#But he gets in shit like “oh i just wanted to help civilian get out from dangerous location and they stabbed me :(((”

[ntj2pj]

[depressnt]

YOU CANT HIDE GOLD IN THE TAGS

Danny and Ellie had majorly screwed up. Now here they were in the hydro-electric car Danny had designed for applying to Wayne industries/whoever would give a fifteen year old a fat paycheck, sitting in the middle of Gotham, at night, surrounded by glaring bats.

Crap.

Time to bullshit his way out of this.

He looked at Red Robin and sheepishly grinned, "...hi dad."

Ellie, the little gremlin, didn't even hesitate before adding, "We are so grounded. I told you we shouldn't have messed with the broken time machine but nooo."

The bats were either taken about or cackling and Danny to this chance to put the petal to the metal and get out of there

Tim is now obsessed with finding his future kids.

[deadsetobsessions]

Gotham rained a lot more than Amity ever did.

Danny could not help but appreciate the differences. From the way the city itself curled around her inhabitants to the weather, Gotham was far darker than Amity ever managed to be.

Still, there were similarities. The screams, for one. In Amity, it was ghosts, their victims, and whichever ghostbuster of the day rocking up to rock each other’s shit. Another similarity? Danny’s inability to not get himself into troublesome shit, because he could never ignore a cry for help.

That scream was a cry for help if he’s ever heard one.

Danny cursed himself as he slipped through the alleyways, strides becoming smoother and agile than he normally walked like. He stuck to the shadows, the prickling of ghostly senses and honed vigilante instincts guiding him towards the scream. It was a man, getting stabbed by a guy in a red helmet.

Danny maintained that he was new here.

Which is why his foot connected solidly with Red Helmet's... red helmet.

"Motherfuc-" Red Helmet shouted as he was punted several feet away.

"Holy shit dude, are you good?"

Danny helped the guy up.

"Thank fuck! Back up! What took you so long?! Boss is gunna be so pissed if we're late!"

Hold up. Boss?

"Boss?"

“Black Mask, asshole! We gotta go before he decides to cut off our limbs!”

Danny yanked the guy to the side just as a bullet ricocheted off the rusted fire escape.

“Ope!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” A mechanical voice growled behind them.

“Oh fuck, Red Helmet guy.” Danny muttered.

“Shit, ya gotta run, tell boss I got caught.” The injured goon- because it was now apparent to Danny that the guy was working for someone dangerous- said. Danny appreciated the thought, but he only intervened because the guy was getting stabbed.

“Uh,” Danny hesitated. Clearly the guy had the wrong idea.

“Don’t make a move, unless you want your fucking heads blown off,” Red Helmet guy- wait, why does he feel liminal?- raised his guns. “Why don-”

Red Helmet guy was cut off by the thud of the now unconscious goon.

His helmet tilted down and then back up at Danny.

“Guess it’s just you and me,” Helmet guy sneered out. “Better tell me everything you know about Black Mask, or else you’ll get a taste of what he had.”

Danny held up his hands even though he knew he could just let the bullets phase through him. The smart thing would be to absolve himself and not get in the middle of two criminal’s beef as a civilian.

Danny’s full name, however, could have been Danny ‘Dumb Decisions’ Fenton. So, Danny practically interjected himself like an overexcited puppy at a doggy daycare.

“Okay, no need to get bloody. But uh, I have a question.”

Red Helmet cocked his head and mockingly gestured with his gun. “Sure, why not.”

Danny let as much of his midwestern accent into his voice as possible. “Who’s, uh, Black Mask?”

Red Helmet paused. Then he sighed. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“No…? I’m, uh, new in town.”

Red Helmet lowered his guns, and for some reason, Danny could tell that he was exasperated.

“Why would you even get in between a fight, dumbass? I have a gun! I coulda killed ya! He’s a criminal’”

Danny protested. Rude! “In my defense, you were stabbing him! You’re a criminal too, you know!”

“That makes it worse! You-!” Red Helmet paused. “Wait, do you even know who I am?”

Danny let his gaze wander down to the red bat-shaped logo on the guy’s chest. “Uh… Red Helmet… bat-guy?” He hazarded a guess.

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot.”

Danny gaped. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” Red Helmet put his gun back and planted his fists on his hips. “You’re an idiot. Who gets in between a vigilante and the goon of a crime lord.”

Danny crossed his arms, leveling an unimpressed look at Red Helmet. “I’ve never heard of a vigilante killing someone, Red Helmet Bat-Guy.”

“It’s Red Hood.” Red Helmet sighed, walking closer. “And I wasn’t going to kill him.” Danny scoffed.

Danny relaxed, sensing the truth coming from Red Helmet guy’s liminal aspects.

“He’ll die looking at your ugly mug,” Danny sassed. “You’re gonna get him to a hospital, right? I’ll go with you.”

“Are you midwesterners all this trusting? What if I was the goon and this guy was the vigilante?”

Red Hood hiked the goon over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Danny followed after him.

“He’s the one that told me to go running back to his boss, Red Helmet.”

“It’s Red Hood.”

“That doesn’t look like a hood.”

Danny grinned as Red Helmet grumbled. How interesting! Maybe he won’t miss Amity as much as he thought he would!

“Ugh, fine, I guess someone’s gotta watch your dumb ass so you don’t get mugged.”

“I can take care of myself!”

Hood grunted. “I guess that kick wasn’t half bad.”

Danny beamed at him. “Thanks!”

——

Danny chucked a chimichanga at Red Hood.

“Wait a minute, you’re a crime lord! Being a goon was way less illegal than being a vigilante crime lord!”

Red Hood cackled at him.

[spidernuggets]

imagine red hood and the reader being friends. They helped patch him up one day and now he won't leave then alone.

Then jason todd meets reader somewhere and they bump into each other quite often.

Now imagine reader gushing to hood about how cute this guy is and how bad they want to kiss him/fuck him/whatever.

I know hood's face would be matching his helmet and he resolved to ask them out the next time they met in his civilian form.

Jason Todd x Reader

Pt. 2

"Are you for fucking real?" You grumbled, half asleep yet a bat in your hands, ready to swing at the predator who knocked all the trinkets of your living roon window sill.

Bright white eyes shone back at you, the giant figure just standing there, though his hand was clutching his side.

"Man, I told you not to come back here," you scoffed, throwing the bat to the ground and getting your first aid.

"I got sliced." The modulated voice replied nonchalantly, heading for your couch.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I see it." I muttered, kneeling in front of him, inspecting the wound. "It's not that bad, Red. Should have you fixed up in a couple of minutes.."

"There we are," you sighed, finishing the bandages, admiring your handiwork. "Do you not know how to do this shit yourself or..." You asked, packing away the supplies.

"I like the way you do it." He muttered, patting the bandages, a dumb smile across his face, behind his helmet.

"You staying the night, or do you have to head out again?"

"Go out."

"Don't get yourself hurt again. Okay?" You said, your expression softening as you stood back in front of Red Hood, cradling his helmet in your hands.

He just grunted, getting up and placing his hand on your head in silent assurance that he'll be fine.

The next afternoon, walking around the city as you stumbled across a quaint, charming book shop cafe that you haven't noticed before.

The atmosphere was comfortable when you entered as you walked around the narrow aisle of bookshelves. When you spotted a book that you've been meaning to read for a while at the top shelf, you reached up to grab it, when another hand beat you to it.

You turned to scowl at the person who took your book when you were obviously there first, when you were met eye to eye with a gorgeous stranger. His face was sharp, with jagged scars decorating his face. His nose was big and slightly crooked. His lips were chapped. His eyes were a beautiful mix of blue and green.

Your brain short-circuited, forgetting that you were going to scold the man for taking the book, but isntead, you stood there, looking like a fool as you stared at the man.

But when you realised how creepy you looked, your fight or flight responded with flight, saying absolutely nothing as you tried to walk away, mentally slapping yourself for the awkward interaction.

"You like Austen?" The gruff voice said. A familiar voice, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You turned back to the stranger.

"Uhm.. I guess.. I'm not much of a book person, but I've wanted to read 'Emma' for a while now," you sheepishly said.

He nodded. "It's good." He said, handing you the book.

You stared at it. "Are you not gonna.."

"I've read it a bunch of times." He said, taking your wrist and putting the book in your hand. "You take it."

"Oh.. thanks.." You muttered.

"Jason." He said, extending out his hand as you shook it back, giving your name in return. Jason held back from an accidental slip of an 'I know.'

"Sorry for taking it off, you," he said. "I was just a little too eager to see the book. Can I get you some coffee while we're still here?"

Your eyes widened. "Oh! You don't have to real-"

He took your wrist, taking you to the coffee shop. Honestly, you were beginning to think this guy was a serial killer from how eager he was. But it was free coffee that you weren't willing to turn down.

"I met this guy today at a book and cafe shop I ran into," you said as you focused on wrapping bandages around Red Hood's bicep. This information made his ears perk up, remembering the little meet-up the two of you had.

"Oh yeah? Gonna replace me?" He said.

You scoffed. "No. But he was pretty hot," you said nonchalantly. "He had scars all over his face. And a great nose..." You muttered as Red Hood tilted his head.

"His nose?"

You looked up at him, a suggestive glimmer in your eyes. Red Hood shifted on your couch, suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. "Is the nose the first thing you notice in a guy?"

"Not usually. His was just very distinct. I might go again tomorrow to see if he'd show up again."

And he did. He was already there the second you stepped in. And once he saw you, he was already walking up to you, seemingly determined to get to know you.

"Oh my god, Red!" You squealed that night. "He's actually so fine, you don't understand!"

Usually, Red Hood stops by because, according to him, he 'likes the way you patch him up'. But he just dropped by, unharmed because he felt like it. Also, he knew you'd talk about this Jason guy and wanted to hear what you think of him.

"His thighs- ugh!! I need my head in between them now!"

"My thighs not enough for you, sweetheart?" He muttered.

You rolled your eyes. "If I knew what you looked like, then maybe. Anyway, don't interrupt me. His hands?? I need to suck on his fingers, oh my god."

Red Hood shifted in his seat, his pants feeling tighter than usual.

But you continued. "His lips were pretty chapped. Don't ask me why I was looking at his lips, but man! I actually need him to shove his tongue down my throat. I need him to put me in a chokehold in between his biceps, I need to suck on his pecs. I can go on about the absolute VILE thoughts of what I'd let him do to me-"

Red Hood stood up. "And I don't wanna be here to hear them." He said, almost stuttering. "I'll come back tomorrow night."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I'd expect it."

When Jason got back to his safe house, running an extremely cold shower while his hand was tight around his cock, he tried getting those filthy images that you described out of his mind.

Jason was a slow pace man, so as much as he was on the verge of tossing his helmet off, giving you the fantasy of stuffing your mouth with his tongue, he wanted to do the least and ask you on a date first.

SORRY ANON I wasn't sure how to conjure up the whole date thing. I might make a part 2 if interested!!

[powerfultenderness]

Bed

Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.

Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)

Rated: T+

A/N: Just some fluff. 

Word count: 2947

[Neighbor König masterlist]

It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams. 

That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take. 

“Excuse me,” he started in German.

You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!” 

With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.” 

He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?” 

You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand. 

He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.” 

Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs. 

You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs. 

You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.

“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don’t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.

He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”

“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!” 

Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”

“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.” 

“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.” 

You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!” 

“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you   

“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.

He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.

“You should lock your door,” he followed you in. 

You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”

“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.

“Huh?”

He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor. 

“Do you need help bringing anything else up?” 

You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.” 

You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back. 

König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face. 

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.” 

You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.

Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-” 

“You won’t.”

You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!” 

His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected. 

“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!” 

Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.” 

He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around? 

With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him. 

As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.” 

“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.” 

Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too? 

“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?” 

Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.” 

Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once! 

You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-” 

“Now.”

“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”

He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?” 

Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.” 

“No.”

You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!” 

He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.

205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was. 

The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.

He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite. 

Oh. “I’m sorry.” 

He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?” 

You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.” 

Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door. 

He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.” 

There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.

You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?” 

“Oh. Sure.” 

You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company. 

Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.

“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-” 

Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”  

Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now. 

You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people. 

He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?” 

You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.” 

He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him. 

The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side. 

You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.

“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down. 

“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.

His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.  

And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep. 

He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.

-

You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-

Wait!

You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.

You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.

“König?” 

“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.

You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.

“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.

“Yes.” 

“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”

“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.

You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake! 

“No, thank you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”

“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.

You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”

“Me?”

“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”

“You like my bed?” 

“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.” 

The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!” 

“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail. 

[brucewaynehater101]

your posts about Tim being the parent in his time with Bruce+ Richard's parentification + Tim always planning of being a placeholder, got me thinking

What if Tim started off like that, playing parent for Bruce, ensuring he doesn't cross any lines or overworks himself

And just never stop?

His civilian life is starting to crack, and he's doing worse than he could be, but Batman has to be taken care off

In comes Jason who tries to kill him (great another Bruce) so his workload is doubled, and also Damian who has to be untaught murder

Well it's an escalation of what he's used to, but if he can deal with Batman, he can deal with his kids, time to bust out the books on therapy and deprogramming cult teachings

Besides, he's a placeholding for the two of them until they're better like Batman, so who better to teach them the ropes than him?

Let's toss in comments here and there that will clear misunderstandings between the Bats (excluding himself— he's temporary) and what about their interactions keeps the family apart

Like boy is neglecting himself to high hell, only stopping when it's literally impossible, and barely has a civilian life, but it's worth it for Gotham's betterment and the Batfamily's stabilization

Timestream? Well shit, he has to get Bruce back as per his job of keeping the family in order but the family is either not getting better or worse,

Let him just leave a bunch of personalized self-help guides and programmed schedules that'll ensure the bats are getting better while he's away

Oh hey Ra's, midn if I secretly learn everything about how Damian grew up in this fine League of yours so I can teach Damian what is so wrong about his childhood once I'm home?

So everything is getting better post BruceQuest, Richard can be a brother more (because Tim took on his job as parent-brother), Damian and his family are able to bond and understand each other (because Tim untaught an awful upbringing) and Jason feels like a member of the family (because Tim got Jason up to speed with how much he has always been loved) plus Bruce gets to be a father with his kids (because Tim kept the man out of his otherside inevitable self-made grave)

And say Batfamily, in a miracle of communication, realize that Tim has subsumed Bruce's role as caretaker and father

Not to the entire family of course, but even parenting for one sibling or parent as a kid yourself is one too many

And they remember all the comments Tim said to help the family get better subtly suggesting everybody but Tim is family

Like he's said "Your family," never "Our"

He says "You're a Wayne, a member of their family,"

He has to be referred to as Tim and Drake, never Wayne to catch his attention

And also imagine Richard saying "You can't keep being a parent to your brothers and father" and Tim going "glass houses, *tires to parent Rich*"

"NO—"

The shit storm that would happen if the batfamily realized that Tim donned Robin with the intention of always playing parent for Bruce, and then leaving once his intervention isn't need anymore

Yes! I absolutely love the ideas you incorporated with this. I didn't manage to hit all of them in my post, but I tried to expand upon them a bit:

At first, Tim wouldn't realize that's what he's doing. He just wants to help Bruce (even if that includes taking away the Batmobile keys, locking him out of the batcomputer, and using a rewards system when the man successfully takes care of his wounds).

Tim only comes to the realization that he's Bruce's parent when the YJ are being lectured by their mentors. At this point, the team has done far more dangerous stunts and missions than whatever the JL was lecturing them about. When the mentors come, Robin allows Batman to lecture him in front of the others. Tim knows they have to keep up appearances and can listen to a hypocritical discussion from Bruce to maintain the image of Batman Tim has spent so much time propping up.

After the other mentors leave, Tim pulls Batman into a private room for a chat. Bart, fearing that Robin is getting a second lecture, almost bursts in to save Tim. He's slowed down by the glare Tim sends his way. He's stopped by the conversation he overhears.

Tim, with his hands on his hips as he glares up into the cowl, lectures Bruce on all the behavior issues the man displayed the month that the YJ were away.

Bruce is just standing there, head slightly hung, as Tim goes on.

"This is why I feel I can never get away, B. I can't even leave you for a month before your excessive force statistics skyrocket! What am I supposed to do with you?"

Bart quickly leaves as he has a mental breakdown at this discovery. Two hours later, when Batman leaves, Bart asks Robin if he's Batman's father. Tim laughs it off at first, but after Bart lays out the evidence, Tim spirals for a few days at this discovery.

Once Tim accepts that he *is* like Bruce's dad, he decides to just embrace it. He and Alfred can share custody of the man-child (and this is also why Tim has the view of family that he does. His three examples of being a father are his own dad who constantly leaves, Alfred who maintains a professional distance, and Bruce who's his grieving son). Tim sees Dick as his brother, but he sees Bruce as his kid. It's confusing as hell, complicated, and Tim also doesn't see himself as part of the family at the same time.

While the teen is finally settling into his role as Bruce's parent, Jason comes back and tries to kill him. He doesn't know whether or not to laugh that Jason becomes his new responsibility at the same place Bruce officially (in Tim's mind) became Tim's.

The teen treats Jason similar to a grandson and son. He parents Bruce on how to interact with Jason, takes a few college classes and reads a few textbooks on PTSD, and interrogates LoA agents on the Pit. He slowly starts to feed them both phrases and perspectives so that they understand and interact with each other better. He almost wants to hit them both upside the head for their miscommunication.

It's not great, and Tim is so fucking tired, but they are getting closer to being a family. Tim can almost taste his retirement.

Then Damian comes into the family and tries to kill him. Tim wants to scream.

Damian isn't exactly friendly to Tim, but the teen spots a breakthrough when he catches how Dick and Damian interact. He, in what he later calls foolishly, drops some of the weight onto Dick's shoulders. Tim's tired trying to wrangle both Jason and Bruce into somewhat, even unhealthily, communicating with each other.

Then Bruce dies. It's unfair because Tim has lost someone who's both his son and his father to him. No one except Cassie could know about the amount of grief Tim is under because of that. Cassie, who Tim isn't talking to after the whole basement scientist cloning thing.

So, Tim finds evidence that Bruce is alive. He watches as Dick cracks under the weight of Batman and being a father to Damian. He's hurt (oh gods does it burn to lose his self-made but suffocating role that ties him to Bruce), but he understands why Dick gives Damian Robin.

Tim leaves, and he starts to discover himself. He became an adoptive father at thirteen. For once, even though he's heavily lost in the thralls of grief, he's free of that responsibility. He only has to take care of himself (an exhausting task he's never quite accomplished before) and he doesn't rely on anyone.

Still, despite his freedom, he sees Ra's offer for what it is. It's an opportunity to learn more about Damian. Bruce will need Tim's support when he returns, after all. If he takes down Ra's both for himself and Damian, that's neither here nor there.

When Bruce finally returns home, Tim starts to see his retirement again. He sees the progress he's enacting out of the family in all of their relationships. Like Tim's messy relationship with Bruce, Dick is both a father and brother to Damian. Jason and Bruce will occasionally meet at a diner. Damian and Bruce will have father-child outings outside of Batman and Robin. Cass returns home more often. Steph barges into the Manor for food or bugs different Bats on patrol. Babs is able to take time for herself outside of wrangling the Bats together. Duke is starting to join the family, but Tim doesn't imagine too much tension or difficulty with that transition. They'll be fine without him.

It's looking up. Tim can leave behind his the Wayne family.

Then Damian points out how Tim often uses "your" or "their" instead of "our" family.

Godsdamnit.

[chamomilewrittingblock]

Solo Leveling Brainrots

Fellow Jinwoo Simps I need your thoughts and opinion!! Also MASSIVE brainrot warning!!!

QUESTION: How do you think Jinwoo would react to his partner questioning his taste in lovers? (ie. Being interested in Reader themselves)

How id imagine the confession would go: Jinwoo, pre-awakening: I like you *holds bouquet of flowers Reader, confused: um! *looks around to see if he's talking to someone behind them before pointing at themselves confused*... me? Jinwoo: Yes, You. Reader, Shocked: oh! Um... I like you too... but *hesitates* are you sure? About me??

The feeling is mutual!!! It's just his lover doesn't have alot of confidence in themselves. Or any confidence into getting a romance with anyone, let alone Jinwoo!! Reader feels like they have ZERO RIZZ (reader has enough rizz to woo Jinwoo so...).

Like would he hype them up???? Mayhaps but in subtle ways though I'd imagine🤔🤔. You think he'd be extra affectionate when reader gets shy??? Would this differ pre and post awakening?? (I imagine Jinwoo and reader wouldn't want the relationship public due to safety since hes a hunter and all)

AND WHAT ABOUT HIS POST AWAKENING GLOWUP AND THE FANS!!! READERS ALREADY SHY BUT THE TABLOID EVENTUALLY CHIPS AT THE SLOWLY BUILT CONFIDENCE JINWOO HELPED BUILD.

OHMYGOSH WHAT ABOUT THE TABLOIDS WITH CHA HAE-IN???? WOULD HE GET WORRIED SINCE READER MIGHT GET INSECURE OR JUST KINDA SAD???

WHAT IF READER TELLS HIM THAT HE DESERVES BETTER, BELIVJNG THAT READWR DOESNT DESERVE HIS LOVE?? AAAA OUCHHHH.. I GUESS HE HAS TO STAY WITH READER AND REMIND THEM OF HIS UNWAVERING LOVE WITH CUDDLES AND QUALITY TIME DJBDBFIDN

(reader is Jinwoo's ride-or-die, the monarch of his heart and soul, the love reader gives him is like comfort of warm soup at the end of the day, the kind that soothes even the deepest of wounds. Reader's love is also a drug, one that he cant get enough of. If he loses reader, Jinwoo would go insane.)

AUDBUDBDIBD HOLY!!!! WOULD HE GET PISSED ABOUT IT AND ENDS UP GETTING CLINGY IF CRAZY SHIPPERS TRYING TO PUT READER IN DANGER IE. SENDING A MONSTER READER'S WAY BECAUSE OF THEM BEING A "THREAT" TO THEIR SHIP (HIM AND CHA HAE-IN)??? I MEAN LIKE GUIDE THE MONSTER SPECIFICALLY AWAY FROM THE DUNGEON TO READERS LOCATION TOO. (TO THE EXTENT THAT ITS CLEARLY FOUL PLAY)

LIKE THANK THE MONARCHS THAT READER HAD SHADOWS ASSIGNED AND MAYBE WAS DECENTLY RANKED AFTER AWAKENING BUT IT COULD HAVE ENDED AWFUL IF THE FATES WERENT ON READERS SIDE!!

WOULD HIS ARMY GET PROTECTIVE TOO?? IGRIS??? BERU??? LIKE HOW DARE THESE FOOLS HARM THEIR MONARCHS BELOVED?!?!?!? 😡😡EVEN WORSE IS IF READER WORMED THEIR WAY INTI THEIR HEARTS BY GENUINELY GETTING TO KNOW THEM SO ITS PERSONAL NOW TOO!!

Reader has to calm down not only a PISSED jinwoo but his Shadows too (mainly Jinwoo though)!! And maybe being the only reason Jinwoo hadn't gone on a rampage after everything setted. Was he bribed with a heated makout session and plenty of cuddles afterwards to temper his rage and soothe his anxiety, yes. Did it work??? Probably. If it did??That's none of our buisness.

Id imagie Cha Hae-in would feel bad™ if they found out about Jinwoo and reader (just assuming the two being best friends)?? Being like "oh shit someone, a civilian no less, almost died because of her fans" Even worse if later on she learns that they're together aaaaa

But like seriously, what a messed up reminder of the power S-Rank Hunter have on the media. Yes, they know about their celebrity status affecting what they can or can't do but like this??? A whole different level, because yes, people targeting other?? Awful? Yes, but its fine. Using a MONSTER FROM A DUNGEON to target a CIVILIAN?? This is a whole new level of messed up.

Would the other S-ranks and National-ranked hunters feel like kinda bad too once they hear about it??

what the fuck??? For the following reasons:

No one deserves that

Its a civilian going against fans that are most likely hunters, the very individuals hunters are ment to protect from monsters ever since the dungeons appeared

THE HUNTERS USED A HIGH RANKED MONSTER TO TARGET A CIVILIAN (the mutual enemy internationally)

this was all done because PEOPLE BEING ENTITLMENT OF THE RELATIONSHIPS OF THE S-RANK HUNTERS.

This is furthur solidified and makes the WHOLE DEBACHLE worse because only EXPERIENCED hunters would have the knowledge and experince to be able to lure a monster from a dungeon break to a specific location, especially if reader wasn't even near the dungeon in the first place.

(For anyone who's read this all the way, thanks for reading my silly thoughts!)

[ceilidho]

Ceilidh, I keep thinking about soap and ghost who are absolutely pro omega rights (soap in particular, or at least he’s more vocal about it). Like fuck those old, conservative assholes who think omegas should be seen and not heard, whose only purpose is to lie back, listen to their alpha and take a damn knot when they’re told.

They’ve both worked with omegas that got shit done – civilians AND military operatives, they know better and they’ll damn well shut anyone up who starts spouting that regressive shit.

But their own omega, well that’s a different story. Poor little thing doesn’t know what’s good for her, best if she gets rid of all those silly notions of hers and just let ghost and soap take care of her like they’re s’posed to.

ok in total honesty you almost lost me in the first half because as much as i would love that irl, it doesn't interest me so much in fiction where i want them to be deranged freaks. but you GOT me in that last paragraph.

neither being particularly activistic, but they also don't indulge in the casual omega denigration that some of their colleagues participate in. if an alpha says something shitty while Soap is around, Soap will usually snap back something about how maybe the alpha saying it should take notes from the omega civilian and military operators on base because "at least they're actually proficient at their fucking jobs". he'll genuinely get in fights when his temper flares up just enough - loves sparring when he's taken a particular dislike to someone because it means he has permission to beat the shit out of them.

Ghost doesn't have the patience for verbal fights, but he'll request an immediate transfer of any alpha sergeant or private with the misfortune of thinking that someone of Ghost's stature and size and general look would agree with their primitive beliefs. or he'll riddle them with hard labour and assignments that'll leave them exhausted and broken.

but when it comes to their omega? oh no, she's kept off base in the house they've purchased. they even contemplate retirement after finding her, neither of them comfortable with being away from their omega for extended periods of time. she's taken off her suppressants the second they get her locked up, the two of them helping her work through the withdrawals, getting her nice and relaxed on their knots.

despite the fact that the two of them are alphas, Soap always defers to Ghost, so Ghost is the one that knots her first. Soap gets to work her through the worst of her heats though, stamina letting him go for hours, overstimulating the both of them to the point of pain.

poor girl probably had a job and friends and maybe even volunteered before those two brutes stole her from whatever former life she was living. Soap is so enamoured with her temper tantrums, the way she demands they let her go. pinches her cheeks and coos when she gets worked up to the point of tears. she doesn't understand how they can have so much respect for the omegas in their field while keeping her locked up in their house, but the cognitive dissonance just works for them. their omega is just too soft and breakable to be out in the world (regardless of how tall she is or how she's built, how muscled or tough. to them, she's breakable)

i love writing them as hypocritical assholes :\\\\

[lycheeloving]

a concept I've been rotating in my head for a really long time now is an AU where the entire Justice League is yandere... with multiverse stuff, because I'm still me <3

They have some sort of machine in the Watchtower that can be used to contact and monitor other universes and even open portals, they've been in contact with a bunch of other Justice Leagues and help each other out in case of extreme emergencies.

However, they all spend a lot of time at the machine doing things unrelated to what it's supposed to be used for. They each watch a different civilian in a different universe, are basically obsessed with them, you could even say they're stalking them... They all try to do this secretly, as they're aware that this isn't exactly behavior that's seen as normal and healthy (and morally sound). Some of them are more successful at hiding it than others.

I imagine Batman would be the first to connect the dots that they're all obsessed with someone, gather evidence of everyone doing this, call everyone to a meeting and confront them with said evidence, only to then reveal that he's been doing the same thing...

And then he suggests bringing their obsessions here, as this behavior has caused them all to be distracted and get worse at their Justice League business, but if their darlings were here, they would no longer have to worry if they were safe or not! Additionally, as they're all from different universes, nobody would think to accuse the Justice League of this universe to be responsible for the kidnappings, nobody would be able to even connect the dots that the kidnappings are related! Batman tries to make it seem like he's suggesting this because he's worried about their performance, and not because he wants to get his darling closer to him, close enough to finally touch.

Everyone eagerly agrees, of course (after getting over the embarrassment of "Oh shit, Batman saw me stalking someone"). After some preparations, like choosing and remodeling rooms so the objects of their affections will hopefully feel comfortable being kept there (well, as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances), they all work together to discreetly relocate all of their darlings from their original universes to their new home, the Watchtower in this universe.

Each darling gets their own room (that they share with their yandere, of course), but there's also rooms that are accessible to all of them, like a living room, a kitchen, etc, so they don't have to be alone when their yandere is out on patrol.

Everyone in the League tries to justify it to themselves by repeating how they're helping so many people, they've never asked for anything in return, they deserve this, but subconsciously they're all aware that what they're doing is not ok, they just don't care enough about that to stop. It's too late for that now anyways, their darlings are already here, they can't just return them!

I want to write something about what it's like to be the darling of the different members of the league at some point (and about the darlings escaping], but that might take a while, we'll see. Feel free to suggest Justice League members I should include though, I haven't quite decided about who exactly I want to be involved in this AU (other than the obvious Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. and probably Flash)

I've already written for: Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Superman

date night

[cowboydisaster]

Just Like You

pairing: SImon "Ghost" Riley x single mom reader word count: 1.6k summary: Ghost can't get used to the fact that he's your son's favorite person in the world, but damn- he's trying. ("You- You're me for Halloween??") a/n: this fic references the comics, so for those who didn't know: Joseph was Simon's nephew. Super angsty and fluffy. Simon bonding with your kid. beta read by @margowritesthings

masterlist

Leo loves Halloween. It’s your son’s favorite time of year. The five year old boy, with your help, worked incredibly hard on his costume, and he’s sure it's going to be the best costume on the block. You may be a little biased, but really, it’s very good. Leo has put extra effort into perfecting every detail of his costume, because this year is special.

It’s the first year that Simon will be accompanying Leo with trick or treat. Leo loves Simon to pieces– but Simon can’t figure out why. The soldier elicits fear from nearly everyone that he encounters, his mask makes children scream and run in the other direction. Hell, his mask makes adults piss themselves in the field. Many enemy soldiers have surrendered at the sight of Ghost running towards them. So Simon can’t wrap his head around the fact that his girlfriend’s little boy looks up at him like he’s the greatest person in the world. 

Simon is less than stellar with children. He tries, but he’s not entirely sure how to talk to them. He’s always a little awkward, generally avoiding children when he can, but this one seeks him out. Simon loves you more than anything, and he wants to form a relationship with Leo, he’s just not exactly sure how. He’s trying, for you and the boy. Leo’s biological dad is a piece of shit, which Simon has lived through, and he tries to shield the poor kid from that pain as much as possible. Maybe it’s because Leo reminds him so much of Tommy and Joseph, but your kid is special. 

–

“You ready, bud?” You ask, pulling a hoodie over your frame. It’s Simon’s and it’s oversized, stopping just above your knees. But it's comfortable, and late-October in Manchester is not. Immediately, you find yourself encompassed in its warmth and the smell of Simon’s cologne.

“Almost, mummy!” Leo yells from the bathroom. “Simon is gonna love this!”

You chuckle, “I know he will, baby.” You grab the fresh mug of tea from your nightstand and head down the carpeted stairs. Simon was to be here an hour before trick or treat. You check your watch. 18:00. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, sounding out loudly through your little home. Always punctual. Leo squeals out of excitement at the sound.

“Coming!” You holler, padding across the chilly living room towards the door. You jog lightly, causing a few drops of tea to spill over from the lip of your mug, dripping down to the floor and splashing against the hardwood floor. Ignoring the little mess, you pull the frosted glass door open. Simon is wearing his less civilian mask with the hard plastic skull face. You’d specifically requested that he wear it, though he wasn’t sure why.

“You can just come in, you know. You don’t have to ring the doorbell.” You chuckle, nodding for him to come in. He steps inside the door, hands softly gripping onto your waist as he kicks the door shut. 

“I told you to keep your door locked.” Simon raises an eyebrow, squeezing your waist. 

“Oh, right…” You hum, squinting your eyes as you recall that conversation, “I forgot.”

“Course you did, love.” Simon smirks, “Happy Halloween.” he says, and you chuckle, gripping his skull mask by the teeth and pushing it up over his face. His scarred lips are sporting a smile, and you kiss it away. It’s over all too quick as he pulls away, nodding towards the cup of tea in your hand. 

“The kettle’s still on, yeah?” He asks, pulling the mask back down over his face. 

“Yes, I’ll get you a cuppa.” You roll your eyes playfully. He’s cutting your kisses short for tea, something he’ll make up for later, you’re sure. Simon glances around the living room, noting the few abandoned truck toys that lie around the living room.

“Where’s Leo?” Simon asks, looking around the living room as you walk towards the kitchen. 

“He’s just finishing getting ready upstairs. Why don’t you go up? I'll bring your tea up.” You hum, grabbing a tea bag and Simon’s favorite mug. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and take that as his response. 

You shake your head, amused as you slowly pour the steaming water over the tea bag, watching it turn a rich brown. Once it’s properly mashed, you add his preferred amount of milk and sugar, and then carefully start up the stairs. Your footsteps are naturally much quieter than Simon’s, and with the added fact that you’re trying not to spill his tea, he doesn’t hear you coming up the steps. You reach the top, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight around the corner. Simon is walking towards Leo’s bedroom, but from the angle you’re at, you can see Leo hiding around the corner as if he's about to scare Simon. Leo is fully dressed in his Halloween costume, a little replica of the exact outfit Simon is currently wearing, skull mask and all.

“Boo!” Leo screams, rounding the corner that Simon was just about to go around.

Simon clutches his chest, jumping back a comical amount. Simon literally screams, attempting to sound terrified. Obviously Simon isn’t scared in the least, but Leo doesn’t know that. Simon lets the boy proudly think that his costume is scary enough to frighten the unshakeable. Leo’s smile is as bright as ever under his mask, and you grip the cup of tea a little tighter as a smile pulls at your own lips. Simon’s eyes are comically wide as he fakes terror for the young boy. Entirely satisfied with Simon’s reaction, Leo pulls his mask off, giggling madly. 

“It’s okay, Simon! It’s just me, don't be scared!” Leo giggles, jogging up towards Simon who is bent over at the waist, pretending to gasp for breath and holding his chest.

“Bloody hell, mate. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Simon chuckles, scooping Leo up into his arms. Once settled on Simon’s hip, Leo holds the plastic mask up to Simon’s face. It’s an exact replica of the mask he’s currently wearing, just much smaller. 

“Look! I'm just like you for Halloween!” Leo smiles, showing Simon all the little details that he’d put into perfecting his mask. 

“You–” Simon’s brow furrows, “You’re me for Halloween?” He asks, piecing it all together. Leo holds the mask out to Simon, who takes it and looks over the smaller version of Ghost’s infamous skull mask. 

“Yep! Do you like it…?” Leo asks, sounding a bit worried. His little eyebrows pull together, and Simon is quick to reassure him. 

“I love it, mate. It’s perfect, looks just like mine.” Simon whispers. There is emotion in his voice, unusual for him, you note. Tears prick your eyes as Leo puts the mask back on, looking up at Simon. 

“I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Leo says, wrapping his little arms around Simon’s neck. 

“You’re gonna be better than me, Leo. Much better, yeah?” Simon whispers, looking the boy in the eyes. Leo nods, curling up against Simon’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Leo’s back, comforting him. 

“You know, Leo, you remind me of a boy I used to know.” Simon mumbles in a rare show of emotional vulnerability, his eyes glazed over as he pats the boy’s back. 

“Who?” Leo asks, propping his chin on Simon’s chest to look up at him better. 

“Uh–” Simon hesitates. “His name was Joseph… He was my nephew.” Simon whispers, and your heart wrenches in your chest. 

“Maybe I could meet him someday and we could play.” Leo whispers, hopefully looking up. 

“Yeah. Maybe someday.” Is all Simon says, nodding lightly as old, ugly memories pull at his brain, ones he’d shoved out and burned long ago. 

“I love you, Simon.” Leo whispers, hugging his little arms as tightly around the man as he can manage. He pulls Simon out of every dark thought he was having, those three little words pulling at his heart strings. Simon hesitates, voice stuttering for a moment. 

“Yeah– I love you too, little mate.” Simon whispers, voice heavy with emotion.

“This is gonna be so much fun– Mummy even helped me with my costume!” Leo adds, unintentionally changing the subject. He creates a perfect time for you to announce your presence. 

You hastily wipe your eyes and walk up the last step, rounding the corner you were just hiding behind. You catch Simon off guard, and he turns to you, slowly placing the young boy back on the ground.

“I didn’t hear you come up.” Simon whispers, taking the mug from your outstretched hands. He’s far away, lost in thought. Leo runs down the hall to grab his treat bag as Simon wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Didn’t want to spill your cuppa.” You explain, resting your head on his chest for a moment. Leo comes back around the corner with his bag, excitedly waiting for trick or treat to begin.

You smile up at Simon, noticing a few little tear tracks running down through his eye black.

ghost taglist: @moths569

[doumadono]

was wondering how tomura shigaraki and dabi would respond to a female reader after she lost her parents to criminals and no hero came to save them? if you have any questions to clear things up dm me

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

Dabi

It was one of Dabi's rare quiet moments, where he let himself sit in his usual slouch, one leg draped over the armrest of a tattered couch, fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers as his gaze was fixed on a ceiling. Smoke curled from his lips in lazy spirals, painting hazy shadows across his face.

You sat across from him on the tattered couch, your eyes unfocused as you stared at the TV.

The news had just aired another report, praising a group of heroes for their brave intervention in rescuing civilians from a hostage situation.

Dabi’s eyes had flicked toward you, catching the way your shoulders tightened, your hands clasped so hard your knuckles turned white.

You looked as if you were barely breathing.

“Something eating you?” His voice broke the silence, casual but carrying an edge that forced attention. You startled, turning to him, and his narrowed eyes tracked you through the hazy filter of smoke. “You’ve been weird ever since that report.”

You looked away, struggling to keep your expression blank. “It’s nothing. Just thoughts.”

“Oh, don’t pull that on me.”A flicker of impatience creased Dabi’s face, and he took another slow drag, eyes half-lidded as he exhaled a plume of smoke that seemed to linger, heavy and expectant. “Is that right? So, nothing’s had you looking like you’re gonna crack any second?” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he fixed you with that sharp stare. Dabi’s voice was sharp, almost bored when he asked, “Since when did you start lying to me?”

His tone was flat, but it twisted something inside you, dragging the words from a place you thought you’d buried. “It’s 'bout my parents,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “They… They were killed by criminals. They were just waiting for someone — anyone — to come and save them. But no heroes came.”

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the faint crackle of Dabi’s cigarette. His gaze hardened, mouth set in a sharp line as he took in your words. “So they were stranded?” It was hardly a question.

You nodded, and he scoffed, flicking ash to the ground, his hand flexing like he was picturing crushing something far less innocent than a cigarette. “So, let me get this straight. These heroes get pats on the back for doing the bare minimum, but when it mattered…?”

“...They didn’t come,” you finished, the words rough, each syllable scraping against the memory. You let out a shaking breath, turning to Dabi, unable to hide the raw hurt. “I know it’s pointless to dwell on it, but I thought heroes were supposed to help.”

He laughed, a harsh sound with no warmth. “Heroes. Yeah. All they care about is their damned spotlight.” He took another drag, the smoke curling between you both like a veil. “Let’s be real — they don’t give a shit about people like you and me. We’re the background to their big, showy heroics.”

You looked down, feeling the truth of his words cut into you, bitter and sharp. “I thought they were good,” you murmured, more to yourself than him.

“Good?” Dabi scoffed, his voice was low, dangerous, tainted with a resentment that felt as familiar as it was twisted. “They’re parasites. They want to look good, sound good. But the moment they’re out of the spotlight?” He exhaled, the smoke carrying his words, thick and full of venom. “You’re just another nobody left in the ashes.”

Slowly nodding your head, you fidgeted in your spot a little, trying to find a comfortable position while pulling your knees under your chin.

“You know,” the fire-quirked villain started, voice dripping with venom, “I’d bet anything that bastard Endeavor would spit on corpses if it meant climbing one step higher on his precious ladder. Hell, he’d probably grin about it, too.” He let out a slow, bitter chuckle, smoke curling around his face as he leaned back, cerulean eyes fixed on you. “Heroes like him? They’re all about that damn rank. Doesn’t matter who they trample or leave behind in the dust.”

You flinched, the thought of a hero so revered by the world doing something so heartless hitting you like a punch to the chest. But as you looked at Dabi, saw the bitterness carved into every line of his face, you knew he believed it with every fiber of his being. And somewhere deep down, you found yourself believing it, too.

“He’s proof that heroes don’t care,” Dabi continued, his voice low, almost a growl. “Everything they do, it’s for the spotlight. They’d let the whole damn world burn if it meant looking like gods when they finally swoop in to save the day."

He took another drag, then exhaled slowly. “They’re not worth the damn pain, you know that?” He leaned closer, close enough that you could smell the smoke mingling with the faint scent of burned leather on his coat. “Let it go. You’re wasting your breath on a rigged game. Aim that anger at the right people.”

The cigarette burned down to its last smoldering inch, and he let it drop, grinding it into the floor with the heel of his boot. His voice softened, but it was no less cutting, each word sharp and unrelenting. “Don’t waste your grief on them, on people who’d rather walk over your bones than lift a finger to help. If you’re gonna feel anything, let it be anger. They’re the ones who deserve it. People like us? We learn early on. Heroes don’t save us. We save ourselves.”

You swallowed hard, his words settling into your chest like smoldering coals. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Dabi."

"Anytime," he playfully tapped your nose before grabbing the remote to change the channel.

Shigaraki

The news hit like a brick thrown through glass.

Shigaraki had been leaning against the tattered, peeling wall of the League's hideout, his usual impatience masked beneath an outwardly calm stare as the TV anchor praised the hero squad for their latest rescue. The words commendation ceremony and heroic intervention dripped from the screen, followed by footage of the smiling, grateful civilians they'd saved.

That was when Shigaraki noticed you — frozen, your eyes locked on the screen but devoid of focus. He knew that look too well.

Without a word, he turned off the TV with a sharp flick. The silence was jarring. Everyone else had left the room, leaving only you and him in the shadows, and he could feel the tension radiating from you, thick and unmistakable. “Something’s eating you,” he muttered, voice low. He approached you slowly, each step deliberate. You stayed silent, hugging yourself as if shielding against memories that had started seeping through the cracks. “You haven’t been yourself. Not for a while now.”

Your mouth opened, as if to speak, but the words refused to come.

Shigaraki's gaze tightened, his face cloaked in shadow as he leaned down, his pinky finger raised delicately as he cupped your cheek with his calloused hand. The contact was surprisingly gentle, yet his grip left no doubt about his intentions. “I don’t like being ignored. Especially not by you.”

It was a whisper, barely more than a breath, but it shattered the barrier you’d been holding up. You swallowed hard, then looked up into his crimson eyes, feeling his hand burn against your skin like a brand. “My parents…” Your voice cracked, trembling with the ache of unspoken pain. “They were killed by criminals. They were just normal people. They thought heroes would come to save them.”

You told him everything. That people waited but no one had come. No heroes had appeared, not even as everything you loved slipped away.

When you finished speaking, you looked down, twisting your hands together, waiting. Waiting for some kind of response, some words of comfort or outrage.

But he was silent.

You glanced back up, and what you saw made your heart stutter.

Shigaraki was scratching his neck, his fingers digging into the skin, red welts rising beneath his nails, his lips pulled back in a twisted half-grin that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked haunted, unhinged, every bit of him coiled tight with a rage you could feel pulsing in the air.

A tear rolled down your flushed cheek, your chin quivering.

A beat of silence passed, and then another. Shigaraki’s red eyes sharpened as he reached his hand out to wipe the tear off with his thumb. "So no one came.” His voice was dark, edged with something colder than empathy — an understanding that cut straight to the bone. His hand stilled, but his fingers curled tightly against his neck, his knuckles white with the pressure.

You shook your head, hands clenching as the memories clawed back up, dragging you under. “No one. They… They died waiting.”

Tomura sat beside you, leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes narrowing as his voice turned colder. “They left you to rot. Left you to suffer so they could keep up appearances.” His lip curled, and he shook his head slowly, that dark, knowing smirk twisting his face. “Heroes… The real disease of our world."

He watched you, eyes half-lidded, barely blinking. He had no soft words, no platitudes, but his presence was a comfort laced with something darker, something real. “They pretend to save everyone, wear their titles like armor. But they’re weak, selfish, just waiting to play hero for the cameras.”

The flicker of resentment in his voice pulled at you, like kindling to a flame. He didn’t flinch, didn’t try to smooth over the pain — he let it breathe, feeding off your anger as if it were his own. The tight line of his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffened, all betrayed the depth of his own hatred.

“You’re right,” you whispered, the words feeling sharp in your throat, sharper than they’d ever felt before. “They don’t care about people. They never did...”

His hand moving back to your face. “Then stop hurting over it. They’re not worth your pain. They’re nothing.” His thumb traced along your jaw, an unexpected tenderness threaded through his quiet fury. "I want to rip them apart,” he uttered, his tone low and venomous, voice shaking with the intensity of his hatred. “Every single one of those worthless fakes. I want to watch them decay, feel them crumble to dust.” His voice dropped even lower, so quiet you barely heard him. “I want them to suffer.”

You nodded, feeling the first glimmers of solace in his touch. It was twisted, tainted by anger, but it was real.

He leaned closer to you, simply placing a kitten kiss to your cheek before saying, “No one else gets to hurt you like this.” His voice wavered, a hint of something raw, vulnerable, beneath the anger. “Not while I’m here. Not while I can do something about it.”

[kingkatsuki]

Everyone leaving a business course in Japan knows that Dynamight PR is THE job to get. Everyone strives and works for it without really knowing what they’re getting into. They just know it’s the highest paying job you can get and you’ll either never need to go job hunting again, or you’ll have an amazing job on your CV. That is until they work there and realise that Dynamight is a dog that cannot be contained by his PR team and the reason you get hired on the spot if you go looking for other jobs is ‘well if you can work for Dynamight, you can work for anyone’

I could write about this trope for hours I’m so obsessed with it— he’d make your job so insufferable whilst simultaneously being the best part of it😫

On paper, a job at Dynamight’s agency is the dream for anyone in business— never mind a student fresh out of school with no experience. Strict NDA’s meant there was little information about what a job working for Dynamight’s PR team was really like, but the fact that his current manager was signed off sick for stress should’ve been an indication of what the job would be like for you.

You didn’t meet Dynamight during your interview, even though it was held at his agency. A fact you found a little peculiar, thinking a Hero climbing the rankings would be invested in who he’d have as his PR assistant— especially as it could help further his career, but it didn’t surprise you. Dynamight was one of the most in-demand heroes, with the media, fans and public desperate for his attention. Of course he wouldn’t have the time to interview everyone that applied for the job.

But you didn’t even meet Dynamight when you got the job. The three weeks since had been surprisingly calm, surprisingly easy. You’d spend your days filtering through emails, most of them from fans who’d beg for a chance of meeting the Pro, or autographs or merch. Not unlike a lot of the emails from the media, trying to arrange interviews or publicity stunts while trying to offer their fees.

The only complaint you’d received was from a young photographer that hadn’t known any better when he shoved his camera directly under Bakugou’s nose during a rescue mission, the hulking Pro carrying an injured civilian over one of his broad shoulders as he grabbed the camera with his palm. The heat of his quirk no match for the intricate technology as it melted beneath his touch, effectively destroying the memory card as he let it drop to the ground. The only evidence a blurry, charred JPEG of Bakugou’s angry face as he reached out for the device. The complaint quickly settled with a new photography set as compensation, as well as a well scripted apology from the Pro. An apology, which you soon realised, was carefully scripted by yourself and signed by the Pro-Hero himself.

“What do you want?” You hadn’t expected these to be the first words your new boss would say to you, and yet here you were.

“Oh, I’m your new PR assistant,” You understood now why people felt intimidated in his presence. Crimson eyes shot you a glare from across the room before he quickly went back to the laptop on his desk, even though thick-rimmed glasses he still felt as intimidating as ever. Even if he did look much cuter like this— “I just need you to sign this apology to the photographer from last week—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ signing that shit,” He scoffed, “Tell that prick he’s lucky it wasn’t his head.”

Now you understood why there were always vacancies available for this job.

You were certain Dynamight wasn’t trying to make your job difficult on purpose, he always seemed to answer your calls when he was inside his office— even if it was usually with an abrupt “what?”. And he even agreed to tone down his aggressive views online, “Fine, sweetheart. I’ll cut the fuckin’ politics. But you know those fuckers need tellin’ how dumb they are”. The peace could only ever be short lived, because no matter how hard you tried, things just seemed to get worse.

If the hero commission weren’t a bunch of pussies Deku wouldn’t be number one for another year in a row.

“Oh my god,” Your eyes squinted as you read the tweet at six in the morning, before you’d even had a chance to wake up and get ready for the day.

The likes and retweets continued to grow as you began to get messages from your team at the agency, and the media as you contemplated just never coming back.

Usually someone in the IT department would lock his account just in time, or intercept the tweets but it wasn’t always quick enough. You really were in the trenches as you decided to take matters into your own hands. Scrolling to your contacts as you called your boss immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and calm the migraine you knew was coming on.

“You’re callin’ a bit late for a bootycall, sweetheart—” He grunted, his breathing laboured on the other side of the phone so you assumed he was at the gym. Or so you hoped, not wanting to imagine him on top of another woman whilst talking to you, “Don’t you start work in an hour?”

“Cut the crap, Bakugou,” You snapped, irritated by the offensive tweet mere hours after he’d promised to tone it down, “You said no more ridiculous tweets.”

“You said no more ridiculous tweets,” He mimicked your tone, “I’m just posting pure fuckin’ facts and you know it. If the commission weren’t so far up Deku’s ass I’d be number one by now.”

“No,” You growled, “If you weren’t such an insufferable asshole all the fucking time and actually tried to show up to some of the events that were organised for you, you might actually have a chance of changing public perception of you. Nevermind the simple fact that Deku had better numbers than you this month. Deku’s number one because he deserves to be, but you deserve it too. So maybe if you fixed up we could get you there, but instead you choose to be a jerk.”

You couldn’t believe the words had left your mouth. Every single ounce of annoyance and irritation you’d felt working under Dynamight for the past month had spewed out in under thirty seconds. The emotions you’d kept bottled up every time you received a new complaint or read a new interview or post from Bakugou, now released from your system.

And even though you were certain that you’d lost your job now, at least you could say that you’d given your notice in style.

“Well shit,” You heard the running stop on the other side of the phone as you assumed he paused his treadmill, panting into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You sighed, “Maybe it’s better if you get someone else for the job—”

“I like it when you’re pissed, sweetheart.” He cut you off completely, catching you off guard, “I’ll see you in an hour. You can tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

[cynicalrosebud]

Hello!! I saw your requests are open! So can I ask shy! civilian! reader x Soap (my fav), Ghost, Gaz and Price that reader is gun! nerd? Like reader knows weapons, very well since they play shooting games (only in single player), do research (especially in her novel because she wants to write gun fights.)

Tactical Observer

The rest of dear nonny's request was a separate ask so I'll add it below:

"Oh! I forgot to say by shy! civilian! gun nerd reader that they like to analyse and touch weapons, even if it's fake. But they prefer not shoot, they prefer to watch it."

Oh nonny, you are fueling my lifeblood. Wrote this shit in a coffee and frybread daze over the span of an hour.

Summary: Y/n, a quiet and reclusive civilian with an uncanny knowledge of firearms, is brought on as a consultant for Task Force 141. Her expertise, gained through research for her novel and a deep obsession with the mechanics of weapons, quickly captivates the team. Though she prefers to study and observe rather than engage in combat, her presence draws the attention of Soap, Ghost, Gaz, and Price. Beneath the surface of their professional interactions, a deeper, more complex connection begins to form—one that transcends the battlefield. Unbeknownst to Y/n, the team isn't just fascinated by her skills—they’re enthralled by her. As the tension grows between them, Y/n finds herself pulled into an intricate, mysterious bond that leaves her both protected and adored by all four men.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Y/n had been minding her own business, walking through the quieter outskirts of the city, notebook in hand, jotting down ideas for her latest chapter. Her novel—an action thriller that involved military operations—required a lot of research, particularly about guns. Y/n spent hours reading up on weapon mechanics, loadouts, and modifications. It fascinated her, though she had never been one to actually shoot. She just liked knowing how it all worked.

But her peaceful research day turned into chaos when gunfire erupted nearby, throwing her into a situation she never expected. Ducking into an alley, her heart raced. She knew enough about firearms to recognize the sharp crack of an M4, followed by the deeper, heavier shots of AKs. This wasn’t just a random street brawl; it was organized and lethal.

Before she could react further, a strong hand grabbed her and pulled her behind cover. She yelped but quickly realized her rescuer was a soldier—decked out in gear, with a Scottish accent thick enough to cut through the noise.

“Gaz! Price! We’ve got a civilian!” Soap shouted into his comms as he shielded Y/n from the spray of bullets.

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed and shaken, clutching her notebook to her chest. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. She had written about these kinds of scenes, but experiencing it firsthand was a different story entirely.

Another soldier appeared, this one towering over her, his face obscured by a skull mask. Ghost. She recognized him from stories she’d read online, from the games she’d played, but seeing him in person was a different kind of intimidating.

“Who the hell are you?” Ghost’s voice was rough, filled with irritation but also concern. “And what the bloody hell are you doin’ here?”

“I-I was just… I’m just a writer,” Y/n stammered, clutching her notebook tighter. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Stay low and don’t get in the way,” Ghost growled, helping her crouch down further. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Hours later, after a whirlwind of gunfire and chaos, Y/n found herself holed up in a safe house with the team of soldiers who had inadvertently rescued her. She was still processing everything that had happened, but her mind kept drifting to the weapons they carried. They were all so finely tuned, customized in ways that made her writer's brain buzz with excitement.

Soap, sitting nearby, noticed her staring at his rifle. He had seen that look before—usually in people who loved guns. He leaned back casually and grinned. “Yer eyes haven’t left that M4 since we got in here. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, eh?”

Y/n blushed, shifting awkwardly. “Oh, um… It’s just… It’s a really nice setup. You’ve got a Geissele MK8 rail and a Trijicon MRO optic, right? Solid choice.”

Soap blinked, a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to know her stuff. “You know your weapons, lass.”

She ducked her head shyly. “I’ve done a lot of research. For my book. I’m a writer,” she explained. “I do all this research on military operations and firearms because I want my novel to be as accurate as possible… but I don’t actually shoot. I just like knowing how it all works.”

Gaz, who had been cleaning his own weapon nearby, raised an eyebrow. “So, you know all this stuff, but you’ve never fired a gun?”

Y/n shrugged, feeling embarrassed. “I prefer the research. Watching someone else handle a weapon is more interesting to me than pulling the trigger.”

Price, who had been listening from his spot by the window, chuckled. “That’s a first. Most people who know this much can’t wait to get their hands on the trigger.”

Y/n smiled nervously. “I just… like the mechanics, how everything fits together. It’s fascinating.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the tension easing. Soap watched her with a thoughtful grin, noting how her eyes sparkled when she spoke about weapons. He leaned in a little closer. “Yer somethin’ special, Y/n. No shame in that.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Soap’s playful charm was almost as dangerous as his gun skills.

Ghost, who had been standing silently nearby, finally spoke up. “Knowing is just as important as shooting. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Y/n looked up, surprised at his words. For a man who rarely spoke, his approval felt oddly reassuring.

Over the next few days, Y/n became an unexpected asset to the team. While she stayed far away from the firefights, her knowledge of weapons proved invaluable. When Gaz needed help adjusting his L85, Y/n suggested modifications that improved its handling. Even Price asked her for input on some of their loadouts.

“You ever think about joining the service?” Gaz asked one evening, adjusting his optic according to Y/n’s recommendations.

Y/n shook her head, laughing nervously. “No, definitely not. I’m just a writer. I like researching and imagining how things play out in stories.”

Gaz smiled. “Well, you’ve got a good eye, at least. Could’ve fooled me into thinking you were a professional.”

Y/n flushed with embarrassment, but a part of her felt proud. Being recognized for her knowledge was a new experience, and it felt… nice.

Soap had been watching them from across the room, his gaze lingering on Y/n a bit longer than usual. There was something endearing about her shy, awkward manner, and the way she came alive when talking about guns. He’d never met anyone quite like her.

“Oi, lass,” Soap called, walking over and resting a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we grab some food after this? We’ve got time to kill.”

Y/n blinked up at him, surprised by the invitation. “Um… sure?”

His grin widened. “Good. I’ll even let you pick my brain about my rifle mods. Bet you’ve got some ideas.”

Y/n’s stomach fluttered. Was this Soap’s way of… flirting? She wasn’t sure, but the prospect of spending more time with him made her nerves buzz with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

As the team prepared for their next mission, Soap handed Y/n his rifle again, grinning as she took it into her hands.

“Take care of her for me while we’re gone,” he said softly, his tone more serious than usual.

Y/n nodded. “I will. Be careful, Soap.”

“Careful is my middle name, lass,” he replied, his smile softening as he glanced down at her. “And don’t miss me too much, aye?”

Y/n bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. “No promises.”

Price gave Soap a knowing look as they geared up. “Keep your head on straight, Sergeant.”

“Always do, sir,” Soap replied with a wink, though he couldn’t help the quick glance he shot Y/n’s way.

Ghost, watching the exchange in silence, pulled Y/n aside before they left. “You’ve got their attention,” he said quietly, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “But just so you know… we’re all watching out for you, too.”

Y/n looked up at Ghost, her heart fluttering. “Thank you, Ghost. I… appreciate it.”

Ghost gave her a small nod before rejoining the team. There was something almost protective in the way he spoke to her, and it left Y/n feeling a little less alone. Maybe it was more than just professional concern… she wasn’t sure.

When they returned, the 141 arrived to find their little civilian surrounded by sketches and pages on Soap's weapon of choice, crumpled ideas filling a small trash bin off to the side.

Soap raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You weren’t kiddin’, were ya? What’ve you got for me?”

Y/n hesitated for a moment before handing over the notebook. “Just some ideas… I thought the balance might be improved with a different stock. And maybe try swapping the optic for one with better peripheral vision…”

Soap whistled low. “You’ve got a sharp eye. I might just try these out.”

Price nodded approvingly as he glanced at the notes. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little armorer here.”

Y/n’s heart swelled at the compliment. “I’m just… happy to help.”

Y/n sat across from Soap, her fingers tracing the outlines of the modifications on his M4. She was shy, but Soap had a way of coaxing her out of her shell. As she explained her thoughts on the mechanics, Soap leaned in a bit closer, his gaze softening as he watched her talk. He wasn’t just listening to her words anymore—he was captivated by her passion.

“Y’know, lass,” Soap said quietly, his Scottish lilt more pronounced as he leaned even closer, “you’re somethin’ else. Never met anyone who could talk about guns like this and make it sound… beautiful.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, and her voice faltered for a moment. Soap wasn’t shy about his interest—there was a hint of playfulness in his smile, but something more genuine in his eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat as she caught his gaze. There was something in his eyes—something soft, affectionate even. And for a moment, Y/n wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this connection than just professional respect.

Gaz noticed the exchange, nudging Soap with a knowing grin. “Careful, mate. Looks like someone’s got their sights set on you.”

Soap chuckled, his eyes still on Y/n. “Wouldn’t mind if she did.”

Y/n found herself spending more time with Gaz as he tinkered with his weapons. He appreciated her insights and enjoyed the quiet moments they shared as she worked beside him.

Gaz would often lean in just a little too close, their shoulders brushing, or he’d offer her a smile that lingered just a bit too long. One evening, as they worked on his rifle together, Gaz’s hand accidentally brushed against hers. Instead of pulling away, he let his fingers linger, his warm touch sending a tingle through her skin.

“You’re really somethin’, Y/n,” he murmured softly. “Don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. There was a warmth in his gaze that made her feel safe… and something more.

Soap had been openly playful with Y/n, but Ghost had always been more guarded. Still, Y/n couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes followed her when he thought no one was looking, or how he’d linger near her after missions, checking in on her quietly. One evening, when the team returned from a particularly rough mission, Ghost approached Y/n while the others celebrated. He didn’t say much, but his presence alone was enough to make her heart race.

“You did good today,” Ghost said in that deep, gravelly voice of his. “You’ve been lookin’ after us. Makes me want to do the same for you.”

Y/n looked up at him, surprised by the gentleness in his tone. For a man who rarely showed emotion, Ghost’s words felt like a confession of sorts.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I… I feel the same.”

Ghost’s hand brushed her arm—just a brief touch, but enough to send a shiver through her. There was something protective in the way he hovered nearby, as though he was guarding more than just the team’s safety.

As the team geared up for their next mission, Y/n found herself spending time with Price. The captain had always been a calming presence, his steady demeanor keeping her grounded when things got overwhelming. He’d started inviting her to have tea with him during quiet moments between missions, and Y/n found comfort in those simple, peaceful interactions.

One evening, after a particularly stressful day, Price handed her a cup of tea, his fingers brushing against hers as she took it. His touch lingered, and Y/n looked up, catching the warmth in his eyes.

“Can’t say I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Y/n,” Price said softly. “You’ve got a sharp mind, a good heart… and I reckon there’s not a man in this team who doesn’t see it.”

Y/n blushed, her heart fluttering as Price’s words settled over her. He was always so composed, so calm, but there was a hint of something more in his gaze tonight.

“I… I’ve never met anyone like you either, Captain,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Price’s hand found hers, his thumb brushing across her knuckles in a tender gesture. “John,” he corrected gently. “Call me John.”

The bonds between Y/n and the members of Task Force 141 had been growing stronger every day, but as time passed, the affection each man held for her became undeniable. They had all noticed the way they each gravitated toward her—the protective glances, the subtle touches, the playful teasing that always ended with Y/n blushing. None of them felt jealousy; instead, they shared a sense of understanding that their love for her wasn’t something that needed to be exclusive.

One evening, after another long day of planning and preparation, the team sat around a campfire, Y/n nestled comfortably between them. Ghost sat beside her, his large hand resting gently on her thigh, while Soap leaned against her shoulder, his arm draped around her waist. Gaz sat across from them, his gaze warm as he watched her, and Price, always calm and collected, looked at her with a fondness that had grown over time.

Y/n felt the tension in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if they were all waiting for something to be said, some unspoken truth to be acknowledged. Finally, Soap was the one to break the silence.

“Lass,” he began, his voice unusually soft, “we’ve all been dancin’ around this for a while now. It’s clear we all care about you—more than just mates, if you know what I mean.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked around the fire, meeting each man’s gaze in turn. They were all watching her, waiting for her response, but there was no pressure in their eyes. Only love and patience.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly. “I… I care about all of you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But how… I mean, is this even possible?”

Price smiled, the kind of smile that always put her at ease. “It’s possible if we make it so,” he said gently. “We’ve all had a talk, and none of us want to hold you back or keep you from anyone else. If this is what you want, we’ll figure it out together.”

Ghost’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, his gaze dark and protective. “We’ll take care of you, Y/n,” he murmured. “All of us.”

Gaz nodded, his usual playful demeanor softened by the seriousness of the moment. “You don’t have to choose between us. We’re in this together, yeah?”

Tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes, but they weren’t from sadness or confusion—they were from relief. She had never imagined that the people she had grown so close to could share their love so openly, without jealousy or resentment. It was a kind of love she had never known, but one she had always craved.

“I… I want this,” she said finally, her voice stronger now. “I want all of you.”

As time went on, the team found their rhythm. They took turns spending time with Y/n—sometimes individually, sometimes together. There was no need for jealousy or competition, because they all knew that Y/n loved them equally, and they loved both her and each other in return. The dynamic was based on mutual respect, love, and understanding.

When they were on missions, they worked seamlessly together, their bond only strengthening their performance in the field. Back at base, they shared moments of intimacy and laughter, knowing that their love for Y/n—and for each other—was something rare and beautiful.

Y/n had never felt so loved or accepted. Each of them brought something different to her life, and together, they completed her in ways she had never imagined possible. And in return, she gave them her heart, her trust, and her love—knowing that, together, they were unstoppable.

[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy part one ( jake seresin x reader )

SUMMARY: The dagger squad all were wondering who the mysterious figure was in one of the rooms in the base only to discover to bradley's explaining it was pete maverick mitchell's  kid  with out seeing them fully before leaving jake makes a comment he will in future regret .  y/n doesn't let the man off light with the comment either . 

warning : enemies to lovers kinda , straight up self indulgent writing so soz slight comedic feel although that just my opinion ( sorry) 

They gather in a curious bundle , looking in a the figure Head down on table large hood covering everything from head up as they tried to figure who it was that was well they hope was a sleep since the said figure hasn't moved .

" you sure they're alive they literally haven't moved in what ten minutes or more" one whispered.

" they allowed to be in here i mean what if its a civilian" another gulped.

" i mean they could be a bum" the tall blonde mused.

" hey what you standing around for" roosters head tilted looking at his squad members.

" there's a possible dead bum or civilian in there or dead civilian bum" fanboy looked into the room eye widening at such a possibility. Only bradley knew , his lips twitched in amusement at his friends assumption .

" nah that just mavs kid , must of fell asleep waiting" he explained as they looked more.

" jesus who would of thought mavs offspring would be flumpy there" jake grimaced .

" flumpy what are you twelve" phoenix rolled her eyes only for the figure to scoff.

" cyclone is looking for you bagman" rooster cleared his throat remembering why he was there in first place .

"Course he is needs a real man's help huh , see yall , bye flumpy" he called loudly as the figure head started to rise .

A quick nod to Pete as he passed yet their eyes all focused as the figure yawned and stretched out . Pulling the hood down to reveal the figure was a woman , a beautiful woman at that.

" hey kiddo sorry I got held up you ready" Mav smiled as she stood stretching aching muscle .

" ready as i'll ever be plus don't worry about it i got some z's"she smiled only seeing a group of new faces well not exactly new but in person new. " oh shit did you guys need the room , bradshaw you told me it was free" she glared at the man a comical sight giving their size difference.

" pretty girl you should of just went back to my place if you were tired... not like that you filthy people she like a sister to me" .

" i wouldn't be so tired if i had slept on way here but no someone a singing driver , i wanted to kick you in your great balls of fire" she grumbled.

" stop being so mean i gave you my hoody when you were cold little shit" he shot back .

" do i need to put you kids in time out" mav asked.

" you going hard deck tonight" bradley rolled his eyes.

" nah i need to unpack and sleep more" .

" she coming beach tomorrow since she's our new mechanic get to know you all" mav spoke up ignoring the glare she sent his way.

" beach tomorrow apparently also hi i'm Y/N" She turned holding her hand out to the group as the boys started pushing each other to be the one shake her hand only in their antic phoenix got in there .

" natasha trace but you can call me nat or phoenix" she smiled proudly getting their first.

"Well nice to meet you i already know who you all are from the glowing reviews i got from the two old men there" she chuckled shaking their hands.

" so where were stationed before here?" fanboy bashful spoke up goofy grin as she looked at him.

" oh i'm not in any form of military i got clearance and a civilian contract life of a navy nepo baby" . " come on we show her around the hangar" mav called all following behind .

She didn't need to see the hangar not when she been in it a billion times before during her childhood . following in the footstep of her mom charlie blackwood being a civilian contractor was a little surreal maybe because rooster was also there it was like they were the new generation . both legendary parents but she couldn't take the extra steps trying to be in her dad's shadow,that would of never worked although it seemed anything that could fly was a great love must of been genetics in this case.

" well as i live and breathe y/n it good to have you on board" she turned to see admiral beau simpson sauntering over towards her .

" admiral nice to see you again" she nodded politely not little how the man was looking at her .

" pleasure is all mine sweetheart if i'd known you'd be here i would of gave you the private tour" he almost purred as her own face scrunched up.

" i got her plus i need her check out phoenix jet for the test runs on monday so she's a little busy at the moment admiral" pete mitchell stood in front of her easily also not liking the way the older man was looking at his daughter.

" phoenix could you show me the way please oh admiral tell that darling wife of yours i say hi" she walked of linking arms with the female aviator .

" would that be all sir" rooster asked . " yes erm i forgot i got a meeting , rooster i got hangman in the end" he said making a slightly quicker exit.

" so what's the problem or did my dad make it up" she asked looking at the jet itching to get working .

" sort of shaky on the landing and steering is a bit stiff it can wait til monday really i think your dad just used.. And she gone" she watched the new woman in the hanger climbing up to assess everything out.

" i shouldn't of said anything" mav laughed knowing what his daughter was like.

" roo here" she called pulling the hoodie off only to hear metal clanging . " oh this place never changes" she shook her head seeing the men looking at her in awe.

It seemed as though everyone in the base had a reason to be in the hanger that morning , some excuses were almost believable others not so much when a recruit handed rooster a stapler insisting they needed it for any reason .

" nice to have a fellow female in her really was being a meat fest and don't even getting started on the pissing contest some of these guys can have"nat called .

" definitely hasn't change" y/n shook her head . " i mean between rooster and hangmans ego's then moment their on the ground best friends it's whiplash at best" .

" hangman? Blonde guy wonder if he's the one that called me flumpy" she mused with a giggle .

" you heard that huh?" .

" loud and clear what an asshole" she checking thing over before moving on to next part.

" i'm sure he'll take it back when he see's you" nat whispered almost reveling to see hangman's reaction to it all .

" hey need help" the guys called.

" nope it's all good i'm actually finished but thank you" she climbed down covered in grease and oil but she didn't mind .

" please come the hard deck so i can get you drink fixing my baby" nat smiled hopefully.

" no can do i need a shower , nap and unpack but i will see you all at beach tomorrow right" she asked all nodding away eagerly.

" you ever play dogfight football" bob asked slightly surprised at his own bravery to talk to the pretty lady .

" oh i'm not even attempting to play that i got a book with my name on it while you guys get all sweaty also stealing nat so i'm not on my own" she smirked .

" i'm fine with that" nat high fived her whilst sticking her tongue out at the others .

"come on you we get you home" maverick lead her out.

" no one tell hangman" was all nat said once they were gone all silently agreeing wanting to see hangman's reaction to the real flumpy .

The moment he stepped on base all he heard was his fellow officers gossiping like little girls usually he would of rolled his eyes and scoffed at the immaturity but jake seresin was always a sucker for pretty face and now he was full fledged curious .

" i think she'll be at hard deck i hope she is" he heard passing by yale . smiling like cat got the cream knowing it was no contest to who was going to get the girl .

" well look who finally showed his face , mav just left that long ago needing to drop his kid home" nat said almost too sweetly although his mind was elsewhere.

" great flumpy's gone anyways you guys heard or seen the smoke show , how true to the scale is she hot" he asked .

" lava like burn through anything hot" Javy spilled out as rooster tried not to react .

" well i guess i'll know later when i'm buying her a drink tonight i'll let you know how hot she is tomorrow though" he winked heading into the locker rooms.

" who's gonna break it to him" payback asked.

" no one dare say a word think of it as my christmas present" nat rubbed her hands together all heading to get changed and ready to have a few drinks after long day .

It was safe to say jake was annoyed the next morning , the mysterious hotty never showed at the bar so he couldn't brag like he wanted which in turn had the gang busting his balls for the forward assumption . it didn't help they were doing it all way to the beach or when he was helping set up the table for the food that was coming but he also had to listen to hear how cool mavericks offspring was maybe he was wrong about the dude or whatever then he start thinking flumpy was why the hot girl was there since they both showed up on same day which irritated him a little more then he cared to think . when he saw the hottest girl he'd ever seen like show stopping hot walk on the beach maybe he could get over the whole thing by getting her. He wasn't going to just go over no he pretend to throw rooster the ball only for it to land right near the woman . " don't worry i'll get it" he winked and strolled over so cocky and confident . sunglasses hid how his eyes raked over her the sundress that hugged her body like a damn glove , like it was made for her and her only . how her hair flowed messily down her back or how it fell to the front as she picked up the ball . " sorry ma'am my friend there can't seem to catch a ball" he stood a little taller , tensed his muscle a little knowing the ladies loved it. She looked over at rooster eyebrows raised before throwing the ball to him.

" looks like he's not so bad at all" she said walking with her towel under her arms ready to set it up .

" or maybe he wanted to impress you" jake followed .

" or you got a shit throw" she said placing her things down placing the towel on the warm sand before pulling the sundress over her head to reveal the red bikini that sat under it .

" hey kid you wanna help penny carry down the food before you get all comfortable" mav called

. " sure thing old man" she walked off leaving jake coming to a horrible realisation.

" was that?" he asked his fellow squad members.

" flumpy" the all called back" with shit eating grins .

"oh and hangman she heard you say it" nat cackled as his face completely dropped .

With the bragging right now and truly down the toilet giving as she wouldn't even look so much as his direction although . hell it seemed baby on board was in with more of a shot then he was. He was also now a fan of don't judge the book without fully seen cover that was his first mistake. Damn the cover was just his style that was for sure.

" just give up hangman , she not into you , you've ruined your chance" payback smirked as they began loading their plates .

" oh don't you worry boys i will have her eating out palm of hand and sweating for more" he laughed only they we're not laughing .

" man shh" javy whispered eyes darting behind the texan.

" what you know it i will have her riding me like a bull at a rodeo by the nights end" only instead of continuing a clearing of a throat .

" excuse me" she pushed past loading her own plate.

" darling how much of that did you hear" he winced .

" enough you tell you that i'd rather starve then eat from palm of your hand and walk to china the ride in your rodeo cowboy" she scoffed walking off sitting down on her towel picking up her book and completely ignoring the fact that jake seresin existed . which only to his torture while he was playing pool she was chatting away to some of the guys at the bar. He watched as the fawned and flirted with her , dropping their best lines while she let them think she was lapping it up , oh she was good he would give her that.

" your not gonna give up are you" coyote asked .

" not by long shot" jake smirked potting his winning ball . 

Part two

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 180 }

autobiography.

fan!sung jinwoo x author!fem.reader

{ got stains on my t-shirt and i'm the biggest flirt | right now i'm solo, but that will be changing eventually, oh | got bruises on my heart and sometimes i get dark | if you want my auto, want my autobiography | baby, just ask me... }

anonymous said: Brainrot of my day: Imagine an author Reader and Booknerd Jinwoo, when he was still an E rank hunter he liked to read her work lot and when he became a well known hunter she was inspired by him to make a biography about him so she reaches out and imagine how flattered he was when she reached out! His favorite author wanting to make a biography. About him?? EEEEEE

you were absolutely fascinated with the seemingly sudden cinderella story that took the form of a new and upcoming hunter that went by the name sung jinwoo.

with your reading glasses settled across your eyes, you did some extensive research on jinwoo and ran across various news articles detailing all of his latest successes and raids. your hands itched with the desire to open a fresh document and draft everything that you knew about him so far-

ah, but you were getting ahead of yourself.

being a well-known author, you have written a plethora of novels since your early 20s, even managing to reach the bestseller's list quite a few times as well. your face was plastered against the back covers of each novel that you published, and the fans that you had would always recognize you immediately, taking photos with you or asking if you could sign a copy of your novels for them.

you were a mere civilian, but you were incredibly happy that your passion for writing helped give you somewhat of a celebrity status. your name wasn't as well-known as the hunters surrounding the world, but in your opinion, you were known enough by the right amount of people.

as you read through each article and watched the videos that featured south korea's latest, s-rank hunter, you had the desire to somehow reach out to jinwoo himself.

after all, biographies were written with the sole purpose of celebrating that person's life-

so long as you had that person's permission.

you lean back in your seat, grabbing the cup of coffee from your desk as you took a sip of it whilst deep in thought. with your fingertips hovered over the keys once more, you type in the website for the korean hunter's association branch, searching through the site until you reached a section that read most notable hunters.

clicking on the link, you scroll down until you see jinwoo's name. you open up jinwoo's profile and keep scrolling down until you saw his contact information, noticing his email address:

sung.jinwoo@kha.com

cracking your knuckles, you open your email account and begin typing out your message to the hunter you were desperate to write about.

{ ... }

from: rainedinwriter@kmail.com

to: sung.jinwoo@kha.com

subject: would you like a biography written about you?

hello! you may know me as the author of some books, most notably true blue and the aurora syndrome (and if you've never read any of my books, that's okay too!)

long story short, i'm an author and would like your permission to come and meet with you- maybe even interview you and write a biography about you? i am truly so awed by your story and would love to learn more about you!

reply back when you can-

(i really hope you'll agree to meet me!)

signing off~

{ ... }

"HOLY SHIT THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO ME!"

before sung jinwoo could further bask in this unexpected email that he had received, jinho bursts into his office, panic written all over his features as he calls out to him.

"boss, are you alright?! what happened?!"

he could feel the heat traveling up his neck and upwards towards his ears, making jinwoo force a smile when he waves off jinho's concern all while trying to maintain a neutral face. "oh, it's nothing, ah... my favorite soccer team just scored another win and i got really excited."

jinho gives jinwoo a look of suspicion, not quite believing him. however, not one to question his president, jinho shrugs before leaving the office.

"let me know if you need anything, boss, i'll be around."

giving jinho one last (albeit stiff) nod, the hunter waits with bated breath for his vice president to leave before letting out a shaky breath.

"holy shit."

to say jinwoo was freaking out would be the understatement of the century. jinwoo's favorite author of all times had reached out to him (him!) with desires to write a biography about him.

his mind was spinning, and he actually had a copy of the aurora syndrome with him right now. jinwoo adored your stories, but the aurora syndrome held a special place in his heart. in the novel, the protagonist was a young adult who suffered from narcolepsy, and it spoke about their day to day life while dealing with such a disorder.

in many ways, jinwoo could relate to that protagonist (especially during the time where he was still labeled as the weakest hunter in the world), since they were known to be self-conscious and meek, but was slowly able to come out of their shell thanks to the support of their family and friends.

and the same author of such an amazing novel (aka YOU) wished to write a book about him?!

the young hunter's head couldn't stop spinning. he kept pacing around his office, pinching himself every so often to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.

after reading (and rereading) your email at least a hundred times, jinwoo's hands begin to tremble when he goes back to his desktop pc. fingertips trained over the keyboard, he begins typing out his reply to you-

(a feat that ends up taking an hour or so due to the sheer amount of times he had to write and rewrite the same message over and over again to make sure that it was perfect for you.)

{ ... }

from: sung.jinwoo@kha.com

to: rainedinwriter@kmail.com

REPLY: would you like a biography written about you?

i am honestly so honored to have you writing a biography about me!

my story isn't much, just a series of events that just proves how lucky i am.

i've taken some time off for you and your interviews, is 2 weeks enough?

reply back when you're able to... and let me know if my arrangements work well for you.

sincerely,

sung jinwoo

{ ... }

you were pleasantly surprised when jinwoo got back to you within mere hours of receiving your email. due to his quick rise in fame, you thought that you would be left on read for at least a month or so.

"hm, perhaps sung jinwoo is more down-to-earth than i expected?"

a strange warmth fills you at the thought, and you truly were grateful to jinwoo for taking the time out of his day to get back to you so quickly.

just as you were going to send another email to talk further about the details, you receive yet another new email notification from jinwoo. curious as to what he sent, you open up his email and felt your eyes going wide in response.

xxx xxx - xxxx | sung jinwoo

call me?

now this was new. were you overthinking things, or was jinwoo actually eager to speak to you?

you shake your head at the thought, feeling a bit flabbergasted yourself. not wanting to squander this amazing opportunity, you take out your cellphone and type in the numbers seen on the screen. with your heart was racing in anticipation, you let out a deep breath before calling the hunter directly.

the other line rings a few times and you were pleasantly surprised to hear jinwoo pick up the phone on its second ring.

"h-hello?" you were dimly aware of the sounds of shuffling on the other end, clearing your throat as you began your end of the conversation.

smiling into the phone, you introduce yourself by full name, "thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure of doing this- ah, of calling you, i mean."

"oh, y-yeah, it's no problem at all!" a series of nervous, high-pitched laughter was heard coming from the other end. "s-sorry for acting w-weird but, i never expected my favorite author to contact me about their desire to write my b-biography."

the warmth seems to spread throughout your body upon hearing his admission. "what? are you kidding me? who wouldn't want to write a biography about you! your story is amazing, mr. sung!"

"jinwoo." his grave voice catches you off guard momentarily.

"ah, wait a minute... you're actually allowing me to call you by your first name?"

"i don't see why not, b-because i assure you, i've admired you for far longer than you have admired me. your novels have truly changed my life."

you felt your smile widen as you continued speaking to him, "and may i ask what books of mine that you have read?"

jinwoo's voice becomes a bit more passionate now, and you listen to him rant about every single novel you had written thus far, a fact that made your cheeks feel warm as an even wider grin spreads across your face.

sung jinwoo had to be your number one fan.

"well mr- i mean, jinwoo, you have just made my day! actually, since you've pretty much read all of my novels, you must know that your biography will be my first time writing a non-fictional story?"

"of course, that's why i can't stop my heart from pounding with excitement. i've always loved you- i mean, your work."

he seems to have realized his slip up, quickly covering it up so that you would not mention it when he asks you if you agreed to spend the next two weeks with him, making you do another yet another double take.

"whoa, seriously? you're letting me meet with you so soon?"

jinwoo's rich chuckle fills you, "of course. knock on wood, but things have been pretty safe lately, with only low level gates appearing. if anything major comes up during the two weeks you are in seoul with me, i can always ask the other s-ranked hunters to deal with it. so are you in?"

truly, who were you to reject such a generous offer?

{ ... }

perhaps jinwoo was a little too excited to see you.

despite all your protests about having him buy you the plane tickets to get to seoul, he did it anyways. he paid for you to have a first class flight while making sure he would be sent updates to where you were at all times.

but he really couldn't help how he felt.

when he was at the lowest point in his life (being labeled as the weakest in the world with his father missing and his mother in a coma, all while his sister was relying on him), jinwoo found great comfort within your novels. he could relate to each protagonist on a personal level, and he had longed wished to meet the writer behind these wonderful stories-

he had longed to meet you.

so it was no surprise that he didn't sleep much during the hours leading up to your arrival.

it was no surprise that your picture plastered in the back of each novel was an image that he burned within his mind.

and it was certainly no surprise that he would become infatuated with you after hearing your voice and catching a glimpse of your personality during your phone call.

so when your plane lands in seoul's main airport at 3am, jinwoo was the first to arrive with his trademark van, holding up a sign that had your name written on it as he waited for you within the airport lobby.

jinwoo kept pacing around the airport, waiting for you at the gate you were meant to come out of. he was close to sending the several, panicked emails to the airlines he had booked tickets for had it not been for your sudden appearance. as you step out of the gate, he recognizes your side profile, feeling his heart begin skipping beats the closer you got to him.

you had a tired and confused expression on your face, with a single luggage in hand as you searched around for him. however, thanks to his height, you saw him almost immediately. a smile paints your features as you walk up to jinwoo to meet him.

"hello jinwoo, thank you so much for picking me up, a-and for booking the ticket for me to come here."

jinwoo could feel his throat turn dry at the mere sight of you because dear god, were you so much prettier in real life than in your photos.

{ ... }

you tilt your head at jinwoo, holding your luggage in one hand as you wave your free hand across his face. for some odd reason, jinwoo appeared to be captivated, not saying a word despite how you had stood in front of him for a total of 5 minutes now.

"jinwoo?"

as if finally hearing your voice, jinwoo snaps out of it, with you watching as he runs a hand across his hair while a light pink blush was seen spreading across his cheeks. he smiles down at you before wrapping his arms around your back, bringing you closer to his chest in a warm embrace.

"hey, i'm glad you made it here safe."

you hum in response, basking in the gentle but minty sweet scent of his cologne wafting off of his suit. you awkwardly return his embrace with one hand before looking up at him. "so, where to now?"

"well, you're going back to my place, of course." jinwoo takes a hold of your luggage before walking out of the airport, giving you little choice but to follow him.

"w-wait, that won't be necessary! i had every intention of staying at a hotel for the next two weeks! i don't wish to intrude on you-"

jinwoo stops walking, facing you fully with glowing eyes. they appeared to be translucent blue in hue as he places a hand beneath your chin. "please, i insist that you stay with me. you're still my guest, and it would pain me to see you spending a single cent while you're with me."

the familiar heat was felt returning to your cheeks. it was clear that jinwoo exuded a high amount of charm, and from the way his kind gaze was practically begging you to allow him to do this for you, you found that you lost the will to protest against him.

"well, if it's alright with you, then i thank you."

when jinwoo ends up patting your head / ruffling your hair, you felt the warmth simply deepen, allowing him to gently take a hold of your hand as you both left the airport together.

{ ... }

for once in his life, jinwoo was glad that he bought a separate apartment to crash in when he had to spend late nights at his guild.

because if he had allowed you to stay within the same space as his mother and little sister, they would never keep his 'crush' on you a secret (especially jinah).

after a 30 minute ride where he exchanged small talk and usual pleasantries with you, he takes you back to his 'work' apartment and invites you inside. despite the riches he has earned during his raids, jinwoo still chose to live a relatively modest lifestyle, renting out a two bedroom apartment that wasn't too small, nor too big.

he shows you the spare bedroom and points at the bathroom settled in the hallway, reassuring you that you could make yourself at home and alert him if you needed anything. you respond with your usual kind smile, and jinwoo leaves you alone to get unpacked.

knowing that you were probably starving after such a long flight, jinwoo heads into his kitchen to cook a delicious meal consisting of hotpot and ramyun noodles. he works on cutting up all the meats, seafood, and various vegetables while heating up the broth in the middle of his dining room table.

despite knowing how he wouldn't have much of an appetite while in your presence, jinwoo still wanted to cook some hearty for you (just in case). as he was finishing up the hotpot, he sees your figure inching closer to the dining room.

"wow, it smells so good, jinwoo. you're also a good cook?"

"absolutely yes."

you giggle in response, "well, i guess i'll just have to dedicate a whole chapter of your biography to how much of an amazing cook you are!"

he gives you a grin while gesturing at you to have a seat. with all the bowls and utensils surrounding the table, he beckons at you to dig in first. "i'm gonna grab us some sodas to enjoy, so you go ahead and start first."

"ah, are you sure?"

"absolutely! go on and don't be shy." he feels the butterflies taking over his abdomen, getting out some cans of soda before sitting across from you. as you begin eating, jinwoo felt a surge of pride swelling inside of him when you tell him how wonderful everything tasted.

he replies to your genuine compliments with a tiny 'thank you,' starting to eat as well, all while sneaking glances at you.

{ ... }

the following days spent with jinwoo kind of felt like a dream, if you were to be honest with yourself.

and it made you wonder, did all celebrities act like this toward the authors who wished to write their biographies?

deep down, you knew the answer to that question as being no-

that this was a special case between you and jinwoo.

as you interviewed him and asked about his life, he would take some time out of his day to treat you to various things. from eating out at expensive restaurants, to playing around and having fun at the local amusement park-

this felt more like going on dates than just work on your end.

and admittedly, you were having a lot of fun with him. not a single day went by where you didn't feel the excitement coursing through your veins. you ended up enjoying jinwoo's company so much that you felt almost a sense of sadness coursing through you at the thought of going back home and leaving him.

however, during your last night here in seoul, you pushed aside such pesky emotions and began writing out a draft of his biography. you knew that once you started your writing process, then you would not stop-

which is perfect for when you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep.

the door to the spare bedroom was closed as you hoped that it would muffle the incessant sounds of you typing away on your laptop. the last thing you wanted was to disturb jinwoo's sleep when you had every intention to pull an all-nighter writing the beginning chapters of jinwoo's biography.

after writing a few paragraphs, you stop typing to admire your work so far:

sung jinwoo is a 24 year old young man born on march 8, xxxx to his mother, park kyung-hye, and father, sung il-hwan. he spent most of his childhood living a relatively normal life with his parents and little sister, jinah. despite his seemingly normal upbringing, sung has faced many tragedies that left a permanent mark on his life. from the sudden disappearance of his father, to his mother falling into a deep coma due to the eternal slumber disease, he was left with the heavy responsibilities of caring for his seemingly broken family. but this biography is not a tragedy; in fact, the words written within the pages of this novel will be a testament to sung jinwoo's strength as he changes from the world's weakest hunter to the world's strongest hunter through a series of fated events...

a sudden knock heard at your door breaks you out of your read-through of the first few paragraphs that you have written.

"come in."

upon receiving your permission, jinwoo steps into the room with an unreadable expression on his face. there was a deep emotion settled within his eyes, and you wondered if something was bothering him.

"hey, you're still awake? are you okay?"

jinwoo's head was bowed to you, and you hear him murmur something.

"i'm sorry, jinwoo, but i didn't quite catch what you just said. can you repeat yourself?"

the young man begins to tremble when he speaks once more, this time clearer than before. "please stay with me."

your eyes go wide when jinwoo swiftly joins you on your bed, taking you in his arms when he suddenly presses his lips against yours in a kiss filled with desperation. you let out a surprised gasp, allowing jinwoo to take advantage of your parted lips as he dips his tongue within the confines of your mouth.

jinwoo greedily explores your taste, falling into bed with you as your back lands against the mattress. your heart was set aflame thanks to his kiss, and you could no longer deny the way it sang for him each time he was near. with your eyes clenched shut, you shyly return his kiss, allowing him to deepen it as he kept your head still with his large hands.

when the need for air proved to be too much, you and jinwoo both reluctantly pull away from each other, your eyes both hazy with the adoration you felt for one another. as you met with jinwoo's passionate, grey eyes, you watch as he leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips.

"i'm sorry, but you need to know that... i've been half in love with you for a long time now. ever since i read your debut novel, i was hooked on you."

while he confesses to you, jinwoo brings you into his embrace, allowing you to settle yourself on his lap as he brushes his lips against your forehead. "i understood and found bits and pieces of myself in each and every protagonist you wrote about, and with each new novel that i read by you, the more i felt my admiration and crush for you morph into something else entirely- something much deeper and more meaningful."

you remain silent throughout it all, feeling overwhelmed as you listened to each and every one of jinwoo's words. he frames at your face, eyes now filled with unbidden love for you, "to make a long story a lot shorter, when i got stronger and managed to become an s-rank, all i could think about was how this made it easier for me to potentially meet you someday."

"so when you reached out to me first, eager to know about my life because of how i became stronger... i knew i couldn't let this chance go."

he smiles at you, taking in your wide eyes and the way you parted your lips in such a cute manner. with a sigh of your name, jinwoo kisses you once more. "i thought i'd be happy, simply spending two weeks alone with you, but i've quickly come to realize that two weeks just isn't enough."

despite how fast your heart was racing, you could feel the grin gracing your features as you nuzzled the tip of your nose against jinwoo's. "oh? and if two weeks isn't enough, how many days would i need to spend with you for it to be enough for you?"

a smirk was settled on jinwoo's handsome face, "honestly, i could have you for a lifetime and it still wouldn't be enough for me."

feeling your fondness for jinwoo also morph into something more powerful, you found that you were unable to say no to his gentle demands, becoming oh so captivated by his eyes as you land against his chest with a smile.

"i guess i may need to apply for some type of visa in order to stay here with you in a more permanent sense."

jinwoo chuckles while tightening his arms around your frame, filled with joy at what was to come-

but little did you know, so long as you agreed to marry him by the end of this year, then you would have no problems remaining forever by his side; he'd make sure of it ♡

a.n. - and with this story, it will be my last one before i start my rotations tomorrow for school! my updates will be semi-active, but i will be kept busy with various assignments 🥹 i just hope that you readers remain patient with me if it does take me a minute to update with new jinwoo stories!

this is currently unedited, but i'll make any changes once this is posted! until then, i hope you readers enjoy reading this!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Dani A(Clone)

**An Arctic Siren Aside**

***Thank y'all for 200 followers!! I look forward to getting to know y'all!***

Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow of Star City, was not easy to startle. He went through too much training, too much pain to not be on the alert all the time. Letting out a breath, he shot his arrow, hitting his far away target with an ease that he was familiar with after so many years.

“Wow, Mister, you sure have good aim!”

Oliver Queen, when startled, screamed like a goat. He spun, looking for an enemy, but instead was met with the curious face of a young girl sitting on the ground behind him, leaning her chin on her fist.

Oliver took a moment to recollect himself.

“Hello, young miss. Can I help you?”

The girl tilted her head.

“I’m looking for my brother. Are you a hero?”

Nodding, Oliver pointed to his bow with the hand not holding it.

“I’m the Green Arrow.”

She didn’t seem impressed.

“Tell me more about your brother? Is he older? Younger? What’s his name?”

“Stranger danger, what’s your name?”

Oliver paused.

“Green Arrow.”

“His name’s John, in that case. John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith.”

“John?”

“His name is my name too.”

By the glint in the girl’s eyes, Oliver was being pranked somehow and neither child was named John. He tried a different approach.

“What does your brother look like?”

“Like me, but a boy.”

Helpful. He knew he was supposed to be kind and gentle with civilian children, but Oliver almost wanted to pick this girl up and shake her until she had useful information.

There was a crunch on the rooftop behind him, and by the sounds it was Arsenal coming to find out what was taking him so long.

“Oh wow, you’re cool!”

The girl bounced up and darted around Oliver to circle Roy, looking him up and down.

“Now there’s a hero! Baseball cap? Clean shaven? Be still my beating heart!”

Oliver’s only solace was that Roy looked about as off-put as he himself was.

“Can I be a hero? My brother’s a hero, we’d find each other that way!”

Roy smiled at the kid.

“Well, it takes a lot to be a hero, you know? What would your hero name be?”

“Phantom, like my brother. And it’s fine! I’ve got powers, see?”

The girl lifted off the ground, hovering, and crossed her legs underneath her to sit in the air.

“I can do some other stuff too, but the flight is the coolest.”

Oliver looked at Roy, who seemed to be seriously thinking about the girl’s proposition.

“Arsenal, you can’t- What about her parents?”

The girl’s float drooped a little.

“They’re… gone. It’s just me and my brother, and I don’t know where he is. I’m from the Infinite Realms, and I can’t get back without him.”

The Infinite Realms sounded like Justice League Dark shit.

“Let me introduce you to the Teen Titans, then. Phantom, right?”

Phantom lit up, and Oliver stared in shock at his teammate.

Batman would be so pissed at him.

~~~

Dick Grayson smiled at the girl in front of him. Damian had convinced him to come meet her, claiming that she was an ‘integral part of the team’, only a few weeks into her tenure with the Titans.

Phantom smiled back, too sharp teeth on display.

“Hello, Phantom. I’m Nightwing, Robin’s brother. How are you today?”

“Stellar, thanks!” She did a little twirl midair. “How are you, Mister Nightwing sir?”

“I’m doing well. I heard that you didn’t allow for a DNA sample? It would make life in the tower much easier if we had your biometrics.”

She scowled, suddenly dropping to the ground and crossing her arms. She was short, for a sixteen-year-old, but Dick was still a little thrown off by the ferocious look on her face.

“Don’t you Gotham folks know when no means no? Consent is sexy and you are not. I’ve met heroes with better etiquette than any of you.”

He held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

“I won’t force you. Who’s your favorite hero?”

Immediately, as if a switch had been flipped, Phantom was up in the air again, grinning like a loon.

“Phantom Prime, of course! My brother is the strongest person I know.”

Kid Flash looked up from where he’d been assembling a puzzle.

“You met Superman the other day, though?”

Phantom scoffed.

“My brother could kick his ass. Ancients, I'd kick his ass if you guys would let me. He deserves an ass-kicking.”

“Why?”

Dick would admit he was just as confused as Kid Flash.

“Vibes.”

“Vibes? What kind of vibes?”

“Fruitloop vibes.”

“That doesn’t make much sense, Phantom.”

“Sure it does! Hey, Superboy!”

~~~

Kon-el startled at being caught listening in to the conversation. He turned to address Phantom from the tower kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“Is Superman’s secret identity rich?”

“Uh, no?”

“Does he have a lair?”

“Kinda?”

“How is he about clones?”

Kon must have made a face, because Phantom pointed at him.

“Ah-ha! Those vibes! Clone hater vibes.”

Stepping out of the kitchen, Kon tried to downplay the issue.

“I mean, he’s gotten better, but…”

“Nope! He’s still an asshole and deserves an ass-kicking.”

Nightwing held up a hand like a kid in a schoolroom.

“You have an opinion about clones?”

Phantom nodded decisively.

“My brother says that clones didn’t ask to be made, just like any other kid. It’s not their fault, it’s the fault of their creator. He says that the sins of the father should not be visited on the sons.”

Kon stepped closer, curious.

“But. Isn’t it a violation? If someone makes a clone without the donor’s knowledge?”

Phantom looked over at him with big, sad eyes.

“My sister says that’s between the donor and the creator. No kid should be painted as the one in the wrong when they were a victim, too.”

Nightwing spoke up again, sounding a little out of his depth.

“You deal with a lot of clones?”

She grinned, and Kon could tell there was a secret behind the twinkle in her eyes.

“One or two.”

~~~

Dani heard a knock on the frame of her open door and turned to greet her visitor. It was getting late- she was pretty surprised that anyone was still awake.

“Hey Superboy! How can I help?”

“Would you-‘ he looked sheepish. ‘Would you really beat up Superman for me?”

She cracked her knuckles. Someone had said that Kon-el was a clone, but she hadn’t really expected him to admit to it. They weren’t even properly teammates- he was part of Young Justice, not Teen Titans.

“I’d beat up anybody to protect the honor of clone-kind, Superboy.”

“Why?”

Making a split second decision, Dani leaned in close.

“Can you keep a secret, Kon-el?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better. Us clones have to stick together, amiright?”

Superboy looked at her, stunned, and she winked.

“Just don’t tell the bats. Batman has both rich and secret lair vibes.”