditch effort to make it out of this storm.

As if tuned in only to you, Tyler's eyes met yours across the way and he suddenly began to sprint in your direction, arms and legs pumping furiously. You had never seen that look of anger and desperation in his eyes as he slid to the ground next to you.

"What were you thinking? Why are you still out here?" he shouted, cupping your cheeks between his rough hands.

"M-my ankle. I'm not gonna be able to get anywhere in time." you hurried to explain.

Tyler didn't give you a chance to speak further or urge him to go off on his own. Instead, he took one look at your ankle, glanced at your face, then steeled his nerves. One of his hands came under your knees while the other cradled your back. He then sprinted back the way he came, holding you close, trying to shield you from any more harm.

Finally, safety was in your sites and Boone stood by any open storm cellar, frantically urging you and Tyler to move faster. You didn't dare look over Tyler's shoulders, rather you let your face hide in his chest. It was only when you heard the slam of the storm cellar doors and no longer felt the rage of the storm against your skin did you look up.

Safe, you thought to yourself. You were safe and so was your team. Now all you had to do was wait out the same - and deal with the rage that still simmered on Tyler's features.

oOoOo

a/n: to be continued! (featuring more angsty and a confession!)

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens imagine #twisters x reader #twisters imagine #rita writes

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wholoveseggs · 2 months ago

Note

how about some pre vampire elijah smut with his secret wife maybe skinny dipping in the river

Springs

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Viking!Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You meet your secret lover deep in the woods, and take him to your favorite spot to spend some time together.

♡♡ Love this idea anon! I decided to change it from a river to a hot spring && Viking Elijah is just a sweetie ♡♡

3.5k words - Warnings: Smutttt, pre-vampire Elijah, shy Elijah, slight breeding kink {its just how the vikings are}, hot springs, lots of Norse mythology, Elijah being protective, steam, snow, Icelandic & lynxes...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises

Soft white flakes were falling from the sky, the sound of them crunching under his heavy boots echoed through the forest as Elijah walked through it. The young man had his hood pulled over his head and his hands in the pocket of his coat, trying his best to keep himself warm from the cold.

You had told him to meet you at your secret spot, the one you had been coming to for years now. It was where the two of you first shared your feelings and had kissed for the first time, it was where you wanted to be when things got too much in the village. It was a place that was just for the two of you. A place you could be free and yourselves, away from the prying eyes of your families.

"I was starting to wonder if you would ever come," you teased, smiling softly at him. Your hair was pulled back out of your face, long braids falling down your back, with a warm fur cape upon your shoulders.

"Sorry, mother was fussing about the weather and how she didn't want me out in it," he said, smiling back at you.

"She worries for nothing, it is just snow." You shrugged, moving to wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. "And it is much easier to snuggle with you this way," you giggled, kissing him softly.

Elijah returned the kiss, his hands falling to rest on your hips, smiling against your lips. His perfect pink lips felt soft and warm against yours, as always. His thumbs rubbed small circles on your hip, as the two of you shared a moment together.

"I've missed you my sæt ást {sweet love},” he said softly, looking at you.

You smiled at him, blushing softly, your nose wrinkling up as you did. "I missed you too."

Elijah couldn't help but laugh, loving the little things that you did. He wished he could tell his parents of how happy you made him, but his father would never allow it. Your father and his own had been feuding for years and the thought of the two of you together had always made him angry.

You noticed the change in him, reaching up and cupping his cheek, running your thumb over the stubble. "What is the matter? Talk to me," you said softly.

Elijah smiled softly, nuzzling his cheek into your hand. He loved that you could read him so easily.

"I hate keeping secrets," he said, sighing. "I hate having to sneak around and lie to everyone."

You bit your lip and nodded. "I know...I don't like it either. I grow tired of hearing how much of a disappointment I am."

His eyebrows knitted together. "Why would they say such things?" He asked, frowning.

"Because I'm supposed to find a suitable husband, not spend my time running in the woods like a child," you shrugged.

Elijah's eyes filled with sadness, the thought of losing you made him ache, and he pulled you closer. Even in the deep winter you smelled of summer trees and freshly picked berries. It was a scent he would never get tired of.

"I have a surprise for you, hjartað mitt {my heart}" you said softly, looking up at him.

He arched an eyebrow, the smile returning to his face. "What is it?" He asked, his curiosity peaked.

"Come," you smiled, taking his hand and leading him deeper into the woods.

He admired how quick you were on your feet, no one knew the forest better than you. Elijah had often found himself lost in it, when he would go off on his own. And when you had learned of this, you had spent every spare moment, teaching him where to go and how to get there.

In return he had taught you how to hunt and use a sword, although you would much rather use an axe. He had never met a woman like you before, a woman who was not afraid to speak her mind or try new things. You pushed him to take risks he otherwise wouldn't have, and he was thankful for that. He had fallen hard for you and he would do anything to keep you by his side.

After a few minutes you stopped, the sound of running water could be heard. You led him through the trees, pushing some branches aside as the two of you reached the clearing.

The moon cast a glow over the small pond, the water was crystal clear, and steam rose up from it. Elijah looked at you in shock, and you could only smile.

"I must confess, I've been keeping this place to myself for a while," you said, walking over to the edge of the water.

He watched you kneel down and dip your hand in the water. It was warm. "How is it like this?" He asked, tilting his head.

"A gift from Njord or perhaps Logi himself," you shrugged.

He walked over and did the same. The water was a welcoming feeling and he could already feel his muscles relaxing. Elijah looked over at you, watching as you removed your cloak and let it fall to the ground.

"ástin mín {my love}," he said softly, watching you pull your hair out of its braids.

You turned your head to look at him. "Come, let us enjoy the heat of the water together."

Elijah was hesitant at first, he did not wish to anger your father, or his father for that matter. But, when he saw you begin to undress, all thoughts of going back left his mind.

"You can't come in with your clothes on, my sweet," you giggled, as you slipped off your underdress.

You let it fall to the ground, shivering slightly as you stood in front of him. His face was priceless, his eyes wide, cheeks flushed. You could not help but laugh, shaking your head.

"Come Elijah," you smiled, walking over and undoing his cloak.

He swallowed, his nerves beginning to get the best of him. "But-" he whispered, as you continued to undress him.

"Do you not trust me?" You asked, looking up at him.

His heart pounded as he looked into your eyes. Of course he trusted you. It wasn't that. It was the fact that he was about to be fully exposed to you.

"Yes," he whispered.

You smiled and leaned up, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

"It's not like we haven't seen each other before," you whispered, smiling softly.

He could not help but smile, and he nodded. "Yes, but not...like this."

It was true, you and him had snuck away and had fooled around in the woods once or twice. But, it had never been this intimate before. You never had the chance to be fully exposed, to take your time, it was always a rush of kisses, groping hands and quick pleasures.

You pulled him closer, and kissed him once more. This time the kiss was deeper, and he felt himself melt. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him flush against your body, as you continued to kiss him.

"mér er kalt {I am cold}" you said, smiling against his lips. "muntu halda mér hita? {will you keep me warm?}"

"Já," he whispered, kissing you again.

"Gott" you smiled, pulling away.

The sight of your naked body sent his head spinning, and his mouth dropped open. Elijah could not take his eyes off you, as he watched you slip into the water, your hair flowing behind you. You turned to look at him, beckoning him in, like a goddess from a myth.

Elijah had never taken his clothes off faster, he was careful to not fall over. He stepped into the warm water, the feeling of it enveloping him, relaxing his aching body. The warmth seeping into his bones, the steam rising up into the cold night.

You swam over to him, smiling, and took his hand, pulling him towards the small waterfall. The water was shallow there, and you sat down on a rock, the water covering most of your body.

His hands came to rest on your waist, and he looked at you, his brown eyes filled with lust. He moved closer, his fingers tracing circles over your skin, as his lips ghosted over yours.

You could feel his breath on your lips, as you reached up and cupped his face, pulling him closer. Your lips pressed against his, his hands roaming over your body, as you tangled your fingers into his dark hair.

The two of you stayed like this for a while, just enjoying the feel of one another. It had been a long and cold winter, and it was nice to finally spend some alone time together.

"How long have you known of this place?" He asked, his voice soft, and low.

You shrugged. "Years," you whispered.

"And no one else knows of it?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

"No, it's our place," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He could not help the grin that spread across his face. It was their place. Something no one else knew about, no one else could spoil. It brought him a sense of peace he didn't know he needed.

"Perhaps it was not Njord or Logi, but Freyja who blessed this spot," he whispered.

You hummed softly in agreement, running your hands over his shoulders, and down his chest.

"Why do you say that?" You asked, your fingertips dancing over his skin.

"Because," he said, his fingers trailing up your sides. "She approves of our love," he smiled.

You shook your head, a smile on your face, as you pulled him closer, you could feel his cock against your thigh, and it only made you crave him more.

"Perhaps," you whispered. "She wants us to have many children, and we can only do that if we have a place to make them."

"Oh?" He grinned, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

Your breath hitched, as his lips trailed up your jaw and to your ear.

"You want to have my children?" He whispered, his breath warm on your skin.

You nodded, biting your lip. "More than anything."

He could not help the way his chest swelled, his heart fluttered, at the thought of having a family with you. To be able to hold a tiny version of you in his arms. He knew he would love them as much as he loved you.

"Then perhaps," he whispered, his hands roaming over your body. "We should give her what she wants."

You let out a soft giggle as he lifted you up, placing you in his lap. He sat down on a rock in the shallow end, the warm water coming up to his chest as he held you. He took a moment to look at you, the light of the moon illuminating your skin, making it glow.

"Þú ert svo falleg {You are so beautiful}," he whispered, leaning up and kissing you.

You melted into the kiss, your hands running through his hair. The quiet sound of running water and your soft moans filled the night air, as the two of you took your time with one another.

It was different from all the other times. You had time to enjoy the feel of one another, no longer rushing to be quick. It was a slow and sensual build, as Elijah ran his tongue along your jaw, his lips grazing the sensitive skin.

You were shivering slightly, most of your body was out of the water, but the feel of his body heat, and his warm lips on your skin, kept you from getting cold.

"Elijah," you sighed, your nails digging into his shoulders, as he took a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue swirling around it, causing it to harden. His fingers gently pinching and tugging on the other, making sure they both received equal attention. He could easily get lost in the taste and feel of you, he would worship your body until his dying day.

His eyes were darker than before, filled with lust, his cheeks were flushed. You could feel him twitch between his legs, as you moved closer, his cock brushing against your core.

"Do you remember the first time we were together?" He asked, his hands moving to grip your ass, giving it a soft squeeze.

You nodded, remembering the first time he touched you, how nervous you had been. "I will never forget."

"And do you remember how you asked me to tell you about the stars?" He asked, kissing the valley between your breasts.

You bit your lip and nodded.

"What did I tell you?" He asked, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips.

You swallowed, a small whimper escaping your lips, as his hands found your center, his thumb slowly stroking a spot that sent pleasure through your body.

"Y-you said that the Gods gave them to us, so we would have something to look at, w-when we were separated," you whispered.

"And every night I'm not with you, I just look to the sky, and see you," he whispered, kissing along your collarbone. "I know I will be with you again."

Tears welled in your eyes, as you cupped his face, looking into his eyes. They were filled with so much love and devotion, it took your breath away. You rested your forehead against his, positioning yourself above him, as his hands found your hips.

You took a deep breath and nodded, looking into his eyes. You slowly began to lower yourself onto him, the familiar warm feeling of him, sending pleasure through your body. It was the feeling of being complete.

Elijah was lost for words, when the two of you came together, it always felt like the first time. You fit together perfectly, like you were made for one another. He could feel his chest swell, his heart beating rapidly.

You leaned forward, your hands on his shoulders, and kissed him deeply. Elijah was not ready for you to move yet, and he needed a moment to regain himself. You could feel him trembling slightly beneath you, and it made you smile.

"Are you alright?" You whispered, kissing his neck.

"Yes," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

You smiled against his skin, his scent filling your nostrils. He always smelled of pine and winter air, of comfort and home.

You slowly began to move, his lips finding yours once more. The feel of him inside you was better than you could imagine, the water creating a different sensation than before. Your bodies moved together, the sounds of the forest and the water surrounding you.

He didn't know how long the two of you had been here, it could have been minutes, hours, he was too caught up in you, in the moment. No rush to finish, just the two of you enjoying one another.

The sound of branches breaking made you pause, and your heart jumped in your chest. The two of you froze, peering out into the dark, searching for the source.

Elijah placed his hand on your back, moving you off of him, placing you behind him, as he stood up. You could see the change in him, the warrior within had come out.

He glanced at his sword, left in his pile of clothes, and he cursed himself for leaving it so far away. His body was tense, his breathing shallow, as his eyes scanned the area.

He could hear more rustling, and he felt your hand on his arm, clinging to him. He would not let anyone hurt you, no matter the cost.

The rustling stopped, and Elijah's eyebrows furrowed. His head turned, looking towards the sound, as the branches moved. He could see the shadow of a creature, and he tensed, his fists balling up, as his jaw clenched.

It was too dark to see, the moon had gone behind a cloud, and Elijah was beginning to get frustrated. He heard a soft huff, and two eyes peered out at him, glowing in the darkness.

Your grip on Elijah loosened as the moonlight broke through the trees and illuminated the clearing. A smile tugged at your lips as a large lynx emerged from the woods.

It had been years since Elijah had seen one. Lynxes were rare in the woods, and even rarer to see a fully grown one. They usually stuck to themselves, unless they were protecting their territory, and their cubs. This one was a different color than most, pure white, almost the same color as the snow.

You watched as Elijah took a few steps closer, reaching out his hand. The cat walked over, his tail swaying side to side, his ears twitching. He sniffed Elijah's hand, and nuzzled his nose against it, making him smile.

"You're a handsome fellow," Elijah said, his voice low and soft.

The lynx tilted his head and let out a soft chuff, steam coming from its snout. Elijah scratched behind its ear, the cat closing its eyes and leaning into his touch.

"I've never seen one like him," you said, swimming closer, watching in amazement.

Another branch broke and the two of you turned towards the sound. Your eyes widening, as another white lynx appeared, her fur a little darker than the males. She walked over and bumped her head against his, the two of them rubbing their noses against one another.

The cats walked over and laid down near the water, their coats blending in with the snow. Elijah turned and looked at you, a wide smile on his face, as he swam over to you.

"We're blessed by the Gods," he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up into the air.

You could not help but laugh, nodding your head as he pulled you under him, pressing your back against the rocks on the side of the spring.

"Perhaps Freyja is pleased with our love," you said, biting your lip.

"Perhaps she is," he smiled, his fingers trailing over your skin, as his lips found yours once more.

His hands explored your body, as his tongue explored your mouth. It was soft, yet passionate, a kiss that spoke more than any words ever could.

He spread your legs and eased himself back inside of you, his mouth never leaving yours. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and you smiled against his lips. He took his time with you, slowly building up his pace, his thrusts hitting a spot that made your toes curl.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place, as he kissed along your jaw and down your neck. Your moans filling the air, mixing with the sound of the splashing water, the two of you becoming one.

It didn't take long for you to reach your climax, and you were thankful for the warm water surrounding you, because otherwise, you would have frozen. Elijah followed shortly after, his forehead resting against yours, as his hands tangled in your hair.

The two of you were breathless, and you could not stop the laughter that bubbled up. He grinned, pulling you into his arms, and kissing the top of your head.

"I do not wish to leave," he said, holding you close.

"Neither do I," you sighed, wrapping your arms around him. "But, I think the others might come looking for us if we don't return soon."

Elijah let out a sigh, a small pout on his face. "I know," he said, leaning down and kissing you.

A few smaller lynxes ran out into the clearing, their small paws crunching on the snow. Their fur was the same as their mother's, and they were still a bit clumsy, their legs long and unbalanced. They stopped and looked at the two of you, their ears twitching, before darting back into the woods.

"I suppose it's time to go," you said, looking at Elijah.

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple, "soon, sæt ást {sweet love}. Let's just stay a little longer."

The two of you stayed cuddled in each other's arms, listening to the sound of the water, the two cats resting by the edge of the pool, their heads resting on their paws. You felt at peace, surrounded by nature, in the arms of the man you loved.

The winter would end, and spring would arrive, but no matter what the season was, you would always have this place. This secret, hidden world that only the two of you knew about. A place where you could come and spend time with one another, without worry, or care.

A place that would always be filled with love, and memories, that would live on forever.

Fun Norse mythology facts!!

Njord is the god of the sea / water. Logi is the god of fire. Freyja is the goddess of love and fertility, her chariot is pulled by two cats, the only large cats in northern Europe are lynxes!

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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youlikefanficdontyousquidward · 18 days ago

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By moonlight

Adar x Fem!Elf!Reader

Part One, Two, Three, Four- New lives.

Summary- Adar has to protect what's his.

TW: Assault, attempted SA,

Mordor, Land of shadow. A new home land for Uruks and those men who swore their allegiance to Adar. Its ash sky shadowed rolling hills of burnt trees and half decimated villages. Yet life prevailed.

The men of the land knew how to tend it and now under their Lord worked to turn soil. The earth was then dug up and the burnt land buried under fresh dirt from below. The old crops were pulled, any surviving to be planted again or used to feed the people.

Life was hard under the smoke. The seaman's horses had been hunted down and now food was growing scarce and tensions where on the rise. The few livestock left were found and rounded up, far too few to feed everyone in the months to come.

Winter was still far off but the thick black clouds above blanketed the frigged air from the suns warmth. In the chill you hugged Gurbaur closer. He'd stopped fussing to be free after a few moments in the cold and now huddled close to your neck. He'd already grown so much from when you'd first met, now able to run on his short legs.

You kept your head down as you passed through the village. Many homes had been badly damaged when the mountain first split. With so much to do most holes had just been boarded up or covered in cloth. The newer men were here, awaiting their orders, fresh burns marking them now as people of Mordor.

They didn't look kindly on you however. Whilst the Uruks had been strangely sweeter since the mountain, something you'd chalked up to their happiness in their new home. The once southlanders looked at you with increasing bitterness. You'd started to wear your hair over your ears but it seemed in vain. You'd been singled out as the outlet for their hate. The she-elf without Adar's mark.

You reached the largest building left standing, a stone structure that had once served as a tavern. This was now where Adar planned for the future of his children. Glûg stood guard at the open door, his expression splitting into a fanged grin as you approached. You returned his smile, letting it lighten your heart before passing into the large room beyond.

Adar stood over one of the large tables, a map laid out beneath his splayed arms. You watched his brow furrow, allowing yourself to appreciate his features openly while his eyes where preoccupied. You admired his strong arms clad in dark chain mail and his large veined hands before announcing yourself.

"Melda..." He rasped, rising to his full height and stepping towards you. His hand laid on his armor, above his heart, before he took your free hand in his own.

He'd been different since the founding of Mordor. Bolder, brighter and infuriatingly charming. Your sure your constant blushing and stumbled words were obvious to him and yet he kept you here. Stranding you on the knifes edge, teetering so very close to something more. Something that ignited a fire within you.

"My Lord." You dropped your head in a bow. Your breath stuttered when you felt the cool tip of his gauntlet beneath your chin. He raised your face back to him, trailing the metal gently up your cheek and tucking your loose hair behind your ear. The sensation on such sensitive skin heated your skin despite the cold.

He turned from you, a loose smirk still pulling at his lips, to great Gurbaur. The boy babbled at him, baring more fanged teeth in his smile. Adar took him from your arms, bouncing him and cooing. The sight made you melt on the spot.

"One of my children has returned from the woods quite badly injured. I hope you can spare your Amya" Adar spoke to Garbaur. If you could blush any brighter, Adar referring to you as mummy would certainly do that.

...

Adar wished he could've had you stay. Warm his side as he labored over the building of his kingdom. His children came and went, bringing new problems to his attention. The least he could do for them was sacrifice time with you to ensure their wounds were properly treated. In turn the least he could do for you was watch Garbaur. The boy currently sat with Glûg as Adar studied the map, planing for new homes, farm lands, ect. Though his mind kept drifting from the task.

Adar was no fool, he'd seen now that the thundering in your chest around him was not fear. Your heart, that's what you'd called him in the barn and you were his. He would not claim you yet though, he would take it slow for you, let you come to him at your pace. He was sure it would take some time for you to want to hold his blighted face again. Maybe even more to stop shuddering under his touch.

He was lost in memories of your soft hand on his cheek when Garbaur tugged on his tunic. The hour was drawing late and the scant light was failing to penetrate the clouds. Adar asked Glûg to take him to the other little ones to rest. He would find you.

The injured were taken to a home with a smashed out entrance. It hadn't been repaired yet as it made carrying in those who couldn't walk easier. Adar suspected to find you here, having lost track of time in your focus. You'd always treated his children with utmost importance. Not leaving their sides until you were satisfied they would heal with no complications. It was yet another thing about you that he adored.

You were not to be found here however. His Uruks and a few men rested peacefully on bedding or in cots. He spotted the scout that'd been injured today and roused him. He'd just laid to rest not long before Adar had come in. Adar frowned, a pit growing in his gut.

"Your Lady just left Lord Father..." The scout paused, his face scrunching.

"What is it my child?" Adar pressed.

"'s just. She seemed jumpy 'bout something. I asked but she told me not to worry, just to rest." He said moving to rise. Adar placed a firm hand to his shoulder keeping him in place.

"And she's right, you are still injured my son. Sleep, I will find her." Adar ordered gently.

He left their infirmary swiftly after that. Adar's heart raced as his keen eyes darted around the village. Uruk walked across dirt paths back to their beds and families. The night watch stretched at door steps, preparing for their duties ahead. Mothers called for their children and children ignored them for a few moments more of play.

Then a shout. Half strangled out, barely heard even by him and he was running.

...

You held your gut, doubled over and air knocked from your lungs. You coughed trying desperately to draw air despite the pain in your chest. A hand to your throat forced you upright again, squeezing as your vision blurred with tears.

You'd almost finished with the scouts wounds when you'd caught sight of a man lingering by the broken stone entrance. He leaned there as casual as he could but you could see the nervous energy he held. The way he never stopped twitching or looking when he thought you wouldn't see.

It wasn't far back to Adar, just across what would've been the village square. If you walked quickly you'd be there in minutes. If you ran you could be there in less but you couldn't. With the tensions you'd noticed these last weeks it would only make more trouble. Best, you thought, to just head out as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

You'd barely made it past the first building when you were grabbed. A sweaty hand clamped over your mouth as you were dragged further into the gap between buildings. You'd never asked for your sword back, never felt a need for it before now. Still you had fight in you and manged to stomp down hard on the man's foot.

For a moment you were free, until a hand grabbed your dresses neckline, tearing it. You turned to the assailant, landing an unsporting kick to his groin. They'd forgone any honor in this fight when they'd attacked you as a group.

You fought them off the best you could but a group of five men against yourself unarmed proved beyond your ability. Your arms ached where you'd blocked hits and you'd failed to notice the now limping man's fist before it struck your temple. You yelped but that was when the fist hit your gut.

"Let's see what makes you so special then." The man holding your throat grunted. You clawed at his hand, his wrist, as far up his arm as you could reach but it didn't loosen his hold.

"Probably lifted her skirt for the Lord Father..." Another spat. He pulled a dagger from his belt before using it's point to tear a split into your skirt from your hip. He jumped back as you tried to kick him, only to catch your ankle.

"Don't see her mark here..." He grinned. You choked out protests, squirming to get away from his grimy hand trailing down your calf. "Maybe it's someplace else."

You felt the cold air more keenly now. Aware of just how much your dress had torn at the neck. That if it weren't for your stay, that you'd be bare to them. They seemed to notice your dawning horror and it fueled a cruel laughter amongst them.

"Nah, don't think he marked any part of her. She's just a toy for those animals I bet. You've see that spawn of hers!" The man at your throat barked.

He slammed your head back against the stone wall behind you. Letting you crumple to the ground in a heap. Your vision was filling with dark patches as you fought to stand, to run. Above you the sound of belts undoing made your blood run cold.

"My turn..." One growled.

You pressed your back to the wall, using it to try leaver yourself up on shaking legs. You went to meet the man's eyes to resist with everything you had but they were gone. His whole head seemed to have vanished and for a moment there was silence. Like a felled tree his body tilted then collapsed all at once into the mud with a wet thwack.

The sound seemed to break the trance and the other men were suddenly running or on their knees, groveling. Adar stepped past them, the commotion having drawn him and his children to you. You saw Glûg beyond him, his face harder than you'd ever seen it, with a twisted blade held to a whimpering man.

The adrenaline seemed to leave you then and you pitched to the side on unsteady feet. Adar was there in a flash, his cloak unclasped and pulled round your shaking form. You clung to its warmth, his scent, as your fear broke free from your mask. Hot tears streamed freely down your cheeks and through their blur you watched Adar's children drag back the ones that ran.

Adar himself stood steadying you, his hand feather light against your shoulders. You saw him glance down at you, his expression unreadable though his jaw ticked. He gave his orders in black speech and ushered you away from the scene.

You didn't need to understand his words to get their meaning. Before you'd even made it half way back to the old tavern building you'd heard the violence begin. A part of you wanted to clutch your ears and deafen yourself to the sound. Another deeper, shameful part relished the sound of those men meeting foul fates.

Adar stayed close but after your steps became more sure his hand left your shoulders. You missed the touch, the anchor to the moment that kept your mind from spiraling into what if's? It wasn't until he returned to your sight, sat next to the fireplace that you felt your mind snapping back.

"Andúnë..." Adar whispered. The crackling of the fire was the only other sound save your short fast breaths.

Adar was crouched by the chair he'd left you in. His expression was tight, a hard line between his furrowed brow. In his hands he held a dark tunic and some britches. You managed to will yourself back into motion, taking the clothes from him. He left you to get changed, only returning from the second floor of the tavern after calling out to you.

He paused for a moment, looking down from the steps at you. You considered his expression a moment and agreed you must look strange. Whoever the clothes belonged to they were certainly not a good fit. The tunic, likely meant to stop at the thigh, hung low to your knees but tight around your hip. The short trousers reached your ankles but were tight around your legs. You were glad the tunic hid the straining seems.

"I will find something more fitting in the morning." Adar spoke at last. "There are furs on the bed, I will find something warm to eat."

Adar moved to leave and without thought you reached out. Your hand grasped around the cool metal of his chain mail, gripping his elbow. Adar stopped, his bare hand settled over your own and you relished the warmth.

"Don't go." You whispered.

"I will send for a meal then." Adar responded.

He spent the evening by your side. A comfortable silence settled over the scene and you felt your heart lighten. When your stomach was full and your eyes began to droop, Adar lead you upstairs. He left you to crawl into bed, wrapping yourself in the soft fur and blankets.

...

You awoke slowly with the sun. The dull glow was soft behind the curtains and the pain in your skull was nothing but a memory. The events of the previous day felt distant but you knew you'd have to face the world again soon.

When you relented and left the warmth of the bed you took in the room. Last night you'd been so tiered and it'd been so dark, that you'd not appraised anything before collapsing into the furs. It was sparse, either looted for useful items recently or never having had them before. Just a simple table sat opposite the large bed, a wooden chair beside it and a basen atop it.

On the chair there rested a change of clothing, one you assumed now Adar had brought in the night. You hoped it'd not been a bother, you had a home, friends, all because of him. The idea that you were a nuisance now began to worm it's way into your mind.

You tried to shake loose the thought, instead running your fingers over the new dress. It was elven, you believed, maybe from the watch tower? A deep forest green, with subtle embroidery in an identical coloured thread. Ivy patterns looped and traced down the bodice and hung loose down the length of the skirt. You removed your clothes, folding them gently on the bed and slipped the new shift and dress on.

You twirled a little, lost in the way the billowing sleeves and skirt danced like the branches of a great willow. You didn't notice Adar's figure until the spinning had you giddy.

"It's beautiful, thank you Adar." You beamed.

"Beautiful." He parroted before his eyes drifted down and a grimace set his expression.

It stung a moment before you remembered your injuries. Likely now the cut over your eye would have scabbed and a deep purple bruise would be forming there. You could only imagine how your throat may look. If the mark would a have the distinctive shape of that man's fingers.

"I want you to stay here." Adar said firmly.

"But..." You began before Adar met your gaze. His eyes were intense, wild but also tinged red with dark circles formed bellow. He'd not slept.

"Thrak is bringing Garbaur to see you, he'll do so every morning." Adar explained but your mind had shifted to the bed you'd spent such a good nights rest in.

"Where did you sleep?" You said.

"What?" Adar rasped.

"Last night. Where did you sleep?" You reiterated. You caught an almost guilty look before he answered.

"Downstairs and I will continue to." He answered.

"No." You crossed your arms.

"No?" Adar almost chuckled.

"No. I will not sleep up here knowing your down there laying on the floor or something." You said.

"There is bedding, I..." Adar began.

"Then take it up here." You said more firmly.

Adar relented and as you ate a morning meal he hauled more furs and a bedroll up the stairs. There was something very amusing watching such a domestic scene unfold while Adar was still clad in his armor. You realised then that you weren't sure you'd ever seen him in less, though the thought brought a blush to your cheeks.

He rejoined you as soon as his task was done, just as you prepared to leave the table. You turned in your seat to face him but didn't need to crane your neck. He'd dropped to his knee by you and now held out a sheaved dagger.

"I want you to have this." Adar said in a low throaty whisper.

You took the blade, pulling it from its scabbard as you did. The metal was the same dark grey of uruk blades you'd seen. It lacked the distinct curve to it, as well as the jagged design. Instead it seemed all too familiar. It was Adar's. His own dagger, it's pattern mirroring his sword.

It seemed too precious then and you moved to push it back to him. His hands fell on yours then, curling around them and returning the blade to it's scabbard. You looked to him but his eyes were cast down, long strands on dark hair covering much of his face.

"Keep it on your person always. Concealed." He said like a prayer. "I will fetch your sword too."

In that moment you saw in him the heavy weight of guilt. That in his mind what had happened were somehow his own fault. You brought a hand gingerly to his face. If he'd chosen he could've dodged it, pulled away but he didn't. You pushed the hair from his face and gently cupped his jaw. His eyes flicked back to your own and were filled with such a sorrow it made you ache.

"This was not your doing." You assured him.

He scoffed at that but didn't move from your grasp. He seemed to lean closer in bringing his own bare hand to press against yours. Your heart quickened at the action and you felt a heat across your skin. It was quite the sight, Lord Adar clad in his armor on his knees before you.

"It was my men, on my land." He growled before his face softened again.

He moved your hand from his cheek to his lips and pressed them into your palm. The kiss against the now white scar, your promise to Thrak almost a year ago. The heat in your body seemed to pool lower and you felt almost dizzy when he spoke.

"You are mine to protect."

#adar fanfic #adar x reader #the rings of power imagine #my fics

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kissitbttr · 2 months ago

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frat!miguel is going to be in a slight delay (because torturing u guys are good hehe) so here is a little something of muñeca with frat!toji before she started dating frat!miguel

—

she flutters her eyes open, letting out a small yawn before craning her neck to the side. a small smile graces her lips when she realizes it’s not her bed. but a lovely man’s who’s had his hand wrapped around her waist protectively.

his eyes are shut, still deep in a slumber. strong, sculpted body uncovered by the blanket and it makes her feel lucky to know that she’s the only one who gets the privilege to see it.

she moves herself closer to his chest, feeling him move and grunt a bit but his hand isn’t moving. lips tucked under his chin before giving the soft skin a few butterfly kisses,

hearing him sigh out of contentment, his hand squeezes her bare waist, drawing her to give more.

delicate fingers trace slowly up to his biceps and shoulders, then down to his chest. giving it a gentle touch before moving to rest upon his abdomen to tease.

“is this your way of asking for a morning sex, princess?”

she hears him speak in that sexy morning voice she’s grown to love over time. giggling against the space between his neck and collarbone,

her eyes look up to see him still closing his eyes, yet a small smile patched on his scarred lips. moving her head a bit upwards to peck it,

“are you complaining?” she teases, fingers moving a few bits of his hair that clings against his forehead,

he grunts as a disagreement, head shaking as his large hands slides down to the fat of her thigh and tugging it over his hip. “feel free to shoot me if i ever turned you down, baby”

she laughs at his comment before settling herself a bit more comfortably. kicking the blanket off and move her body on top of his, causing him to lay flat on his back. his eyes slowly begin to open, smile growing wide when a clear sight of his pretty girlfriend comes into view.

“as much as i wanted to, you really worn me off last night, toji” she sighs, hands cupping his cheeks. “i’m still sore”

he scoffs, running his fingers up and down her waistline. “if i recalled, you’re the one who asked to give it to you harder”

“baby, what you did to me last night was brutal”

“that’s what you wanted though?”

“you fucked me like a whore!” you argue through a small laugh, “i swore i felt like my pussy was about to be torn apart!”

“but i treat you like a princess don’t i?” he cocks an eyebrow, seeing her clamp up after that. “all the after care cuddles and shit too—i even ran to the store last night to get you food!”

“okay, okay, you win—jeez” a roll of her eyes makes him chuckle, large hands move to slide down her ass and squeeze it. “you’re lucky you’re handsome”

“hmm” he connects his lips with hers, “got any plans to do today?”

“cheer practice and group study today” she informs, breaking away from the kiss. “i have a chem test tomorrow and gloria wanted to study together”

“i can drive you back to campus if you wanted?” toji offers, sitting up straight and rest his back against the headboard. “can’t let my baby going back alone”

her head tilt to the side, lips form into a small pout as if she’s thinking with her boyfriend’s fingers running through her hair softly. “i’d love that but i think the guys at my uni would kill you”

toji could only scoff at the silly thought. “are you talking about the guys from the fraternity? i doubt it. i hang out with glen and carlos at most times, it’s just that one dude who has a problem with me”

“are you talking about o’hara?” curiosity lingers in her tone, “he has a problem with almost everyone, baby”

toji shrugs, “i don’t think so. carlos mentioned that man has a crush on you and wanted to kill me for ‘stealing’ you away—not my fault that i got you first before that asshole did”

a giggle falls off her lips as she raises herself up to sit on her knees, giving toji a perfect view of her naked breasts and he has a very hard time holding it together.

“and what? are you going to fight him for simply wanting to be his girlfriend?”

“don’t even joke about that” he warns, not liking the idea of miguel dating his pretty girl. “but if it’s get down to it? yeah i’ll beat his ass”

biting down onto her lower lip, she moves closer to him. “you’d definitely win”

“mhm, i would, wouldn’t i?” he smiles cockily, patting his thighs for her to sit in which she obliges. “are you going to patch me up after?”

“of course i will” she nods, thumb grazing her favorite feature of him. his scar. “i’ll be such a good nurse to you”

he groans, head thrown back. “hearing that should not have turned me on” his fingers,

“well—“ she looks at the clock next to his bed. “i got an hour left before i have to go… what do you say we use the twenty to have a little quickie?”

“there’s no quickie with you, pretty girl—make it thirty?” he negotiates,

“deal!”

—

my writing is so off after not doing it for months:( but i hope u enjoyed it nonetheless!

#frat!toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro blurbs

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phantomskeep · 6 months ago

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Putting the "Fun" Back In "Funeral" Chapter 4

AO3 | Chapter Three --- Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Gotham's One-Stop Shop For Villainy The first thing Danny noticed about this dimension was it smelled. A polluted haze hung heavy over the sky, casting the urban jungle in a dark mist and assaulting the halfa’s nose with the sharp tang of gasoline. Loud big-city sounds filled his ears as he caught himself in the midst of his free-fall, leaving the man distorted. It was so much different compared to his Keep in the Zone. To be pulled from a place of near-constant quiet into a realm full of honking horns, shouts and sirens was enough to have Danny reel his aura back in. The ambient ectoplasm around him felt sticky, and wrong, like the very air around Danny had been contaminated by something dark and sinister. He pulled his atmospheric spirit back, tugging where he could feel all the tiny little souls around him closer to himself. Bit by bit, his range of feelings depleted until he almost couldn’t feel the filth that surrounded him. Small pants left his lungs by the time Danny could only feel a tiny circle around himself that pulsed with his aura as he tried to keep a lid on his powers that desperately wanted to run free.

Attempting to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of not sensing the people around him, as well as the general unclean feeling of touching such disgusting ectoplasm, Danny spun in a small circle to try and get his bearings. The portal created by the Skeleton Key left him hovering over an old clocktower bathed in the haze of the city. Looking around proved to be near-futile, because even with his superior sight, Danny could barely see the street from where he floated.

The young man shifted the bags thrown over his shoulder, nervously looking around while trying to catch his breath. Clockwork had said his friend would be waiting for him, so where…?

“Hello, my King.”

A feminine voice caused Danny to startle, turning quickly to face the ghost that snuck up on him. The being before him reminded Danny of Shadow, almost. Their form was pitch black against the backdrop of the Victorian clocktower, constantly moving and shifting like a wispy fire. Piercing red eyes bore into him, causing him to nervously rub the back of his neck.

“Hi,” Danny spoke slowly. “Are you the one Clockwork told me about? The Spirit of Gotham?”

The ghost chuckled softly, moving their wispy form closer to Danny. A belated wisp of cold air worked its way out of his throat, letting him know another of the Realms was close. “I am, young King. You may call me Lady Gotham, the protector of this city.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Gotham. I’m Danny Phantom.” He said, remembering the many hours he spent with Pandora and Dorathea drilling the proper mannerisms into his thick skull. Danny bowed at the waist, ignoring how the two bags he carried knocked against his knees. “Thank you for allowing me into your domain and protections. I will treat your lair as my own– with the utmost kindness, respect, and haunting that should be given to any member of the Realms.”

“I accept your gratitudes and give my own, King Phantom.” Lady Gotham’s voice was steady when she spoke the traditional greetings of the Zone, unlike Danny’s own unsteady cadence. Danny rose from his bow to see the other’s form in her own imitation of a respectful stance. After a beat, she rose from it to meet his eyes again.

The young king grinned at the shifting shadow in front of him, allowing excitement-nice to meet you to leave the tight leash he had on his aura to tentatively brush against Lady Gotham. A little trill of happiness left his core at the tender hello-nice to meet you-calm that caressed the small bubble Danny had created.

“Come, Little One,” Gotham spoke gently. “Clockwork has left you in my care until your tasks are complete. The ones who are mine have prepared an area for you while you are under my protection. We will head there and I will teach you the cultures of this dimension. Is this acceptable, King Phantom?”

“More than, Lady Gotham.” Danny continued to smile at his new guardian. “But, please, call me Danny. Or Phantom. Just- just none of that king stuff, please.”

A quiet chuckle emitted from the shadow before him. “As you wish, Danny. If we are being informal, feel free to call me Gotham.” She paused, swiveling the area where her eyes rested around to face to her left. The movements reminded Danny of the character No-Face from Spirited Away, a heavy swing of herself in a dramatic full-body maneuver. “We must head north to reach the lair I have created for you, Little One.”

“Lead the way, Lady G!”

The flight over was a quick one, with Danny’s ghostly guide fading from the visible spectrum before taking off. Danny followed suit, taking care to keep Gotham in his tiny bubble. As they traveled, he strained himself to see through the muggy haze that encompassed Gotham’s city. They passed large, towering skyscrapers with flashy signs, massive highways filled to the brim with cars, and Danny could barely make out dark water when they passed over a bridge. There were no immediate outstanding differences between his home dimension and this one. So far everything seemed pretty normal, besides the slimy feeling tingling on the edges of his senses.

From the past couple experiences Danny had with time travel and multiverse hopping, the man was expecting to see something like flying cars or gravity-defying structures. But everything seemed almost normal. Maybe this world wasn’t one of those crazy superhuman filled ones like the one Kitty and Johnny told him stories of. Apparently, their home dimension was pretty wild.

Danny almost lost his ghostly companion when she led him across a wide-open area filled with plants, though he caught up with her when she began to head slightly to the left. They passed more towers, more open areas with the faint sounds of cresting waves against land, until Gotham finally began to slow down.

“This part of my city is called Cherry Hills,” she said as the two ghosts hovered over the city’s buildings. “Many of the areas to the northeastern side of this section are used as housing, the western as warehouses, and the southeastern as workspaces or labs.” The older being began to gently fly further north, slowly leading them closer to the buildings.

As the structures pulled into view, Danny took in the sights before him. A large highway cut through the housing district, and he could easily make out the far-off sight of warehouses leading to docks where a handful of large ships were tied up. A freight train’s blaring horn was accompanied by the flashes of light as it cut through the city’s haze. The raised railings of a metro train track ran alongside the highway. As they continued north, the housing buildings started to look more worn-down, less like their shiny brethren on the east side of the carpath.

“Is this the area I’m going to be living in?” Danny questioned after a while. He wasn’t too concerned about the state of the building he would be occupying - he (kind of) survived the Fenton household for eighteen years, after all -, but the shock of being in a large city was starting to grate on his nerves.

“Yes,” Lady Gotham said as she began to hover over one of the taller residential complexes. “This is the one.”

With that, Danny could only helplessly follow where he could feel her plummeting through the building’s roof. When he crossed the barrier, he let his invisibility go to match Gotham. Her shadowed form lazed within the large studio’s space, letting herself barely brush against the floor.

“Welcome to your new home, Little One.” Gotham swirled closer to him, the edges of her emotions pressing against him in a soothing tone of welcome-this is yours-take it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

An awed breath left Danny as he slowly turned to truly take in the studio apartment he was presented with. The ceilings were high, with one side tilted at an angle to run alongside the roof. Two large windows let the hazy day’s light peak through the panes, washing the area with a gentle glow. A nice-looking kitchen occupied the space’s far corner, and Danny was only a little disappointed to note it would probably not see much use. An open area was broken up with a sturdy kitchen table sitting innocently next to another large window. The corner along the same wall as the kitchen area ran into a cozy-looking living room area, an elevator space acting as a barrier to the adjacent corner.

Danny was a bit perplexed to note that scattered lab equipment filled that space. Did Clockwork tell Gotham that he was a mad scientist or something? But Danny moved on to take in the staircase leading up to an open L-shaped platform. Floating up, he found a cozy-looking king bed greeted him, along with a computer set-up that would have made Tucker drool. He excitedly noted a window with access to a balcony with stairs leading onto the top of the roof was attached to the same wall perpendicular to the one his bed was against.

The young king zoomed next to Gotham, a large smile on his face. “This is awesome! How the heck did you get this all set up?”

An easy chuckle left the other ghost’s form, gentle emotions swaying between the two as they continued to get used to the other. “The people of my city don’t often question when mysterious jobs line up for them. It is part of their culture to not ask too many questions, after all.”

“That’s…” Danny paused, trying in vain to find the morally correct words without offending his host. “Interesting?”

A rumbling purr filled the air, Gotham letting a gentle pulse of amusement ripple against her king. “Interesting is certainly a word for it. Do not fret, Little One, no harm comes to them.”

The young man awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed that his worries were so easily spotted by the older ghost. He wasn’t quite used to having anyone other than the Ancients or his friends read him with such ease - having another do so, even if she was a ghost and Clockwork’s friend, was unusual for Danny. It made him wonder what type of relationship she had with Clockwork, as he had never before seen or even heard of Gotham before now. Before he could question her, though, she swiftly spoke.

“Before we get too distracted, I must inform you of this dimension.” She shifted her way behind where Danny was hovering, seeming to herd him towards his new couch. “Sit, sit. There is no need to be uncomfortable for such a conversation.”

“Wait,” Danny protested. “Let me put my stuff down real quick.” Without waiting for a response, he zipped up to his new bed. Dropping his duffle and Clockwork’s satchel onto the plain blue bed sheet before rummaging around for the journal gifted to him. When he finally found it, the young man flew back to the simple pale couch where Gotham waited.

It was an odd sight to see. A giant, angry looking cloud of smog hovering like an exasperated parent in a picture-perfect looking home.

“Okay,” Danny started as he landed on the surprisingly comfortable couch. He leaned back, relaxing against soft cushions, as he let his transformation wash over himself. “So what do I need to know?”

Surprise rippled across the air at the sight of Danny’s flashy shift, but Gotham was composed when she spoke. “From what Clockwork has told me, you come from a dimension where you are one of three beings who are more than human?”

Giving a small nod, Danny felt like his chest would explode from the hope-excitement-trepidation at what Gotham was implying. “Are you saying there’s, like, people with powers here?!”

“Indeed,” Gotham agreed, her voice lifting at the other’s obvious excitement. “There are metahumans, those with the meta-gene, who are humans with various powers. Others include humans who have been experimented on, had accidents, know the magical arts, or even been subjected to ancient powers. Aliens have begun to call this Earth home, as well. This includes those from Mars, Krypton, Thanegar, Tamaran…” She trailed off, staring at Danny who was physically vibrating. “My king, are you okay?”

“There’s aliens?” He whispered. “You guys have aliens?!”

“Yes, many of them-”

“Holy fucking shit,” Danny jumped up, coming to eye level with a startled Gotham. “Can I meet them?! Can I visit their planets? How many are there, what do they look like, do they have powers?!” The young man was trying to grab onto something in order to steady himself, but his hands kept passing through Gotham’s smokey form. “Lady G, please tell me I can meet them. Please, I will literally die again if I can’t meet actual people who live in space.”

A happy laugh echoed across the apartment’s space, the City Spirit being the source of it. “You are certainly excited about this, Little One.”

“Of course!” He exclaimed, waving his noodle arms around. “Space is so cool, G. It’s the greatest thing ever, I love it! I’ve always wanted to explore it, ever since I was a kid.”

“Well, you will be glad to hear that meeting the aliens who call Earth home is something you will be able to do.”

“Do any of them live here? In your city?”

“No,” She said, moving her eyes to look out the large windows gracing the two with a hazy glow. “The Dark Knight, a man who helps protect my lair, does not allow ones with powers to operate within me.”

A curious expression overtook Danny. His excited movements slowed to a halt, and he regarded Gotham with a critical, glowing eye. “Do you want me to take care of him, Lady Gotham?”

Calm-do not worry-amusement gently brushed against Danny, causing him to relax. “As much as I appreciate your protection, Little One,” Gotham said as she faced her king. “The Batman has this rule for good reasons, ones that I agree with.”

Danny’s metaphorical hackles lowered at Gotham’s comment. The piercing neon green of his eyes bled back into their usual icy blue, though the curious look did not leave. “Why’s that? And who names their kid Batman?”

Part of the City Spirit’s dark cloud tried to nudge him back towards his couch. “The Batman,” she began, “is a hero who operates to protect my city. He was born here and donned his cape in order to help those in need from the many criminals who call my territory home.”

Danny gave an involuntary awed noise. “So you guys have heroes here, too?” A dark tendril of smog wrapped around the back of the couch, resting gently against Danny’s neck.

The idea of having other heroes around was something that greatly appealed to Danny. Being the lone super-powered protector of Amity Park for so long took its toll on the young man, even with his human companions. It just wasn’t the same, being the only one with advanced abilities. He had to take the bigger hits, he had to be the one to save his friends if they got into too great of a bind, he had to be the one to try and take on the burden of Amity Park alone when they all went off to find their place in the world. With great power comes great responsibility, after all. And being the Ghost King? Well, Danny had more than enough “great power” to spare.

The thought was just as sobering as it was exciting. Other heroes, super or not, meant that there was something to have caused those heroes to come into play. Some great villain, or a world-ending disaster, or even large crime rates. Lady Gotham only said criminals, though, so maybe there were no supervillains Danny needed to worry about.

“Yes. In fact, there is a large society of both heroes and villains.”

Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.

“But many of the aliens you were so excited to hear about are among those heroes.” Gotham continued, not noticing Danny’s sudden mid-afterlife crisis. “There is the Batman, who is one of the founders of the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Green Arrow, and many others are all part of this superhero society - the Justice League.”

“Okay,” Danny was desperately trying to keep up with this sudden information. “So, Batman is a super-powered dude who helped to start an entire squad of superheroes?”

“He has no powers. The Dark Knight is just a man, same with Green Arrow and many others. They simply are able to keep up with the aliens, gods, and metas.”

Danny paused, taking in a breath. He touched his fingers together, pressing his palms flat. Another breath was taken, this one deeper than the last. With every ounce of teenage angst he still had within him, Danny lifted his hands up together to rest against his forehead before bringing them down in an arch that would have made Sam proud. “What the fuck.”

A laugh rolled from Gotham’s form, his guardian sneakily tightening her protective hold on him. “What the fuck indeed, Little One.”

“Okay, okay-” Danny’s voice cracked with indignation, “So regular everyday humans fight supervillains and are able to keep up with gods? And super-powered aliens?”

“Yes.”

“And one of those humans - who named himself after a bat - is the sole protector of your lair? Besides yourself? And he doesn’t let any of his superhero friends help him?”

“I never said he worked alone. Though, for a long time he did not have any help.”

“Lady G,” Danny said again with exasperation. “I repeat: what the fuck.”

Her only response was to laugh at his expense as he continued to moan about how he couldn’t seem to escape crazy people, no matter what dimension he runs to. The space shared by two multi-dimensional beings filled with an easy warmth.

“So,” Danny started after a couple minutes of his grumbling. “Superpowered people aren’t allowed in your city because one of your protectors is just a man in a… What, fursuit? A crime-fighting fursuit?” He paused, considering, before rapidly moving on. “But there are super-powered people in this dimension who are also heroes.”

“Yes, that is all true.”

The young man took a second, silently thinking, before speaking again. “Okay, okay,” He started. “And the chances that I’m going to have to just… steal all of these ghostly artifacts is pretty high, right?”

“Again, you are correct.”

“So,” Danny said, stretching out the word. “Chances are they’re going to think I’m some sort of villain.”

Gotham made a noise akin to two cars scraping against each other as she hesitated to answer. “There is a chance of that, yes.”

“Great,” he bemoaned, bonelessly flopping around his couch. “Guess it’s time to pull out the ol’ acting shoes. Welcome to Danny’s One-Stop Shop for Villainy.”

Foreign emotions rubbed against the sulking man’s aura, the City Spirit’s feelings of do not fret-all is well-I will protect you soothing Danny’s temperament. “There is no need for all of that, Little King.” When their eyes met, Gotham’s form had smoothed into a rolling fog compared to her usual flaking fire. “If all else fails, you can learn to have some fun with it. Many of the heroes and villains of this world have… gimmicks, if you would, for their respective personas.”

A critical eye was shot to the other ghost. “What do you mean by that? My ghost form’s already pretty gimmicky.”

“But,” she said. “You can always take it to the next level. I would suggest you do some research on the various powers who live within my city as well as this world. You may find some inspiration.” She paused before speaking with a teasing tone. “I also believe that Clockwork told you to blend in? Maybe a name like Inviso-bill would fit right in with the likes of Condiment King and Kiteman.”

“Absolutely not!” He screeched, waving his hands wildly as he bared his teeth. “How do you even know about that?!”

A purr echoed from Gotham’s chest, so fierce Danny could feel it vibrating his own core. “I have my ways, Little One.”

“Fucking cryptic geezers,” Danny sullenly mumbled as he pouted. “I don’t even know where I could get an outfit for stealing stuff, anyways.”

“Were you not planning on doing it in your more ghostly form?”

He stopped, eyeballing Gotham’s face area with a critical eye. The other was facing him, though more of her wispy form had started to curl around his shoulders like a lazy cat soaking up the warmth of the sun. “I thought using powers in your city was a no-no?”

“That does not mean you cannot use your other form,” Gotham’s voice took on a lecturing tone. “You just will not be able to use your powers in an obvious way. It would help to protect your identity, and I know that you know the risks of not being in one of your forms for too long. Clockwork, at the very least, informed me to help you keep track of your health.”

Danny grumbled a bit, remembering the last lecture he endured from Frostbite about his general health. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Can’t I just use my ghost form as is, then?”

“I would not recommend it.”

“Why’s that?” Danny inquired.

Gotham huffed, “Because, quite frankly, there are magic users who know about your coronation. Any being with ties to death - through magic or dying or any other way - heard the Song of Ancients as you took the crown. It will not take long for your influence over the Realms to reach here, and when that occurs they will know.”

“And then the jig is up?”

“Yes, then the ‘jig is up’.”

A loud groan left him, frustration causing Danny to get up and pace. “So, what? I just go around and snatch everything while invisible? Or in the Kingly gear? ‘Cause I don’t think my HAZMAT is the kind of gimmick you’re thinking of. Besides, wouldn’t either form just give everything away from the get-go?”

When Gotham didn’t respond, the young man turned to face her. The City Spirit was staring at him, not saying anything.

“What?” He finally asked when he couldn’t stand it.

“You can change the outfit of your form.” She stated. “Did you not know this?”

Danny nodded his head, “I mean, yeah, I swapped from the robes to my HAZMAT earlier - but I don’t even know how to start on an entirely new outfit!”

The older ghost let out a quiet laugh, “Do not fret, Little One. I can teach you how to alter your form.”

“Can you change yours?” The young man asked, curious. He knew Amorpho could shapeshift and that often a ghost could generally alter their appearance, but he didn’t think he would be able to alter his own.

“I used to be able to,” grief rolled off Gotham in waves, the intensity of it staggering. A dark cloud seemed to roll over the city, the weak light bleeding through the loft’s windows almost completely disappearing. “It was a long, long time ago that I was last able to.”

Danny reached out, letting apologies-you’re okay-I’m okay-we’re safe tentatively brush against his companion’s anguish. “Well, maybe we can figure out how to get you to change forms again. I’ll do some nosying around and figure out the best way to blend in so I can snatch some fun stuff.”

A thankful emotion poked through Gotham’s grief as she agreed with the young man before her. “Until then,” she started. “It might be a good idea for you to settle some more. I need to rest before attempting to mentor you through something as draining as altering yourself.”

“Alright,” Danny easily agreed. “Should I stay in here while you do that, or is it a good idea for me to roam around a bit?”

Gotham paused, considering. “You should be fine to wander, though I would suggest spending time familiarizing yourself with my occupants beforehand.”

“Gotcha,” he gave his new friend a small smile. “Thank you, again, for helping me with this. I really do appreciate it, Lady Gotham.”

“But of course,” she said in a tone full of fondness. “Clockwork has spoken highly of you throughout the years. I am pleased to see his judgment was not misguided.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re pretty chill.” Danny happily moved closer to the City Spirit.

If Gotham had a physical mouth, Danny would bet that she was smiling at him when she spoke. “I will leave you to it, then. If you are in need of anything simply flare your aura. I will feel it, no matter where you are.”

“You got it, Lady G.”

And with that, the Spirit of Gotham faded from the visible spectrum. Danny felt her slip out of his aura’s bubble and he was suddenly alone in a completely new dimension. Which was, apparently, full of superheroes, supervillains, and everything in between. When the young man began walking up the stairs to where his computer was set up, the only thing on his mind was figuring out where Clockwork’s list of artifacts were and which hero he was going to look up first. That Batman dude sure sounded like a good place to start.

╮(╯▽╰)╭

The sheer amount of non-earthly beings that occupied this dimension’s earth was crazy. That was the conclusion that Danny came to hours after Gotham had left him.

It took flipping through old news channels, trolling internet forums, random fan blogs, and even watching a few interviews of various heroes for Danny to get a vague grasp of this new reality. There were some heroes that he couldn’t get a full view of - the Batman being one of them. All he could find were grainy photos of the hero and hints that he wasn’t the only vigilante in the city.

Which would make Danny’s job a bit harder.

During his deep dive into this dimension’s cultures, Danny flipped through the little journal Clockwork had gifted him. His mentor’s steady handwriting listed out the various artifacts he was going to need to find as well as their general location. Many of those artifacts, after using his shiny new high-tech computer to look them up, were located in public places or stored in secret, secure facilities. Yoinking the public ones wouldn’t be too much of an issue for Danny - his abilities would make it rather easy to avoid detection, after all - but he had no idea what a “Fortress of Solitude” was. Or even something as vague as “The Watchtower”. Seriously, some of these places sounded weird.

But others had cities listed out. Star City was obviously a town, he knew where Gotham was (duh), and even places like Themyscira were easy enough to Google. It was with this brilliant deduction that led Danny to believe some of the weirder names weren’t attached to a city at all which was rather worrying.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who asked) Clockwork wasn’t one to steer Danny in a direction the old ghost knew wouldn’t work out. So with a healthy dose of blind faith, Danny chose to focus on whatever artifacts he could easily access for now. This meant Danny spent a decent amount of time casually scrolling through museum articles, even more blogs, and whatever else he could get his grubby little hands on. Honestly, it made the Ghost King feel like he was back in highschool trying to desperately write an entire research essay the day it was due.

The first item on Danny’s newly named “List of Shit I Need to Steal” was an item called the Hand of Greed. According to the Gotham Museum of Natural History’s website, the Hand of Greed was a statuette found in an Ancient Greek city. There were some general facts about when it was found, who discovered it, and how it came into the Museum’s care. The Wikipedia page elaborated more on the lore behind the dark statuette, though.

According to random people on the internet, the Hand of Greed had been found by Ancient Greek farmers after a lightning storm in a graveyard. There was more than a few forums debating on what caused the storm, where the hand came from, and even some people arguing that everything about the Hand was made-up. The forums then led Danny to a dead end - nothing had ever been formally concluded about the relic’s origins. It frustrated Danny a little bit. He wanted to be at least slightly more prepared for his first ever consensual heist. The half-ghost broke away from his hunched position over his desk, popping his back and yawning. The motions of this move caused his stomach to gurgle angrily, reminding Danny that eating was still something he had to do.

The young man stretched himself out, wiggling around his comfy office chair. “Guess I better get some food or something,” Danny mumbled to himself. His eyes didn’t move from where they were focused on his setup’s main monitor, where a picture of the strong fist carved out of black marble rested.

With a dramatic groan meant for no one but himself, Danny spun his chair around. He easily hefted himself off of the space, casually walking to where his duffle bag still rested. He rummaged around, grabbing his wallet before moseying his way to the elevator.

It wasn’t like Danny didn’t want to steal something, per se. As he smacked the “down” button, he considered the morality of taking something that did, technically, belong to him. It wasn’t like the people who found the statue knew it originated in the Ghost Zone - to them it was just an old statue with a weird story behind it.

The elevator arrived with a happy-sounding “ding!” and Danny stepped into the space as he fiddled with the bracelets resting on his wrist. He would have to make a plan to break into the museum, something the halfa was not looking forward to, especially with how little his research brought up. Reaching out, he poked the lobby button before resting his back against the stainless steel walls.

Maybe he could just go in invisibly? This Batman hero wouldn’t even be able to catch him if he never even appeared on camera, after all. It wasn’t like Danny had an identity in this world, anyways. Any hero would be hard-pressed to catch a ghost in the machine. The elevator stopped, doors opening with the same cheery noise.

But, even though Danny hated to admit it, he kind of wanted to meet the heroes of this dimension.

The young man continued to think about it as he walked out of the building’s lobby, not even taking note of the inside of it or the people loitering. Breathing in city smog, Danny pulled his beat-to-hell phone out of where it was resting in his khaki pants. He focused just enough to figure out where the closest convenience store was, slap a pin on his new home, and make his way in the general direction of where he needed to go.

Danny was honestly pretty surprised to see his phone worked. The shock of finding out that yes, his shitty phone did in fact apparently carry a multi-dimensional data plan, brought his attention to money. Lady Gotham didn’t really explain what forms of currency this dimension used, nor did he even consider looking that up.

Which he could solve right now, by using his phone that did somehow work. But where was the fun in that? He had to spice up his obviously too-boring life somehow. All else failed, he would just act like he was from a different country or something. There’s no way that could backfire on him - no siree, no backfiring here. And technically he wouldn’t be lying, either. It’s a win-win either way.

It was with these thoughts that Danny serenely entered a beat-up looking store with various ads decorating its windows. He had about twenty dollars in his pockets when he hopped dimensions, which would hopefully be enough to grab a sandwich or something.

Danny really, really hoped that the currency of this dimension was the same.

After the halfa snagged a decent looking chicken salad sandwich out of the store’s stacked fridges, he found it was at least similar enough to get him the food and a fountain drink. Danny took his change, thanked the cashier, and went back outside. The man leaned his back against cool glass and took out his phone to see how close the museum was to him. If nothing else, Danny could make his way to the place and do a little reconnaissance.

It seemed like something Jazz would want him to do, after all.

The GPS app on Danny’s phone showed him that the Museum of Natural History was down in Gotham’s University District, closer to where he first came into this dimension than where he was now. A forty minute drive by car, apparently, but the halfa was sure he would be able to fly there in under ten. With a small smirk, Danny stuffed his lunch into his mouth as he hurriedly searched for a decent alleyway to shift forms in.

Finding a decent spot proved to be more difficult than he had expected. The city was teeming with life - people spilling in and out of the streets and bustling across warm concrete as they went about their lives. It was after the fourth time Danny wandered into an empty-looking alley, only to find a shady deal going on, that he felt frustrated beyond belief.

It had never been this hard in Amity to find an unoccupied spot to swap to his ghost form in. The spaces between buildings almost never had other people in them, and even when there were all Danny had to do was make it to the next one over to be alone. Here, though, it was proving to be a larger task. People were everywhere and it was starting to get on the halfa’s nerves.

Danny didn’t miss home already, nope. He hadn’t even been in this dimension for twelve hours - he couldn’t break this early.

Finally, after spending way too much time trying to find a discrete area to die, Danny let his transformation sweep over himself. He faded away from the visible spectrum as soon as familiar rings of light sputtered out. He quickly shot to the sky, gazing down on the city below him with delight.

Yeah, it wasn’t Amity Park. There were people everywhere, it smelled horrible, and Danny could still feel the sticky ectoplasm of the city brushing against his aura.

But it was beautiful in its own way.

Towering skyscrapers outline the heart of the city in the distance, windows reflecting back what bits of sky peaked through the slowly lifting haze. Flashing lights rose from between the cramped buildings, washing Gotham’s people in hues of red and blue. The noise was a pleasant backdrop as Danny flew between the streets, a smile gracing his face.

He could see himself getting used to this.

Minutes passed as the halfa twirled between man-made structures, occasionally dropping down to listen to the various people as they went about their day. It was when Danny flew up to the top of a skyscraper, his whole being bursting with joy as he played in the sky, that he felt an angry pulse brush against his aura.

Startled, Danny hovered over the top of the office space. Warily, the young man sent back a questioning feeling - doing his best to keep his little bubble of safety. He was left waiting, anxiety slowly building the longer no ghost appeared on his senses.

Who had sent that? Danny wasn’t quite sure, but the only other ghost he had met in this dimension was Gotham. It had to have been her, but why was she angry?

His guess was proven correct when a black cloud rose from the edge of the skyscraper, sides flared like an avenging angel's wings. Startled, Danny dropped to the roof, taking a few steps back as his hands rose into a defensive position and his invisibility fell. Belated, a wispy breath left his mouth when the older ghost drew closer.

“My King,” Gotham’s angry voice crashed against Danny’s senses. Long gone were the soothing tones from earlier. In their place were sounds that made the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck raise up, his senses screaming DANGER DANGER! “What did I tell you about using your abilities here?”

“I thought that was just for whenever I was stealing stuff!” Danny protested, trying to recall their conversation earlier. “I was just trying to scope out the museum - the Hand of Greed is something on Clockwork’s list.”

Gotham snarled, her form twisting angrily. “No, you shouldn’t be using any of your abilities. The risk is too great.”

Hesitating, Danny warred with himself. On one hand, he didn’t want to piss off his ghostly host on the first day he stayed with her. That was just bad manners, and he knew Pandora would be disappointed in him if he wasn’t polite. However, not being able to use his powers? Ever, as long as he was inside Gotham’s city? That was just too much to ask for, in his own opinion. Danny could understand not wanting him to use his powers to avoid Gotham’s protector’s wrath, but on a day-to-day basis?

Danny wasn’t too sure if he could do that. His powers were part of him and he thought he was finally going to a place where he wouldn’t have to hide who he was.

At the end of the day, though, Danny wasn’t one to try and piss off his allies. He had made too many enemies over the years to be okay with that.

“I’m sorry, Lady Gotham.” Danny spoke, trying to hide the frustration that had so quickly overtook his fear. “I won’t use my powers in your city - unless I am in my apartment.”

The spirit’s form shifted, considering. “Very well, I accept your apology.” She hesitated, for just a split-second, before continuing. “I think it is time we head back to your haunt, Little One. I still need to teach you how to shift forms and I want you to be prepared for when you meet my protectors in a few days.”

“A few days?” Danny asked, confused. That wasn’t his plan.

“Yes,” Gotham said. “Did you not want to get settled before attempting to lift the artifact?”

Danny shot a confident grin at the City Spirit, his eyes alight with mischief. “I know we just met and all, but did you really think I would do anything else?”

“No,” Gotham conceded. “I will do my best to aid you on your heist tonight, but please be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Danny sassed as he let his playful nature wash back over him. “Show me how to change my outfit?”

“As you wish, Little One.”

ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

Gotham’s setting sun cast an eerie, dark red light across Jason’s apartment. The rays washed over him, making it look like the man was stained with spilled blood. Dick had just set off with a cheery promise to see the other on patrol before slipping out the door, leaving his younger brother alone for the small amount of time it took for the sun to set. Soon, Gotham City would be cast into the darkness of night, with the city’s criminal elements slowly spilling onto the streets.

It was during the night that Jason always felt the most alive.

Before, when he was still living in a shitty Crime Alley apartment, it was because that was when Willis would go out. The arguments that came from him and Catherine would scare Jason more than the gunshots on the street. At least those were outside the safe walls of his home, but inside? To him, that was where the real danger lurked in the form of two angry adults.

Then, it was the streets. They had never been safe - but now that Jason was truly a part of them, he had to learn the tricks to stay alive. Part of that meant finding a safe place to squat, to wait out the evils that lurked in Gotham’s shadowed nights. The Bat was known for hunting and hurting criminals - something Willis had raged about more than once - and Jason was just a street rat who stole to survive. He had to stay alert during the lonely nights. Streets clouded in darkness just weren’t safe for a kid.

After the streets, it was being Robin. Fighting alongside Batman, helping give others hope and protection, and doing what he could to make his home just a little safer was like magic. He felt alive, freer than he ever had before that. It wasn’t just the adrenaline pumping through his veins or the thrill of leaping between rooftops, it was being able to help his home.

Jason was Gotham, born and bred in the darkest parts of the city’s heart. More than Bruce, or Dick, or even Babs could ever be - so of course he felt more alive in the comfort of night.

Then, he died, and being alive was never the same.

He was learning how to live with it, slowly but surely. The waves of green rage had originally helped Jason feel more alive, a little bit more sane while he struggled to figure out who he was. But even his own mind had betrayed him, at the end of the day. Basking in the pit rage had become an addiction, a high that he could use to finally feel again.

Within the past few months, Jason’s mind had been slowly coming down from the almost three-year stint of using the Lazarus Pit’s “gift” as a metaphorical emotional shield. It had been rough, trying to notice when it was the artificial rage whispering in his ear or his own emotions coming to the forefront.

Now, though? Oddly enough, even when Jason reached for the space he had learned the Pit coiled in, the green never threatened to take over. Throughout Dick’s impromptu forceful brotherly-bonding day, Jason hadn’t felt a single peep from the corner of his mind occupied by the unwanted side-effects of a green, gooey hot tub from Hell.

It was nice to be alone in his own mind again.

These thoughts raced around Jason’s mind as he went about the motions of getting ready for a normal patrol. It was odd, thinking the last patrol he had been on led him to the Batcave. Jason had been expecting to feel at least slightly off-center with the Pit Rage gone from its sulking corner. If anything, though, he felt more normal than he had in years.

As heavy kevlar fell to rest comfortably against Jason’s body, he noticed a bullet hole in the shoulder of his uniform. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, he examined the damaged spot. That hadn’t been there the last time he donned his metaphorical cape, but Jason was pretty sure he would have noticed if he had been shot.

… He would ask Dick about it during patrol. Maybe that was how he ended up as high as a kitten on catnip?

Slipping his guns into their correct holsters, the young man snatched his bright red helmet from its hidden compartment. An almost feral grin danced across his face - the Red Hood coming out to play was always the highlight of Jason’s day.

When the sun had finished slowly sinking below the smog-filled horizon, Jason meandered down a stealthily hidden passageway to the secret bunker that housed most of Hood’s equipment. He was surprised to find his beloved hotrod-red bike parked in its usual spot – Jason figured he would have used one of his less-used bikes until he was able to get it from the Cave.

He didn’t think too long about it, though, as he grabbed the rest of his gear and dropped down onto the piece of machinery. A loud rev of the engine reverberated between the enclosed walls of his bunker as he pressed a button on one of the bike’s handlebars. Across from him, a large garage door slowly groaned to life. Jason kicked off from the ground, jumping into Gotham’s old tunnel system with practice ease.

The tunnels had originally been part of the Court of Owl’s underground hideouts, but after the Bat-family took down their operations, Red Hood had quickly laid a bright-red claim to them - including the bunker under his building. The tunnel system was near-perfect as it was. Some of it needed a bit of repairs and cleanup, but hidden ways to travel around the major points of Gotham with discreet access points was a resource Jason just couldn’t say no to.

It was through one of these openings that the Red Hood burst into the darkened streets, engine loudly announcing the start of Jason’s patrol to any bystanders who may be in earshot.

He quickly sped through the dimly lit streets, expertly navigating to one of the many areas Jason leaves his bike during the night. Today, he had decided, was going to just be an easy patrol. A nice little stroll through Crime Alley, maybe a stop at one of his favorite twenty-four hour hole in the walls, and then finishing up his night with a well-deserved bath.

With that in mind, the Red Hood grappled up to Gotham’s darkened rooftops, letting the city’s shadows envelope him in a cool, familiar embrace. Street lights flickered noisily, enhancing the darkened figures thrown across well-worn buildings. The great expanse of Gotham’s ever-changing skyline greeted the helmeted vigilante as he began his daily patrol across his home territory.

A thick layer of smog blocked the moon and stars from being seen by the millions of Gothamites, the haze from the day still lingering at the very edges of the giant city. The early spring breeze brought a light chill to the night, making Jason glad he had a layered uniform, unlike when he was a child strutting around in Dick’s old scaly panties.

He tapped the side of his helmet three times, turning on the communication unit built into its protective metals. A quiet chatter of his family greeted him and against his will, Jason felt his shoulders drop just a bit.

“-I’m saying that it’s obvious that Ivy and Harley are going to get married soon.” Dick’s voice was broken up by the sounds of wind sweeping across his speaker, small grunts echoing in Jason’s ear as his older brother danced across rooftops in a well-loved routine.

Stephanie’s response came with the usual hyper rush Jason has learned to associate with his fellow street kid. “And I’m saying that I think they’re going to wait a little longer. We all know how Ivy is about commitments.”

“But she and Harley have been dating for years. If the two of them can survive that tantrum Kiteman had a few months ago, then I think they’re pretty much set for life.”

“Quiet on the line.” Bruce’s gravelly tone was a bit of an unwelcome entry in the friendly banter, making Jason fight to contain the natural tensing of his body. He forced himself to relax, jumping from the roof of a crumbling apartment building and onto an old office building in a much similar state.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, B.” Dick let out a larger grunt, a fleshy sound accompanying it. “Hey guys, mind if I drop in? Seems like you’re all having the party of a lifetime.”

“Fighting on an open line?” Jason drawled, never one to not poke at Dick. “Watch out, Boy Wonder. Daddy-bat’s gonna ground you at this rate.” A single grunt was the only response Jason’s quip earned, making him sneer a bit under his protective hood.

Figures.

Before the gun-slinging vigilante could even get another word in, he heard the “ping” associated with Oracle dragging his communication unit down onto another line. “Hood, I’ve gotten reports of a gang break-in a few blocks from your location. Double back, it’s the building across from where you stored your bike.”

“Of course,” he groaned, but still dutifully skidded to a stop. Jason threw himself into sprinting back across the different roofs he had just parkoured his way over. “Any more information on the situation?”

“Negative.”

“Wonderful.”

It took him a few minutes, but soon Jason was back in the general area where he had started his night. “Is it the jewelers or the pawn shop?” Jason asked the quiet line, staring down at the littered streets.

“The jewelers,” Babs said. “Footage is showing four guys, their getaway driver is waiting outside near the back. Dark blue van. Best to proceed with the burglars then the driver, from what I can see.”

“Got it, going in now.”

“Good luck.”

The large vigilante dropped down in front of the store, scanning through the broken glass. He could barely see the four figures shoving anything they could grab into worn duffle bags. From what Jason could tell, none of them were armed – meaning he was quick to slip sneakily through the opening they had made when one’s back was turned. It was his odd hybrid training that allowed him to move so quickly and silently when his body mass was constantly working against him.

Hood snuck up behind a robber who was rooting around a now-broken glass case. The vigilante’s quiet movements served him well as he suddenly struck his arms out, grabbing the masked civilian around the throat. The man made an aborted shout, alerting his friends to the vigilante among their ranks as the Red Hood turned them around. Now with the thug between himself and his buddies, Jason tightened his forearm against the warm neck he held hostage.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jason’s modulated voice rippled over the thieves. “Surrender or you’ll end up like chucklefuck here.” With the end of his statement, he tightened his grip and swept the other man’s legs out from under him, Jason placing one of his own legs between to keep his prey unsteady.

The thief in his arms started babbling pleads as he desperately squirmed in Hood’s grasp. His friends cautiously lowered their bags, one even going as far as to show Jason his free hand.

“Easy now,” The one furthest from the door said. “We’re just tyin’ ta put food on t’ table.”

“That’s understandable,” The masked vigilante said in a tone laced with half-fake sympathy. “But there’s better ways to go around getting money than robbing stores. Surrender and I’m sure prison’ll teach ya’.”

“Yeah,” The far guy spoke up again. “Not gonna happen, cape.” With that, the dude kicked a heavy rock at Jason with surprising accuracy, forcing him to let go of the squirming criminal in his grasp. As much as Jason would be fine with the dude getting a concussion, he’s sure the other bats would not be so chill about it.

The thief that was caught in Jason’s grapple was busy running, trying to make an epic getaway. It gave Jason time to pull out his handgun and a warning shot was fired, putting a smoking hole into the floor in front of the fleeing robber. The man, to his credit, didn’t flinch at the loud noise and instead kept gunning for the exit where his friends were waiting for him.

With a curse, Jason realized a bit late that the three of them were almost at the door – which he noticed had been disarmed. He slipped his gun back into its rightful place before he raced after the three thieves. As they ran through the store, jumping over jewelry cases and feeling his boots slide across scattered glass shards dusting the floor like deadly fallen snow. The vigilante pulled out a bola set from where it was hanging on his utility belt, aimed as best he could while running, and threw it with terrifying accuracy towards the first criminal in the fleeing line.

The bolas caught on the robber’s legs, drawing them up short. With a panicked shout, the man went down like a live oak – with a heavy crash and shaking limbs. The two behind him stumbled to a frightened stop, obviously startled. Jason used those couple precious milliseconds to gain ground on the group, already planning his next move. A gloved hand reached back towards his belt, gripping onto his last bola set. By the time he was re-noticed by the criminals, he was mere feet away from the trio. One of them let out a surprised noise, fleeing the scene and leaving his friends behind. It was him that Jason aimed his bolas at, easily letting the capture weapon fly and snag the wayward robber.

The last one had been trying to help his friend out, on his knees with a knife frantically sawing through the rope binding his buddies’ legs. When Jason was close enough, he pulled the man up by the back of his jacket and punched him across the nose. The squirming criminals’s hands came up to clutch at the bruised cartilage and Jason slapped Bat-grade handcuffs across his wrists.

“Now,” Jason said as he dropped his prey. He turned to look at the other two, focusing on the man at his feet while the one in his hands squirmed around. “Maybe it’s nap-time for some naughty boys.”

“Let us go, Hood!” The man in his hands yelled, drawing Jason’s attention. “C’mon, man, we got families! Don’t throw us in jail!”

“You should have thought of that before you decided crime was your best option.” The helmeted man practically growled. “What would your family say if they found out this was the way you made your money? Huh?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Hood,” The man on the floor snarled.

“How about you shut up, huh?” Jason snapped, looming over the other. He dropped the handcuffed guy next to the one on the floor before manhandling the un-handcuffed guy around to turn him into a newly-minted handcuff guy. “Time to take care of your last pal, boys.” But when Jason lifted his head towards the exit of the darkened store, all he saw was his now-sawed bolas and a wide-open door. “Oh you have got to be shittin’ me.”

With a quick tap to his helmet, Hood rejoined the open line Gotham’s vigilantes used to alert when a crime was stopped as he ran through the open doorway. “Oracle, got two of the four. They’re locked up in cuffs, in pursuit of the others.”

“Noted,” Bab’s steady voice filled Jason’s ears. “I’ve got eyes on their get-away car and contacted GPD - so far they’re heading south through the Bowery.”

“Got it. Do I have time to grab my bike or am I using the Rooftop Express tonight?”

“Get the bike, they’re not slowing down.” Oracle paused for a split-second, no doubt cross-referencing the activities of all the vigilantes roaming the streets. “Red Robin will cut them off if they start heading east.”

Red Hood huffs as he spots his bike, having raced over from the now-destroyed shop. “Sounds good,” he started his bike with a deafening cry from the engine, adrenaline pumping through the ex-crime lord’s veins. It was odd, to be so excited for a chase and not feel r agerageragerage in the far corners of his mind, threatening to cloud his thoughts with mindless violence. “Streets?”

As Oracle rattles off the street name Hood’s suspects are using to attempt to get away, the man uses his modified bike to its greatest potential. Weaving through traffic was something Jason was used to - it was as natural as grappling across rooftops for the young man. To slip between cars while traveling at high speeds was a rush he craved. Add in the hunt of criminals? Well, Jason was as happy as a Bat with a cold case.

When Jason spotted the criminal’s van, they were deep into the heart of Gotham. He had chased them through the Bowery, over the Robins Bridge. Gotham itself was a city made up of multiple islands - each broken up by different inlets bleeding into the Gotham Bay. Sprang River separated the northernmost parts of Gotham from the older parts of the city, like the Upper East Side, Diamond District, and University District. As soon as Barbara informed Jason that his suspects were heading through the Upper East Side, a plan started to formulate.

The Upper East side was broken into a grid pattern, much like how New York City was. If Jason could speed through the lesser-used streets parallel to 35th, then there was a chance he could cut them off. A quick one-handed pat down of his bike’s stylish saddlebags confirmed he had a set of tire spikes. Hidden under his hood, an excited smile grew.

“Hey, Oracle,” Jason cut off the red-headed wonder’s listing of streets. “I’m going to spike the van. What’s the traffic lookin’ like?”

There was a pause before a resigned sigh filtered through Red Hood’s helmet. “Traffic is mostly clear, they’re closing in on Robinson Park now. Best thing to do is try and get them in that area - it gives me time to stop traffic around there.”

“Perfect,” Hood purred as he pushed his bike faster, expertly weaving around the late-night commuters. In just a few minutes, Hood got the confirmation from Oracle that now was a good time to enact their plan. With a quick twist of his body, Jason’s bike dodged between skyscrapers as he burst onto the main road in the Upper East Side. The criminal’s van was just barely behind him and, having no time to maneuver, ended up driving over the spikes Red Hood threw into the road.

A pop and the eerie screeching of machinery enveloped Jason’s senses as his prey struggled to keep their getaway vehicle under control. When it finally crashed into a light pole, an odd quiet seemed to brush over the city. With an expert flick of his foot, Jason lowered his bike’s kickstand before stalking over to the smoking van. He brought a padded elbow up, smashing the window in a practiced move. As glass fell like a dangerous snow, he paused to take in the sight of the criminals before him.

The van’s airbags had deployed, leaving his two runaways unconscious in their seats. With a huff, the vigilante opened the driver’s door. He checked over the two thugs with practise ease, making sure there were no injuries he may need to know about before moving them out of their now-busted van.

“Got them, Oracle,” Hood said, pulling the two men out of the van. He set them a few feet away, zip-tying their hands and feet together. “Cops on their way?”

“They’ll be there in two minutes. Any chance you can pick up the spikes?”

“Sure,” Jason agreed easily, sauntering his way down the street. He could see the faraway headlights of cars heading his way as he rolled up the spikes. As the black-haired man secured them back into the saddlebags, he heard the distant sound of sirens.

“You best get a move on, Hood,” Oracle cautioned. Typing joined her speech, urgency picking up in her voice as she directed him. “Looks like there’s been a break-in at the History Museum. You’re the closest unoccupied.”

“Seriously?” Jason groused, hopping back onto his bike. He left the criminals in a trail of exhaust right as the Gotham Police Department showed up. The vague threats they made followed the Red Hood as he sped towards the University District. “You know I hate that place.”

“Well, sucks to suck. Batman and Robin are currently chasing down a lead on Penguin’s drug trade, otherwise I would send the two of them.”

Hood paused, his brain going to places he definitely did not want it going. “New lead or the one from yesterday?”

“New lead - Red Robin and Orphan picked it up while you were indisposed.” With a sigh, Hood parked his bike in a random alleyway, taking note of the streets near it. The large man grappled his way up to the roof of the building before starting to parkour his way towards the museum, grumbling the entire way.

It wasn’t that Jason didn’t want to stop a thief, or that he was embarrassed about being drugged the other day. No, it wasn’t that. A fight was something Jason pretty much welcomed every night he donned his guns and helmet. The museum was simply too full of times before. Before he had died, when things were just a bit easier. When it was just him, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. Back when he wore the scaly panties and hid in Batman’s cape. When banter and quips thrown at villains came easier to him, when he thought Batman would always be there to catch him when Jason fell.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had changed about the museum since the last time he was there, six years ago, stopping Catwoman with Batman. From doing his best to ignore the flirting between his father mentor and the thief.

Now, instead of the hand-me-down Robin uniform, it was the Red Hood armor Jason wore to strike down a thief.

Jason’s musing cut off as he landed hard on the roof across from the museum. The vigilante rolled into a light jog, shaking off the pain racing through his knees. He could see the top of his targeted building, stopping at the edge of the rooftop he was occupying to try and get a better view.

He needed to figure out what caused the alarm to trip on the building in the first place. It didn’t seem like the type of area one of the usual Gotham Rogue Gallery would target for any occasion. Maybe Catwoman, but Jason didn’t know of any jewels in any exhibit that she would try to steal.

“Do you have any information on who might’ve broken in? I can’t think of anything Catwoman would try to get her hands on.” Jason asked as he kept a moving eye on the building across from him.

A thoughtful hum came from the other side of the transmission. “I’m looking at the CCTV footage now. The person who broke in is still inside, and appears to be wearing a dark, hooded outfit. White accents as well - whoever it is, they’re not one of our usuals.”

Jason cocked his head, body lighting up with a curiosity he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Roger, going in now. Might as well figure out who it is.” Aiming his grapple gun towards a secure part of the museum’s building, he triggered the mechanism with a satisfying pop and whirr. With an ease born from being a Bat, he jumped off the rooftop - soaring above the late-night foot traffic with a small thrill.

Oracle’s voice crackled as she spoke. “Hood, wait for at least one other to arrive before engaging. All CCTV footage is corrupted - this guy must’ve used a localized EMP of some sort, and depending on how strong it is, we might lose contact.”

“I thought the others were occupied?” The man questioned as he landed on top of the museum’s roof. He dropped to a crouch, surveying the space around him.

The Gotham Museum of Natural History was a building made up of pale stone. It had large, rectangular columns racing up the sides to form a grand entrance. The museum was split into four sections: the main part, and then three add-on sections that all intersected at the circular part of the building. While the roof was relatively flat, a massive glass dome rose from the main section with various skylights scattered around the add-ons. It may look cool but, as all the Gotham vigilantes knew, it created many escape routes for various villains to use. Without counting the many, many windows the building boasted.

“Batman and Robin are. Red Robin just finished up with a mugging and Nightwing is heading north. ETA is roughly ten minutes for each.”

Jason shook his head, creeping along the roof. “When did the break-in happen?”

Oracle paused, her silence speaking a thousand words. “About thirteen minutes ago.”

“So they’re probably finishing up grabbing whatever it is, already.” Red Hood kept his eyes out for any sign of break in, eyes expertly scanning the terrain around him.

“Assuming they’re as fast as Catwoman? Yes.”

Jason’s mouth opened to respond when movement through one of the northern add-on’s skylight caught his attention. The Hood hurried his way over, making sure to keep out of sight. As he got closer, static filled his ears. The noise was loud and startled the black-haired vigilante enough for him to quietly curse as he quickly moved to turn off the horrendous noise blasting through the casing covering his skull. Definitely a localized EMP, he thought as he settled next to the skylight to watch the thief.

While Jason typically had decent sight, through the glass he could only describe the person as whispy, almost like the window prevented him from having a clear view. He could barely make out a pitch-black cloak covering the person’s back as they lifted an object from its display pedestal.

Knowing time was running out and not wanting to let this new thief get away, Hood unlatched the skylight with a trick Batman taught him years ago - back when he was still learning the ropes of being Robin. Hooking his grapple claw onto the skylight’s edge, the ex-crime lord silently lowered himself down the large drop as quietly as he could. Even though there was next to no sound of the grapple’s mechanics and his landing was as quiet as an assassin’s, the thief’s head whipped around. Startled, glowing neon eyes met Hood’s through his helmet. Fear gripped Jason’s heart as unblinking Lazarus pools bore into his very soul.

I should’ve waited, Jason thought hysterically as the vigilante and thief stared at each other.

(((ꏿwꏿ;)))

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onmyyan · 5 months ago

Text

A/n: had a thought about a homelander-like reader in the DC universe, reader has homelanders powers minus his incel-like qualities just something self indulgent

It was over in an instant, the second her eyes refocused she calmly stood from the ratty chair he had her bound to, the dark steel cuffs he'd been sworn would weaken her became paper as she stood and shredded them to nothing. The tall young woman rolled her head between her shoulders, and the small grimace on her face fell after a satisfying pop echoed throughout the room.

"You know how I feel about people poking around up there." She smiled at him, tapping her finger against her temple, then took her first step forward, like a predator stalking its prey.

"In fact- I'm almost certain you know how much I hate it." Another calculated step.

They both knew she could end him anytime she felt like it, so the slow almost teasing way she hadn't yet, chilled him to his core.

"I was only trying to right a wrong- you must understand the world must be protected-"

His tearful plea was cut off by the harsh bark of laughter leaving the younger woman. "Please, this is me you're talkin' to. I know you old man- you don't give a shit about the world." Her smile cracked giving him a flash of the beast he'd raised.

"You just want someone to remember your sorry ass when you keel over and die. You want them to think you were worth something- well guess what? You were. You made me, and I'll always remember you for that." She stared down at the man she'd called Papa, her serene smile looked as hollow as it felt.

She'd finally made it close enough to see the microscopic beads of sweat on his upper lip. Her stare was eerily curious, (e/c) eyes forced him frozen as she looked him over, akin to the way a cat stared at a mouse it was about to bat around for fun. Her (s/c) hand came up to rest gently on his chest, dead center. She patted the area a few times as gently as she could, the force shaking him in place, he moved for the syringe on his belt, if he could get to it fast enough he had a chance of survival.

"I'll also never forgive you for it."

He saw it before he felt it. In a flash she had pushed forward and punched a hole straight through his chest, her fingers made contact with the cool cement wall behind him, Her free arm came up to cradle the back of his head, and she calmly pets his hair in a gesture she'd only seen in the hero films they showed her, his choking, bloodied sputters and gasps were quickly shushed.

"I think it's time for me to move out." She sighed to herself, yanking her arm back from the warm insides of her papa. Her face twisted in disgust at the chunks and viscera clinging to her skin, she wiped as much as she could off on the cleanest part of the deadman shirt before making her way out of the room, she had a few more doctors and nurses to say goodbye to.

Across the city was a soon-to-be hero having a not-so-good time.

Tim was having a very, bad day.

His alarm never went off forcing him to run to his classes to be on time, some freshman got too excited at lunch and knocked his soup all over the front of Tim, he had to wear his ugly gym shirt for the rest of his classes, then that idiot Kon accidentally crushed his phone with a little too much strength so Tim was screwed when it came to patrol tonight, he had a police scanner on that thing.

Then it began to rain. Sure he had an umbrella, but with the way it was coming down, it was useless.

He huffed a harsh breath through his nose, trying everything not to scream, there was an alleyway nearby that had a cover, and he quickly ran under it to avoid getting any more soaked. That was when he saw her.

A woman stood hovering over a mewling kitten, the small creature's desperate cries were almost inaudible from the harsh pound of the rain. He watched as she just stared at the helpless creature and felt himself hit his breaking point, he stormed over with a vengeance.

Tim glared at the odd woman, his attitude more directed at his shit day than her.

"You some kinda' sicko? What the hell are you doing just standing there?" He yelled poking the taller woman in the shoulder.

She didn't budge.

"I can't grab her cuz' I can't control my strength. I think I might hurt her." She responded in such a sad tone, the guilt in her gaze made his stomach lurch with shame, the instant regret was a new feeling he noted, not one he enjoyed. "And you're standing there because you couldn't leave her either." He said it more like a statement than a question.

The drenched (h/c) haired woman remained silent, offering a nod instead. He cleared his throat, a nervous pattern developed in middle school, and took the few steps needed to kneel next to the creature, he untied it simply enough and the small kitten instantly calmed down, rubbing its little face against his palm.

He risked a glance up and found the stranger smiling down at the scene before her. His heart did a funny little skip when he caught her gaze. From the way her eyes reminded him of warm honey, to the way she stared at him as if he was the most interesting person in the world, down to the way the rain beat against her (s/c) face, her plush lips curled up in that smile that sent shivers through his belly, everything about her pulled him in. She was enchanting so- enchanting, he'd thought it was her quirk.

"Thanks, mister." The tall woman smiled at him so brightly he felt the urge to shield his eyes, but he couldn't look away, she stood there like this goddess carved from marble, it almost seemed unfair how she lit up the grimy alleyway, how she looked to good just standing there.

"My name is Tim, what's yours?" She seemed to ponder it for a second, her head tilting, eyes calculated as she smiled at him again, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone,

"(Y/n), I'm gonna be a hero." Her greeting was odd, but he returned her smile with a small one of his own, she stuck her hand out and shook his with a toothy grin, he could feel her strength in the simple motion as they shook hands. He had a feeling she could give Kon a run for his money.

"What are you doing out here? Besides rescuing kittens that is."

"Oh, you know stuff. Normal stuff." Was her calculated answer? He laughed to himself a bit, "Well whatever you're doing, you know you don't have any shoes on right?" She looked down with a hum.

"It would appear I do not." He took that moment to really observe her. She looked like a gorhamite, including her clothes, she wore a white set of hospital thermals, well mostly white. Splotches of pink stained her front as if she'd been splattered with paint. Thick (h/c) curls clung to her perfectly carved face, framing it even more, the fabric of her clothes hugging her body like a second skin. He had a feeling she'd been in the hospital recently, judging by the thin band across her right wrist. He got close enough to read the word 'HOMELAN' but the rest was concealed, He chose not to comment on that, having a feeling one wrong move would send her flying.

"You hurt?" He asked standing to his full height, he had to look up a bit to meet her gaze, "Nah- I'm all good hot stuff." She made a point to flex her arm playfully, even in jest he could see she was packing some serious muscle under there.

"You running from someone?" Again she took her time to respond, her finger tapping against her chin in thought.

"Hmm, I'm gonna go ahead and say no. They definitely can't chase me anymore." The thought pulled a snort from her as if genuinely tickled, by the it, her gaze seemed gleeful, but something in her tone made his stomach do a flip, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Another thing that caught his attention was that innocent look in her eyes whenever she looked away from him, how she stared at the ivory leaf-covered brick with the most interested expression, something in the way she looked at the sky reminded him of a child's innocence.

It was as if this was her first time outside or something.

His heart had been steadily rising throughout the entire interaction, a strange but warm feeling began to grow, and a dangerous little seed had sprouted in his heart the second he realized she was just some poor soul looking for someone to reach out and save her.

He could definitely be that person.

"I can't leave you out here like this- do you have someplace to stay?" He watched her rack her brain for an answer.

"Yes, thank you." She nodded more to herself than him and began walking in the opposite direction, straight into the storm that seemed to only worsen. He cursed under his breath and did a light jog to catch her. "You're a terrible liar." It was instinct to lift his umbrella higher, now standing side by side the good few inches on him really seemed to stand out.

"You can tell? Gotta work on my poker face then." The smirk on her plump lips felt teasing, paired with the confident way she carried herself left the purple-haired man with a swarm of dancing butterflies in his tummy.

"I know somewhere safe-" he flicked his tongue out over his lip, "I'm..connected with some heros in this town, I can protect you." He said as earnestly as he could, something telling him not to let this one go, he rubbed her arm, trying to warm her with his hand as he gave her a crooked grin. She giggled at the man before her, she wasn't used to people worrying for her so intensely, so honestly, to think she'd known him five minutes and he'd shown her more kindness than any of the cold, calculating doctors who raised her ever had, it made her laugh to herself. He had no idea how little she needed protection, but still, the thought made her chest feel funny and warm.

"Oh jeez, my own personal hero? Lucky day." He returned her grin, the festering feeling of obsession gripped him all that more. With that, he took a calculated risk and linked his pinkie with hers. "Come on, it's not far." The kitten was happily asleep in his hoodie pocket, the stallion beside him reminded him a lot of a feral kitten, just asking to be taken home and pampered.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc #yandere dc imagine #yandere dc x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere tim drake x reader

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haveihitanerve · 4 days ago

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Gotham Protects Her Own

“Gotham protects her own.” Bruce had whispered to him once, in a, at the time, not so rare moment of affection, cradling dick to his chest as they looked over his city. Their city. Batman and Robin. Dick had believed him, of course, but he hadn’t really felt it. Not until he had stood at the bats side for the second year in a row, and his cape had fluttered. Dicks cape had never fluttered while he was standing. Running across the rooftops? Sure. Jumping over a chimney? Most definitely. But just standing still, no movement? It had never happened. Bruce’s did, from the very beginning Bruce’s cape had flown behind him, flapping with grace in the wind that was not there. But dicks hadn’t. But now… Bruce smiled down at him, pride lining every line in his face, before he took off across the roof, a challenge and a test at the same time. Dick chased after him, and for the first time since he had become Robin, he flew. His feet barely touched down, cushioned by the roofs, by shadows, and he laughed, wild and bright and free, and Bruce joined him, laugh deep and rich and full. Dick belonged to Gotham now, the city had laid her claim on him, and as Batman and Robin flew across the city, Dick could hear a new laugh join them, light and happy and feminine, delighted by their delight, their acceptance. Gotham protects her own, and Dick Grayson-Wayne, the first Robin, had earned that right, that protection, with his leaps and jokes and belief in Batman, in a belief in the city, in the belief that it could be better.

Gotham protects her own. Catherine Todd had murmured to him once, late one night, a bruise blossoming on her cheek, eyes heavy from drugs. She was close to death, Jason could feel it practically wafting off her, and he didn't think much of her last words, a hazy drugged hallucination, slurred speech. But then she had passed and Jason had left, choosing the street over his father and then he had understood. People came looking for him, naturally, even his father ventured out, but shadows seemed to envelop him, the streets opened to his footfalls, and he always found a safe place to sleep, never waking with his things stolen or suddenly kidnapped. Jason could feel the city, his very lifeblood, could hear her music in her traffic, felt her song in the earthquakes. Gotham cradled him, sheltered him, and when the time came, pushed him to a left unattended Batmobile, tempting him to steal the tires. For the first time, Jason doubted his city, hated her for sending him into a trap. But then he became Robin, and Gotham squealed in delight, and Jason watched in awe as Bruce flew, as Gotham made his cloak billow, as she nurtured her prodigal son. Batman had gotten injured, once, badly enough that he had struggled with his grapple line, and it had snapped. Jason had screamed, lunging for him, but it was too late. Before he could cry over the dead body of his mentor, he found Bruce at the bottom of the building, not much worse for wear at all. Gotham had cradled him, shadows leaping to cushion his fall. Jason had laughed with glee, rushing Bruce home as quickly as possible, and something had brushed his cheek, a faint kiss against his forehead. Gotham protects her own and Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin, had been born into that right, that protection, and felt her city pound through his body like blood, feeding his soul.

Gotham protects her own. Tim had seen the slogan on a Wayne Enterprise billboard once, when he had been seven, an ad campaign promoting insurance and helpful housing. It had become a sort of mantra for him, something he whispered under his breath every time his father made a snide comment about Tim lacking proper talent or social skills, after every call his parents declined, after every fight that had him biting his lip to stop the tears and debate running away. Gotham protects her own. Became his lifeline, his mantra, a promise of a better life. It wasn't anything he ever believed, until he finally worked up the courage to approach Bruce Wayne about the secret. Tim slipped on the Robin uniform for the first time… And something inside him settled. A woman's voice in the back of Tim’s head squealed. But as he raced over the rooftops, finally at Batman's side as he always dreamed to be instead of a few feet behind, snapping pictures, his cape dancing with the wind, his feet hardly touching down, that mantra, that false belief of hope, of a better life, became truth. Gotham protects her own, and Tim Drake-Wayne, the third Robin, had believed in that truth his whole life, wishing with every fiber of his being that she would protect him, and she finally had.

Gotham protects her own. David Cain had warned her once, telling her great stories of the city with air of midnight black, of water a putrid green, and of a people a hardy and tough. It hadn't been a compliment, just another obstacle she would need to overcome to fulfill her future missions. She had believed him, of course, but… she had never truly known what it meant. Not until she had stumbled into the city, hurt, bleeding, afraid, and she had felt that… otherworldly power. Reaching for her. Its tendrils soft and kind, like a mother, shadows stretching across her, shielding her, as the League prowled the streets. It wasn't until she saw him. The Bat. And his little Bird, brutal efficiency and yet mercy in every action, wasn't until she saw how Gotham cradled them, lifted them, helped them to fly. Gotham had been more accepting to her than she had thought. Maybe because she hadn't hurt her children. Maybe because she knew her pain. Maybe because Cass had been so afraid. But whatever the reason, when Cassandra Cain-Wayne took to the streets, a proud, blazing Bat on her chest, her cape billowing behind her, Gotham sang.

“Gotham protects her own!” Arthur Brown had screamed once. It had been in a fit of rage, followed by the sounds of windows crashing and tables smashing against the wall. He had been angry, livid even, the sound of his footsteps heavy and hard on the floor as he stormed around, pissed that Batman was unreachable for him, untouchable, protected by the city he claimed to do the same to. Steph knew the truth in the words, had been protected by them her whole life, finding a window open right when her father got home, the closet door unlocked miraculously after her father had locked her up, alleyways opening for her to escape through when bigger kids picked on her, or the cops chased her. And it happened now, as Arthur Brown came storming for her, rage and malice and every evil intention written across his features. Steph could feel that tug, that indescribable feeling of home, and she took a step back, melting into the shadows as she fled, fled her home, fled her father, fled his wrath and everything wrong with the world. She settled on the roof, the way she always did when he got like this, and waited, as she always did. For it to end. For him to stop. It was that night that she saw him for the first time. Steph had heard of him, of course, the Batman was infamous throughout Gotham by now, but she had never seen him in person. Never watched his work. It was at Bethany’s house. Bethany’s father, Vincent, was screaming again. The way Arthur was. But Gotham, Gotham didn't protect Bethany the way she did Steph. Or maybe Bethany just didn't listen. But Batman.. Batman listened. Batman protected. Steph watched, wide eyed, as he jumped through the window, as he grabbed Vincent by the throat and slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face. Steph watched, hands clutching her teddy, wondering whether she would rather risk her father than this demon. But he stopped. Paused. Threw Vincent to the ground in disgust, unconscious, and turned to Bethany. Beth had stopped moving, the way she always did when Vincent got the way he did, dissociating so she wouldn't feel his hands on her. Steph didn't think it worked, but it was something. Batman bent down, gentle, slowly, a few feet away, extending a hand to Beth. Steph couldn't hear what he said, couldn't see his face, but Beth blinked at him. She blinked, and she walked closer, slowly. And Batman… Batman held her, held her until she was crying, held her through her tears and wiped her eyes and rubbed her back, held her until she was asleep without nightmares, and carried her to bed, tucking her in gently. Steph didn't know how long she sat there, watching as he cared for this little girl, forgoing the Bat Symbol in the sky, and his anger, for her. Gotham protects her own, Steph swore as she watched him drop from the window the same night, flitting away on shadows only she could see. Gotham protects her own, and she would protect Gotham. She would mold herself after the Bat, and help.

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munsons-hellfire · 7 months ago

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You're Losing Me 1 | Rhysand

SUMMARY: You married Rhysand for an escape from the Court of Nightmares. You loved him, but he wasn't Azriel. He wasn't your mate. And now Rhys and Azriel are losing you to the aftermath of Under the Mountain.

PAIRINGS: Rhysand x Reader, Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Feyre Archeron

CONTENT WARNING: Heartbreak, fated mates, MFW, no smut, angst, fluff mentions of abuse, mentions of blood

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one shot is based around You're Losing Me (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift. This will be a multi-part series that will kind of follow the books but will be altered a little. And yes it starts out with Rhys as the love interest but by the second part it'll be more focused on Azriel. If you'd like to be tagged in the rest of this multi-part series let me know in the comments and I'll add you to the tag list.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

You were trapped Under the Mountain with your husband. He needed a partner, you needed a reason to leave your family behind in the Court of Nightmares. He was that escape for you, and you were that savior for him. It was only ever a marriage based upon a deal. But over the years you’d both fallen in love with each other. That’s what you had told yourself anyway. You knew that he told himself that too. Rhysand wasn’t Azriel… he wasn’t your mate.

Just before you and Rhysand had left for the party, you had felt the bond snap between you and Azriel. Though you hadn’t been sure if he had felt it. You’d never got the chance to ask anyway. You and Rhys were trapped Under the Mountain for 49 years, with no way for you to feel the bond between you and Azriel. It truly broke something inside you and you had felt it. You knew how you had gotten to this moment in time.

A human had saved you all, but you had suffered choosing to protect her from the wrath of Amarantha. She didn’t take too kindly to that. You were separated from the others not even knowing what had happened with the trials. You lied on the cold floor under the mountain still. Blood was leaking from your body, from the deep cuts that littered your body.

“A punishment for intervening with the human.” She’d said to you before they had dragged you away from Rhys. Panic had run through your body but it truly wasn’t enough to save you. The sobs had long since stopped coming out of your mouth. You felt so hollow lying there on the floor. The cold air rushed against the open cuts on your back. After the guards had left your room you’d heard commotion.

But you made no move to get up off the floor, too much pain ran through your body to allow you to pick yourself up from the floor. You felt calloused hands touch the side of your arm. Slowly you opened your eyes and looked up to see your husband staring back at you. A sad expression crossed Rhysand’s face as he kneeled down to look at you.

“My love.” He whispered, tears threatening to escape from his eyes.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” You said softly, closing your eyes and pulling your head away from Rhys.

“I need to get you home.” Your eyes opened up and you stared up at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s dead, we’re free. I need to get you to Madja.” You felt shock course through your body.

You would finally be heading home to your mate, seeing him for the first time in 49 years. “How?” It was a simple question and all you could get out.

“Feyre, she saved us all.” When your eyes found Rhysand’s violet eyes, you saw that look. You knew all too well what that look meant.

“She’s your mate isn’t she?” You asked. Rhys only nodded. “Az…” You paused, watching Rhys stare at you with a raised brow. But he seemed to understand what you were trying to say.

“You’ll see him soon enough.” Rhys gripped your hand and the two of you winnowed back to your home.

☾

Darkness is the only thing you saw before you woke up. The pain to your back was unbearable and you ended up passing out in Rhys arms. Azriel sat in the bed holding onto your hand, you rested on your stomach and the wounds on your back were starting to heal. He still wasn’t processing the fact that his brother and his mate were back home. It was so unreal to him. His shadows gilded around your body, careful to not touch your back.

They were beyond happy to have you back. You were home. Azriel wasn’t going to let anything happen to you, not ever again. He looked up when he saw Rhys standing at the door, he gave a small nod and adjusted his wings, pulling them in tightly as he stepped off the bed and walked over to Rhys.

“How’s Y/N?” Rhys asked, violet eyes on his wife. Though he knew that there might be a divorce in the future. You and Rhys would want different things now. He knew it even if you weren’t awake to express that. Rhys still cared for you deeply and would still allow you a home. Besides he knew that Azriel would kick his ass if he let you go back to the Court of Nightmares.

“Holding on.” Azriel kept his hazel eyes on you not wanting to look away for a second. He was so afraid that he’d lose you again. Not being able to hold you, comfort you, be there for you when you were struggling it was killing him.

“You know she doesn’t blame you for what happened to us.” Rhys said, picking up on what he was thinking just by the way he’d been staring at you.

“I should’ve gone with the both of you to the damned party.” Azriel’s tone was clipped, his jaw tight. He crossed his hands over his chest while his shadows moved around his body. Only a few remained near you.

“I gave you an order to stay here. Y/N, told you to listen to it. We didn’t need you there, we needed you here with everyone else to watch over Velaris. Y/N had told me that Amarantha might try to do something, she had told me that it was best that we go and make sure you all stay back here.”

“How did she know?” Azriel placed his hazel eyes on his brother.

“I don’t know, gut feeling I suppose. I’ve been wanting to see if Y/N might have some type of power.”

“Could that be possible?”

“It could be. We found out that she’s Hybern’s child. Amarantha told us. Apparently her mother escaped to the Court of Nightmares but gave her up before disappearing. No one had seen or heard from her that Y/N was left with that despicable family.”

“If you two get a divorce will she be sent back to the Court of Nightmares?” Rhys could hear the panic and worry in his brother’s voice. Finally Rhys turned to place his full on Azriel.

“We will get a divorce because I’m not you, she wants to be with you and to be honest she’s not Feyre. We had discussed this when we got married in the beginning. That should one or both of us find our mate and we want to accept it the other would allow a divorce. I’m letting her go, I still care for her deeply but she is not mine to love, not anymore.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Azriel said sternly.

“I won’t send her back, Az. You should already know that. Y/N is your mate and your hers. She’s also a valued member of the Inner Circle. I do not plan on tossing her aside because I’ve found myself. I made a bargain to keep her protected from that family and I will continue to do that.” Rhys paused, he placed his violet eyes on you. You had heard the last stretch of their conversation. Rhys had told Azriel that you belonged to Hybern, that you were his offspring and yet he was still here. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Rhys disappeared before Azriel could say anything further. You adjusted your body slightly to get more comfortable on the bed. Azriel was quick to move to your bed. You felt a few of his shadows swarm your body, they were being mindful of the cuts.

“Can you help me up?” You asked, as you were eager to get out of the bed and walk around. Azriel only nodded, he was silent and you started to think it was because of who your true father was. Azriel held onto your hands as he helped you walk around your room.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, his gaze on you. You had to look up at him, he was so much taller than you were.

“I’m fine.” You replied, it was a lie though. You were in a nightmare of your own making. Things were happening, you could feel it. Something was happening, a war was coming and you didn’t know how to tell them.

☾

Three weeks had passed, Rhysand, Azriel and Madja thought that they were getting better. And you were getting better, at least your back was. But you were declinding, your mind wasn’t the way it was before Amarantha had happened. And with all the trauma you’d received at the hands of your adoptive mother and adoptive father, followed by Amarantha. It was a struggle for you.

Cassian sat in your room with you, the door was open and the windows were open too. A breeze flew in while a shadow hovered around you. Azriel was out on a mission, he didn’t want to go by Rhys needed him to go on this mission so he’d ask Cass to sit with you and watch over you while he was gone. You laid on your bed, not facing the light coming from the sun outside. It was too bright in here for your liking.

You pulled the covers over your head ignoring Cassian when you knew he was staring at you. It pained him to see you like this. To see you suffering in silence and not sharing it with anyone. You hadn’t even talked to Rhys and Az about what was bothering you. But the truth was simple, you didn’t know how to tell them, to talk about the things that Amarantha forced you to do. It was far worse than the punishment you’d gotten for trying to intervene to save Feyre.

She’d discovered your powers, knew what you could do. And she used that to her advantage. Every time she manipulated you, made you believe that she’d find your mate and you’d watch him die. That’s when you learned from Amarantha that you were able to sense bad things. You knew that you could sense good things, but the majority of the time it was a handful of bad things that followed you around. You weren’t a seer.

That much was clear, while you could predict things before they could happen you couldn’t see them. Only feel them with every inch of your body, mind, and soul. You had yet to explain this to Rhysand. You knew he was itching to know what abilities you had. He was trying to see if you’d be a threat to him. You felt the room get darker, and suddenly you could hear voices all around you. One voice belonged to Cassian, the other belonged to your now ex-husband.

The divorce was quick and easy. You hadn’t been ready to accept the mating bond yet and Azriel was okay with that, he was okay with waiting even though that’s not what he felt on the inside. The sheets were ripped from your body and you groaned reaching for a pillow to pull over your head.

“No, you’ve been moping around for three weeks Y/N. You need to get up out of this bed now, and we need to discuss your powers.” His voice boomed around in your room, the pillow was then yanked from your hands. Your hair was wild and you were now glaring at the High Lord.

“Why? So you can throw me out the second I seem like I’m going to be a threat to your court.” You tried to hold yourself together, you stood on your bed on your knees glaring at Rhys, and Cassian who was still in the room. His face seemed to soften at the confession that left your lips.

“I will never throw you out of my court, you may not be my wife anymore. But you are and always will be one of my best friends. I made a promise to keep you safe and no matter what I will keep that. But this moping around needs to stop, you’re hurting Azriel.”

You were hurt, those words “you’re hurting Azriel,” they swarmed your mind. The words seemed to send you into a panic, you collapsed to the bed. Your eyes were staring up at the ceiling. Rhy's eyes came into view but you couldn’t move. It was happening again and you knew it. This is what Amarantha said you’d do when they started. You’d go deathly still as fragments of images and words appeared in your mind.

You’d always done your best to hide this from your family (well adoptive family), but when they saw it they knew it was grounds for punishment. And everytime it happened afterward you’d be sent to your room where you’d be locked in there for a week sometimes longer. When you made it to Velaris you’d gotten good at hiding it so they didn’t know about your power. Because you and Rhys didn’t sleep with each other or in the same room he never saw it.

It wasn’t until Amarantha that things got worse. She’d managed to unlock something inside you and turn this into a far more powerful being. You refused to call yourself a seer because you couldn’t see full on visions. When you finally got your vision back you saw Rhys and now Cass. They were both staring down at you worry etched across both their faces.

“What was that, Y/N?” Rhys questioned, as he and Cass lifted you up into a sitting position.

“I don’t remember much about my mother aside from the constant visions she had. They weren’t visions though, more like clipped images and words. And you know Hybern is my father, then that tells you all you need to know about who I’m supposed to be.” You said, pushing your hand up to your forehead to rub the pain away.

“And who are you supposed to be?” This time a new voice entered the conversation. You looked up to see your mate staring at you. A few of his shadows gathered around the other shadow that had stayed with you while Azriel was out on his mission. You stood from the bed and ran over to your mate collapsing into his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist and his shadows swarmed the two of you.

“My mother gave me up for one reason only. I didn’t understand why and it never made sense, not until Amarantha told me. She was told to hand me over to my father if she ever caught me but she went against his order because she wanted me for herself. She used to tell me that I’d be a very powerful seer one day. I guess because I could see images and words that it would one day be useful especially if I fell into the full ability of my power.”

“So what does that mean then?” Cassian proceeded to question.

“In the wrong hands I could one day help destroy the world.”

#x reader #reader insert #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand x reader #feyre archeron #azriel #rhysand #feyre archeron x rhysand #azriel x reader #king of hybern #amarantha #cassian

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t3a-tan · 2 months ago

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Romantic and Hopeless (8/?)

First / Previous / Next

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The borrower’s gaze only sharpened, his grip on the quill tightening in a way that made Oscar worry he was about to strike. He threw his free hand up in surrender, eyes wide.

“Wait wait— please don't prick me, mate— I'll…I'll move my hand, okay?” He glanced nervously towards the big bird that was still perched on his chest, though it seemed to have no interest in the borrowers. It was hardly even looking at Oscar, only acting as a weight to keep him down.

Really it wasn't very heavy— the reason Oscar hadn't sat up was because he didn't want the bird to freak out and he didn't want to knock the borrower threatening him onto the floor by doing so either.

He hesitated again, before slowly moving his hand away from where it had been protectively curled over Sammy's form. He had made sure not to outright grab her, or even touch her, simply having made a shelter for her under his cupped hand which he was now removing.

Oliver's grip on his weapon of choice relaxed slightly as he saw the hand move away, noting that Sammy didn't seem hurt by the grab. Not that he could say that for sure without going up close…

“Gale, keep an eye on him.” He commanded simply with a short whistle accompanying his words. The buzzard immediately snapped to attention again, its eyes zeroing in on the human with intensity.

Oscar watched as the tiny man turned and dropped to the ground off of his chest as if he wasn't even there. He could feel his blood still rushing in his ears as he stared, and eventually his eyes met the bird's again. He flinched slightly.

“Uh… nice bird?” All he got was a screech in response, so he laid his head back on the grass and swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts again.

Sammy was still having trouble with the suddenness of the situation. She had no time to think about whether she wanted Oliver to know about her escape or not— it was just something she now had to deal with. And she…really didn't want to.

She hadn't seen Oliver in years, and he hadn't seen her. Sammy was painfully aware of how different she probably looked now; what with all her scars and her long hair she had been so fond of when she was younger was now nowhere to be seen. Some part of her felt ashamed over her appearance… afraid of his reaction.

She was still recovering from the shock of Oscar's hand coming to shield her, and now she was dealing with another much more stressful event… it had barely been any time since she escaped.

I don't want to do this right now. What am I supposed to tell him? He's going to ask me about where everyone else is, but…

As she saw her cousin slide down the side of Oscar's puffy jacket and head in her direction she bristled, instinctively looking around for some sort of escape. Taking a step back, she felt her mind spiralling as the thought crossed her mind that she missed the safety of Oscar's hand.

Safety?? What is wrong with me? It might not be a threat now, but it's definitely not safe…

Oliver took notice of the unease, and as much as he wanted to run over and scoop Sammy up into his arms and hold onto her tight— I'm never letting her go again— he could see that his sudden approach was causing her discomfort. He stopped, trying not to let that hurt.

He glanced back towards the red haired human again, seeing that he was still laying there, docile. His hand had been covering Sammy, not harming her, and it seemed that this human was around the same age as her. It's unlikely that he is a threat. But how he and Sammy met is a mystery…

He kept his guard up just in case. Especially as he noticed that Sammy's ankle was freshly bandaged.

“You're hurt.” It wasn't a question. Oliver had spent so long searching everywhere in the hopes that his aunt and cousins were alive, but he found nothing. Part of him had begun to accept that they were dead, but most of him just wanted to find them safe.

She was not safe. She was covered in scars, dressed in rags, and Oliver's aunt and Tanner were nowhere to be seen. His fists clenched at his sides, anger at whoever hurt his cousin, whoever killed his uncle, and possibly more.

Oliver took a deep breath, putting a reassuring smile on his face and relaxing his posture. He took slow steps forward, undoing his fur cloak and taking it off. Sammy would get sick standing out in the winter air so unprotected.

“I can see you're shivering… come on. You don't have to tell me anything right now, alright? Let's just get you somewhere safe and warm.”

Once he had finally bridged the distance between them he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and fastened it before stepping back again. Now that he was closer he could see more clearly the extent of her injuries… but she was in one piece.

“You…you have a bird..?” Sammy asked, shooting a cautious glance in Gale's direction whilst also snuggling into the warm cloak. She stood with one foot on the other, shifting constantly, clearly cold. Oliver's smile faltered at the sight.

I need to get her inside.

Oliver whistled and Gale immediately landed beside him in response, causing Sammy to stumble back in surprise, yelping. Oliver took notice of how the human's hand twitched and moved closer, not needing to turn around to know he was sitting up. The shadow over them was enough of a warning.

“This is Gale. She's well-trained…she is supposed to tell me when borrowers are in the area so I can go check on them. She spotted you, and so I decided to take a look and…well.” Oliver turned and looked up at the red-haired human, brows furrowing. “I thought you might be in danger.”

Oscar was looking down at the borrower, and yet he couldn't help but feel intimidated by his gaze. Unlike Sammy, this man seemed to have no fear towards him. If anything he was suspicious.

He swallowed again, sensing that he was not supposed to speak, but still remaining wary of the giant bird that was only inches away from his soulmate.

Sammy shook her head, shooting an anxious glance in Oscar's direction now before meeting Oliver's gaze once more.

“Well… I guess I kind of was in danger—”

Oliver took hold of his quill again at her words, brandishing it again, keeping Sammy behind him. He knew he was acting hastily, but when facing down the possible murderer of several family members it was hard to remain completely calm. He glared up at the human.

He is young. It shouldn't be difficult to scare him off… And hopefully dissuade him from capturing borrowers in the future. I'll have to start monitoring him.

“Woah woah..!” Oscar leaned back in surprise, his heart dropping. Sammy still thinks that—?

“Wait!” Oliver stopped as he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, not taking his eyes off of the human but also taking on a less aggressive stance. Sammy continued. “I-it's not him— he's… he saved me. We…came here to avoid the danger.”

As much as she was still wary of Oscar, she knew he was helping her and she didn't want her cousin to fight him. Not just because she didn't want Oscar to get stabbed…but because she wasn't sure if he would hurt Oliver in return.

Oliver hummed, relaxing immediately, attaching the quill to his back again.

“I see.” He cleared his throat and offered a hand in the human's direction. “Thank you for saving my cousin. I apologise for my brash reaction. My name is Oliver.”

Still reeling from the sudden switch, Oscar looked nervously at the quill that had been sheathed once more before meeting the borrower's gaze. He smiled but it looked more like a grimace. Holy shit that could have gone downhill fast.

Hesitantly, he reached down and pinched his tiny hand between two fingers, marvelling at how it disappeared in his grip. He swallowed down his nerves, trying to put the hostility that had been thrown his way behind him as he gently shook the tiny man's hand.

“Y-yeah, mate…it's fine. I'm Oscar…”

Releasing that tiny hand again, his lips pursed as he realised he was kind of looming over the two. To correct that, Oscar lay down again, this time on his stomach, as much as his head was spinning over the idea that his eyes were now within perfect pecking range.

Sammy met his gaze and tilted her head as if to ask if he was okay. Oscar bristled, before giving a small silent nod, his cheeks heating up slightly.

Oliver looked between the two again, raising an eyebrow at the silent display.

“You said you're avoiding danger, yes? Where are you planning to go? In my experience, the humans of this city rarely take shelter in the woods, only doing so for recreational reasons. And although you have some supplies with you…” He looked Oscar up and down. “I see no tent.”

Oscar glanced at his bag of supplies when he called attention to it, nodding.

“Uhh— that abandoned cabin, just east of here? We were just gonna hide out there. I haven't really thought past that to be completely honest.” He explained, gesturing vaguely towards what he thought was probably east— but he was still pretty disoriented from the sudden tumble earlier so it could very easily be any other direction.

Oliver perked up, before snapping his fingers.

“Ah. I remember you. You come here with that blonde boy— Freddie, I believe?” Oliver always kept an eye out for newcomers in the forest, and he had noticed two boys that came pretty regularly. Although he usually didn't keep an eye on humans past making sure they weren't straying too close to his crops, he'd had a close encounter with the boys once before.

“Huh? You uh… you've watched us?” Oscar suddenly felt a bit embarrassed. The whole reason he and Freddie chose to come to this forest was because of the privacy— he had had many serious chats and cries with his friend, and the thought that it wasn't actually private felt…uncomfortable.

Oliver shook his head quickly, waving a hand as if to physically dispel his discomfort.

“No no. I never stuck around, I only spotted you on a few occasions and then returned to my burrow. Although you did end up almost catching me once, when I was harvesting the berries from my garden… About 5 or 6 years ago?” He smiled almost fondly.

It had been quite startling at the time, when he was tangled up in the branches of a blackberry bush after two humans started picking from it whilst he was still among the leaves. Luckily he was unharmed, and he never ended up being seen or caught because he was obscured by leaves; not to mention blending in with his green clothes and dark complexion.

He had also been a little frustrated when all of the ripe blackberries were taken, leaving him with none left over… but his mild annoyance faded quickly seeing the human boys’ joy as they consumed the sweet berries; laughing with each other and just being kids.

Oscar blinked. He could vaguely remember eating blackberries whilst in this forest many years ago…

“Oh shit. Those were from your garden? Sorry about that…” He responded sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Pretty sure we did it a few more times too…”

Oliver chuckled, quickly warming up to the human despite his initial suspicion and hostility.

“You did. But I had plenty left over from when you two didn't pick them, so it didn't affect me much.” He assured.

Sammy looked between her cousin and her soulmate, brows furrowing with confusion and growing frustration. The more confused she felt the more bothered she was by the interaction. She was glad that they weren't at each other's throats, yes, but why was Oliver acting so casual with Oscar?

She knew that her experiences had given her a much more visceral reaction to humans, but Oliver was being unusually friendly. The borrower rules clearly stated that borrowers should not speak to humans— and yes she was breaking that rule but at least she had reason to.

The more she watched the interaction, the more overwhelmed she felt by it. She didn't understand it at all.

Shaking her anxieties away, she shivered as she looked up at Oscar again. As hesitant as she was to ask, the cold was starting to sting, biting at her feet that were planted on the frosty soil.

“I-I'm cold…can I go back in your pocket..?” She asked shakily. Asking a human for something was a very vulnerable position; because it told them what she wanted and allowed them to refuse it or even worsen her situation… but she hoped Oscar would prove himself to be different, even if she was uncertain.

Both sets of green eyes focused on her again and Sammy couldn't help but shrink in on herself. Why am I the only one who's scared? I'm not crazy…

“Right, of course. Sorry, Sammy… I meant to offer you just that earlier but getting hit by a bird is preeetty distracting.” Oscar apologised, his expression filling with concern seeing how she was shivering and retreating into herself. Something else is bothering her…

He sat up slowly then lowered his hand, setting it palm up on the ground and keeping it steady. Sammy took a breath to mentally prepare herself before limping on. Oscar winced when he felt her cold feet make contact with his bare skin— they felt like ice and his fingers instinctively twitched despite his efforts.

Raising his hand up to his coat pocket, he watched and made sure she was settled into the pocket just fine before actually moving around again, feeling guilty for leaving her in the cold for so long.

He stood up slowly and stretched, before looking down at Oliver, tilting his head.

“Wanna come with? I mean…you are cousins, so I figured you must want to talk and stuff…” He offered, using his thumb to point in the direction the cabin would be. Now that he had his bearings back, he realised he had indeed gestured in the wrong direction earlier.

Sammy bit back a groan as she overheard this. As terrible as it felt to think, she didn't want to talk to Oliver right now. So much had happened and was happening— the last thing she needed was to sit down and explain to someone she admired that everyone he loved was dead and now there was a crazy doctor hunting her.

Still, saying this out loud wasn't something she could do either, and she knew Oliver would accept Oscar's offer.

“That would be appreciated, yes. I'll meet you both there then, I just need to fetch something from my burrow.” Oliver responded, craning his neck up to look at the red-haired human, a polite smile on his face. Oscar nodded, taking a step back as he waved.

“Sick. Alright, see you there.” He turned and started walking in the direction of the cabin, hearing the sound of a whistle and watching as the buzzard, Gale, took flight again; presumably with Oliver riding on its back. Oscar couldn't help but watch in awe, his stride stopping momentarily just to watch the bird fly away.

As he resumed his pace he glanced down at his pocket, seeing that Sammy was only shivering a little now as she was warming up. Her expression was determined and contemplative, buried in the warm fur cloak she had been lent. He smiled slightly before turning his gaze forward, focusing on the destination.

Being a badass must be genetic.

#g/t community #ocs #g/t artist #g/t writer #g/t #borrowers #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t fluff #g/t angst #giant/tiny writing

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