#I just wished I’d looked where she was before she died

[gendiebrainrotreceipts]

God i miss her so much. I wish I could go back in time and find her before she died. She was so young

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable X - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: smut and fluff, pure fluff 

Author’s note: omfg guyssss, I can’t believe this series has come to an end! I had so much fun writing it and I hope y’all had just as much fun reading it! Thanks for all the love and support you guys have given me throughout it all! Hope this is a fitting ending! 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part X: The Finale 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Are you sure about this?”

You looked at Azriel, at the vulnerability in his warm hazel eyes, at the love and adoration they held but the lingering insecurity dampened it just enough that you turned to him fully. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Azriel,” you whispered, gently. 

“I just don’t want you to feel rushed,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to make this decision before you’re ready. I’ve waited five hundred years for you, I can wait more. I can wait until the sun and moon collide, princess, as long as you’ll be mine in the end.” 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You were standing outside the doors that would lead to the Priestess’ chapel. Just a few steps away from being mated—from being tied together for all of eternity. 

“I’ve waited enough. We’ve waited enough,” you replied. “I want this, Azriel. I want you. I can scream it from the rooftops if you wish. Nothing will change my mind about you.” 

His lips twitched into a smile. “Okay, okay. Then, let’s not keep the Priestess waiting.” 

He pushed open the doors to the chapel, holding them open for you as you strode inside, the small train of your dress trailing behind you as you went. Your mother had sewn you this dress before she died, for this very moment. It was pure white with a long, sheer draping cape covered in silver diamonds. The bodice had a sheer underbust with those same diamonds carefully placed to make a beautiful, intricate pattern. The skirt fell to the floor, shimmering in the faelights of the chapel also covered in diamonds. It was beautiful, truly, and Azriel’s breath had been stolen away the moment he had seen you in it. You looked like the goddess of the moon, herself. 

Your brother, who you allowed to help you get ready since you had decided on a private mating ceremony, had teared up at the sight, himself. Rhysand had given you a loving speech before sending you and Azriel off to your ceremony knowing he wouldn’t see the two of you for at least a few weeks as you would leave immediately after for your mating honeymoon. 

Azriel himself was dressed in all black formal wear, finely made and tailored to his body perfectly. Your mouth had gone dry when he had stepped out of the shadows, his dark hair tousled and looking like a true Angel of Death. The dark side of your moon. 

Standing here now before the Priestess as she read out verses of love and unity, you couldn’t focus on anything but your mate. He stared back at you with the same intensity, his wings held out proudly and his shadows encasing the two of you, swirling around in delight. 

“You may say your vows, now,” the Priestess declared, shutting her book and bringing out the ribbon that was to be tied around your wrists and hands. Azriel held out his hand for you and you took it, holding them up for the Priestess who began to wrap the ribbon around them. 

“I have prayed to the stars every night since the moment I fell in love with you, Azriel, that a day might come where you’d be mine and I’d be yours,” you breathed out. “Despite all that stood between us, the magic that kept you from me all these years, I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant that this was our ending. I will love you until I no longer exist, through death and all that comes after.” 

“There would be no shadow without light,” Azriel whispered, resting his forehead against yours as you stared up at him. “And you have been my light, princess. I live and breathe for you. My body, my soul, my mind, were made to love you and only you. Because you are the light in whose shadows I exist in. You are the guiding star that I will follow until the end of all things. I vow to love and cherish you for all of eternity. Nothing shall keep us apart from this moment on. No magic, no God, no death can separate us. You are mine as I am yours.” 

You blinked the tears in your eyes away as the Priestess finally tied off the ribbon with a smile. “As witness to your love, I bless thee with the sanctity of the Mother and all that is holy. May your love serve as a reminder of the good this world can offer. You may seal your vows with a kiss.” 

And so you did. The kiss Azriel gave you was full of love and passion—a promise to all that he planned to give you. The Priestess held out a small tray with the pastry you had baked for him—a small pear tart that you knew was his favorite sweet treat. She winked as you took it from her before winnowing away to allow you privacy. 

And the Gods knew you’d need it if the heated look Azriel was giving you could be seen from heaven.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You barely made it through the door to the villa the two of you would be staying in for an indefinite amount of time before Azriel’s lips crashed against yours. You met him with the same intensity as he pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his taut body. 

He groaned as you parted your lips for him, allowing him the chance to taste you—to claim your mouth as his. One of his hands stayed against the wall while the other traveled down the length of your body, somehow finding your leg in the mess of your skirt and hooking it around him. 

Still, there were far too many layers between the two of you. Your body was on fire with want, with need. Sparks were igniting in your lower stomach, a terrible ache that only Azriel could soothe was taking over. The mating bond was singing its beautiful tune. 

“Bed,” you managed to mumble out between his kisses. “Now.” 

His shadows encased you once more, taking the two of you to the lush bedroom upstairs. You pushed him towards the bed but he stopped you, pulling away from you as you whined in disapproval. 

“No teasing,” you pouted. 

Azriel grinned. The sight of it was so breathtaking. 

“I assure you, princess, I have no intention other than ravishing you tonight.” 

He twisted you so your back was to him and he gently began to unbutton the bodice of your dress, pressing a kiss each time a new inch of skin was exposed to him. You melted into his delicate touch, allowing him to undress you completely until you were naked before him. 

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he growled against your skin, pressing kisses down the length of your back until he was on his knees. He placed his hands on your bare waist and turned you around to face him, staring up at you with a reverence that had your heart jumping in your chest. 

He kissed your stomach, hugging your body with his arms. You could feel his muscles flexing—his hazel eyes so dilated, they appeared black—and you knew he was holding himself back for a moment. 

“There is no part of you that I am going to leave untouched, princess,” he groaned, his eyes trailing down your body, full of hunger. “Now that I can touch you, I’m going to make you wholly mine.” 

“What are you waiting for?” You whispered, so full of need. Your words had the desired effect, his restraint finally slipping. He pushed you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fell down on the soft cushion, your hair fanning around your head like a halo. 

Azriel rested on his forearms above you, capturing your lips again with a new frenzy that left you panting. A hand slipped underneath your neck, tilting your head back so he could deepen the kiss, caressing your tongue with his. He tasted as good as sin.

His lips began to trail down your throat, sucking on the tender skin and leaving love marks in their wake. Your hands slipped into his hair, fisting his dark locks between your fingers and he continued his path down your body, staying true to his own words that no part of you would go untouched tonight. 

He explored every inch of you, leaving you to moan and squirm underneath him. You arched into his touch, wanting more. So much more. 

“Azriel, please,” you whined as the ache between your legs became unbearable. Azriel looked up at you with his dark eyes from where he had taken your breast into his mouth. 

“Keep begging, princess,” he growled. “You will not rush me.” 

Your head fell back against the pillow as he started his ministrations on your breast again, using his hand to caress the other one. His kisses were soft but his hands were not. Not as they groped and squeezed you with a bruising grip that only heated you further. As if having handfuls of you was simply not enough. 

His mouth traveled down your stomach, licking and biting a path on your skin until he pulled away, standing up at the edge of the bed. You rose onto your elbows, eyes glazed with lust. 

Azriel drank in the sight of you laying bare before him, a muscle in his jaw flexing, his hands itching to touch you again. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “My mate. My love. All mine.” 

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, sounding far too needy. “Please, take me.” 

He leaned over, running his hands down the length of your body before he pressed a kiss against your belly again. “My mate.”

Another kiss between your hips. “Mine.”

He fell to his knees, pushing your legs apart so he could kiss the inside of your thigh. “All mine.” 

And then he hooked his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the bed. You let out a gasp, raising onto your elbows again to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee before moving his way up your thigh. 

“I need to taste you, princess.” His voice was a near whine as he left marks all along your leg—sucking and biting. You moaned his name repeatedly, begging and begging him just like he wanted. 

That set him off because a moment later, he was devouring you with a hunger only a mate could have. Your wanton moans had him palming himself through his pants, trying to relieve some pressure. He sucked and licked your core, not stopping until you fell over the edge, his name coming out of your mouth like a prayer.  

You were still coming down from the high as he made his way back up to you, kissing your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. You pulled back, grabbing his face in your hand. Gods, he was so beautiful. Everything about him was so beautiful. 

Your heart fluttered at the love in his eyes, you were smiling without even realizing it. You kissed him as you reached for the buttons on his shirt. “Take this off. Now.”

“Anything for you, princess.” He smiled against your lips and helped you undress him as fast as he could until he was as naked as you. 

You could feel his hard cock pressed against your stomach. 

You ran your hands down his chided chest, raking your nails over his skin. He groaned at your touch and you pressed a kiss to his jaw, his throat, enjoying the noises you were causing him to make. Your hands continued their way down his body until you were about to finally grasp his cock but he grabbed your wrists in one hand and slammed them into the mattress above your head. 

You let out a noise of displeasure.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Azriel groaned. “I need you. Now.” 

You hissed as he took his cock in his hands and lined it up against your entrance. He hovered for a second, glancing at you, seeking permission one last time. 

“Please,” you begged. “Don’t stop.”

Azriel held himself up over you with a hand on either side of your head, lightly brushing his lips against yours. He slowly slid inside of you, inch by inch. Savoring the way you wrapped around him. You groaned, wrapping your hands around his biceps, your nails digging into his skin at the slight pain. 

But the pain was worth the pleasure. Was worth the feeling of your bodies becoming one. You wanted that feeling to never end. 

He stopped once he was buried inside of you, allowing you a moment to adjust as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your skin. “You are mine. My mate, my love.”

“And you are mine,” you whispered back. 

“Until the end,” he agreed. 

He started to move, pulling all the way out and thrusting slowly back in. Azriel let out a curse and bit down on your neck, his canines piercing your skin. He licked the new wound as he pulled back out and thrust again. 

“Gods, please,” you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you. 

“No gods here to beg, princess,”Azriel growled. “Just me.” 

He fully unleashed himself then, his restraint snapping, as he lost himself in the feeling of you wrapped around him. You closed your eyes, melting into the mattress. He took every part of you, claimed every inch of you with him. You weren’t sure where your body ended and his began. 

With every frenzied thrust came a declaration of how much he loved you, how good you felt, how beautiful you looked with him buried inside of you, between his growls of pleasure. You became hyper aware of every brush of his skin, the feeling of his warm breath against your neck. 

The pleasure inside of you grew and grew with every stroke of his cock until his name was slipping from your mouth with a string of curses and pleas. Your hands trailed his body, down his back until you reached his wings. He groaned as your fingertips brushed against the cool membrane, his pace quickening. 

His thrusts grew more frenzied at your touch as the bond shined like starlight between the two of you. It was blinding, all consuming. 

“I love you,” Azriel murmured between his kisses and it was those words that finally sent you over the edge. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, your darkness taking over the room as you reached a high you’d never felt before. 

At the feel of you coming on his cock, tightening and pulsing around him, Azriel fell over the edge right after you with one final thrust, burying himself inside of you as a hot stream of his cum filled you so thoroughly.

Both of you were panting as you came down from that high. Azriel collapsed on the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging you to him. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart that beat to the same rhythm as yours. The same rhythm of your mating bond’s mesmerizing song. 

Azriel lazily ran his hand up and down your spine. His touch was soothing and you never wanted it to stop. Not when you had once been untouchable to him. No, you wanted to feel his skin against yours at every waking moment and you knew he felt the same way by the way he clung to you now. 

“I love you,” you whispered, tracing over his tattoos with a finger. 

“I love you too,” he mumbled into your hair. “You are my everything. I’m never letting you go again now that I have you.” 

“Good,” you smiled, propping yourself up to look at him. “Because I'm never letting you go either.” 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

100 years later

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was warm as you sat cuddled against Azriel, watching your family open their solstice presents. Your hands were intertwined, as they always were since the day the two of you had your mating ceremony. Azriel had never considered himself a publicly affectionate person but after centuries of not being able to touch you, he would never stop now that he could—no matter who was around. 

Rhysand and Feyre sat on a settee across from you guys. Nyx and Selene stood beside them, smiling down at their two younger siblings as they ripped open their presents from them. Cassian and Nesta were on a couch next to them, a bundled up babe held in her arms. 

Mor and Emerie were giggling in the corner together, like they were in their own little world. Elain stood with Lucien, three younglings that shared the same red hair running around her legs with laughter. Even Amren was smiling, sat with Varian. 

You placed a hand on your bulging tummy. You were due any day now with your first babe with your mate. Azriel placed a scarred hand over yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. Azriel’s shadows wrapped around your belly in a protective cocoon of sorts and you batted at them with a huff. 

You had thought your brother had gone overboard with protecting Feyre all the times she was pregnant but Azriel by far took the cake. 

The baby wiggled, causing both of you to gasp lightly at the feel. 

“I can’t wait to hold him,” Azriel murmured to you. “He’s going to be beautiful. Just like you.” 

You smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “I think he’s going to look just like his papa.”

Azriel chuckled, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink. He had been fussing over you and the baby since day one. He had built the entire nursery himself, with his own hands, claiming he didn’t trust anyone else to make things for your child. 

“Either way he’ll be perfect,” Azriel said, kissing the side of your head. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, lovingly rubbing your belly. “He will.” 

And three days later, the next chapter of yours and Azriel’s love story began. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The end. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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[mysunshinetemptress]

I love you

Alexia Putellas x sisters best friend reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst,

Alexia hadn’t always liked you let alone love you, to her you where her little sisters annoying best friend who would do anything possible to annoy her daily. She would huff and roll her eyes every time you would bounce over and ask for her to watch a dance both yourself and Alba had just come up with, or slam her bedroom door in your face anytime you knocked, you where a constant pain back then.

But to Alba you were her best friend who had been there for her through her worst and best times. Alexia and Albas father had died when Alexia was 18 and Alba was 15 with you still being 14 and you had been Albas constant being there from the beginning of their worst nightmare until Alexia decided to shut you out. It was something you always brushed off stating it was understandable you weren’t family and Alexia simply wanted to mourn such a massive loss with her sister and mother in private much to Albas dismay who constantly stated she needed you and Alexia had no right to push you away in that manner, especially when she knew how much you loved her sister.

Alva had been there for just as much as you had for her especially when her sister had began to date her teammate Jenni Hermoso breaking your heart in the process. Alexia didn’t know of your feelings swearing Alba to secrecy but her constant show of affection towards Jenni at the Putellas family home saw you avoid the house much to the older girls delight.

Alexia didn’t think she could dislike you anymore until in her words you “tried to take Alba away from her home.” You had been accepted into the Paris Opera Ballet School at the age of 18, she had screamed at you much to your, Eli and Albas horror, once again you had left the Putellas house on the older girls wishes only this time you didn’t return, instead you said goodbye to your best friend and boarded a plane. A year later Alba flew out to you and never looked back instead she began flying around the globe with you as you began your professional Ballet career stating you need a reminder of home (her).

But now at the age of 25 you where heading home for the first time, you where taking a well deserved break before your next contract started up opting to travel home to spend time with family and friends.

That’s how Alexia found you relaxing on the couch in her family home “Y/n.” You turned looking at the eldest Putellas smiling softly “Hola Ale.” Alexia looked at you stunned “you…you are home.” You nodded “Sí for a while I have a break in my contract so I thought why not.” Alexia nodded unable to take her eyes off of you “well eh..it’s nice to see you.” You smiled brightly at her “it’s nice to see you too Ale.” Alexia let out a nervous laugh before rushing into the kitchen to find her mother as Alba trotted down the stairs “what was that.” You let out a huff “that was me realising I might still have feelings for your sister Al.” Alba smacked you laughing “dios mío, y/n you told me you where done with her the night you left.” You shook your head “I know but Al, I forgot how hot your sister was.” Alba through a pillow at you head as you laughed.

You spent nearly every day at the Putellas house like the old days only this time Alexia didn’t seem to care as much, maybe it was the fact she had her own place now but you often found her sitting watching movies with you and Alba or sitting at the dinner table having coffee in the morning. What blew your mind altogether was when she invited you on a night out with her teammates, “Alba will be there, but I just thought I would ask you know incase you wanted to meet them or just go out for the night.” You smiled happily nodding “I’d love to, eh I’ll be here at 7pm.” Alexia couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach “sounds good Osa.” You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname remembering back to when the word adesoso used to follow after it.

You had been panicking since 4pm on the phone to Alba “I don’t have clothes Al.” Alba huffed “yes you do amor, wear the black corset and trousers you know the leather ones and your boots you look hot in them.” You rolled your eyes “ok are you sure.” Alba rolled her eyes “you could wear a bin bag and Ale would think you are hot.” Three hours later you were stood outside the Putellas house nervously talking yourself up to ring the doorbell looking up suddenly when you head Alexia’s voice “Joder, eres preciosa.” You looked down as your face reddened “Gracias Ale.” You finally looked up staring at the older girl “wow Ale you look wow.” Alexia shook her head before grabbing your hand and pulling you in the door shouting out to Alba that you were here and ready to go.

Arriving at the club you scanned the room before catching eyes with Barcelonas best known defender “Mapi.” Maria turned on a dime laughing as she ran to scoop you up “Bebé pequeño.” You laughed at the nickname you kissed her cheek as she put you down not turning as you felt a hand on your back thinking it was Alba “how are you amor, what are you doing here, oh I have someone I want you to meet.” You laughed at Mapi’s excitement “Más despacio,Maria.” The hand left your back as Mapi dragged you towards the crowd “Mi Vida I have someone you have to meet.” You froze slightly at the sight of the tall Norwegian until she smiled brightly at you “Maria did you kidnap a ballerina.” Mapi looked confused “eh no, this is Y/n mi Bebé pequeño.” Ingrid shook her head “no you kidnapped one of the best Ballerinas in the world.” You laughed shaking your head before putting your hand out to shake Ingrid’s hand “Hola, I’m Y/n.” Ingrid looked surprised as you leaned into Mapi “how do you two know each other.” You both looked at each other and laughed “Ale and Alba.” Ingrid looked even more surprised before you began to explain “I grew up with Al, and then when I moved to Paris to study Alba followed me over a year later.” Ingrid looked stunned “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched you perform either live or on screen you are incredible.” You felt your cheeks reddening at her compliment before a hand grabbed your back again, once again assuming it was Alba you relaxed into their arms “My friends are actually trying to organise seeing you in Vienna.” Finally the voice behind you spoke causing you to stiffen “Vienna.” You turned looking at Alexia “sí, I leave in two weeks to begin rehearsals and then my next show is in Paris and then my agent said something about dancing in London.” Alexia felt her stomach drop “so when are you coming home.” You looked at Alexia confused “probably not for a while, why you aren’t going to miss me.” You laughed half heartedly but stopped at Alexia’s frowning features “of course I will.” You shook your head “you hate me.” Alexia sighed “I don’t hate you Osa, I’ve never hated you.” You wanted to push further but Alba grabbed your hand “Come on show off those moves we all know you’ve got.” You couldn’t help but look back at Alexia eyes softening as you looked at the frown spread across her face.

You had been dancing for hours getting lost in the moment with Alba like you both normally did, although this time you couldn’t help but look for Alexia sighing every time you noticed her talking to someone else before shaking your head and going back to dancing. You stiffened suddenly as an unknown hand wrapped around your waist before someone began speaking to you “Hola, guapa.” You turned looking at an unfamiliar face before smiling nervously “hola.” You turned looking for Alba before seeing her talking to a girl “it’s ok she’s with my friend.” You looked at the strange woman confused “ehh ok.” You quickly looked at the table of Barcelona players trying to catch someone’s eye but finding no one, you couldn’t help but squirm uncomfortably as the girls hand stayed on your waist squeezing it before you turned to Alba grabbing her hand “Al Por favor.” Alba simply brushed you off to busy batting her eyes at the girl she was flirting with “Al.” You tried again only to feel the random girl pull you towards her “hey why don’t we go get a drink.” You shook your head “no gracias.” But she wasn’t taking no for an answer as you put your hands on her shoulder trying to push her off you. You gasped quickly as you were pulled into a different pair of arms relaxing immediately as you took in Alexia’s perfume unable to stop the gasp you let out “Ale.” Alexia ignored you pulling you before she grabbed Alba “Al we are leaving.” Alba turned to argue before she caught your eyes and a worried expression spread across her face “what, what happened Y/n.” Alexia huffed “you would know if you took your head out of that girls ass and stopped flirting with her.” Alba huffed pulling her sister back towards her “why do you care.” Alexia shook her head “leave it Alba, I’m not doing this here.” Alba shook her head not taking that “no we are, you have hated Y/n since our friendship started, you haven’t made it a secret so don’t try to deny it.” Alexia huffed “I don’t hate her.” Alba cut her off “yes you do.” Alexia was getting angry “no I don’t, I love her.” Alba looked at her sister surprised “I love her, I’m in love with her.” You looked surprised at Alexia “you love me.” Alexia turned to you shocked “well….i…..ehm.” You grabbed the older girls face pulling her into a searing kiss “I’ve wanted to do that since I was four years old.” Alexia laughed kissing you again “let me take you home Osa.”

You groaned lightly turning to see Alexa’s relaxed features as sleep took over her body until she groaned at the sound of the knock on door until Eli pocked her head in “Gracias a dios, you grew a pair Ale.” You couldn’t help but laugh “hi Eli.” Eli smiled at you “Papa would be so happy.” Alexia looked at you smiling softly “I know, he told me if she wasn’t going to be his daughter in law he would disown me.” You laughed pulling the older girl into a kiss “slow down mi amor, you only admitted to your love to me yesterday.” Alexia sighed happily “yeah but I know this is forever.”

[lovesickonmybed]

I want Vi to spank me, ir could be as a punishment or just a random smack, I don’t care. I just need her hands on my ass..

You’re so real for this.

Word Count | 1.3k

Tags | NSFW, spanking, mommy kink, brat!reader, modern au, fem!reader.

NSFW below the cut <3

You’re in the kitchen with your laptop on the counter going through your email when she comes up behind you and slaps your ass hard. You jolt forward and your cheeks heat up, you roll your eyes and look back at you, “Nice to see you too, Vi,” you joke. 

She leans on the counter next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder, “You looove me,” she teases. She wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you closer to kiss you on the cheek. You smile and enjoy her embrace as you keep looking through your emails. “Y’know we haven’t played in quite awhile, cupcake. Any chance you’d be interested to tonight?” Vi asks.

You’ve been busy with work and it’s been impossible for you and Vi to have any time to be intimate, but thanks to your three day weekend it might actually be a possibility tonight. 

“God, I’d love to. What do you have in mind, honey?” You ask, closing your laptop to give her your full attention. 

“I’m thinking a little roleplay? Maybe you’ve been acting up and I have to set you straight, how does that sound to you?” 

You smile wide, “Sounds like just what I’ve been needing.” You wrap your arms around her and pull her against your front. “Want me to act up a bit before we do? I think I need to really earn that spanking.” 

“You know I do,” she chuckles. 

You spend the next few hours dialing your brattiness up to 100, walking around the house in the lingerie set you know she loves. When she tells you to put some clothes on so she can focus on her work you slip on an old t-shirt of hers. She cut the neckline off and it hangs off you, showing the top of the bra on one side. She has to work hard to hide the smile on her face when you walk back into the living room in it. 

You practically throw yourself into her lap later that day when she’s playing video games, she tries to hide her annoyance as she’s killed thanks to your distraction. “Lemme play, Vi. C’mon I can do much better than you,” you tease.

She looks down at you with a cocked eyebrow, “Is that so?” She shoves the controller into your hands, knowing damn well you’ve never played a single second of the game. “Go on, show me how good you are then.” You take the controller and restart from where she died, thanks to you. Vi goes over the controls with you and lets you have at it. You wish you could frame the look on her face when you get past the level.

“See? I’m pretty good,” You giggle, handing the controller back to her. 

She groans, “When did you get good at video games?” She sounds almost bewildered.

“Watching you helps.” You kiss her cheeks and stay nice and comfy in her lap as she keeps playing.

After dinner you clean up and Vi heads to the bedroom to get ready. She changes into a sports bra and boyshorts and waits on the bed for you, sitting with her legs spread. You take your time cleaning up, letting her get riled up the longer she waits for you. Once you’re done you slowly walk to the bedroom, stripping off her shirt as you walk in, carelessly tossing it to the floor. You look over at her and smirk, “Sorry, were you waiting on me?”

Vi rolls her eyes and motions for you to come over to her, you walk slowly and once you’re stood in front of her she pulls you over her lap with ease. You yelp in surprise, forgetting briefly how strong she really is. “You know damn well I was waiting for you, brat. How long can it take to wash a couple dishes?” She snarls. She kneads her fingers into the flesh of your ass and you bury your face in the comforter and whine. She pulls your head up, “What do we say for making mommy wait?”

You stay quiet for a minute and she slaps your ass hard enough that you know it’ll turn red in seconds. “I-I’m sorry for making you wait!” You whimper. Vi rubs the spot she slapped and hums. 

“Apology accepted, how does ten sound to you cupcake?” She asks, still rubbing the spot she hit. 

“Sounds good, ma’am,” you reply meekly. 

“Good girl, count for me.” 

And with that she begins. You grip the comforter tightly and prepare for the first smack, Vi isn’t exactly known for being the most gentle, but you love that about her. Her hand comes down hard across your ass and you whine at the feeling and sputter out, “O-One, thank you ma’am.” 

Vi smiles as she rubs the spot she struck, “Didn’t even have to ask you to thank me, you just do it all on your own. Aren’t you a good girl for me?” 

“Yes ma’am…I wanna be good for you.” 

The next hit is even harder and you bite your lip hard so try not to yelp, “Two…thank you ma’am.” You’ve missed this, you’ve missed Vi’s hands on your ass, you’ve missed the pain, the aftercare she so sweetly provides. It feels so nice to get treated how you want. 

The next few are even harder, you know your ass is gonna be sore and red by the time she’s done, but that’s how you like it. You’ll beg her to take a polaroid for you like she does every time, it’s become a tradition for you two. 

The last few hits are the worst of them all, the seventh bringing tears to your eyes as you try your hardest to get your words out without blubbering. “G-God, thank you…shit, seven,” you whine. Vi feels proud every time she gets you like this. 

“Was that a swear I heard?” She asks, lifting her hand again.

“Yes ma’am…I’m sorry, it just slipped out. I promise it won’t happen again,” you promise.

“You better hope it doesn’t. I’ll let it slide for now but if it happens again that’s five more spanks, got it?” 

“Yes ma’am, thank you for your mercy.” 

She smiles and continues on with your punishment, you make it through the next two with zero problems and ready yourself for the last hit, it’s always the hardest. You go ahead and bury your face against the comforter as she delivers her last strike. You cry out against the fabric and take a moment to compose yourself before lifting your head, “Ten…thank you for my punishment.” 

Vi starts massaging and rubbing your ass tenderly, “Of course, sweet girl. You took it so well, you always do, always so good for me. Go on and lay on your stomach on the bed for me, I’m gonna go get the aloe.” 

You crawl off her lap and onto the bed and lay on your stomach like she told you to. You cross your arms and rest your chin on your forearms while you wait. She returns quickly and sits next to you on the bed, beginning to apply the cold gel. You squeal as you feel her start to apply it against your reddened bottom. Vi laughs, “Does that feel good, cupcake.”

“It’s cold…but yeah, it’s nice. Thank you.”

Vi smiles down at you, “Of course, honey. You took it so well. I’m so happy we were able to do that again, it felt like it’s been two long.”

You sigh, “It has, but you have me home for two more days to do whatever you’d like with.”

“No more spanking for the next couple days, sweet girl. But, I do have some other things in mind,” she teases. 

“Oh really? So do I, how’s a shower sound right now?”

Vi’s eyes light up, “Sounds perfect.”

[mxigo]

i remember everything (wish i didn't, but i do) | part 2

SERIES SYNOPSIS: logan saved the timeline, but the consequence is that he doesn't remember anything after 1973. now back in 2023, he has missed 50 years of history. including any history of your relationship with him.

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.02k

MINORS & AGE-LESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. YOUR AGE MUST BE SOMEWHERE IN YOUR BIO OR YOUR BYF.

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

The next few hours were a blur. After falling apart on the bathroom floor, you somehow were able to get yourself into the shower, albeit the water was scorching hot, and you once again ended up on the floor. It was only when the room became so hot that you couldn’t breathe did you finally shut the water off and uncurl from around yourself.

You still didn’t feel the same after changing into some lounge clothes, lying on his side of the bed and staring out into nothingness. The room felt too dark, too empty, too hollow. Even though all of his belongings were still here, it was now just your room.

Another stuttering breath left you as you realize that it felt like he died instead of just forgetting you, but he might as well have.

How were you going to explain this to anyone? Oh yeah, this Logan wasn’t the Logan that you’d come to love wholly and completely with every fiber of your being. He wasn’t the Logan that you’ve just spent the past four years with. He wasn’t the one that held you during your darkest moments, or let you shine during your brightest. He wasn’t the one that still managed to make every day a surprise.

And he won’t be ever again.

A gentle knock on your door pulled you out of your stupor. You don’t answer, but the door opened anyways. A soft shadow blurred out the hallway lights, but you didn’t have to turn around to be able to guess who it was.

You still didn’t say anything as she entered your room and shut the door behind her. Even though your back was to her, you could still see the look of pity on her face as she slowly approached you, settling at the edge of the mattress by your feet.

A hand came up and rested itself on your calf. “I’m sorry about what’s happened to Logan. I can’t even begin to imagine the kind of pain that you’re going through right now, Halo.”

“Please, Jean, I just wanna be alone,” you begged, pulling the sheets tighter around yourself.

A beat passed before she spoke again.

“I know, but friends don’t let friends wallow in misery. Besides, there’s a frozen strawberry margarita and queso from Louie’s with your name on it in the kitchen.”

A watery laugh left you, some tears making their escape as you finally sat up, wiping them away. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jean.”

“Probably rot away in here until the end of time.”

“Probably,” you sighed, peeling away the sheets.

It was late, so you didn’t bother changing out of your lounge clothes just to go the kitchen. The two of you didn’t run into anyone on the way down thankfully. The lights were on, and sure enough, a to-go back from Louie’s sat on the kitchen counter with your name sharpened on the side of it.

You wasted no time settling into a stool and diving into the bag, pulling out the margarita and the still hot styrofoam cup of queso, along with a brown bag of tortilla chips. Despite not actually being there with Logan, you guess this would have to suffice as your after-mission treat.

Jean had chosen the stool next to you, occasionally picking a chip out of the bag to snack on. It was quiet for a few moments while you slurped down your frozen drink before you broke the silence.

“So…Did you see him yet?”

Jean’s eyes snapped over to you, surprised that you brought him up.

“I did. He had just woken up and came into the professor’s office. He was looking around like everything was new, like he was surprised to be where he was. He still looks the same, obviously, but it’s like he holds himself completely differently now. It’s hard to explain without seeing him.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, bringing a cheesy chip to your mouth. Jean looked at you for a moment, a look passing over her face before it disappeared, deciding to redirect her focus to the outside. You were about to ask another question before you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, and like a cruel joke, Logan walked past the doorway.

Speak of the devil.

He stopped dead in his tracks once he realized the kitchen wasn’t empty, back tracking just a couple steps to stand in the doorway. He was dressed in his signature leather jacket and t-shirt, holding the keys to his bike in one hand. You assumed that he just came back from a bike ride.

You brave yourself to meet his eyes, but instead of them looking back, they’re looking just next to you. Confused, you look to your right and realize that Jean’s looking right back, unblinking with a look on her face.

“Jean.”

“Logan.”

It had completely escaped you how this Logan’s Jean had been dead for years, and since he had never met you, of course his feelings for Jean had never waned after all this time. He was looking at her like he used to look at you.

Your margarita suddenly soured in your mouth, and the rest of your meal became completely unappetizing. Instantly your stomach began to roil, and all your once hidden feelings of inferiority began to rear their ugly heads. It’s only once you pushed the cup away and abandoned it to leave did Logan turn his attention towards you, meeting your eyes. It’s almost comical how fast you turned breathless and mindless, unable to think about a damn thing to say to him, but what could you say?

You mumbled a thanks to Jean before high tailing it towards the only entrance in and out of the kitchen where Logan was still standing. You kept your eyes trained on the floor while you walked, but in a moment of weakness, you let your eyes flick up to him. You expected him to still be staring at Jean, but it startled you to find that he was looking down at you with an indiscernible look on his face as you all but pushed past him.

If Jean called out to you, you didn’t hear it, focusing only on getting back up to your room to wallow in grief again. You were so stupid to think that this Logan would look passed Jean as he had in the past. She died before he ever could. So now that she was here, and he had her, of course he would overlook you and look towards her.

You never had a chance.

~

Logan watched as you fled all the way down the hall before disappearing around a corner, and he still listened as you flew up the stairs before letting your bedroom door snick shut. He let his eyes drop to the floor as he thought about your face just then in the kitchen, completely frozen at the sight of him. Your wide eyes were frozen on him like you saw a ghost, and he guessed that you sort of did.

He's brought back to reality as he heard Jean sigh, getting up from her seat in the kitchen. She picked up the leftover food before throwing them into the bag and throwing all of it away, brushing her hands on her pants. He still stood in the doorway as she approached and had no choice but to stop in front of him.

“Do you really have no memory of who she is?” she asked, letting her eyes drift up to his.

Wordlessly, Logan shook his head, dropping his eyeline to the ground. “No, but I know that I should.”

“Yeah. Listen, Logan, I know that things are drastically different for you now, and that you probably feel like you’re just floating with nowhere to go, but Halo was probably the one person that you let yourself truly attach to. And there’s a reason for that.”

Then she left, leaving Logan speechless alone in the kitchen.  He shook his head and sighed, rubbing his face as he continued his way up to his room. This was a mess. Everything was a mess. This entire day was spent trying to figure out what his place was in this new present, and he had been left with little to no answers. Sure, he still had mostly the same relationships with people with just small variances in them, but two of the biggest were completely different to him. It was still a punch to the gut every time he saw Jean, completely taken away by seeing her in the flesh when he had only seen her in his dreams. And you…he had no clue how to navigate.

While he made no outright effort to find you, he still kept an open eye wherever he went in case he did see you. He was curious to the kind of person that could have made him forget about pursuing Jean, especially since she was still alive here. You were much different than Jean, at least from what it looked like, and damn it he wanted to know more.

He had just made it to the stairwell when he heard one of the back doors slammed shut, rattling the walls. It was late and a school night, so there was really only one guess to who was going outside at this time. It took only a single look up the stairs before Logan decided to follow, dropping his keys into his pocket.

As soon as he took his first step outside, he already picked up your scent, leading out into the forest that lined the back part of the school’s property. It wasn’t hard to follow where you had been, and it didn’t take long before he came to the other edge of the forest. When he broke through the tree line, he was taken aback by the sight of a large lake spanning at least a couple of miles. The rocky shore was stunning, and the surface of the lake was so still it was almost eerie.

His head snapped to his right when a sniffle broke the serenity, finding you with your arms wrapped around your legs, staring out at the lake, but not really seeing. In the moonlight, he could see twin tear tracks on your splotchy red cheeks.

Taking a quick breath, he searched for the words that he could say to you as he approached, but you beat him to it.

“She was right,” you mumbled when he was near enough. Your eyes were still staring into nothing across the water.

He stopped just ten feet from you, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Who was right about what?”

“Jean. She was right about how even though you’re physically still our Logan, it’s like there’s a stranger wearing your skin.”

You picked up a rock next to you, taking a cursory glance at it before skipping it across the lake, breaking the glass surface.

“I feel like I’m wearing someone else,” he answered, keeping his eye on the last of the ripples.

Your head turned slightly to let your eyes look up at him.

“Even though I’m technically still the same person, everyone is slightly different. Their pasts are different, so they’re not the same from the people that I knew. It’s difficult gauging people because I already expect one thing, but then a curveball is thrown at me, and I don’t know what to do with it. But you, on the other hand,” he paused, letting his eyes drop to meet yours, “are someone completely new.”

You broke contact first, dropping your eyes back to the stony shore.

“God’s greatest joke,” is all you said before pushing yourself up.

You shoved your hands in your pockets and started the walk back to the mansion wordlessly, but Logan was just a handful of feet behind you the entire time. He didn’t bother making conversation, thank God, you thought, only keeping his distance as your shadow until you were safely in your room for the night.

taglist: @facelessfionna (if I didn't tag you, it's because you are either underage, or there is no age posted on your profile)

[sunnie-angel]

Nothing Fucks With My Baby (Part 2)

link to part 1

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason has always feared he’d be the monster of his life. what he doesn’t realize is that between the two of you, you will always be the bigger monster, and you will love him anyway.

tags: violence, murder, implied child abuse, manipulation, implied sexual content

rating: mature | wc: 5.8k

a/n: this plot bunny took over my brain and wouldn’t let me go until i’d finished it. reader’s pov can get pretty twisted, so please mind the tags on this one and let me know if i’ve missed any.

Lucy Nesbit dies remarkably young. Only eight years old and she had drowned in a stormwater overflow. Poor thing, the adults had all said. Should have minded her step better, shouldn’t have been playing in dangerous places. The school had held a week of mourning. A tragedy. It hadn’t taken much effort to kill her. A sharp shove, then kneeling on her back until the bubbles stopped, and suddenly there went Lucy. Stones thrown at recess, scissors searching for your hair, harsh names and turned backs all stopped with just a few moments of effort.

The killing of Lucy Nesbit is likely the most important lesson you learned from that school. No one at the foster home had noticed you come home soaking wet, blood on the tip of your shoe. No one had asked you any questions when you didn’t gasp with the rest of your class as the principal announced the death of poor little Lucy, gone too soon. Nobody had noticed that you had been the one to make the world a less scary place. It is a lesson you keep close to you.

Only Jason Todd had noticed anything different at all. Found you in the corner of the yard staring down at the pavement during recess. Tucked his hands and looked up at the sky, squinted.

“Don’t need me to look out for you anymore,” he sighs. Nudges your shoulder with his and says “Lucy won’t be pickin’ on you again.” He’s right, of course. She won’t be doing anything important really.

“Sometimes I wished she’d die so they’d leave me alone,” you whisper. “‘Cause it was bad when you were there but when she’d wait for you to leave it was always worse. Does that mean I’m a bad person?” It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind before. Is there something so wrong, so terrible about you that the well-fed well-heeled could just look at you and know there was something awful about you? The same thing that led to getting left behind, bullied, belittled. Had Lucy Nesbit taken one look at you and known you were something to be destroyed?

“Nah. You’re my best friend and I wouldn’t be best friends with anyone bad.” He grins at you, front left tooth still missing from where you’d helped him pull it out three weeks ago. The bell rings, shrill and discordant, signaling the end of recess.

It’s only years later that you understand the tremble of her lips and the wobble of her chin before she would call you names, dig her nails into the meat of your arm, lead the other girls in pretending you didn’t exist. Lovely Lucy Nesbit, sweet cheeked with glossy curls, had been afraid. She should have been. The new girl who’d only moved to the Alley recently after her father’s embezzlement conviction, oh she should have been afraid of the children chewing her up and spitting her out like a rotten peach. Instead, she chose someone else to make afraid. The little girl with only one friend and no one waiting for her at home. All of that glitz and Diamond District shine wasn’t enough to bury the ugly truth of Lucy.

Jason Todd dies at 11 years old. He dies at the hand of the Batman, Gotham’s own protector.

Three weeks after Catherine had died and two weeks after he stopped showing up to school, Jason shows up at your foster home. More particularly, at the window of the bathroom you’re currently hiding in. The knocking startles you, hands coming away from where they’d been pressed to your ears to block out the fighting. He grins and waves at you through the window, suspicious smears across his nose and temple. You have to stand on the very tips of your toes to push open the latch but you manage it. He presses his face to the bars, hands wrapping around the solid metal.

“Jason?” you ask, tone tinged with wonder. “What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ wanted to tell you I’m okay.” Something smashes within the house and the voices raise. “Couldn’t stick around for long after the funer— after. Didn’t wanna stick around to see if they’d stick me in a place like this.”

“But what are you going to do? Where do you live?”

“Found an empty building that’s pretty warm. Sometimes I find stuff and Mr. Baker at the garage buys ‘em from me so I can buy loads of snacks. You know—” there’s a loud pounding on the bathroom door, staccato sharp, that causes you both to jump. One of the older foster kids yells at you to hurry the fuck up, then slams on the door again for good measure. In a hurried whisper, Jason continues “You know the old building across the park with the purple window sills? Come find me there.”

The night Jason Todd dies, you’d managed to sneak out again. Knew from previous trips the best way to get to the old house was to go out the back and use the garbage bins to boost over the fence. Jason’s not there when you let yourself in, hands careful to put the loose board back exactly the same. He does this sometimes. ‘Finds’ things to sell to Mr. Baker so he can come back with candy from the bodega to share with you. You settle yourself in to wait in the blanket you’d snuck out for him when there’s a noise from the lane behind the house. Clutching the scratchy blanket closer to you, you feel your way through the dark, breath held in your chest like a treasure. The slats nailed over the painted window sills have just enough of a gap that you can see between them without being seen yourself. What you see out in the night causes you to grip the old wood until splinters dig into your palms.

The Bat holds Jason in his grip even as he struggles, even as he swears. Jason’s angry, snarling face is nothing like his smiles for you. The Bat shakes him as Jason tries to twirl out of his grip, head lolling like a doll’s. Jason goes limp as he is bundled into the looming machine parked down the lane. The last thing you see of him is his eyes, wide and fearful.

Jason Wayne puppets the body of your friend for years after. He is not the boy that stood between you and Lucy Nesbit and matched her stone for stone. This Jason Wayne smiles for pictures without baring his teeth as a warning. He doesn’t remember cruel words or the way the world works. He doesn’t remember the lessons and the secrets the two of you had passed between you. No, this Jason Wayne doesn’t remember you at all. The only explanation is that your friend is dead. The fine sweet thing with his round cheeks and charming school uniform you only glimpse in the paparazzi photos printed in gossip rags half-melted into garbage heaps is not your friend. Just another leech of the city with pretty powder and paint, fattened on too much while there exists too little.

You get the news that Jason Wayne has died while at your third foster home since the one Jason had found you in. You find out the same way everyone else in Gotham does, the public broadcast of Bruce Wayne’s press conference. It steals the breath from you, the anger that slams into you. Heat surges through you and it is all you can do to uncurl your fingers from their fists. It hadn’t escaped you that four months after Jason Todd died there was a new Robin in town. That this Robin had a gaped tooth grin that would make even the dull mourning for a girl you hated seem bearable. The red rimmed eyes of Bruce Wayne on the staticky screen of the common room television confirms what you already know: Bruce Wayne is the Bat and he has killed your friend twice over.

Screaming into your pillow that night, your understanding of how the city works crystallizes. The Bat does not protect you, does not make your city better. He takes and he takes until there is nothing left for you. He throws out in a week food that would sustain you for a month, drops money on batted eyelashes and shiny new toys for him to destroy more of the city with. He is not the saviour some people say he is. He will not save you.

You are the Alley girl with the strange knobbly knees and the eyes that see too much. You will save yourself. You will keep your lessons about the ways the world works and what it takes to change them close to your heart.

The City of Gotham is never short of two things: crime and government money to prosecute it. Certifying as a court stenographer isn’t cheap, not with juggling your ejection from the foster system at 18 and having no funds to speak of. Second and third jobs keep you afloat until the scholarships and grants kick in. But by 20 your future is secured, government pension squirreling away into your accounts. You even manage to buy the house with the purple windows. It goes for a song on account of the murder that took place there all those years ago, but brand new flooring takes care of the more suspicious stains. It should be enough, to have saved yourself. It isn’t.

Every day you go to work and dutifully take down every damning word said. You record the lies and the horrors and the not guilty verdicts and every word you transcribe breaks your faith a little more. You have not saved yourself. The world has not changed, you aren’t any safer than you were at 13 and scared that the drunk man calling out crude words might actually carry them out on your walk home. No safety exists save for the pretty little lie you had painted for yourself. The only thing that has changed is that you are not scrabbling in the dirt.

Somewhere along the way, in the mess of bureaucratic paperwork that had become your life, you had forgotten the lessons you were meant to remember. Forgetting had not served you well. It takes a drunken night out gone badly to force you to remember.

A coworker pressures you to come out with the rest of the stenographers, a newly opened bar just close enough to the edge of the Alley to give the old money blood suckers the illusion of danger. The dance floor is crowded but you choose to stay hunched over your drink, wary of this glittering crowd. A man sidles up to you, rests his forearm against yours and offers you a smile that reeks of Texas oil wells and Manhattan construction firms. You look him in the eye as he fumbles through some pickup lines, nearly sick with the realization that he doesn’t recognize you. DUI, ran through a school crosswalk at the end of the school day, one child dead and two permanently disfigured. Got off with community service and a hefty donation. He wants to fuck you.

The police find him behind the bar the next morning, throat slashed and wallet missing, and chalk it up to a mugging gone wrong. He should have known better than to go flashing so much cash so close to where criminals live, the news anchors tut. Unable to withstand the scandal, the bar closes. You savour the top shelf whiskey bottle you’d bought at their closing, the same one he’d tried to buy you and drug you with, and attribute the glow in your belly to having done a good thing. His driver’s license finds a home under your living room floorboards.

The Red Hood arrives and the Alley almost seems to reverberate with the shockwaves. Still, pretty young things with a hankering for a bit of rough to tell all their friends about with champagne glasses in their hands and haughty titters wind up dead. You don’t recognize all of them from work, some of them you simply want power over. To reveal to these silver spoon fed creatures exactly how fragile their influence is. Disposing of them does not save you, but it makes you feel safe to know that the world does not turn solely around those shiny, fragile things. You are careful and you are not caught.

At the courthouse, you watch the aftermath of the Hood’s vendettas play out. Chat about cases with your coworkers between trials just to get a feel for what his game is. He’s an unknown to most of them, but not to you. You look at how the number of drug convictions of minors plummet this quarter, watch at how fewer pimps get brought in for killing their girls, note the way gang violence reduces down to just the Hood’s own orders and you understand. Whoever the Hood is, whatever he is, he knows the same lessons engraved on your heart. That the world is not safe unless you make it, and that the world doesn’t care what methods it takes to get it done.

Your first run in with Gotham’s newest crime lord isn’t planned. Quite specifically, you had never intended to make your way onto his radar at all. He had different plans, however. Taking out the garbage, you all but trip over his feet one late night. He’s slumped against your fence with one hand pressed against his neck. Blood dribbles between his fingers, dark under the fluorescent burn of the street lights.

The gun pointing at your head does not dissuade you from attempting to push him into a standing position.

“If you wanted to die in my yard, the least you could have done is climbed in through the back,” you say, voice measured and cold. “I’m not letting you bleed out in my front yard and make me a target for whoever carved you that second smile.” That jolts a reaction out of him, gun wavering from it’s unerring focus on your face. “So what we’re going to do is get you out of the open and then I’m going to call whoever you want to come stitch you up.”

A man of his size dwarfs the chair set in your kitchen but he will not be moved from his vantage point. Defensive, back to the wall and all entrances in sight. The wound still bleeds sluggishly. Determined not to have this man die in your kitchen, not when he’s actually out there doing some good in the world, you lay out your first aid kit and go for his throat. The gun jamming into the side of your ribs immediately lets you know just how badly you’ve not thought this idea out.

“You’re still bleeding, pretty badly too. I just want to take a look to see if I can patch you up long enough until whoever gets here can do something.”

The moment draws out, neither of you saying anything. With every breath you can feel the muzzle of the gun dig into you further. Something must read as sincere on your face, not that you’d ever be able to name what it was, and he reaches up for his helmet. Pushes a button at the nape of his neck to release it, before deliberately placing it on the kitchen table one handed. He smiles at you with bloodied teeth and, oh, that’s your boy.

“Well,” he rasps, “get to it.”

At that exact moment you press down with gauze, forcing a grunt out of him. Good. Jason’s scared you enough for a single lifetime. Trying to secure the gauze with medical tape and spite, you’re forced to lean into him until the feverish glow of his skin warms your own.

“Not afraid ‘m gonna bite?”

“I know you’re not going to hurt me because you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t be friends with a bad person.” Leaning back, you inspect your work. Shoddy, but it’ll do until someone actually medically trained can stitch him up. Finally, you let yourself actually look at him. Behind the domino mask you’d swear there’s slack jawed wonder. A brusque knock at the back door interrupts the moment and then great big hulking men are carrying Jason away. You know he’ll be back.

The next time you run into the man who might be Jason, you are tripping out of a bar on the arm of your next pretty bright thing, too whiskey-headed to tell that you’re nowhere near as disoriented as you should be after what you’d knocked back. He knocks over a homeless man’s collection bowl and snickers when the coins get knocked down a grate. Grabbing your wrist, he tugs, pulls you into the side alley and tries to pin you behind the dumpster. The broken bottle shard is already in your hand when the man drops down dead. A neat hole in his head sending droplets all over your blouse. There’s no way dry cleaning will save it. The Red Hood steps into sight, gun muzzle lowered. And just like that, Jason Todd — not Jason Wayne — is back from the dead.

Jason kisses you sweetly for the first time after he drives you home from the traveling fair that had set up on the outskirts of the city. The feeling of his lips — soft, chapped, heartbreakingly gentle — slots something broken back into the hollow between your ribs. He kisses you and the axis of your world shifts. He kisses you, and you know that he will look at you like you are everything good and kind that you pretend to be if only you will love him back. The tender thing in your chest growing claws, fanning hunger into conflagration. Loving him will save you both.

He pulls back and you let him. Look up at him from below mascara-lengthened lashes and allow yourself a smile. Fiddle with the hem of your dress and tell him haltingly just how much you’d enjoyed the evening and how excited you were to do this again. Jason’s declared himself as yours for the taking and you will not let him slip through your greedy fingers.

You let Jason court you. Accept the flowers he brings to your door with quiet murmurs of appreciation. Wear soft dresses that invite him to touch but are just enough out of season for the weather so he’ll wrap his own jacket around you. Send him off to patrol with packets of his favourite candies tucked into his jacket pockets and laugh with him over the meals he cooks for you in the same kitchen he had nearly bled out in. You would have done most of these things for him anyway, but now they are your weapons. Each action meant to pierce another hook into his heart until he is as unable to leave you behind as you could him. You will never believe the world is safe without him in it.

The number of Gotham’s most elite reprobates coming to unfortunate ends zeroes out. You’ve got the prettiest up and comer on your arm these days, with his many scars and fearsome attitude. Jason in his many forms makes the world a better place, makes you safer with every bullet lodged in a skull. He is not the same boy that yelled at Lucy Nesbit for you or split a chocolate bar with you in an abandoned house. The cracks show through. Violence drips out of his every pore despite his hand wringing to you late at night. You are his confessor and absolve him of any sin. A fangless creature is useless to you, though you would grudgingly love it nonetheless.

The first time Jason sleeps with you, you engineer it, encourage it. Why? Because it ties him to you. Binds him through sweat and flesh in a way that nothing else but the kiss of death can. Lean in and wrap your arms low around his stomach as he drives you home on his motorcycle. Linger in his good night kiss before inviting him in to see how the flowers he gave you are doing. Sweep your hair away from your neck as you bend down to place his mug of tea on the rickety coffee table. You close your eyes and smile where he can’t see at the feeling of warm lips pressed to your spine.

It’s slow. It’s sweet. You’ve never felt like a more precious thing than in his arms. He looks at you like you’ve hung the moon in the sky and set the sun to burning. You kiss his scars and tell him to give you his stories when he’s ready. One day there will be nothing you don’t know about him. If Jason wasn’t in love with you before tonight, he is now.

You are told the tale of Jason’s deaths and rebirths only once, but it is enough to open up the yawning chasm of fear under you again. The world is not safe, not for Jason, not for you, not when so many of your enemies still walk this side of the grave. Gotham is safer after the Red Hood. Jason is still in as much danger as he ever was. The horror, the possibility that he could be cut down — by Falcone, by Sionis, by the Joker, by the Bat — it shakes you to your core. You want to scream, to rage. What you do instead is kiss Jason on the forehead and let him go to pieces in your arms.

Jason always says you bring out the best in him. If that is true, then he brings out the darkest parts of you. The parts that twist and grow cold until you see the world as sets of acceptable losses for acceptable benefits. In your eyes, any loss is acceptable for Jason’s sake. He becomes lighter after the revelation, no more secrets between you he says. Accepts your heartbreak on his behalf with teary eyes and a wry smile. The day he tells you that Bruce — his father, the Bat — had been the one to carve him open the time he’d turned up in your garden is the day he becomes wholly yours.

“Jason, Jason he shouldn’t have done that to you,” you say gently, cupping his wet cheeks in your palms. He won’t look you in the eyes.

“He was— he was lookin’ at me like I was the monster, like my murderer wasn’t standing there too,” he confesses. “I just wanted him to love me like when I was a kid.” He shatters. “I just wanted to feel safe again.”

“Oh honey,” you coo, shears tucked into your hand. “I love you, and you’re no monster to me. You know me, do you think I could love something truly evil? You do so much good, you help so many people and you ask for so little in return,” your gaze is tender, loving. “I’d keep you safe, Jay, if I could. And I’d do it because I love you. Someone that won’t do that, well, it’s no kind of love at all.” You see the blow land, have already calculated its trajectory and velocity.

“I don’t— but he loved me. He loves me,” Jason insists, plaintive and raw voiced. “Doesn’t he?”

“I think he might’ve once. When you were younger, sweeter. But Jason, everything he’s done since then hasn’t been love. If he still loves you, it wouldn’t matter that you came back different, came back changed.” You can feel the last threads of his relationship with the Bat fraying under the blades of your words. It’s time to make the final cut. “Can you really say he loves who you are now?”

Jason asks, once, if you ever thought about kids.

“I thought maybe I’d foster some day. Save some poor kids the same trouble I went through, so that others don’t run off scared like you did.” It’s a lie, of course, but you know it makes him feel better to think of you as anything but selfish. “Not now though, not with the way the world is.” You rest your head on his shoulder, curl your fingers into his shirt. “Besides, the life you lead is dangerous enough. It would be cruel to bring children into our lives right now. Maybe one day, if the world ever becomes a little safer.”

He hums, thoughtfully, and leaves the matter there. But the seed has been planted in the dark corners of his mind and one day they will bear fruit.

The house with the purple window sills is officially only a home to you, but Jason comes round for dinner, to spend the night in your bed so often, that it may as well be his home too. He listens to you talk about your long days at work, the court cases that worm their way under your skin and won’t leave until you purge yourself of them. Really, he’s more horrified than you were at the beginning of this at how badly broken the system is. You give no names, simply the crimes and the sentences, and even those details are too much to bear.

One night you come home from work silent. Red rimmed eyes dry and sightless, you collapse into him. It takes an hour, more if you count the time spent panicking over a hypothetical injury, to coax the story out of you. A snake in the grass of a financial adviser, stolen pensions, and three suicides. All charges dropped. The testimony of crying grandchildren still not enough to make a difference. It is the first time he demands a name from you. It is not the last.

The day your old foster father comes across your judge’s docket is the day the world finally feels less terrifying. He is acquitted, of course. The testimony of trauma victims are notoriously inconsistent after all, if the witness is truly traumatized and not just lying for attention. It hurts to hear his public defender say those things, but it does make what you have planned easier.

The moment Jason comes through the door you are on him. Clinging to him all weak limbs and fought back tears. He holds you gently and strokes your hair.

“I need… I need you to do something for me Jay,” you whisper into his chest.

“Just gotta ask baby.”

“I need you to kill somebody and I need you to let me watch.” He stiffens under you, but you will not lose him here. “D’you remember when you came to find me at the foster home, the one with the yelling?” He nods, presses a kiss to the top of your head. “That foster father walked free today, acquitted and all charges dropped. I need to know he’s not gonna stay that way Jay, that someone cared enough to stop him, or otherwise I’ll go crazy.” He exhales sharply through his nose.

“I’ll take care of him, jus’ like I take care of all those names you give me. But do you hafta be there? Isn’t it enough to just know he’s dead? I don’t wanna drag you down into the dirt with me.”

“You’re not tainting me, honey. You’re freeing me.”

You watch the man die, a slow drawn out thing as he begs for kindness. His pain means nothing to you. Only the final blow, dealt by Jason’s bloodied hands, shifts the burden of memory from you. You stop being afraid of this particular threat. The body is found scattered across the railroad tracks. Police mark it down as a suicide.

This victory is twofold. Your world is a little safer and Jason has killed for you, on your express order and with you as witness. There is no greater high than this, the power that sings through your blood. Jason will reshape the world to keep you safe. Now you will reshape the world for him.

It takes three more months of witnessing his work and not flinching before Jason brings him to you. In the end, it’s really quite simple. You ask for the chance to show Jason how much he is loved, to let you take care of this one thing to keep him safe. He puts up a token fight, insistent on keeping your hands clean of his business, but the two of you know that your hands are far from pristine. The Joker is bound at your feet by the end of the day. A quick drag of your wrist and he is just another thing to be taken out with Saturday’s trash to eventually be illegally dumped in the harbour. Jason sobs in your arms that night.

He is not the boy you’d wished to have returned to you as a child. Jason is not quite the Bat’s son, or the weapon of the League either. He is some half-raised creature of the city’s own design and you love him because of that. You know he does not see you half as clearly as you see him, but you will accept his wonderful naïveté for all the ways it will let you protect him. Protect you by extension. Jason’s trust, his devotion to you, it is everything you’ve ever wanted. It is more than you have ever expected to have. That forgotten little Alley girl, now the centre of someone’s world.

And so you plan. A list of names a mile long of people who make this city worse just by breathing. Kingpins and crime lords and all their networks, culled from your networks and court cases. Heroes and vigilantes who already work tirelessly to hamstring the work the Red Hood does, uncaring of all the lives he’s saved. A list that, when all of the occupants are dead, will mean you are finally safe in a world that belongs to Jason. Convincing Jason, with all of his infinite love for you, to wipe the slate clean of them all is still no easy matter. Instead, you let the Bat make your argument for you.

Another bar, another drunk cell-less jailbird, only this time you know that Jason is waiting in the shadows, that the Bat is in the rafters. The man stumbles, his too shiny shoes catching on the cracks in the pavement. Jason moves to raise his gun and a flicker of metal sends his aim wide. The man on your arm shies at the sound of gunfire but your grip is iron. A body slides between Jason and his prey and you refuse to let this one escape. The pen knife lodges beneath the jaw bone, catches on something and sticks. His death rattle is unsightly but he goes down easy, life slipping away down the sewer grate. A booted step, heavier than Jason’s, causes your head to snap up.

A wraith looms over you and it’s pure terror that sends your stomach into free fall. The Bat turns on you, advances until your back is pressed up against the brick. A gloved hand reaches for you but pulls back like stung when a bullet narrowly misses a finger.

“Last warning. Back. Off.” growls the modulated voice of the Red Hood. He prowls forward, legs eating up the distance. The Bat simply grunts. Back to the wall, you try to inch away, but the feeling of cold metal stops you. The cuff around your wrist cinches shut so tightly you can feel the bones of your wrist grind together. You whimper, high in your throat. Jason’s fist goes crashing into the cowl.

“I said back off!” the Bat catches his next punch, before returning a hit of his own.

“She just killed someone in cold blood, Hood. You’re protecting a murderer.”

“At least she did something, Bruce! D’you even know what that man did? What you let him do to this city?” he screams the last word then headbutts the Bat.

The alley descends into a flurry of blows, bodies colliding with metal and concrete. Neither of them notice you pick yourself up from knees and flee. Home’s not safe, not until Jason tells you. But he’ll come back for you. You’ve gotten so good at waiting for Jason, what’s a few hours more?

He finds you in the safe house he’d made you memorize the address of way back in the infancy of your relationship. Nerves have you sitting in the dark, too afraid that even a light will give you away. It is a cold kind of silence that blankets the small kitchen with its empty cupboards. Dried blood has started to flake off of your skin and you begin to pick at it. For a moment, the repetitive motions distract you until you can’t bear the prickly feeling on your skin anymore. With a clatter you rush to the tap, the trailing handcuff clanging against the metal sink. A stone rolls in your gut and you retch until there is nothing left in it. Everything rests on this. The future rests on this. You lean back and rest your forehead on the cool edge of the sink.

The sound of the window jimmying open causes you to jump, whirling around to face the threat. It’s Jason, only Jason, flailing around in the dark. The streetlights reflect off of his helmet, revealing the cracks in the patina. You launch yourself at him, fingers curling into the collar of his coat. He smells of blood and grime, but beneath it all, warmth. Jason crushes you to him, hand cradling the back of your head with a tenderness that overwhelms you.

“M’sorry I’m late baby,” he murmurs. “Why’s it so dark in here?” Unable to form words, you simply shake your head and press yourself closer. Fear has always dogged you, but never have you gotten so close to the source of it. Jason raises a hand and wraps it reassuringly around your wrist. “Let’s get some light and we’ll get this thing off of you,” he says while stroking a thumb over where the cuff digs into your skin.

You have to stifle a giggle at the absurd parallel to the night he tore back into your life. The two of you sat at a table tending to wounds inflicted by Gotham’s self-titled vengeance, the uncertainty of the future hanging over you. Hands gentler than they’ve ever been, Jason traces over the blooming bruises on your wrist, handcuffs discarded on the table.

“He’s never going to stop chasing me, is he?” you whisper, slow fear poisoning your voice. “He’s never gonna stop trying to take me away from you. Not while I’m alive.” Jason trails his grip to your palm and turns it over, brings it to his lips and places a featherlight kiss on your fourth knuckle.

“No, baby. Not while he’s alive.”

[blkgirl-writing]

Everything you written for Gale is so good 😭 I love your head cannon that he would be super needy and desperate for Tav. If requests are still open, I’d love to read about their first kiss. I’m sure there would be some major grinding involved too, considering he even does it in his sleep haha. I’m desperate to see how Gale manages to confess his romantic feelings to Tav with how nervous and cute he is.

First kisses- Gale x reader + Astarion x reader

This seemed just too perfect to not also do for Astarion, I hope you don't mind, anon!

Gale:

Gale had a bad habit of licking and biting his lips when he was nervous. Tara usually was there to swipe at him when he started, but she wasn't here to regulate him this time, instead, his lips started to peel, which only made him self-conscious. This never-ending loop is what made him want to put off anything more than longing glances, midnight cuddles by the fire as an excuse to keep warm, and occasionally connecting your pink fingers together as a reminder, that you're both alive.

But he really, really wanted to feel your lips on his, feel your soft touch on his jaw, cradle your waist. So that night by the fire, when all others were asleep, and it was just you and him staring up at the stars, he looked at you, with such brightness and care, you nearly melted away, but he held you together, with words of beauty coming from his lips. How wonderful you looked under the starlight, how he wished to suspend time so you could live in these peaceful, unharming moments forever. How he wished to kiss you.

A silence fell between you for a second, before you reached out and kissed his cheek, a small blush appearing on his face. It didn't take but a few seconds for him to lean in closer to you, only a small gap between your lips, waiting, for you to let him in fully.

Sparks flew when your lips touched, he swore it, every time he retold the tale of your first kiss. He said he knew in that moment you were his forever.

Astarion:

Looking back, the first kiss you shared wasn't when you first had sex, that was an exchange for safety, no, it was when he opened his heart to you, ready for judgment, but you had shown him love, instead. It was unfamiliar. Astarion was taken aback by your embrace, tight and long, and he realized he had never felt such kindness in this world, when he was alive or after he had died and been reborn, no one had shown him true acceptance, until right then.

His fingers played with your hair, his other hand at the very bottom of your back, when he leaned away he pressed his index finger below your chin, lifting your head off of his shoulder, and asked to kiss you. Your lips felt like serenity, finally peace in his world, where there were no intentions from either person, just love.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[inkspiredwriting]

A Lifetime and even longer

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I had the idea for this story because I thought of my grandparents. My grandparents knew each other as children and then became a couple when they were teenagers. When my grandma died, my grandpa died a week later. And somehow I thought it would be the same with Five and his wife.

Warnings: Angst, Death

In the golden hues of a fading afternoon, the garden was bathed in warm sunlight. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves, whispering through the old trees that had witnessed years of life, laughter, and memories. It was a peaceful, almost timeless setting—an oasis where Five and Y/n sat together, side by side, their hands entwined as they rested on a large lounger beneath the shade of a towering oak tree.

Five's once sharp, piercing green eyes had softened with age, his silver hair still cropped close, but with deep lines now etched into his face—a testament to the battles fought, the worlds saved, and the years that had passed. Y/n, beside him, looked as graceful and gentle as ever, her own hair now streaked with silver, her smile still as warm as the first day they met. Her hand rested lightly on Five’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as they both took in the tranquil scene before them.

Their world had grown quieter in recent years. All of Five’s siblings were gone now—save for Klaus, who could never truly leave this world. Klaus stood a little ways off, watching them, his eyes a mixture of sadness and acceptance. He had made peace with his eternal life, even if it meant being the last of his family left to witness their passing. He could always see them, his brothers and sister, as ghosts lingering in the edges of his vision, but today, it was Five and Y/n who held his attention.

“Klaus is here,” Y/n said softly, her voice like the wind, barely a whisper. “He’s watching over us.”

Five nodded, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. “He always was the one to stay behind, wasn’t he?”

Y/n smiled gently. “Always the one with the most heart. He never lets us go.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a long moment, the weight of their shared life resting between them. Their children had long since grown up and moved away to start families of their own. Maddie and Milo, the lights of their lives, had visited not too long ago, saying their goodbyes, knowing that this chapter was coming to a close. But right now, it was just the two of them—the way it had always been, ever since that day Five first realized he loved her.

“I’ve had a good life,” Five murmured, his voice soft but steady. “No regrets. Not with you by my side.”

Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice filled with quiet emotion. “I’ve never been so happy, Five. I didn’t think, after everything, that I’d get this. But you—” she squeezed his hand gently—“you gave me the life I never even knew I wanted.”

Five turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His voice broke just a little when he spoke. “I never deserved you, but I’m glad you found me anyway.”

Y/n smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. “You deserved everything, Five. You’ve saved the world countless times. You saved me.”

They sat there in the garden, wrapped in love and the kind of peace that only comes from a lifetime spent together. The sky above them began to shift from golden to soft pinks and purples, the sun dipping lower on the horizon. Klaus, watching them from afar, shifted uneasily. He could feel it—the weight of what was coming. His heart ached, knowing that this was their last sunset together, and he wished, just for a moment, that he didn’t have to witness it. But then again, he knew it was his place to be here. To bear witness. To say goodbye.

Y/n turned to look at Five, her eyes filled with love that seemed to stretch back through the years. “Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked softly.

Five chuckled, his voice rasping with age. “How could I forget? You were a disaster.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “And you were so grumpy. I didn’t think you’d ever like me.”

“I didn’t,” Five replied, though the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile. “But then you grew on me. I had no choice.”

“You had every choice,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with affection. “And I’m so glad you chose me.”

Five turned his head to look at her, his heart swelling with emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in so long. “I’d choose you a thousand times over, in every timeline.”

They fell silent again, their breaths steady and synchronized, their hands still clasped tightly. The warmth of the day began to fade, but neither of them felt it. There was only the steady beat of their hearts, the memories of their life together, and the knowledge that they had loved fiercely, truly.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/n’s breathing began to slow. Five, his own heart faltering, squeezed her hand one last time. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” Y/n replied, her voice soft as a lullaby.

And then, together, they closed their eyes, their breaths growing shallow. Five’s arms wrapped protectively around his wife as the world grew still.

Klaus, standing at a respectful distance, felt the shift before he saw it. He sighed deeply, wiping at his eyes as he approached the lounger. His heart clenched in sorrow as he saw them lying there, side by side, holding each other in death just as they had in life.

With a sad smile, Klaus knelt beside them, murmuring softly. “Rest easy, brother. You earned this.”

As he stood, the air around him shimmered slightly, and suddenly, he wasn’t alone. He turned and saw them—his family. His brothers and sisters, all of them standing there, their ghostly forms bathed in soft light. Luther, Allison, Diego, Viktor, Ben… all of them were there, watching over Five and Y/n. And standing beside them now, were Five and Y/n too, their forms glowing gently in the dim light.

Klaus smiled, tears in his eyes, as he saw the look of peace on their faces. His family, whole again, even in death. "Well," he said with a sniff, "I guess we’re all together now."

Five and Y/n, their hands still clasped even as spirits, looked at Klaus with quiet smiles. And though Klaus knew the pain of eternal life would never leave him, in that moment, surrounded by the ones he loved, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

[2knightt]

IM SORRY, I KNOW U GOT A REQUEST ON THIS SO MUCH ALREADY BUT…

Your motherly!reader fics are so good 😭! can you pleasee do another? platonic with the gang!! no romance 🥰 thank youu ❤️❤️❤️ your work is amazing btw!

the gang x motherly!reader

!warnings!

1.i did headcanons i hope thats okay😭

2.fem!reader

3.swearing and a small mention of violence.

Johnny Cade ;

like i’ve said before in other fics, he loves you so much.

honestly, you might be one of his favourite people!

when he walks down the street and he just so happens to see a cute flower, he picks it and gives it to you!

when he first met you, he refused to see you when he was injured in anyway. he thought you’d think he was weak and never see him again.

but as time went on, and you showed that you genuinely cared for him, he showed more of his vulnerable side.

johnny likes it when you patch him up now!

he thinks it’s calming, relaxing, and a, ‘nice change of things rather than lettin’ mother nature cure it.’

when he unknowingly/accidentally vents to you about his home life, he does get embarrassed.

he didn’t want you knowing, but when you hugged him real tight and told him sweet nothings?? he teared up ngl.

johnny wishes you could’ve been his mom.

when or if you have kids, johnny wishes they don’t take the, ‘how was your day?’ and the, ‘how’s school going?’ for granted.

because to johnny cade, that would be his perfect fairytale.

having someone as sweet as you to turn his life around, makes him excited to see tomorrow.

Dallas Winston ;

another bitch with mommy issues who is glad to have you.

mrs.curtis was definitely the mother he never had but always wanted and when she died, he was devastated.

but when you came along and started being that mother he missed??? he was both annoyed and over the moon.

he didn’t like that every time you bailed him out of jail, he got an ear full. however, he did like to know verbally that someone cared about him

he doesn’t show you any sort of affection, but he will tell you how he feels when drunk.

“thank you, so much y/n. i-i don’t know where i’d be without you.”

for mothers day, he doesn’t do anything special.

BUT—you didn’t hear this from me, before the clock hits 12, expect to hear like a cute little knock at your door, and open it to see a single flower on the ground with a pack of cigarettes.

dally ran off before you or anyone else could see him.

even though he didn’t sign his name, you knew it was from him. so, next time you see him, say thank you.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he’s like a toddler around you???

ponyboy definitely pretends to be like, your own bodyguard.

but really, who’s scared of ponyboy?

he tries though!

when he watches a movie and some character reminds him of you, expect that to be the first thing he tells you.

“ya know, when i went to the drive in, you really reminded of this one character.”

“oh? why’s that?”

“well because-“

and now you have to sit there and listen to him.

he’ll draw for you so much :(.

if you tell him your favourite flower, he WILL give you a drawing of it the next day. he’ll stay up all night if he has too!

Sodapop Curtis ;

he’s literally your #2 fan. first place goes to johnny.

he’s your biggest hypeman??? omg???

“gee, y/n! you’re lookin’ real fancy!! gonna get all the guys, eh?”

when ponyboy and darry argue and he just can’t take it anymore, he calls you and asks to come over.

and of course, you say yes everytime.

so please, PLEASE, just let him cry into your arms!!!!

when he’s done, he’ll try to go home but i’m begging you to tell him he’s welcomed to stay the night.

and if he does stay? ponyboy will be at your doorstep too.

he’ll share his famous chocolate cake with you!! he’ll make sure steve doesn’t touch it.

“STEVE THAT WAS FOR Y/N! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT! WE MAKE MAKE ONE TOGETHER! THE MORE PEOPLE THE FASTER THE CAKE WILL BAKE RIGHT?!”

“DO I LOOK LIKE A SCIENTIST??”

Darry Curtis ;

he is so thankful for you i legit can’t stress that enough.

you keep the gang in check, you keep ponyboy happy, and you help him around the house. what more could he ask for?

you legit force darry to relax while you look after the gang to make sure nothing bad happens.

“we’ll be fine, darry. go to bed, your dark circles are gettin’ darker by the minute.”

“yeah super-man! we’ll be fine with y/n!”

“yeah!!”

“fine, but if she wakes me up to tell me about any of you, so god help me.”

if you welcome him home with a newspaper and his favourite cup of coffee after a long day at work, he might ask you to move in.

Steve Randle ;

steve pretends that he doesn’t like you that much.

but he really does. like, the second he hears some soc threaten or insult you? he’s after them.

shit, he might be chasin’ after them in two-bits car while two-bit yells at the person.

he will legit go to war for you if you asked him nicely.

he will rant to you about cars if you let him😭.

he’ll rant to you about anything, honestly.

“and then the old bastard asked for a refund! the ‘no refunds’ sign was right on the door! how could that old bat not see it?!”

“steve! don’t call people that, but yes, it was very rude of that man to do that too you.”

“RIGHT?!”

Two-bit Matthews ;

he forces you to relax and watch mickey mouse with him.

he says it’s for your own good but when really, he just wants to spend time with you without the gang interrupting.

“guys! you’re stressing her out with all your STUPID questions! c’mon, y/n, mickey mouse is calling our names. can’t you hear it?”

“or maybe its the booze you had at 10AM.”

“i will sock you in your fucking throat steve.”

he plays with your hair…he finds it fun!

please tell him how to do some styles so he can go home and impress his little sister :(.

he offers you beer every once and awhile just so he can say he got you to loosen up.

“so y/n…you want some?”

“oh! no thank you, two. you know i don’t drink.”

he calls you mom in a joking way, ya dig?

“momm! steve called me a dumbass!”

“steve, be nice! apologize.”

“what the fuck?!”

author notes ;

1. i like totally rushed near the end LMFAO.

2. i never thought you bitches would eat motherly!reader up like this??

3.are you guys okay??

4.THANK U SWEETHEART OMFG??

5.i think theres no romance??

may 15th, 2023. 6:39PM

[beemochi-art]

Thoughts on the transformers one movie?

Me? you wanna here my thoughts about the TF one?

SURE!!

First off the movie looks amazing, the ost is incredible, the voice acting is pretty good and the writing is Awesome! The pacing a little fast, the story movie kinda quickly which is fine, I’d rather have a fast movie then a slow one.

You can tell the actors really cared about this movie, I have never seen actors get this much into the marketing for anything! Brian Tyree Henry did an amazing job for Megatron, by far he was the best.

There was plenty of action! The fighting and weight of the character was great, you can tell they were really hitting each other hard. This movie had a lot of love put into it. Incredible watching experience.

D16 was the star of the show! In my opinion at least! They were able to capture the innocence and the loss of that innocence really well. The slight character tics also didn’t get past me and did a lot to add to the emotions the character were showing.

I loved this movie, and I will be watching more as soon as I can! I accidentally missed that end credits scene. We were just too excited and wanted to talk about it!

!!SPOILER REVIEW!! ⬇️

Alright! This movie fulfill something the fans have been asking for year for. The Orgin of Optimus prime and Megatron on the big screen. We all knew it was going to be a tragedy! Whether you ship Megop or not, we can all appreciate the loss of someone close, when we think we know someone but then seemingly out of nowhere, they flip. But I assure you, the flip was not out of no where.

But before I get to the main two I want to talk about everyone else first.

ELITA AND BEE

Sorry Oplita fans, Elita is on a path to get that promotion and get that bag! Elita is in fact a mean boss babe, but that not all she is. She is a strong and determined worker. Even tho she is one of the lower classes bots she does everything with a sense of pride, no matter what she’s doing. She cares a lot, her gruff and aggressive attitude may try to hide it but I see past that. Although she really didn’t have an arc to her character you know? Idk I might have to watch it again.

Bee is the goofster to the group. Very cute and very funny. He really didn’t have an arc either and I wish he did. Bee was mostly there to serve as the comedic relief. And honestly I think we all needed. He wasn’t ever too annoying or obnoxiously stupid. I very much enjoyed him!

Sentinel Prime

God what a fantastic villain he was! Kinda sad he died. I always knew Dee would kill him. He was just as pompous and trashy diplomat as I hoped. Such good lines from him. He died like a dog and couldn’t be happier. We didn’t get to see his alt mode which made me kind of sad. He’s like a mega church pastor! They are usually secretly evil. Him turning the tides of the battle with the primes is something else dude.

ORION

Oh god here we go. His character was just fantastic! I’m really happy we are getting an origin story. His personality being the adventurists, rowdy, troublesome questioner is so cool! And such a big contrast to the usual iterations of Orion pax. He’s stray kitten coded. His young age makes him optimistic, selfish and naive. It also causes him to mistreat Dee; having the best intentions of course, even tho he completely disregards what Dee feels. It started off as him just wanting to be seen and help his people to everything quickly getting out of hand and him losing his best friend. I’m sure he regrets making Dee participate in that race. His issue just being childlike innocence and being self centered.

DEE (aka Dean. Aka Megatron.)

Oh god y’all aren’t ready for this one!

Dee starts off as the goodest boy. Will of whimsy! But like most villains all it takes is one bad day. Oh Dee you poor thing. If robots could cry he would have like four times in this movie.

Good Christian boy. Followed the rules, didn’t ask questions and had unwavering love for the Primes. Megatronus and Sentinel being the big two.

It’s cool to think of Dee eyes being a dead giveaway to how he’s feeling. Betraying him even in the final scene.

“NO, I WANT TO KILL HIM!”

This part! This is my favorite part of the whole movie. Dee had the audience full attention. The desperation, sadness and anger in his voice. Fantastic! As D16’s friend, this needed to be addressed immediately. But I can understand Orion not knowing what to say or how to comfort him, cause as a kid yourself what do you even say to that?? Orion always knew something was wrong, he was the questioner, but to Dee this was his life. To Orion, Sentinel Prime’s betrayal wasn’t that deep. But this was Dee’s life, he followed them without question, just to see his hero struck down in cold blood. His anger is something Orion can’t comprehend, he never knew he had that in him. I think Orion could probably right this off the first time but it wouldn’t be that last time D16 would start scaring Orion.

I’ve always heard people describe Dee has flipping his personality. There is no flip. Dee is deceptively passive. His whole life has been flipped and need Orions support. But sadly that moment would never show up. I don’t even think Orion would know how to go about it since he was so focused on his goal. My mom said Orion was a bit irritating because  he couldn’t properly read his friend.

At first I thought he had carved this into himself. Which is bad, really bad. But I think Sentinel doing it to him actually makes it worse. He hasn’t just mutilated Dee once, But twice. He took something he liked, something that was special, something that was a symbol of him and Orions friendship and made it cause him pain. It’s like the last of his innocence being taken away from him.

So when he was trying to kill Sentinels and Orion was holding him back he said “He needs to die.” And that last part sounding so emotional hits so hard. He loved Sentinel. You can hear the hurt and sadness in his voice for megatronus prime, sentinel the other miners, but mostly for himself. And almost all that hurt Orion had to say “you’ll be like sentinel.”

Oh brother that was no the move. Immediately upon it being compared to sentinel by his best friend, the rage returned. Blinded by his rage he accidentally shot Orion.

Finally we have Megatron. Bro is on his Kratos arc. Sentinel was driven by greed. Megatron is driven by his hate and anger.

This by far the best transformers movie. I think ever.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hiya! Could you do a one-shot of Alastor x fem! reader who is like Art the clown (from the terrifier movies, all hallows eve and the ninth circle)?

Perhaps they met when Alastor first got to hell and reader wanted to kill him at first but due to his old fashioned ways (the courting and such) along with him being quite sadistic when it comes to killing, she became more curious about him and it led to a relationship?

How would their relationship be? Would it become more of a one sided thing? Would she try to harm him after he comes back from his seven year absence? I’d love to see your interpretation on this!

~ 🕷️

Terrify Me~

(Anon, I promise I did not forget you! I have never seen these movies and call myself a horror fanatic! So I watched them all as I had the time to try and be better at this writing! I hope you enjoy and stay hydrated!) TW: Torture, Death, assault, Suggestive, Sad, Comfort

Hell was far more entertaining than back up on the earth, though yes, it sucked dying to those damn cops. This was where it was at. You had free reign to torture and torment those around you; the good deal was that people didn’t die permanently as long as you used the right tools. This led to such an easy time finding prey to stalk. It also allowed you to develop incredible powers as people begged and pleaded with you for deals on being free from torment. 

You were a terrifying creature, a black-and-white marionette doll with no voice box. Your movements and attention to detail got you through your life in hell. You were sadistic and cruel to whoever became your prey for the time you spent stalking them, hunting them, and slowly driving your enemy mad. You were so good at the job that people recognized you as an Overlord before even discussing it with you. Of course, who would dare get in your line of sight less you make them the next target? 

You didn’t care about hell’s silly hierarchy or games; you only cared about getting your fill. Your mind was on the prize of listening to beautiful screams and cries. Like a masterful puppet pulling strings, your looks did not portray your abilities all that well. You may have looked like the prey, but you were the top predator. You were deadly, mind, body, and soul.

Years had passed of your reign as the queen of torture till a new man arrived on the scene. Alastor, the radio demon, died not too long after your rise to fame and began to make waves in the underworld as he broadcasted screams of the damned and tortured. His show quickly became one of your favorites, and you would play it as you killed and murdered innocent demonic souls, hoping to make a deal with you for safety. 

Eventually, though, your love and passion for the radio demon's show turned to disgust and hate as he began to take your place in the world of torturing the damned. You had found a new prey to stalk, and it was someone who was equally matched. 

Your stalk began small, with just hushed whispers and knowledge of the man you wished to end. You found photos and some video of him, but it was grainy and distorted. He was a handsome man. He would be so beautiful strung up. As you thought of many ways to torture and abuse him, the next phase of your plan was in order.

Though you were an ‘overlord,’ you never attended meetings. However, you did start when it came to hunting Alastor. Watching his every move and emotion, you saw he was good at mimicking and faking just like you. Yet you had to say you were just that much better at it. When you two first officially met, you could visibly see the disdain on his face when you couldn’t speak. Like many powerful beings, Alastor puts weight on words, something you have no control over, always giving you the upper hand. 

You found every excuse to be around and speak to the man. Eager to move on to stage three of your plan to capture and torment this soul. Actively seeking Alastor out, you began to carry a notepad to speak with him. Small conversations that would sometimes run long. You enjoyed his voice, at least. You thought it would sound lovely, screaming in pain and agony. 

Though you had these sick, twisted thoughts about Alastor, you couldn’t help but be curious about the other feelings he elicited. You wanted to hear him sing, watch him smile, and enjoy his murder. His many good qualities interested you even more. You even sought medical help in the man before you as you didn’t understand these stirrings you had around him and him alone.

As the final plan commenced where you would capture and torture him, you were caught off guard by a single black rose being placed before you. Looking at it and holding it gently, you felt your undead heart flutter. This situation happened many times over and over.

You would go to kill or capture Alastor, and right there, every time you would execute your plan, he would have a trinket or doo dad for you to keep as your own. He began to touch you gently, shoulders, face, sides. Things started to shift in you; you were being courted, and it wasn’t until you experienced this love that you realized it happened: Alastor had you under his spell. 

Your plans of killing Alastor were long gone; now, you just wanted to have the joy of torturing others together. Come a year of your stupid game; you were now officially Alastor's partner in crime. It was charming how he always let you get the first stab and helped you stalk and scare others. He even taught you how to cook and kill the dead sinners. Things were well between you two, so well that domestic life began to become a norm for two sadistic sinners. Yet it all changed one day suddenly. You had been out on a kill someone you and Alastor had stalked for months. However, when you returned covered in blood and a dead body in tow, Alastor was nowhere to be found. You waited a year in that small home you two made, and he never appeared.

After seven long years, you returned to the top of the food chain; you were vicious and cold-hearted. Bloodthirsty. You allowed yourself to be blindsided by a man who couldn’t even say goodbye. Anger consumed you as the years passed, and you became known as the terrifier. You were deadly on a much larger scale than your first time on the scene. You were always longing for Alastor just to come back home. You were longing openly to all that you would kill him and make him pay.

While on the town killing, you heard a familiar buzz. Your blood ran cold as the familiar sound flooded your senses. Running to the old home, you two shared the life long forgotten: you hoped so badly to see him standing there as he once did. Would you kill him? Let him live? Fall into his arms again?

As you entered the house, he wasn’t there. It was still empty, still intact, the same as you left it six years ago. Sighing, you left and walked to the nearest brothel to kill some easy dirtbags. That's when you saw the shadow. Was this a game? Some sick, twisted game to make you think Alastor had come back for you.

Following the shadow, you grew more rabid and curious. Eventually, you found yourself atop a hill where the Hazbin Hotel sat. Walking in, it was silent; it was late at night, and you assumed everyone was asleep. Stepping further into the forbidden territory, you looked around cautiously. It was homey and bright, too bright for your liking, yet some of the decor looked like what you saw in your old home with Alastor.

You felt the presence before you heard it, and suddenly, a bright smile overtook your face. He was here; he was back. Seeing before you Alastor, the radio demon, your lost love, you took a step towards him, afraid it was fake. You don’t know what emotion overtook you the most. You wanted to tear him apart, yet seeing him there, everything felt so surreal. His smile, for once, was authentic, and as he opened his arms out for you and you rushed in, you heard the faintest, “Oh, how you still terrify me…”

[suzukiblu]

Another excerpt from the one where Tim is trans and Kon is not the father, plus a read-more for length.

“Bart’s really back too?” Tim asks, his voice not quite cracking. 

“Back and also . . . okay, not the right age, but the age he was the last time I saw him,” Kon says. “Which apparently he was not for you guys for a while, what the fuck.” 

“Long story,” Tim says, smiling helplessly. 

“Yeah, I know, it took Bart a whole thirty seconds to explain it to me,” Kon says wryly. 

“Have you seen . . . Cassie, yet?” Tim asks hesitantly, because he’s a fucking glutton for punishment, apparently. Because otherwise he’s just ignoring the elephant he coaxed into the room himself. 

“No,” Kon says, shaking his head. “Bart went to go drop in on the Titans, but Clark brought me straight here. He figured I’d wanna see you and Kyra first. We had a very confusing thirty-first century conversation while he was trying to ease me into the ‘everyone knows you’re gay for your best friend’ thing and gently break the news about me being a dad, and then Bart just started talking his ear off demanding baby updates. It was, uh, interesting. I guess he died before she was born, but Clark didn’t realize he’d known you were pregnant?” 

“Yeah,” Tim says, trying not to wince. “I mean–I didn’t know what to do at first, so I just took medical leave from the Titans for an ‘injury’, but I told Bart and Cassie, and then . . . well, then Bart died before I told the Kents. It was only a couple months or so–I didn’t want to make them feel worse, in case anything went wrong–but . . .” 

But that’s how it is, in their line of work. A couple months or so is more than enough time for another one of your best friends to die. 

“Please tell me you weren’t patrolling Gotham knocked up,” Kon says with a grimace. 

“. . . technically, yes, but not after I realized I was knocked up,” Tim says, smiling weakly. “Not for . . . more than a week or two, anyway.” 

Kon groans, dragging a hand back over his scalp. He looks pained. Tim pretends it’s because Kon thinks he’s an obsessed workaholic, and not because Kon knows him well enough to know how messed up he’d been to actually do that. 

“I was in the middle of a case,” he says like it’s any kind of a defense. “And it was investigative work, not . . . I called Dick in to handle the violent parts, okay?” 

“Small favors,” Kon says, then glances towards Kyra’s crib. “So you’re . . . retired? You hung up the cape?” 

“I’m not Robin anymore,” Tim says. “And I’m not patrolling or running missions. But I can’t–if he ever finds out, if he ever finds her, I can’t be retired. I need to be–ready.”

Kon’s jaw tightens. Tim wishes he’d never had to say that. Wishes the lie had been true. Wishes–

Wishes a lot of things, some for Kon’s sake but most for Kyra’s. 

And one or two for his own. 

“What’s the new codename, then?” Kon asks, still looking at the crib. Tim’s grateful that he’s not . . . Tim’s just grateful. Grateful that this is Kon, and he’s alive, and he’s here, and . . . and that he’s going to let him lie. 

He’s so fucking grateful for that. 

“I haven’t exactly bothered rebranding,” he says with forced levity. “I’m not going out with anyone else and I don’t need a rep. I’m not a vigilante anymore. I just need to be able to handle any problems that might come up.” 

“You know how Jimmy Olsen has a watch with a distress signal custom-tuned for Clark’s superhearing?” Kon says, glancing back at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. “I’m getting you one. I’m getting you five. And think up a name, man. Get yourself a color scheme and a bunch of weirdly-themed gadgets going. There’s a lot of other birds in the world.” 

Kon does have opinions about names, Tim supposes. For obvious reasons. 

That was why naming Kyra after him was the only thing he could’ve done, but also a terrible thing for him to have done. 

He really couldn’t have done anything else, though. He’d had to name her what he would’ve named her, if Kon had really been . . . if she’d really been . . .

He’d had to. 

That’s the best way to lie, after all: use the truth. 

“Okay,” Tim says. He might’ve been annoyed by the watch idea when they were younger. Felt like Kon didn’t think he could handle himself or was overestimating himself. He’s not annoyed now. Now it’s just one more contingency plan. 

He’d do anything for Kyra. Wearing a panic button that Kon would recognize the frequency of is the least of what he’d do for her. 

“Clark’ll help me get something around,” Kon says. “If, uh–especially if he thinks we’re, you know . . . together.” 

“I could make it,” Tim points out. “You don’t need to bother him with it.” 

“Clark knows the best frequencies to use. Plus then we can make sure it’s not gonna sound too much like Jimmy’s too,” Kon says, then flashes him a grin. “Besides, it’s more romantic if I’m the one giving it to you, right?”

“Fuck you,” Tim snorts, rolling his eyes as he shoves him, and Kon laughs and goes with it. Tim doesn’t know how to tell him he’s the best friend he’s ever had; the best friend he ever could have. He doesn’t know how to apologize enough for this. He doesn’t . . . 

Kyra makes a squeaky crooning sound from her crib, and Kon blinks, and–

Oh, Tim thinks, watching Kon’s pupils visibly dilate into pinpricks. Right. He . . . forgot. 

“What the fuck?” Kon says. 

“Some of her vocalizations are . . . like that,” Tim says carefully as Kon stares fixatedly at Kyra’s crib. She squeaks again. “Um–Clark reacted a little weirdly to some of them too, he said they were–” 

Kyra starts her usual melodic babbling, and Kon makes a low rumbling noise in response. Tim–blinks. Kon looks startled too, putting a hand to his chest. 

“Uh,” he says. “That was . . .” 

Kyra starts babbling louder, squealing for attention, and Tim rolls to his feet and heads over to her. She’s already reaching up before he gets to her, and squeaking excitedly for attention. She sounds like a little baby dolphin or something. Clark said there were resonances and undertones to her voice that human ears couldn’t pick up on, too. 

But of course Kon’s not human, is he. 

“Can I . . . hold her?” Kon asks awkwardly, stepping up beside Tim as he plucks Kyra up and staring intently at her. She dolphin-squeaks again. He bites his lip, clearly holding back whatever sound he wants to make in response; clearly holding back from reaching out for her. 

“Let me change her first,” Tim says. Her diaper’s definitely wet, and he doesn’t want her to get uncomfortable. 

“Can you show me how?” Kon asks, still looking a little awkward. “I haven’t been around too many babies, and I kinda just had to, like . . . improvise, the last time I was taking care of one.” 

“Uh–sure?” Tim blinks at him in confusion. “Why do you care, though?” 

“Dude, I’m not gonna be the kind of asshole co-parent who makes the one who got pregnant do all the diaper changes,” Kon says, looking dubious. “You should show me how to feed her, too. She’s on formula, right? It smells kinda like formula in here. And the kitchen did too.” 

“. . . um, okay,” Tim says, and almost bursts into tears on him again. Of course Kon would be like this, the bastard. “She–is, yeah. Clark synthesizes a mix for her in the Fortress. The AI says it’s better for her system than the store-bought stuff, and I had trouble producing enough milk to keep up with her appetite. Plus I kind of needed to get back on my meds as soon as I could anyway, so . . . I mean, they’re supposed to be safe, but I didn’t want to risk it with her physiology.” 

“Good, then I can help feed her,” Kon says. Tim blinks at him again, then just . . . takes Kyra to the changing table. She squeaks louder, clearly offended, and tries to reach for Kon. He trails after them, looking fascinated by her. 

Well . . . Kon’s never seen a Kryptonian baby before, much less heard one, so . . . of course he would be, Tim thinks. Kyra’s only a quarter-Kryptonian, obviously, but genetically . . . genetically, she might as well be half-Kon, and . . . 

And he’s never seen a Kryptonian baby. 

So it makes sense that he’d react strongly, yes. It’d make sense that he’d be a little bit fascinated. Clark had reacted to her too. He’d looked just as startled as Kon had, the first time he’d heard her chirp and squeak for attention, and then just as fascinated. 

Tim still wonders if Kyra’s the first time Clark’s ever fully felt any of the kind of instincts people normally feel, seeing a baby. Like–genetically speaking, he means. Instinctually. She’s seen more of him than Kon ever did, so . . . well, that might just be because they’ve been staying with the Kents, but Martha had mentioned how nice it was to have Clark around so often a few weeks ago, so . . . 

Well. Tim has some suspicions, that’s all. 

He wonders, very briefly–he wonders if he would respond to her like Kon and Clark do, if he ever–if he found out about–

He crushes that thought down into gravel and grinds it into his mental pavement. He doesn’t think about it again. Not at all. 

(Would it be worse if he did or didn’t, though? If he saw her, and was FASCINATED–

Tim stops thinking about it.)

He changes Kyra’s diaper, taking his time a bit so Kon can better observe the process, and Kyra fusses and chirps and screeches through it. Kon stays in a little bit inconveniently close, but Tim doesn’t say anything about it. Kon can do a lot more than just be a little bit inconvenient, after telling him he’d let him lie about this. He’ll deal with having to work around him. 

Kyra screeches louder. Kon makes a thrumming noise low in his throat, and she stops mid-screech and stares up at him intently. Her eyes are a human shade of blue–she got Tim’s eyes and hair, thank fuck, considering there’s no way he ever could’ve sold the alternative as being inherited from Kon–but Clark said there were . . . fractals, he’d described them as. He’d tried to explain, and then tried to draw the pattern, but it’s nothing Tim can see in her eyes for himself. 

But it’s a Kryptonian trait, apparently, so he is very, very grateful he’d chosen the lie he had. Even if the squeaking and chirping hadn’t clued Clark in, if he’d ever met her . . . 

Tim is very, very grateful he chose the lie he had. 

And even more grateful that Kon is willing to help him keep it.

[sammyvhs]

skin : 1.06 — jess’s sister.

“Oh my god. Sam!” Your heart almost stops right then and there, if there was just a little bit less oxygen in the room you’re sure you’d have fainted by now. Because Sam Winchester is here. Where you are. In the same room, despite him not knowing it.  

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” You can hear the grin in his voice and it makes you frown. Not because you’d wish he was upset, you wouldn’t wish anything bad on anyone, but because you haven’t so much as smiled since you saw your sister on the ceiling. 

“And you know what you can do with that ‘little Becky’ crap.” You can see them from the kitchen doorway, hugging, and you decide to take the deepest breath of your life before you make your way over. You’re not usually this soft spoken or shy but the greeting that leaves you is as broken as you feel.

Your name falls from Sam’s lips slowly. He’s processing it, before Becky moves back to invite both of them in. You wave at Dean too. 

You’re sure one of them is about to say something before you decide you don’t want to hear it and make your way to the kitchen where you’re sure they’ll all be gathering shortly. 

“She’s not doing so well, I was so surprised when she came here, wanted to be there for Zach. And he appreciates it, she’s been here for me.” It’s not hard to hear the distinct difference between pity and kindness. Beck’s kind, always has been. You didn’t know her much, mostly you hung out with Zach when you came to visit Jess, so much so that you both kept in contact when you were in your own university. 

All three of them walk into the kitchen. “Beer?” You ask them, already making your way to the cooler. Dean nods enthusiastically while Sam declines. You bring out three cups of water instead. Becky is already going through enough as it is, you tried helping as much as you can, cooking for her and letting people know what was going on. You even called her parents. She’s better now but she was a mess when she first heard.

“So tell us what happened.” Sam pries, his arms resting on the counter. Becky relays everything back to them, from the details of how Emily was found to the call to 911. “Maybe we could see the crime scene? Zach’s house.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, hands coming up to rest on her shoulder, more of a comfort than anything. Dean sounds surprised at Sam’s suggestion as he elaborates, “Dean’s a cop.”

“Detective actually. Bisbee, Arizona.” 

“He’s a cop?” You don’t even realize it’s your voice until everyone is looking over at you. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No, it’s— uh. Yeah, detective.” Who did nothing when your sister was burning on the ceiling? Who didn’t even talk with the police when they came to question you? Who didn’t offer you any kind of help when the cops said it was just a fire, no signs of foul play? 

You stay quiet after that and tell Beck you’ll hold down the fort while they go check out the crime scene. She leaves to get her keys and you’re standing there awkwardly behind the counter as the two men look over at each other. Eventually Dean clears his throat and says he’ll wait in the car.

“Hey.” His voice is gentler than you remember. Or maybe it’s the fact that you hardly remember it at all. Sam is… complicated. You know what you’re doing is wrong, holding onto someone else to help you grieve, someone who’s supposed to be grieving as well, but the truth is you can’t stop. You don’t know what else to do if not hope Sam will save you from drowning.

You repeat the sentiment as he walks over to you, both of you facing one another. “So, uh, I know I haven’t seen you in a while—”

“A month and a half. It’s been six weeks.” Since Jessica died.

“Right. I know. Me and Dean have just been busy.” When you don’t respond he sighs and keeps talking, “I mean, he just recently got on a break and when I left with him I’d join on cases occasionally, stuff like that. It helped take my mind off things.”

“Okay.”

“What— what about you? How are you holding up?” If you were a little stronger, you’d tell him to leave you alone. But he’s the only person you’ve wanted to see in weeks and he’s right goddamn here so instead you fling yourself into his arms and he hugs back just as tightly. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

You know he’s hurting too, you just wish you could both take each other's hurt away. 

[cozage]

Hi Coza.  How are you?  I’m so happy to see request open again!  Also wanted to let you know I LOVE The Daughter’s Return and the headcanon where some of the boys teach their partner how to fight!!!  Can I please have a Zoro x female reader, where the reader is saved by Zoro and joins the crew (idk what job or dream she has but it could be anything).  Zoro decides to teach her swordsmanship so she is able to defend herself.  I don’t know if any of that remotely makes sense.  But thank you and can’t wait to see it!! 💙🤍

A/N: HI FRIEND MISS YOU HOPE ALL IS WELL AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS LOVELY DISH OF ZORO Characters: Zoro x fem reader CW: Illusion to some spicy activities but nothing crazy Total word count: 1.1k

Sword Skills

You would’ve died if that green haired swordsman hadn’t stopped those men in the alleyway. They had cornered you, and suddenly he appeared out of nowhere to save you. 

And then he was gone again, racing back the way he came.

“Hey! Let me repay you!” you shouted. “Please! You just saved my life!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the man said, still walking briskly away from you. “I just took out some trash.”

“Please!” you begged. “Let me repay you! I have a sushi restaurant, let me make you a meal!”

That made him stop. He looked back at you curiously. “Got any booze there?”

You nodded. “Please, let me try and repay my debt.”

He sighed dramatically, but he turned and walked to you. “Lead the way.”

Ten hours later, he was still sitting in your shop. You had closed down early and the two of you had exchanged stories and laughed the entire night away. 

“It sounds like you have amazing adventures,” you said wistfully. “I wish I could do something that exciting.”

“Join our crew,” Zoro offered casually, taking another swig of alcohol.

You gave a dry laugh. “I couldn’t do that!”

“What’s keeping you here?”

You didn’t have an answer. You had no family, the job you worked was menial, and even the place you lived in was far too small for how much money you paid the owner. You had a few surface-level friends, but Zoro now knew more about you than any of your friends did. 

“I can’t fight,” you admitted. “I wouldn’t have anything to offer the crew.”

“Yeah right,” Zoro scoffed. “You can make sushi. You can prepare drinks. You can do plenty of things.”

“But I’d be a liability in fights. Which happens a lot in the pirate world.”

Zoro’s eye twitched in irritation. “You don’t have to be strong to be on our crew you know.”

“But I don’t know anything! Did you forget earlier today?”

Zoro clicked his tongue in disapproval, but he had to admit you were right. “Fine. I’ll teach you.”

You scowled at him in confusion. “Teach me what?”

“How to fight. Let’s go pick some swords out tomorrow before we get on the ship.”

“I’m not carrying around three swords.”

Zoro chuckled. “You couldn’t handle three swords yet. I’ve trained my whole life for three swords. With you, we’ll start with one.”

You nodded in satisfaction, a smile on your lips. “My flat is just upstairs, if you want to stay the night.”

Zoro shrugged. “Probably better for me to stay. Don’t know how to find my way back to the ship otherwise.” 

You were going to offer him the bed, but by the time you made it and went back out to the living room, he was already asleep on the couch. 

The next afternoon, you were staring at a giant ship with a lion-sun figurehead. 

“Ready?” Zoro asked. “You’ll just have to ask the captain, but Luffy is pretty accepting.”

You nodded, and the two of you walked onto the ship. 

You instantly found Luffy, the man Zoro had said was the captain. 

“Hi Luffy, I was wondering-”

“Who the hell are you?” the captain asked, looking at you with big, black eyes.. “Are you here to steal our stuff?”

You were taken aback by his question, and it took you a few moments to respond.

“Er..no. I was hoping-”

He cut you off again. “Awesome! That’s good. So, do you wanna join my crew? I’m going to be the King of the Pirates!”

He was direct, you had to give him that. 

“I would, actually. If that’s alright with you.”

Luffy broke into a wide grin. “Awesome! Nami and Robin will be excited to have another girl on the ship! Welcome aboard!”

And then he wandered off, as if nothing had happened. 

“Told you it’d be easy.” Zoro had a knowing smirk on his face. “Ready for your first lesson?”

“I suppose.”

“Alright then,” he said. “Raise your sword.”

You tried. You had to grip it with two hands, and it was surprisingly more heavy than you anticipated when you swung it. 

“The weight distribution always surprises people,” Zoro explained. He walked over to you, slightly adjusting your grip and your stance. 

“There, try that.” He took a step away from you. “Give it a few swings.”

You swung a few times. You had to admit, this stance was easier, but it was still extremely draining. 

“We’ll work up to a real sword. The next time you touch this, it’ll be a thousand times easier. But remember that feeling. Remember that struggle.”

And then he swapped your real sword for a fake, wooden sword that was much easier to swing. 

He trained you hard, but he also made sure you understood why you were doing certain exercises. He explained what muscles you were working, showed you what moves you would be able to do, and always gave the reasoning as to why a workout was important. 

He was good at this, explaining how things worked and why muscles need to be built. He worked you hard; only stopping when you collapsed with bruises littered across your body. 

But he carried you back to bed every night. And eventually, he started carrying you back to his bed every night. The two of you would sleep intertwined, bruises and cuts intermingling with one another. 

Some nights, he gave you another kind of workout, the two of you training all night long and sleeping all day. It was a trade off you were happy to do, though you often ended the night with far more bruises than you started with. 

Other night, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, caressing your body as if it was the most delicate thing he had ever seen. This was the duality of Roronoa Zoro, and you loved that you were able to see both sides of him like this. 

After a month of various training exercises, he handed you back your sword. 

You were hesitant to take it. You didn’t feel ready. You were still the same girl who would get beaten in an alleyway, weren’t you? Surely you couldn’t have progressed that much. But you could see the confidence in Zoro’s eyes, urging you on. 

You grabbed the hilt and swiftly pulled out the sword, ready to start your next phase of training. 

[dozing-marshmallow]

Pls i NEED more Chris McLean x reader. I NEED😭🙏 ive read everything of him on here😓

So pretty please something like chris mclean x wife reader and like, the whole tdi cast gets to meet her bc they didnt believe that Chris had a wife at first?😇

TRUST ME WHEN I SAY I feel the exact same way😫 I love Chris so much and it’s such a huge pleasure that I can write for him while having other people who love him enjoy it as welllll. I will be writing him for a very long time so you can always expect something new evolved around him to come up ;)<3

CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! READER ONE SHOT

Having your daily hug with Chris, the tender moment reminds you of what he told you earlier.

“Were you being serious when you told me the kids laughed at you when you told them you were married?"

“Mhmm.” he responds from underneath you,“They called it a sick joke and told me that stand up comedy was way out my league.”

“Aw darling.” you kiss his forehead,“I’m guessing you’re gonna ask a favour for me to stop by to prove them wrong?”

He raises an eyebrow,“What do you mean? Stand up comedy is in my league. I just don’t prefer it, doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.”

He can be so silly sometimes,“I meant your marital status, baby.”

“Oh, yeah...” he holds onto your wrists,“Please?”

You let your body relax completely on top of his, still smiling,“Your wish is my command.”

“Aw what’s the matter, McLean? Couldn’t your wife make it?” Duncan was the first to pick up on ridiculing Chris, eyes still puffy from his chronic cries of laughter from last night. On another circumstance, Chris would’ve been fuming, had he not have reason to smirk.

“How sweet of you to worry, Duncan!” the host begins off, clasping his hands,“But she’s made it in one piece!”

On cue, you walk into the mess hall, linking your arm with Chris’,“Hii everyone! So happy to finally see you all in person!”

All conversation died.

Everyone turns to you.

This woman they’ve never seen before... 

His... His wife?

Were they hearing that right?

No way... He was being serious?

Chris was rolling on the inside at the shared alike look of being slapped spread across the contestants, especially of the mocking kind.

“I...didn’t know you had enough space in your heart to love someone else!” Beth’s the first to break out of her ice of shock to chirp.

“Surprised?” Chris chuckled, allowing you to introduce yourself, which was not what you guys decided.

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N)! This hot mess’ wife...” turns out improvising in front of teenagers wasn’t as fun as it sounded,“Sorry, I’m...not too good with words, so...help yourself to these cupcakes I made for you guys. I made them as a way to say how huge of a pleasure it is to meet you all!”

As you turn around to unwrap the trays, Leshawna clears her throat to privately address the cohort,"One of two things are gonna happen. One, those cupcakes are filled with maggots and hair. Or two, it's the first actual food we're gettin’ on this set."

Everybody nods in agreement.

They were right to inspect the wrapping and texture with their noses and eyes.

Yet didn’t expect to have the flavour of delicate buttermilk crumble on their tongues.

Oh my God...

Maybe they were deprived from having treats so long on the show, but it was unanimously categorised as a whole new delicious nonetheless.

The punk delinquent scoffs over,“Yeah... I’m not buying that’s his wife.”

“That evil maniac with a permanent smile is probably holding her hostage!” The ginger geek dramatically pinpoints.

“I can see why, these are too die for!” Owen squeaks, scoffing down an entire cupcake, wrapping included, not comprehending what situation it would mean for you if you really were abducted.

“Hm... Maybe he’s paying her.” Gwen suggests alternatively after taking another glance at you: it was your arm around him. Too touchy to be forced...

“I’d understand if he was hot like me, but he’s not even halfway there! Where would he find someone willing to do all that for him? No amount of money should convince anyone to ever lose their dignity for the likes of him." Justin criticises out of his internal debate of skipping the cupcakes or not.

“You’d be shocked if you’ve seen the fansite.” Noah opposes like it was the most known thing.

Speaking of which,"Sierra.” Heather directs, taking sudden control of the situation and everyone’s eyes to peel towards the superfan whose mouth was staining in the same dye as her magenta hair, perking up from her snacking at the mention of her name,“You know everything about everybody. Say, is Chris paying that woman to pretend to be married to him for laughs?"

The girl whose lifeline was Total Drama quickly swallows the last portion of her cupcake to appease her idols with a packed answer,“Oh, no! It’s all true! Unfortunately. Those two got married way before Total Drama was aired. A lot's happened... My mom waited years for Chris to propose to her and there he goes, chasing after that nobody! Do you have any idea how painful it is to see my mom’s husband having an affair? (Y/N) is nothing but a block of concrete, blinding Chris from seeing his true soulmate! A.k.a my mom!” The last few sentences gradually grazed with personal prejudice, but not enough to throw the next cupcake away.

“Wait, but if Chris did get married to your mother... Wouldn’t that make you his stepdaughter-?“ Alejandro posited, already having a hard time imagining Chris take that role biologically.

"So Chris,” Cody interrupts the impending awkward ambient Alejandro’s phrasing would bring, steering the conversation back, still bewildered,“...really does have a wife."

Bridgette takes her slo mo time in grabbing another frosted vanilla good, rethinking, the same man that laughed at their pain,"I...honestly don't know how to feel about that."

"Huuu... I feel like I went overboard with cupcakes, Chris!” you freak out to your husband, fidgeting with the sleeves of your turtleneck,“Why did I pick to make something so childish? I should've picked something more formal... Like a dish from my home country..."

"Relaaaaax, no one else is thinking about that." Chris assured, biting into one of your delicacies.

You continued to murmur on,“I wanted to make something universal, a collection of sweets so in case one likes a certain flavour more than others... I thought teenagers around here liked cupcakes... I feel like such a fool... I hope they don’t think I see them as childish...”

He grabs one and holds it horizontally to your lips, painting them yellow,“It’s not just teenagers that like them, (Y/N). Besides, they are children. Children like things that are childish.”

That’s true... Your paranoia’s sunk,“Well... They seem to be enjoying themselves. I’ve been worrying for nothing.” you smile, drawing your finger on his stubble to take for licking,“You had some icing there.”

Turns out, you were really nice.

The angel to Chris’ devil.

The sun to Chris' moon.

The calm to Chris’ energetic.

“So (Y/N)... I just...have a quick question on behalf of everyone else.” The CIT girl shields her mouth with her hand, like she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Of course, Courtney. Whatever would you like to know?” you welcome her, all kinds of possible questions cloud your mind.

She tightens your shoulders in her palms,“What the hell do you see in Chris?”

...You expected that one,“Why, I see a strong, handsome, hilarious man. A goal-driven, deep down caring, loving, in need of love man.”

Now the only true thing she heard was “goal-driven”- to kill them as spiritually as possible. Maybe even physically.

"You're not brainwashed, are you?" Her eyes widened like your answer had tossed her deeper in her horror.

"Get her to blink two times in a row if she needs help!" Tyler shouts, unintentionally defeating the purpose of being discreet from his clean intention.

"Hm?” Teenagers are so funny!,“It's not brainwash when it's love! After all, wouldn't you say you've found yourself in love with someone you never thought you'd be with?" You smile warmly at the type A when the butterflies fluttered an external reaction across her freckled face.

"Th-That's different!” she impulsively shrieked before closing her mouth in embarrassment. She looks around, and after making sure no one was judging her, she continues speaking, back to her whispering voice,“That’s Duncan. This is Chris.”

“Well, we both seem to have a type for the ones that went to jail, don’t we?” you wittily mention, giving her a wink to the similar parallel.

Leaving Courtney to her common dynamics contemplation, there was no better timing for Owen to ask if you had any more cupcakes to give.

“I’m so happy you liked them! I’ll tell you what, I can make more and send them to you."

“Don’t get too flattered. Bed crusher there would eat anything, even things you can’t call food.” The overruling antagonist scornfully gestures, her hair as black as her heart.

“...Ah, right.” you shouldn't have thought so highly of yourself over baking. To Owen, they probably weren’t good, just something to give his appetite.

“Well... That's not entirely true...” The foodie looks to the side uncomfortably for a moment from Heather’s harsh perspective,“Having eaten a lot of things gives me a solid judgement on a variety of tastes. With that said, I’d specifically be really happy to eat (Y/N)’s baked cupcakes again. You can't buy that kind of quality!"

Aw! “Thanks, Owen!” it’s no mystery why everyone was in his support back first season!

“You didn’t use any store bought cake mix, did you?” DJ asks, his naturally kind pitch of voice crunching up an otherwise accusing delivery his words may have played.

“Nope! If I was gonna have half of the ingredients already done for me, I may as well have just ordered the finish product.” the truth radiates through your magnetism, not as magnetizing as your husband, smothering you away in his arms.

For some reason, no one said anything right away. Like taking an exam, silence had scattered among these group of teenagers.

"I'm convinced she has Stockholm syndrome."

Up till Harold breaks it.

"Stockholm syndrome?! Come onn, you know that’s not a real thing!” Lindsay asserted, turning to Beth,“Is it a real thing?"

The nice-hearted nerd smacks a hand to her forehead. Rather than finding humor in uninformed Lindsay, Trent finds his eyes trapped on the sight of Chris’ hand holding onto yours, fingers locked, palms resting. Above all his faults, Chris...still had you.

That kind of love...hard to find, lucky to have.

[chaotic-super]

Joining The Superfriends - Chapter 28

AO3 Link

“Alex, where’s Lena?”

Alex pushes back on Kara’s shoulders, stopping her from trying to sit up and get out of bed for at least the sixth time in less than two hours. “She’s got a lot on her plate and I think she needs some time to come to terms with everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“She sat by your side for five days straight, Kara. She spent most of that time doing nothing but worrying about you and hasn’t taken the time to properly process what happened with and to Lex. Her brother just died and that will impact her life massively.”

Kara closes her eyes, trying to get the image of Lex’s corpse out of her mind. “Yeah. That’s a lot. Is she mad at me?”

Alex looks down at her sister’s panic-stricken face. “No, no, of course not. She understands, and she actually told Kelly that she’s grateful it wasn’t her that did it, even if she hates that you now have to carry that burden.”

“So she’ll be back?”

“I’m sure she will be,” Alex confirms. “I’ll text her soon and see if she has an approximate time, but hopefully she’s decided to get some proper sleep in her own bed. She’s been pushing herself to the limit to be with you while you were unconscious. I think it’s probably all just caught up with her now.”

Kara nods slowly. “I get it. I still wish she was here, but she should look after herself.”

“It’s ok to want that, Kara. There’s no shame in wanting things. It’s only when you push someone else’s feelings aside for your own that you’re being selfish. Hell, sometimes we deserve to be selfish. As much as I want to push you to do that right now, Lena needs some time. She really does.”

“Ok…just,” Kara pauses momentarily, trying to find a nice way to word her next sentence. “Can you keep everyone away from me for a while?”

“Everyone or Mon-El?” Alex raises her eyebrow at her little sister.

“Both. I don’t want to deal with Mon-El right now and I don’t want to be interrogated by Winn either. I just want to rest for a while and try to wrap my head around everything.”

Alex squeezes her hand softly. “Ok, I can do that. I’ll tell everyone you’ve gone back to sleep. You should actually do that.”

Shaking her head, Kara snuggles into her pillow. “I don’t know if I can do that. I’m pretty achy and my mind is just everywhere. “I might read for a while. Can I borrow your tablet?”

Alex grabs it and swipes away all her open windows before handing it over. “I’ll leave you to it because you’re obviously not ready to talk yet and I’d be wasting my breath trying to get you to. Shout me if you feel weird. We’re pretty sure the kryptonite is all out of your system, but you’re not fully healed yet. It’s important you do.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to go and entertain everyone so they stay out of your hair. You owe me one.”

“I think I owe you more than one.” Kara smiles at her softly. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

“Always,” Alex promises, backing out of the med bay.

“Oh, and Alex?”

“Yes, Kara?” Alex sighs fondly.

Kara clutches the tablet to her chest as she peers over at her sister, her hair falling in her eyes and blocking her vision somewhat. “Are Sam and Jack coming?”

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know, why?”

“Lena should have her friends here to support her. Especially now. I know Sam works at Luthor Corp, so there’s probably a huge mess for her to clean up now Lex is gone, but surely at least Jack can come?”

“I’ll give them a call.”

“Thank you.”

“Now rest.”

“Ok,” Kara replies softly as Alex finally retreats out of the room.

With her sister gone, Kara leans back, not even turning on the tablet in her grasp, too preoccupied thinking about the mess Lena has to deal with now. Between Lex’s death, the destruction of the city, the deaths of all the civilians and dealing with Luthor Corp, Lena’s plate is so full it’s overflowing. She just hopes Lena will let her be there for her through it all.

-

Lena pulls the duvet around herself more firmly, then takes a moment to flick her damp hair out of her face. The shower was nice, but trying to reach over her shoulder to coat her healing wounds with anti-septic cream afterwards wasn’t. It’s done now though, even if it did wear her out. She really wants to be back at Kara’s side, but now that she knows she’s awake, she doesn’t feel as panicked. There’s not the same pit in her stomach or the little voice in her head telling her that Kara might not wake up. She just feels lighter. Lighter but tired.

She knew as soon as she made it back home that she would end up in bed for a while before going back to the Tower. She just needs a breather. It doesn’t help that she knows that when she does go back, she has to fight against Kara’s ex, who apparently hates her. The revelation that Kara once bitched about her family is neither here nor there. She couldn’t care less really. After all, who hasn’t bitched about her family at this point? What bothers her is that Kara’s ex decided it was alright to try and start a fight over Kara’s bed right after she just woke up from a five-day coma. That she can’t overlook.

Personally, she’s got nothing against the guy. He can say or think whatever he wants about her. What he can’t do is make Kara’s life harder or make her uncomfortable in any way. Who even comes to visit their ex after a near-death experience anyway? Someone who wants to worm their way back into her life, that’s who. Like hell is Lena going to sit back and let that happen. They might not have had the chance to make it official yet, but she’s pretty damn sure they’re at least seventy percent of the way there.

Allowing her eyes to droop closed without resisting the urge to sleep for the first time in days is a kind of bliss Lena can’t describe. It’s been long awaited just as much as she dreaded it. She doesn’t get to enjoy it for long though because she barely lasts five minutes before she’s off into the dream world.

Her mistake comes with not silencing her phone before going to bed. She should know by now that if Sam and Jack can make her life worse in any way, they’ll do it.

“What do you want?” A groggy Lena answers her phone, pissed that she’s barely slept at all and she’s already been awoken.

“That’s not very nice.”

“What’s not very nice is being awake for almost five days straight with only crappy naps between. I just got to sleep. I’ll call you back when I wake up again. Good night.”

“Oh no, the fuck you don’t.” Sam harshens her voice. “As much as I hate that you’ve barely slept, this is important.”

Lena huffs and rolls onto her back, kicking her legs against her mattress like a stroppy teen. “But Sam…” She whines.

“No, this has to do with Luthor Corp. Lex’s death certificate has been filed now. That means that legally, the company is now yours. You just have to come and sign on the dotted line. You’ll have to come to Metropolis though.”

“And you couldn’t have waited a little longer for me to sleep before asking me to come to another city in the midst of nobody being able to get anywhere due to the fact that National City’s airport literally got flattened by the weird-ass leg of Lex’s spider ship?”

Sam clicks her tongue and sighs down the line at her. “Lena, I appreciate that you’re not having a good time right now, especially knowing your brother is dead. I know you cared for him even after everything. I’m sorry for that. I’ve bought you as much time as I could with Luthor Corp, but there’s already talks of your mother trying to find a way to get her hands on the company.”

“Let her have it, Sam. I don’t want it.”

“I know you don’t, but you can’t let your mother have that power. She’s just as bad as Lex was, and look at what he did.”

Sam can practically hear Lena’s brain whirring down the phone.

“I just don’t know if I can do it, Sam?”

“Not even just for as long as it would take for you to find someone you trust to run it?”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t run it, you know that. I have Ruby.”

Lena sits up with a frown, propping her pillow up behind her haphazardly. “I know. I just…I don’t know how to run a company. I can build things, I can fix things, I can give a mean right hook. I don’t know how to run a company.”

Lena can hear the shuffle through the line as Sam shrugs. “That’s why you’ll have help. I know you’ve got a damn good team on your side back in National City, but you’ve also got a pretty good one here too. I’m with you, Jack is with you, and you’ve got a whole team of literal superheroes with you. You can change the world for the better now, Lena. Don’t waste your shot.”

There’s a brief silence on the line.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure out how to get to Metropolis as soon as possible.”

“I’d say just use Super-air. I can say first-hand that she offers a first-class experience.”

Lena clears her throat. “I’ll ask J’onn. She’s…”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad. She only just woke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Lena sniffs quietly. “I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you too, Sammy.”

-

Lena rubs her eyes, still awfully tired but feeling at least a little better compared to when she went to sleep.

Grabbing her phone, she sees that she managed to get almost six hours of rest, and that’s much more than she was expecting, so she is happy with that. She just has to get through her list of things to do that’s a mile long.

She squints at her notifications and sees that she has a handful of texts to answer, most of them from the Superfriends just checking in with a couple from Jack too, telling her that if she doesn’t let him know when she’s in town so they can get drunk together, he’ll throw a hissy fit.

Alex’s text sits right on top, so she figures she can answer her and she’ll let the others know. Jack takes days to answer texts so he can’t say anything about a bit of tardiness in responding. She can handle him later.

She drags herself out of bed, stretching out her stiff back and dripping her jaw to let out a yawn that makes her jaw crack. “Ok, so I just have to make sure Kara is alright, potentially fight her ex and take over an entire company before coming up with a way to help rebuild the city. That’s only four things. That’s not too bad.” Staring at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, she sighs. “Who am I kidding? This is going to be hell.”

Lena rolls her shoulders, trying to get rid of some of the stiffness there, and then she nods at herself in the mirror. She’s got work to do and moping won’t help anyone.

She gets dressed as quickly as possible before brushing her teeth and washing her face. The quicker she can get to the Tower, the faster she can get things rolling, and the quicker it’ll all be over.

As quick as she wants to get there and sort everything though, she still has a lot on her mind and she needs to take a moment to take everything in. Walking to the Tower, she stares at the damage left on the city. Damage that definitely wasn’t there when she moved here. Damage that she is partly responsible for. If she hadn’t moved here then none of this would have happened. If she hadn’t moved here, her brother would be alive. If she hadn’t moved here, Kara wouldn’t be hurt.

“Lena, I’m so glad you’re here.” Nia bumps into her as she walks out of the front door to J’onn’s P.I. firm. “Everyone is upstairs. We’ve spent the past hour or so figuring out the best way to help with the clean-up of the city. I think your big brain could do us some major favours in figuring out the best place to start.”

“Sure.” Lena nods. “Where are you going?”

“Just grabbing coffee and breakfast. You want me to grab you some too?”

Lena forces a smile onto her face. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.”

Nia grimaces. “I absolutely won’t do that. Alex gave me a very colourful threat because she’s caffeine-deprived and hangry. It’s better for everyone if I hurry.”

Lena chuckles and the fake smile turns genuine, just for a second. “That’s probably for the best then. See you soon.”

“Bye.” Nia waves, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Lena’s shoulders sag as she wanders across the room and watches the elevator appear before her, glancing behind her for a moment before she steps inside.

Peering through the elevator doors, she realizes it’s in full view of the front window. She should really tell J’onn to do something about that. Anyone could walk past at the wrong moment and see something none of them want some randomer to see.

She sinks against the back wall as the doors close, letting her eyes fall shut as the gentle motion reminds her of the sleep she missed out on. Now, she kind of wishes she’d tried to get a couple more hours of rest before coming in, but she figures there’s no rest for the sister of the wicked.

Alex and Kelly are sitting in the main area as she steps out into the space. “Hey.”

“Hey, how are you?” Kelly asks, nothing but kindness and sincerity written across her face.

“I’ve been better. I managed to get a few hours of sleep so I’ll count that as a win.”

Alex frowns at her, her arms folding. “Why am I sensing a but?”

“Because there is one.” She shrugs. “With Lex dead, Luthor Corp is now mine, as we already knew. What I didn’t realize was how little time I have to get over to Metropolis to handle it all.”

Kelly’s eyebrows lift in shock. “You have to go to Metropolis?”

“Unfortunately.” Lena sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, stressed at the very thought. “I’ll have to see if J’onn is willing to fly me over. Sam called and told me there’s already talk of my mother trying to take the company. The only way I can stop that is by going over and making the switch official. My mother might not be quite as bad as Lex, but I can assure you that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She’s trouble and shouldn’t be in control of a multi-million dollar company.”

Alex uses her foot to nudge out the seat beside her. “Come on.”

Lena does as she’s told, plopping down gracelessly. “Sam is doing everything she can to buy me time; that’s pretty much all she’s been doing for the past few days. Luckily, she’s CFO, or else I’d have had to try and find a way to Metropolis even sooner.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

She shakes her head softly. “I doubt it. Just…take my mind off it, just for a few more hours. I saw Nia downstairs, and she said you’re trying to figure out how to handle the destruction. Let me see your plan. I can help with that.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Trading bureaucratic destruction for city-wide physical destruction doesn’t seem healthy.” Alex challenges.

“And running around the city in masks fighting bad guys with alien technology is the healthiest thing a person can do, right?”

“Touché.”

“Can you guys go ten minutes without arguing?” Kara staggers into the room, one arm wrapped protectively around her middle and the other using the doorframe to help her balance.

Alex shoots up to her feet immediately, rushing to her side, Lena not far behind. “You’re not meant to be up yet. You’re still healing.”

“But Alex—”

“No buts, you need more rest and more sunlight. You might be out of the woods kryptonite-wise, but you still have some pretty gnarly wounds that need to heal. Look at you, you can barely stand without wincing.”

Kara pouts at her, hoping to win her sister over, but all she gets is a hard stare in response. That’s not going to get her anywhere. She changes tactics, pouting over at Lena, hoping to garner her sympathy and protection. “I just want to come and sit with you guys.”

Lena shakes her head. “We won’t be long. Why don’t you head back to the med bay and we’ll come and join you soon?”

“If you’re going to be done soon, I might as well just hang out with you guys until you’re done.” Kara bats away the two sets of hands attempting to steady her and usher her back towards the med bay.

Shaking her head, Lena sighs. “Come on. We’ll be ten minutes tops, and we’re just doing boring planning anyway. We just want you to heal as quickly as possible.”

“I know.” Kara swallows harshly and lowers her voice, talking through gritted teeth. “I just don’t think I can heal very well when my ex is busy talking shit about all of our choices right outside the med bay where I have to listen to him bitching.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Of course he is. Kara, what did you ever see in him?”

“A partner whose nose I wouldn’t accidentally break.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lena’s eyes widen.

“It doesn’t matter.” Alex waves her off nonchalantly. “I’ll handle it, Kara. I’ll walk you back to bed and then you won’t have to worry about him, ok?”

Kara’s shoulders drop and she catches Lena’s hand. “Will you come sit with me when you’re done?”

“Of course I will. I won’t be long.”

Kara’s pout disappears, her face brightening like she’s just stepped outside on a sunny day.  “Good, see you soon.”

“See you.” Lena waves her off, worry building in her chest when she notices just how unsteady she is on her feet as Alex guides her away.

-

“Just keep your mouth shut, Mon-El. Now isn’t the time for you to come waltzing in acting like you know everything because you’ve been in the future for a whole five minutes.”

“I just happen to have read the history books, and I know that Luthors just happen to be on the wrong side of history.” Mon-El’s indignant tone cuts through the air and into the med bay, making sure that Kara won’t get any rest today.

“I’ve literally never seen you read a book before.” Winn’s confused voice at least brings a smile to Kara’s face. She’s missed the guy, even if he can be a little annoying and is terrible at keeping her secrets.

Mon-El’s offended gasp rids her of that momentary joy. “I once read Romeo and Juliet. Just ask Kara. There’s your proof, and so what if I haven’t read any history books? I still know that the Luthors aren’t good people. Why are you people acting so dense?”

A loud slap rings through the air, the sound making Kara wince. That was definitely an Alex slap, and Alex slaps are spicy, to say the least.

“What was that for?”

“For one, I know you’ve read that book, and you defiled it by writing nonsense all over the pages, and secondly, we’re not the ones acting dense. You’re the one being prejudiced against someone you don’t even know. You’d think the prince of Daxam would know that your family doesn’t define your beliefs or your morals. That is unless you’ve gone back to your slave-owning ways?”

Kara can just picture him shaking his head cartoonishly and backing away from Alex, trying to escape her harsh words. “Of course not! I would never do that.”

“But you did. Does that mean you’re still a bad person? Does that mean that because of who you are, you’ll forever be a bad person?”

“No! I’m good! I saved the world.”

“So has Lena, but you’re too busy calling her out for actions that aren’t hers that you can’t see that you’re only hurting the people around you. Kara is still healing. She got very badly hurt by Lex and Lena is the one that saved her. Lena protected her. Lena is the reason she’s still alive. You’re just the person stressing her out so badly that she keeps leaving the med bay just to get away from you and your incessant whining. Pull yourself together before I send you back to the future by whatever means necessary.”

If Kara were a betting woman, she’d put money down saying that Mon-El is quivering in a corner looking like a kicked puppy right now. She’s not entirely sure what she saw in him before. Sure, he was kind of like having an excitable border collie around. Cute at times but so energetic and chaotic, he leaves nothing but damage in his wake. Unfortunately, what she saw was his potential to serve the herd. The herd being the people of Earth.

“Let me go apologize to her.” She hears him say, sadness coating his words.

“She does deserve an apology, but you’ve kept her up long enough with your bullshit. Move into another room away from here where you’re bothering her and let her rest. She needs to sleep and recover, not listen to you acting like you know best for everyone around you.”

“But—”

“No buts, get your ass up and get out of here. I don’t care where you go, but you’re not going anywhere near either Kara or Lena unless you have my permission. Understand?”

A silence follows that makes Kara nervous, anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Alex clears her throat. “Understand?”

“I got it.”

“Good.”

Footsteps echo as the three of them filter out of the room and further away from her until she can’t hear them at all. She kind of wishes that her powers weren’t still gone. Clearly, the kryptonite caused a lot of damage if she solar flared, but she’s kind of grateful. There’s no impending crisis right now, which means she has to be on edge without them. She can just enjoy the moment without overthinking it too much. That’s something she doesn’t get to have often, and she intends on basking in the glow of not having the pressure of the world sitting heavy on her shoulders.

She lets her eyes slip closed, but just as she starts drifting off with the warmth of the sunlamps keeping her nice and toasty, she hears footsteps return and with those footsteps comes dread. She knows those footsteps.

“Kara?”

She keeps her eyes closed, praying he’ll get the hint and leave her alone.

“Psst, Kara.” He tries again.

Still, she makes a conscious effort to keep her face relaxed to not give away the fact that she’s awake.

Then her shoulder is grasped and she’s being shaken hard enough to make her gasp out in pain, her eyes finally popping open.

“Ah, fuck!” She grabs at her wounds, now thoroughly pissed and in pain. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I just need to talk to you.”

“Like fuck you do.” Lena’s sharp voice comes from the doorway. “I don’t know what was running through your obviously pea-sized brain, probably nothing of substance, but you’ve got some wires crossed. You just hurt her and woke her up for no good reason when I know that Alex just kicked you out of this part of the Tower.”

“With all due respect, this is between Kara and me.”

“Kara and I.”

“What?”

“It’s Kara and I, not Kara and me. If you’re going to start talking shit, at least be grammatically correct about it.”

Mon-El’s fists clench, and he turns fully towards her, standing directly between Kara and Lena. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You’re just like him, and you’re only going to hurt her.”

Lena’s eyebrow raises, her face nothing short of icy. “Like you just did?”

“You didn’t see what happened. She’s not hurt because of me.”

“So she just yelped in pain from what? Just lying there?”

“Must have done.”

Lena shakes her head as she lets out a short laugh. This guy is a piece of work. She takes a step back and turns her head towards the door. “Alex!” She shouts at the top of her voice.

Just like that, Mon-El turns white. He might be a lot stronger than the average human, but if there’s one person he’s scared of, it’s Alex, and he just went behind her back to do exactly what he’d been told not to do.

Lena can hear Alex’s hurried footsteps getting louder and louder as she approaches, drawing closer rapidly as Mon-El gets visibly more anxious with each step, his hands gripped into tight fists. At the same time, his eyes dart around the room in an attempt to find a way to escape.

Alex storms into the room, not knowing what’s waiting for her but intuitive enough to know that whatever it is, it’s not good.

She spots Mon-El facing off with Lena and knows right then and there that this isn’t going to be a pretty fight. “Who wants to tell me what in the actual fuck is going on?”

Lena clenches her jaw, remaining silent. She wants to see what kind of shit this complete and utter asshole is about to spout.

Mon-El does something Lena wasn’t expecting. He squares up to Alex, his shoulder back, his spine straightening and his fists held firm at his sides as he glares down at the redhead. “She’s dangerous and Kara’s not safe around her. I was doing what I had to in order to keep her safe. She can’t be here if you’re allowing someone like that to be around her. Look at what her brother just did; she could kill her at any moment, and the only one to blame would be you because you let it happen.”

Alex doesn’t hesitate to react. Using her Hand of the soldier, she summons up a boxing glove lined with lead and hits him squarely in the face, knocking him back and right onto his ass.

He cries out in anguish when blood starts to pour from his nose, not broken, unfortunately. “What the fuck, Alex?”

“Stay the hell away from us, Mon-El. I told you to stay away, and yet here you are, coming back where you’re not welcome to accuse someone you don’t know of something they’re incapable of doing. You’re a mess. You’re dangerous. Get the fuck out.”

“You’re not going to ask her what happened?” He throws his hands in the air. “You don’t want to ask her what she did? You seem to like attacking me, but you haven’t even got the full story.”

Alex sighs, dematerializes the boxing glove and folds her arms before turning to Lena. “Is there more to the story, Lena?”

“Yes, he grabbed her and hurt her.”

Alex’s eyes darken instantaneously. “Brainy!”

The Coluan comes scuttling in quickly. “How can I help?”

“Get this piece of shit out of the Tower now before I kill him.”

There’s the barest hint of a nod before Brainy pulls Mon-El off the floor and ushers him to the door.

The Daxamite doesn’t go easily though, pushing back against Brainy’s hands to turn back. “I was getting her out of here because you’re not keeping her safe.”

“I suggest you leave very quickly because I estimate that the next weapon Alex materializes won’t be a boxing glove.”

Mon-El snarls before huffing his way out the door, barely turning his head to spit out one last line as he leaves. “You’re going to regret this when she turns out to be exactly like her brother, just you wait.”

Lena shakes her head at the man, infuriated by his saviour complex and need to villainize her when he doesn’t know a single thing about her other than her last name.

Her gaze meets the side of Alex’s face and she’s shocked by the amount of pure rage she sees there before she remembers that she just told her that he hurt Kara. Kara, who she needs to check on. She turns quickly, rushing to Kara’s side, panicking as she finds the woman on her side, her back to the door. She’s curled in on herself, her hands thrown over her ears protectively and her knees to her chest.

“Kara?” Lena round the bed, crouching next to her so her eyes are in line with Kara’s closed ones. They’re shut so tightly little lines are spreading across her face from the force.

She reaches out carefully, her fingertips just barely brushing against the cowering woman’s wrist. The tiniest bit of pressure causes her to rear back and pretty much fling herself off the bed, landing on the floor in a pile of useless limbs.

“Kara!” Lena cries out, rushing to get to her side. Her eyes instantly rake over Kara’s body in search of injuries. “Are you ok?”

Kara’s hands remain over her ears, but now her eyes are wide open, looking like they might pop right out of her skull at any moment.

“Kara, you’re ok. I promise you, you’re ok.” Lena creeps closer, afraid to touch her in case she reacts badly again.

Alex sprints into the room, and it takes Lena a second to realize that she must have made sure that Mon-El really left this time, or else she would have been in here with them a lot sooner.

“Alex, I don’t know what’s happening. She was on the bed, but when I touched her wrist she threw herself off the other side to get away from me. I don’t know what to do.”

Alex holds her hands out in front of Kara, moving slowly so she can clearly see her intentions. Her hands slowly descend to land on Kara’s forearms, and Lena watches with rapt attention.

Alex’s eyes flicker between Kara’s and Lena’s for a second before she addresses Lena whilst looking deeply into Kara’s eyes. “She’s alright, Lena. She’s going to be just fine. She’s just panicking and overwhelmed.”

Kara stares back at Alex, unblinking and seemingly frozen. Lena can’t help but find it a little odd. Her breathing appears normal, if not a little deeper than usual, but she’s not gasping for breath, not struggling against whatever is happening. She’s just embracing it and riding her way through it.

“What’s happening, Alex?” Lena whispers.

“She’s fine,” Alex responds in a hushed voice, carefully prying her hands down and away from her ears. “She’s just fine.”

“Alex?” Kara whimpers.

“I’m here,” Alex reassures, taking that as her cue to pull her sister into a hug. “Both me and Lena are here and we’re not going anywhere. I promise.”

Lena nods despite the fact that Kara can’t see her face. “We’re not leaving, Kara.”

Tentatively, she reaches out to press her hand to the centre of Kara’s back and lets out a heavy breath of relief when she doesn’t shy away.

They sit like that for several long minutes. Alex holds her tightly while Lena strokes her hand up and down the centre of her back in a slow, purposeful rhythm, completely predictable. Then, Kara leans back, sniffling a little and wiping her eyes before tears can fall. “Thanks.”

“Are you ok?” Lena murmurs.

Kara nods shakily. “Yeah, sorry. It just…I was…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know,” Alex says, standing up and pulling Kara with her, urging her to get back on the bed. “Lie down. I’m going to have to check you over.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not going to stop worrying until I’ve seen it for myself, so just humour me, alright?”

“Ok.” Kara doesn’t put up a fight, and it’s clear that she isn’t in the right state of mind to be able to for some time yet. “That’s ok. Lena, will you stay with me?”

Lena moves to her side, taking her hand. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Kara hums. “Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to stay here alone, and I don’t think Alex will let me out of here yet.”

Lena had to stop herself from agreeing, guilt already building up in her chest, heavy and uncomfortable. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

A heavy silence fills the room.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Sam called and she can’t put off everything going on with Luthor Corp any longer. I have to go or else the company could fall into my mother’s hands, and she’s just as bad as my brother.”

Kara blinks slowly before tightening her grip on Lena’s hand. “You have to go then. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just call me?”

Lena’s eyebrows pinch together in worry. “I’m sorry, Kara. If I could stay, I would. I don’t even want to go. If I could just leave it and not have anything to do with Luthor Corp or anything to do with the Luthor name at all, I would. I really would.”

“I know.” Kara forces a smile, one that both Alex and Lena can see through.

“I’ll look after her and stay with her.” Alex squeezes Lena’s arm, seeing the conflicting emotions hiding behind emerald eyes. “You do what you have to do and then come back to us, alright?”

Lena hums her agreeance and raises Kara’s hand up, kissing the back of it softly. “I promise I’ll be as quick as I can. This is my home now. National City is my home and I don’t really want to leave.”

Kara holds their joined hands on her belly, her free hand holding onto Lena’s wrist, preventing her from leaving, and Lena’s not about to pull away. Sam can wait a while longer.

Inevitably, she’ll have to go, but she’s happy to stay for as long as she can in the meantime.

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