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whirlybirbs · 2 months

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i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning.

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!"

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea.

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase.

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked.

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you.

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them.

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck.

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived.

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here.

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table.

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute.

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even.

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close.

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers.

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this.

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time.

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next.

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life.

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks.

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name.

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches.

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up.

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often.

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life.

Hawks brings his visor back down.

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement.

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing.

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings.

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again.

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors.

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy.

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back.

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'.

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five.

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday.

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining.

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster.

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster.

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out.

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back.

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver.

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter.

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants.

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over.

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun.

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm.

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation.

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke.

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated.

#i had a few banger one liners in this one folks #meet & greet #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #hawks imagine #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami imagine #mha hawks #bnha #mha imagine #bnha imagine

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lovelettersforthedamned · 2 months

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the idea of college!hockey!peter gets me everytime like he’s prolly a little of an asshole and so cockeyyyyy ahhhhh i want him to bully me into having sex with him

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.8k

✰ summary: why keep peter when he keeps giving you the asshole treatment? you know why, but you wouldn't dare say it out loud.

✰ warnings: language, peter is depicted as taller than the reader, a tease of smut but no actual.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list

gif by @ddlovatosrps

You swore off coming to another one of Peter’s games, but here you were, sitting in the worn-down stands of your school’s hockey rink. The arena was packed as you tried to navigate your way to the seat that Peter saved for you, his practice jersey slung over the back of the plastic.

peter🏒:

i saved you a seat. my jersey is on it

you should wear it

When you received that text from him, you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the stupid smile that grew on your face. Peter’s always been a pain in your ass, so why couldn’t you push him away?

Peter’s team was entering the rink, causing an uproar from the home side. Making a few laps around the perimeter of the ice, your eyes caught the bold ‘73’ on the back of his jersey, matching yours.

Little kids and other college girls flood the glass, holding signs and waving them around, hoping to catch their favorite player’s attention. You couldn’t help but notice quite a few of the posters having ‘HEY PARKER! CAN I HAVE A PUCK?’ drawn on in thick letters. Peter has been team captain for two years now, and his skill with a puck and a stick has been widely received.

A few minutes pass before the game officially starts. You weren’t the biggest fan of hockey until you met Peter. He brought you to practice, and his games and made you watch every game of the professional league’s playoffs last season. And with every goal, he would always turn around to you and say, “I could totally do that by the way.” And every single time you would push his face away and laugh. At first, you thought he was joking just to be funny, but then you realized he was dead serious.

This season really did prove that he could score at least two points each game, and he never failed to make you realize that. Tonight was no exception.

5-1 was the final score when the third period ended, making everyone jump up in their seats. You slowly stood, clapping your hands while keeping your eye on Peter, a soft smile appearing on your lips at the sight of him celebrating with his teammates. After a few minutes, the team starts to head back into the locker room with Peter being the last in the line. Walking down to the glass, you meet him there. He smirks before flipping you off. “I told you so,” he yells through the glass.

“I hate you,” you tell back, ignoring the growing crowd around you. The world around you seems to not exist when you are with Peter, it’s annoying.

He begins to skate away before mouthing, “No, you don’t.”

At the end of every game, you meet Peter outside where the door to the locker room leads. You’re usually surrounded by the team’s girlfriends waiting to celebrate their boyfriend’s win. And though you aren’t Peter’s girl, you still smile at the hugs and kisses the girls around you receive.

As soon as Peter’s moppy brown hair and broad frame come through the door, your smile drops. He knew you’d be waiting here for him, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of you potentially being happy to see him.

“Where’s my hug and kiss, (L/N)?” Peter’s deep and now scratchy voice floods your ears.

Your arms cross in front of you as you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, his height drastically different from yours, “Yeah, you’re real funny, Parker.”

His arm slings over your shoulder as he leads you to his car, his body still warm. He pops open his trunk, dropping his equipment inside before holding your face in both his hands, giving your cheeks a small squeeze before kissing your lips. “Don’t act so grumpy, buggy. We both know you want me to fuck you dumb on my cock,” he whispers against your lips.

Your cheeks flush, and your body runs hot immediately. Releasing your eye contact with him, you look away, nervous, “Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

His lips are so close to touching yours again, and you’re almost aching for his touch, but you won’t give yourself away. You can feel a huff of a laugh against your lips before he pulls away, “I don’t need to make myself feel better, I just want to make you feel good.” You’re frozen in place for a few seconds, not even noticing that Peter is already at the passenger door, holding it open for you, “You coming, or are you gonna stand there and look stupid?”

You quickly make your way to the door, shoving his chest before entering his car. He slams the door once you get settled in.

Peter fucking sucks, but why do I need him so bad?

✰ author's note: I LOVE HOCKEY PETER!!! sorry anon, i couldn't make him super mean because i love when he has a soft spot for the reader. thank you for sending in this ask!! if you want to aswell, my ask box is open! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. ok, ily bye!!

#hockey!peter parker #hockey!peter #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #tasm!peter parker #spiderman #fluff

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 6 months

Text

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You couldn’t sleep.

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland.

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got.

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star.

Much like every young person who came to LA.

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year.

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it.

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month.

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason.

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead.

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you.

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change.

Not just because they offered you the job.

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was.

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens.

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope.

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years.

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then.

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing.

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life.

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition.

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional.

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone.

2:43 am.

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back.

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo.

You should be beyond happy.

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined.

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet.

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him.

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed.

More than once.

In front of the camera.

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you.

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room.

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay.

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound.

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise.

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up.

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played.

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other.

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play.

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song.

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face.

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked.

You hummed in agreement.

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side.

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled.

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile.

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place.

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you.

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him.

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed.

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours.

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered.

„Yeah?“ He asked.

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply.

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again.

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment.

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes.

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest.

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too.

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face.

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked.

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie.

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down.

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go.

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry.

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces.

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder.

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours.

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging.

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked.

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours.

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped.

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss.

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet.

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile.

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over.

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him.

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready.

And you did actually get married.

Seven months later.

On a beach.

In the rain.

Without any interruptions.

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #my fic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfic

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munariplans · 5 months

Note

YES PLEASE WRITE ABOUT THAT

the second i heard about all the merch nat had amassed i thought about what readers reaction would be if they would think its sweet or tease her or make fun of how she most definitely got ripped off for most of them but will now get them free (and the most important signature of all going on the marriage certificate duh)

But it also made me think what about readers 🤔

In my head reader has all of nat’s articles printed out some even framed

synopsis: just a short one-shot / drabble based on the cute request above!

read the original forty, love.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 1.9k words

it had been a spontaneous decision; natasha inviting you back to her apartment. the both of you were more than slightly tipsy at that point, and you were in no condition to drive back home. luckily, or not, the bar had been right by her place, and within walking distance of her way home.

natasha thanked her lucky stars that she had liquid courage fuelling her bravery, as she asked, “do you just want to go back to my place?”

at your surprised glance, she laughed, and slapped you on the shoulder. “n-not anything weird, i promise. you will take the couch, and i will be very cosy in my bedroom.”

you were holding her up by then, and the smirk on your face was so teasing, so smug for a moment, that natasha had to remind herself that she was drunk, and it was wrong to kiss a friend. a friend she very much had a deep history with, a friend that she wouldn’t want to stay just friends with.

“okay, lead the way, ms. romanoff,” you gestured out of the bar, and natasha and you leaned against each other the whole walk home, in the freezing temperatures of new york in winter.

it was only when she had let the both of you in through the threshold of her space, and cursed drunkenly as she tried removing her thick socks, that she noticed you weren’t by her side anymore. and you weren’t as drunk as she had been when you left the bar.

natasha heard a snicker, and when she turned to see you crouching over the television stand, her heartbeat began to raise in embarrassment and her palms cold.

she was across the room in the next moment, screaming, “no, no! don’t look at that!”

but you were quicker, and you caught her right as she tried to block your view of the rows and rows of memorabilia that she had of you, carefully curated and collected over the years. her flailing arms trying desperately to release herself from your hold and swipe the memorabilia off of the stand and out of your memory.

then, she heard your laughter. a hearty, amused rumble from the depths of your chest, ringing against her ears as you laughed, and laughed, at her embarrassment and the blatant obsession over your career that she had followed through the years. “oh, natasha, my natasha.”

if she even had half her mind right on trying not to make her cheeks any redder, she would have blushed at the proclamation of you calling her yours. but you were already kneeling back down to eye level with the memorabilia then, inspecting each one with amusement, and slight fondness, in your eyes. she began right after your qualification for the Australian Open, while you were still in college, but broken up.

natasha decided it was pointless trying to stop you, and simply resigned and fell flat on the couch behind her, sighing until you had your fill.

“this was from years ago!” you picked out a ball that had been used for your final round in the qualifiers, and natasha threw her arm over her eyes.

“i know.”

you picked out a cap this time, “i remembered signing only about ten of these to give out to fans during the festive season.”

“i know. i signed up for your team’s emailers, lucky draws, even bought your stupid posters and water bottles, anything, to get a chance of winning that thing.”

you let out another grin, and while she couldn’t see you, you let your eyes soften at the fact that she had done so much to support you, and you hadn’t realised. all these years. it made everything a little bit of a shame; the lost time and wasted efforts.

finally, you took a row of little figurines of your racket designs over the years, neatly arranged and kept in an acrylic casing. “nat, you could start a museum about me at this rate.”

“oh, shut up!” she shot up this time, trying to wrench it out of your grasp, but you pulled away, giggling at her cheeks reddening again.

“seriously, how much have you spent on all this? must’ve cost you thousands, i’m a really expensive player,” you gave her a cheeky grin, and she took your cheeks in between her fingers, pinching as hard as she could. you yelped in pain as you jumped back, “ouch!”

“i hate you, i hate you so much.”

you rolled her over, grabbing a marker that you had spotted lying nearby, and immediately taking her arm to sign on it. she tried to bite you this time, but you managed to escape just in time. “your collection seems to say otherwise.”

that night, the proposition for you to sleep on the couch and her in her own bedroom was quickly forgotten; as the both of you ended up play fighting all the way until you landed on her bed. natasha pointed you out on it, but you were adamant, and pulling the covers over the both of you, exhausted from the bar and natasha’s punches, you sighed happily. “too late, i’m here now. bed’s too warm.”

she grumbled that she hated you once more, as she came in closer and slung her arm over your midriff to pull you close, under the guise of still being cold. you decided not to point out that her limbs were practically tangled with yours in the morning, head on your chest as she slept as peacefully as a child who had just gotten their first tennis ball signed by you in a tournament.

it was only years later, when you tried to point it out on the day of registering your marriage, had natasha threatened you sleeping on the couch in your shared apartment again. this time, you knew she meant business; and the threat was most likely real, so you shut up quickly and followed her into the registry.

while you signed the certificate beside her, she caught you stifling a laugh again, and jabbed your side to ask you what it was about.

“nothing.”

“tell. me,” she glared at you, “or i’m not signing that thing.”

your eyes twinkled with amusement, you looked so entertained by your own memory. “j-just…i was just thinking…how much the you in the past would have paid for this signature right here, on this certificate. you were my number 1 collector and fan, of course.”

the witness couldn’t control his own chuckles, seeing natasha pull you in by the ear and scolding you for teasing her until her whole body turned red with shame.

afterwards, however, when the two of you were alone, did she finally admit, “i still am your number 1 collector and fan. don’t you ever forget that, or try to replace me.”

–

but natasha had her own arsenal of materials to make fun of you for your obsession with her too, of course. while you hadn’t had memorabilia or kept up with her over the years with no contact, that was a problem that was quickly alleviated once you learnt of natasha’s full-time job as a reporter and editor.

the next match natasha came to after your first grand slam win, your manager had asked her how her day at the office the previous night went, and while taken aback, he sheepishly admitted that you had asked him to, and to make sure she was comfortable at the seats. she had first chalked it up to a lucky coincidence that you knew she was on the news yesterday, reporting on a recent economic trend that hit the country.

then, it was all debunked when you came to her later, and while distracted with fans that were coming up to you at your hotel, you had left your phone unattended at the bar with natasha. it wasn’t really her fault you received a ping from a message then, to reveal your lockscreen had been changed to one of a scheduling sheet. upon closer inspection, it had been natasha’s schedule sheet, of when she would be on air for the month, complete with the locations and timings that the firm had published for her. she presumed the ones in red highlights were when you had your matches, and true enough, they were, when she found your manager helping to record a segment of her news portions one day, and having to admit to her that you had asked him to so you could watch her after to destress. she could hardly control the butterflies that erupted in her belly at the confession.

when the both of you had gotten closer and you would spend some dinners and mornings at her place, natasha would find that you had even pinned her as the top editor in the morning news you would read, always reading what she had published first before anyone else, as if her writing was your morning coffee. she chose not to say anything of it, silently gleaming at the fact that you paid so much attention to what she wrote.

you would often say, “i really liked that piece, the one on the impacts of artificial intelligence in sports,” or some other topic that she would have written, and point out your own thoughts on her piece. it was like having her own personal editor, with no judgments, no criticism. just love for what she had put out, and validation for her work. natasha was glad she had a supporter so ardent as you had yours.

and when the two of you had officially gotten together, natasha once received a text from your best friend during your match, while she was at work, and sighed at the opportunity that she had missed. however, when she did open up the text, it gave access to a video that said best friend had recorded, and there you were, in your dressing room before the match, crouched over the small television set there was, watching her cover the daily news like it had been an action movie. you paid attention to every word, eyes following her as she moved around like an entranced puppy, and when you had to get up and leave, natasha saw you leaning close and pressing a kiss from your fingers to the screen where she was, in replacement of the lips you couldn’t kiss in real life then, and she couldn’t control her burst of laughter. you had to know about this, at the very least.

you physically recoiled and clamped your eyes shut in embarrassment when you saw the video yourself, natasha still fighting hard to control the chuckles coming out of her, and you begging for her to delete whatever you had just seen. “nat, please, please!”

“no, this is hilarious!” she said between fits, “you are hilarious. is this your pre-match ritual, baby?”

“it is not! n-no, i can’t have anyone else see me like this, i can’t have the public see me like this,” you tried to wrestle her off for the phone, but only half-heartedly, because natasha was never in a million years going to let you delete it.

“oh relax, it’s only going to leak if you really, really piss me off one day, or if this phone gets hacked,” she replied, eyes still dancing in amusement as you hid your face in your hands, shaking your head in shame. “it’s kind of sweet, i must admit.”

you pouted at her. “promise me it’s not going anywhere. promise me you won’t send it to anyone else.”

she interlaced her pinky with yours, “i promise.”

natasha had already sent the video to your manager, however, and allowed you to become the laughing stock of your team just days after that match occurred.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #tennis player! reader #forty love #natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

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sorrowsofsilence · 1 year

Text

I Was Always Yours

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 4.1k

Part Two

Warnings: smut 18+, fluff, swearing, unprotected s*x (pls wrap it b4 u tap it), female recieving, PnV penetration.

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Author note: This is short haired Noah era! <3 I just couldn’t resist using the beautiful photo of Noah above :3 Also, I haven’t written on tumblr in years, but I thought I’d come back with this fluff/smut! Enjoy if this finds you! <3

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

I finally gathered the courage to turn off my car, letting the crisp autumn air bite at my cheeks as I stepped outside. Taking in a shaky breath I allowed my legs to carry me towards the door, my hands clammy and fingers fidgety.

The boys were always simple- and even their nice townhouse was in an everyday neighbourhood, with nothing elaborate on the outside. Just as it had always been, as if time never flew by.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I’ve known Nick and Noah for years. We were neighbours growing up, went to high school together, and even shared memories from our adulthood. These boys knew me and I knew them, but I knew that things were different now.

The boys had just finished tour, and have grown exponentially in their music careers. They walked around with security now, and had fans dedicated to finding out everything about their lives- they’ve become a spectacle; no longer just Nick, or just Noah.

The nerves also came because I didn’t even know if I’d be seeing Noah. Admittedly, he was my first crush; and really, I don’t think it ever left. When I first met him in seventh grade he sported a shaggy haircut and a dorky grin, and he’s held my heart with iron bars ever since. Over the years I had just accepted that my feelings would never be reciprocated, and we both dated other people on and off.

It’s been almost three years since I last got to see him due to the pandemic, and we only ever texted each other on big life events, like birthdays, or during the release of their album. I knew the boys were back when Nick sent out a message that he was looking to tattoo again. I sported a few of Nick’s pieces, but I was looking to get a cover-up of a bad decision I made during a past relationship. I texted Nick asking if he was available, and here I am; right outside Nick’s house.

I sighed deeply, trying to persuade the anxiety out of my lungs, before knocking, following the pattern I had always used when I was younger. Within seconds I was greeted by a pair of grey-green eyes and a wide smile, my nervousness beginning to cease.

“Y/N!” I was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t know I was holding in. My grin matched his own as I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing back, laughing.

“It’s nice to see you Ruffilo.”

We pulled away from each other and shared another smile. I took off my leather Doc Martens, straightening my fuzzy red polka-dot socks before giving him another hug, smiling into his neck.

“It’s been way too long,” Nick said, giving me an empathetic glance as we separated. “Life has just been crazy.”

“Yeah, I almost wonder if I should be bowing to you right now considering how famous you’ve gotten,” I couldn’t help but laugh, and Nick rolled his eyes, leading me down the hall. The place was neat; white paint, and light flooring. Various Bad Omen’s posters and records hung neatly on the wall, along with other abstract art pieces. It was delicate and simple, just as they way they always kept it. It’s nice to see that they haven’t changed in that regard.

“Trust me, no bowing is required.” Nick turned back to face me, his smile radiating, before motioning at a door ahead, and I walked into a small office filled with tattoo supplies. It was Nick’s mini-home tattoo studio.

“Wow, this is awesome Nick. You’ve always wanted your own little studio.” I said, looking at his work plastered on the wall, soaking it in with awe.

He sighed happily, “Yeah, when we were looking for a house that was one of my requirements. I needed my own space; just because we make music doesn’t mean I’ll give up tattooing.”

I nodded, taking a seat on the chair. “Thank you for seeing me by the way, I appreciate you squeezing me in.”

“Hey, for you, I’d do anything.” He smiled warmly, sitting across from me.

Nick and I chatted for almost an hour before even starting the tattoo. We caught up and talked about tours, and I loved getting to listen to his stories about performing and getting to travel the world. It seemed like the dream, especially considering that before the pandemic, they joked about only pleasing ten fans.

However, the entire time I felt distracted. The only thing my mind kept wandering to was if Noah was home, or if he was going to show up. I felt ashamed being so disconnected from the conversation with Nick; because he was someone I cared about deeply. Yet, my thoughts took me elsewhere.

“You alright?” Nick asked gently, as he started preparing his supplies, glancing at me teasingly.

“Oh yeah! I’m good!” I smiled reassuringly and Nick echoed me, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I asked him, the cheesy grin plastered on his face making me nervous.

“Noah will be home soon, he’s just out with Davis.”

I stared at him, my cheeks beginning to flush, “Okay, cool?” I shrugged nonchalantly, but my stomach immediately began doing spirals, nerves bubbling throughout my veins.

Nick wiped my thigh, preparing the location for the stencil quietly before asking, “You never told him how you felt?”

I watched him cautiously, eyes flickering between his hands and his eyes, “I- I don’t feel anything,” I shook my head, ears getting even hotter. “That was so long ago.”

Nick looked up through his lashes, looking very unconvinced, “Sure, and I don’t play in a band.”

Rolling my eyes, I gave him an annoyed smile, “It would be nice to see him. It’s been a long time- and he doesn’t post anything online anymore, or text.”

Nick nodded as he wiped and re-drew the outline on my leg, “Noah’s been pretty recluse. He’s gotten a lot of anxiety from the fame; mostly just sticks to himself when we finish shows. Plus, he doesn’t enjoy dealing with some of the fans.”

I frowned, feeling myself get sad. Noah has always been pretty introverted, but it looked like he was getting out of his shell on stage. He was playing into the pretty boy facade he had going, and he knew he was hot. I’ve seen plenty of videos from the tour.

“Well, I hope he is doing alright,” I said softly, looking around the room again for any form of distraction.

As if on cue I heard the front door open, and a yell cascaded down the hall, “You better not have a girl in your room,” he had teased.

Immediately I felt the hair on my neck stand in anticipation, realizing that the voice belonged to Noah. My fingers began to tingle as all the blood rushed towards my face, my chest losing any ounce of breath I was just able to exhale.

His voice bounded across the walls again, “but, these are some pretty sick boots.”

“Got someone even better,” Nick yelled back, laughing, “In the tattoo room.”

A head of brunette hair popped in the doorway, his eyes immediately widening as if his whole world suddenly began to spin within milliseconds. A small flush of colour ran down his ears onto the tops of his cheekbones, before a wide, childlike smile appeared on his face. He stepped into the room, immediately crossing his arms, and leaning on the side of the table as if he thought he was doing something charming.

“No fucking way, look what the cat dragged in,” his Virginian accent dancing off his tongue.

I looked back at him, my heart racing even faster. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, but he did take my breath away. Noah looked older, but healthy, becoming a lot more muscular and defined, despite his height and lank still being there. His hair was short, a layer of bangs hanging across his forehead in a messy sweep. It was the first time I’d seen him in person without his long hair, all 13 inches gone; but it suited him. I soaked in his appearance, noticing a few new tattoos layered around his fingers as well, my heart yearning.

“Is that really my Y/N/N?” he stared at me, the grin not leaving his face, especially after using my childhood nickname. Noah walked towards me shyly with open arms, squinting his eyes in contentment as he invited me in for a hug.

“the one and only.” I breathed a nervous laugh, standing up. Shaky limbs carried me over to him and he wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me within his body.

I composed myself, inhaling slowly, before hugging back, squeezing his torso. I felt so small compared to him, yet I still fit right between his arms, as if I was meant to always be there, a spot reserved just for me. We rocked back and forth in a tight embrace, his chest vibrating as he let out a happy chuckle.

“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I could hear the happiness radiating off of him.

I sighed with relief at his reaction; he must’ve missed me too. He held onto me for a moment more, and I breathed in his scent, recognizing his favourite Dior cologne. Smiling into his chest, It felt comfortable- it felt familiar. Years of memories flooded back, my heart recalling, reminding myself that he was who I had been missing in my life all along.

“Wow, you’ve changed Y/N,” Noah said as he pulled away, stepping back slightly, taking me in with a look of awe. He absorbed all of me, drinking in my image, before grabbing the sides of my face, and staring into me with an immense amount of appreciation.

I looked up at him in admiration, studying his deep October eyes as they sang unspoken words, retelling a story that only our bodies knew.

“Your hair,” I said as my hand unconsciously found its way to his locks.

My fingers flowed down his no longer existing threads, reminiscing of his past image. That chapter of his life was gone. He’s been reborn into a much more confident man, a newer version of the Noah that once was. I almost longed for his old appearance, because I didn’t know this Noah- but by the way his eyes gleamed, he was still mine.

Noah chuckled, “Yeah, I was tired of getting it in my mouth when singing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his hand, before pulling away to look at Nick.

Nick gave us a sly smile, shaking his head gently.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” Noah sighed, still smiling. I swear it hasn’t left his face since he saw me. He looked over at Nick, “And you didn’t even tell me?”

“I thought it would be a fun surprise,” Nick looked at Noah playfully, before patting the tattoo chair. I took a seat again, positioning my thigh within Nick's reach.

“You’re getting some ink?” Noah asked, folding his arms in approval as he leaned over me, looking at the stencil outlined on my skin.

“Yeah, Nick said he wanted to tattoo again, and I needed an excuse to visit,” I said cheekily.

Noah nodded repeatedly, still analyzing my thigh. “You never needed an excuse. You should’ve texted us. Texted me.”

I shrugged, “I didn’t want to get in the way. You guys are busy- especially now. the last thing you need is unnecessary messages or phone calls.”

“I haven’t seen you in like three years Y/N,” Noah said, sighing a sad smile. He sat down on a stool, folding his ankle over his knee.

Nick began to outline the tattoo, and I winced briefly, “I know.”

“You never came to see us on this tour.” Noah looked at the floor, analyzing the outline of his white vans. I glanced at him quickly, before concentrating on Nick’s hands. “You know we’d have gotten you in right?”

I gave him a mournful look, “I’d pay just like everyone else, Noah. I don’t expect anything…but I honestly just got super busy.”

“I was really hoping you’d be there.”

I felt my heart clench and my chest tighten at his words. “I’m sorry.” I peered over at him, barely being able to maintain eye contact as I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you either; it does go both ways,” Noah said, and we shared a wry smile.

“You should come see us this weekend,” Nick said while concentrating. I furrowed my eyebrows as he scratched along my skin, the area beginning to redden. Despite having multiple tattoos, I never enjoyed the experience of getting them.

“What time? And where?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek, and closing my eyes at the burning sensation.

Noah scrolled on his phone before I felt my own buzz. Looking at it, I saw a message from Noah. It was a ticket with VIP access.

“I don’t need VIP,” I looked at him in appreciation.

Noah smiled down at his phone, “Well last time I checked, VIP stands for ‘very important persons’, and arguably our childhood bestie is in that category.”

“Well, thank you.” I smiled gratefully, butterflies still knocking on every organ in my body.

“So,” Noah began, shifting positions so he was leaning his elbows on his knees, peering over to stare at my leg, “You and Sean broke it off?”

I followed his gaze, staring at the faded puzzle piece beneath the purple markings of Nick's outline.

Sean was my first serious boyfriend. We were friends in high school, and admittedly always had some sort of connection. We started dating, and were together for four years; before I found somebody else sleeping with him in our bedroom.

I looked longingly at the puzzle piece, my eyes snapping away once Nick began lining on top of it, covering away the layers of regret, “He cheated on me.”

Turning to face Noah, his face immediately shifted from sympathetic to anger, “What a complete fucking tool.” He spat, folding his arms in the chair. Noah’s reaction surprised me, but I nodded in agreement.

“Yep.” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders, “Note to self, don’t get a matching tattoo. You probably won't be with that person forever.” I said, pessimistically.

Noah was quiet for a moment, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip as he contemplated his question, “Did you catch him?”

I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows in annoyance, “In our bedroom too.”

Noah scoffed, audibly groaning while he tilted his head back in hostility, “Pathetic piece of shit. I never liked him being with you.”

My heart raced as Noah glared at the puzzle piece that began to disappear on my thigh, “At least now you’ll get to have a better piece of art on your body.”

“Exactly,” I smiled proudly, watching Nick’s hands run along the skin, “and it’s the one and only Nicholas Ruffilo’s handy work too.”

Nick glanced up smiling. It was quiet for a moment, and I chewed on my lip, anxious to ask.

“What about you? Any ladies?” I said to Noah playfully, winking. Deep down though, I was hoping the answer was no one.

Noah gave me a small smile, “No one at the moment, last relationship ended poorly.”

“That makes two of us.” I chuckled sorrowfully

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Noah pushed me against the bedroom door, lips attached to my own hastily. His kiss was desperate and hungry as he cupped my face in his hands, and I felt weak in the knees as our hips were pushed together, the heat radiating off of him.

“You have no idea how long I have waited to do this.” He breathed between kisses.

My hands found their way to Noah’s hair, rubbing my fingers along his scalp affectionately. I smiled through his lips, eagerly holding myself against him.

“It was so worth the wait.” He whispered, pulling away and putting his forehead against my own. He stared into me, right through me with so much intent. I had always wanted to kiss him, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized where he was, succumbing to me.

I closed my eyes, smiling, “you have no idea how badly I wanted that too.”

He smiled widely, glancing down at my lips again, this time pulling me into his arms while kissing me with force and passion.

“Tell me how badly,” he whispered, running his fingers delicately across my waist and I melted into his touch.

“Honestly? Probably ever since we met.” I admitted, my face turning red with embarrassment at the confession, “and it’s never gone away.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Noah pulled away from the kiss, running his hand up my arm to cup the side of my face again, thumb tracing a gentle circle along my cheekbone. He looked desperate for an answer as if this was all he’s ever wanted to hear. I felt Noah’s heartbeat racing rapidly through his chest, which heaved heavily against my own.

“I never thought you felt that way, and I didn’t want to push anything because I didn’t want to lose you,” I confessed, looking away nervously.

Noah hummed quietly, pulling my chin towards him in another delicate kiss. His lips were warm and gentle. “You’ll never lose me. No matter how long it’s been.”

Noah began running his hands up and down my sides before sliding them between my skin and the hem of my jeans. Immediately I felt flush, and I let my own hands ride up his black t-shirt. His skin was soft and warm, and my fingertips began to tingle with nerves.

Noah hooked his fingers in the loop of my jeans, tugging me towards him and trailing us toward his desk. My thighs hit the back of it, and Noah lifted me gently, placing me on top, and positioning himself between my legs. His warm hands caressed my lower back, creating goosebumps as his nails trailed up and down the skin lightly. I shivered from the sensation.

Noah’s tongue swiped my bottom lip, and I allowed him to kiss me deeper, our tongues melding together. I began tugging at his shirt, and Noah let out a low chuckle.

“You sure you want to do this?” Noah pulled away from my lips to stare into my eyes, looking at me sternly, and analyzing every movement I made.

“yes,” I whined, almost embarrassingly needy, “Do you?”

Noah hung his head, shaking it slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck someone so badly in my entire life,” He looked up with hooded eyes.

“Then take me however you want.” I sighed, pulling at his shirt again, and Noah looked at me darkly with lust, his October eyes fading into an onyx abyss.

Noah pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed chest; I stared at the ink longingly, remembering when he first got his desolate tattoo. I traced my fingers over the letters delicately, smiling to myself. This moment between us felt like I was reminiscing over all my lost time with Noah.

“Do you still feel this way?” I asked softly, as Noah pulled off my own shirt, leaving me exposed in my pink laced bra. Noah placed his hand on top of mine as I traced the last letter.

He shook his head, “No, but it will always be a reminder of when I felt empty.”

“I'm glad you don’t feel that way anymore,” I whispered, and Noah’s hands explored my body once again, before pulling on the hem of my jeans.

Bringing me into a kiss again, he fiddled with the zipper before tugging my pants down my legs, leaving me exposed in my underwear.

“I’ve probably envisioned you naked weekly.” Noah admitted as he kissed down my neck, hands roaming over every inch of skin in desperation, “I need to taste you, princess.”

I blushed at his words, and Noah’s kisses trailed further from my neck, teeth grazing across my collarbone to between my breasts. His breath quickened as he kissed lower and lower, licking down my stomach until he stopped right at the edge of my underwear.

“This okay?” He breathed heavily, his own face flushing. I nodded, and Noah pulled at the lace, revealing me.

“Fuck,” He groaned, looking up through his eyelashes briefly before placing his mouth against me, letting his slim fingers trace patterns across the sensitive skin.

Noah’s tongue circled me before he inserted two fingers, and I let out a moan. He pumped slowly, moaning quietly against me, “Oh, you wouldn’t want Nick to hear.”

I squeezed my thighs together around his head in pleasure, and Noah’s free hand gripped my thigh, pulling me even closer.

I began to pant faster, trying to be quiet, “Oh my god Noah,” I let my head fall back, resting against the wall as Noah ate me out feverishly, like this was his last meal. His fingers curled upwards, the repetitive motion sending my abdomen into a knot of fulfillment, my legs shaking against his body.

“Fuck, I need to stop or I'm going to come in my pants- and I don’t want to yet.” Noah’s eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. Taking his fingers that were inside me into his mouth, he licked them clean before pulling himself up. I watched in disbelief- that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him do; even compared to Noah’s stage performances of The Death of Peace of Mind. He grabbed my ass, hoisting me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Noah was extremely hard, his clothed member digging into me as he carried me towards his bed; he kissed me again and I tasted myself off of his tongue.

Noah laid me on the bed, kissing along my neck again as my hands roamed his hair before he unclasped my bra and pulled my panties down, exposing me fully to him.

“You are gorgeous, shit,” Noah mumbled, absorbing me with his eyes as he pulled his shorts down hastily, and I couldn’t help but let my own eyes wander across Noah’s fully exposed body, swallowing hard.

A new warmth washed over me as I got even wetter between my legs, the familiar feeling of excitement preparing my body for Noah’s; but this was different. This time it was Noah, here in front of me. Noah ran his fingers along my folds, moaning and internally begging to replace his hands with his own heat longing to be touched.

Noah spit into his hand and I watched attentively, following his every move as my body shivered. Noah rubbed along himself, before positioning his body above mine.

We shared eye-contact again and I nodded in approval before Noah pushed inside, his body immediately shuddering as I moved my hips against his, and he sighed deeply, squeezing his eyes closed briefly.

“God fucking dammit, you feel so good, princess.”

My legs parted as Noah’s body sunk into mine, his thrusts getting deeper and heavier. I let out another moan, “Oh- my-god-Noah.”

Words were coiled at my throat as Noah pounded into me, hands on either side of my head, his necklace dangling in my face.

“Look at me.” Noah’s voice was rough, and I stared into his eyes. He watched me with every thrust, and I mumbled a string of messy swears, my body clenching around his.

Noah’s arms wrapped around my body, pulling me up so I was positioned on top of him, but so that there was enough leverage for him to continue to thrust into me from below. This new position allowed him to penetrate me deeper and groaned with every entrance of his body into mine.

Noah grabbed the back of my neck and the middle of my back, holding me still as he fully gave himself into me before pulling me into another kiss. His mouth attached to mine hastily, bucking his hips aimlessly. Noah’s moans were almost louder than mine as he shamelessly allowed himself a pleasure.

“Mark me, Noah, show me I was always yours.” I whimpered, and Noah immediately attached to my neck, biting and sucking against the delicate skin that was pinned along my neck.

I heaved into his ear, resting my forehead on his shoulder as he held my hips, allowing myself to completely undo myself, moaning as my body reached my climax.

“Fuck me, Noah,” I panted, gripping his arms as I clenched around him, letting him thrust into me as I rode out my high.

Noah pulled my neck back to look at him again, sweat dripping across his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed in rapture, “please let me cum inside you Y/N.”

I nodded, kissing him eagerly, our saliva melding together as Noah moaned into the kiss. His body quivered as he released himself, exhaling in short breaths of satisfaction.

“Holy shit,” Noah mumbled into my neck, and I held onto him, a smile plastering itself onto my face. We sat there for a moment, panting against each other as our chests heaved, sweat attaching us together. I ran my fingers along Noah’s hair again, absorbing his handsome features, and taking him in.

He looked up at me, his eyes back to their October glow, but now replaced with a gleam of devotion. He tucked the loose strands of my H/C hair behind my ear.

I placed my lips lightly on his, “I missed you so fucking much Noah.”

“I missed you so much princess,” Noah’s hand grabbed the back of my head gently, caressing me into his chest and holding on protectively. He pulled a blanket over us as we lay together out of breath, both relishing the high of our orgasms and the story we just created together.

“I guess I thought you got too busy to be my friend,” I whispered vulnerably as we lay underneath his covers, the story we created longing against my skin.

Noah’s head rested on top of my own, and I felt his body stiffen slightly, “life has been crazy, everything is so different now. We are no longer just screaming in my garage.” He rubbed my arm, nails trailing across my skin once again.

I nodded against him in understanding, “I know. I hope you know I watched every single concert online that I could. I followed so many fan pages just to keep updated on how you were doing.”

Noah pulled me away from him softly, he looked at me with awe, “Did you really?”

“Of course.” I looked up, smiling at him in adoration.

“I was always hoping you’d show up again at my doorstep sometime. You have no idea how happy I am right now.” He laughed, pulling me into him again. I smiled against his chest, absorbing this moment, worried it might be my last.

“I love you, Noah Sebastian Davis.”

“I love you most Y/N Y/L/N.”

Part Two if you want more smut ;)

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens band #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #smut #metal #metalcore #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian davis #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian and reader #x reader #reader insert

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mrinafria · 5 months

Text

The person who saved my life, and the person who made me want to live again, were all you.

Writing this to echo what @thedeathdeelers said in her post. I'm a Seon Jae softie through and through, and yet, when anyone questions Im Sol's choices or calls her names, I want to flip a table pretty much because have you seen the effects her choices have had on people?

Because of Im Sol's choices her mom doesn't have a burn injury on her hand.

Because of Im Sol's choices their house didn't completely burn down.

Because of Im Sol's choices Hyun Joo finally has the best of both worlds, with no regrets about letting go of something for the other. Her brother who was struggling with no motivation or luck whatsoever is definitely better off now.

Because of Im Sol's choices we even have a Tae Sung in the story, otherwise all we knew at the beginning, in episode 1, was he was some guy who dropped out of school after getting into a fight over something. Not the best first introduction to a character (who goes on to become the best second ML ever). I am the most proud about Tae Sung's transformation, because you can see that even in high school, underneath the 'bad boy' facade, he craved some genuine care and attention and guidance, which Im Sol the haelmoni, the yeppo noona provided.

Im Sol's choices allowed Seon Jae in Alt 2023 to live guilt-free for 14 years (where they confess), instead of him suffering that mental anguish and longing for 15 years out of guilt which the OG Seon Jae had to go through. And we all know what my feelings are about that version of him.

Because of Im Sol's choices, Sonagi exists (/-ed). Because if the 19yo Im Sol had not held the umbrella over him, giving him that dazzling smile of hers that is sunburst and blinding and contagious, capable of stirring storms within the heart, our boy would not be smitten and a loser and a goner for life (well, lives). And now we all know what that means when she chooses not to do that.

If Im Sol's choices have made anyone's life harder, it's Im Sol herself. She carries around the memories of THREE++ timelines, with the love of her life dying/almost dying in EVERY one of them. She goes through life as if she really didn't live through all that trauma that is enough to drive someone insane. She knows her Seon Jae is gone, for good, and all she has are memories that don't even exist in this timeline, memories that not even a single person can corroborate. You know how utterly helpless and hopeless that sounds like? She has a person in this timeline that resembles her Seon Jae, but she has to constantly remind herself he is not her person, her Seon-Jae, he better not be if she wants to see him alive. Going around in the city and seeing his posters/ads with his face on it, or stumbling onto him and seeing him staring at her with no recognition whatsoever? It's not easy. Becoming a complete stranger to someone who was once your everything, who could've been your everything. Not easy.

And she decides to carry on with life still because deep down she knows that's what Seon Jae would want, that's what Seon Jae had taught her: to live for the people who are thankful to have her around, to live to see another day, rain or shine. She loves life, lives life, as a token of gratitude to Seon Jae. She lives because when she says You saved my life, and you made me live to him, those are not just words she is casually throwing around. She is thankful that he made her find reasons to live one more day, and she is going to pay him back by living a worthwhile life. Because Seon Jae truly wants/ed that. He literally died wanting that, putting her life before him, because he wanted her to live, and by living, I mean not just breathing and spending the remainder of her life with survivor's guilt. Going back to this epic confession scene, he says all that because he is afraid of how Im Sol would go on with her life if he's no more. Here, he wants her to know that she doesn't need to blame herself, or suffer, because it is his choice to save her, and it'll all be worth it to him if she gets to live the best life she possibly can.

Just like Seon Jae in any timeline never stopped living or appreciating the good things in life despite longing for Im Sol for more than a decade, she will live and keep her love for him alive through herself. Even if she comes back home at the end of the day to cry in secret, or breaks down in tears in public places.

If Im Sol didn't make the choices she did, we won't have a Seon Jae to begin with.

#Lovely Runner #Byeon Woo Seok #Kim Hye Yoon #Sun Jae #Im Sol #Seon Jae #선재 업고 튀어 #kdrama #kdrama recommendations #east asian drama #still not sure if she spent 15 years back in the past is true #but she's been through more than enough already #and yeah I totally gifed my own video edit because the way she cries? and has that LOOK in her eyes? T-T #this is an incoherent mess cuz my brain is too tired and thinking about Im Sol is quite traumatizing

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yesimwriting · 6 months

Note

I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)

hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics

omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way

anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!

----

thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.

but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.

so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.

every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.

would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.

you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.

you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.

he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.

you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.

helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.

nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.

he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.

you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...

"not last year, or last semester--"

he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"

your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.

nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."

he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.

you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"

"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."

you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."

it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"

"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"

the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.

"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."

"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"

"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."

"she gets paranoid."

no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."

"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."

you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.

"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"

you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.

when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.

----

lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))

#euphoria x reader #nate jacobs x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs

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redleaderdemon · 5 months

Text

IT'S MY TURN ON THE WRITING

The sickening thud of metal against flesh with a hint of metallic clang was music to Alex’s ears. They stared down at their tormentor of weeks, no, months, possibly YEARS at this point, Dr. Lankmann. He was still recovering from the blow, crumpled to the ground. Alex didn’t realize they had raised the crowbar again until they were already bringing it down with as much might as they could muster, the gorgeous sound ringing out again, now with a pained yelp.

“STOP THIS!” The doctor cried out, but Alex didn’t listen. Too long this man has smothered everything in their life, their voice, their home, their friends... Another burst of the sound, now with more clanging than before as the doctor has had the sense to raise his arms to protect himself. The sound wasn’t as beautiful this time, Alex silently noted to themselves, but they’ll fix that soon.

“Stop this and I’ll give you what you want!” This, however, made Alex pause with the crowbar raised above their head, deciding to give the doctor some time to plead his case.

“What is it that you want? I’ll take away the wanted posters, I’ll take the way the surveillance on your house, I’ll-”

“Set him free.”

“...What..?”

“Set Winfrey, Specimen 02, free.” Alex said more loudly this time, not expecting their voice to raise. It never occurred to them how much they really cared and wanted to help until that moment. That they would rather help the sandwich-eating demon than fully carry out their revenge on the man who’s made them hurt for so long.. They didn’t even notice the caretakers starting to gather at this point, their only focus was on Dr. Herbert Lankmann. (Who names their child Herbert these days?)

“...That is the one thing I cannot do. That thing is far too dangerous!” Alex’s eye twitched and they raised the crowbar above their head again.

“WRONG ANSWER.” They barely registered the screams that erupted around them as they brought the crowbar down, that beautiful sound ringing out over and over as they let their pent of rage consume them. The screaming overpowered it in some moments, but they didn’t mind. After all, their best friend, The Smiling Snatcher, was here to help.

. . .

Alex breathed heavily as they loomed over the corpse of their former boss, barely recognisable as himself besides all the bent metal and broken LED screens the man had for eyes. They didn’t realize their new Veldigun status, even if they weren’t even nearly there to being fully transformed, had given them new found strength. They looked down at the bloody crowbar and chuckled a little, there was a noticeable bend in it from the sheer force they had used.

Clyde wandered over to Alex and leaned against them, purring loudly as Alex rubbed their head. The veldigun was covered in their own fair share of blood, Caretaker corpses littering the hallway and soaking in pools of the stuff. At least they seemed to have some fun while Alex was having an emotional moment.

“Let’s go set Winfrey free, hm?” Alex suggested, that grin they’ve come to love slowly spreading across Clyde’s face. They yelped in surprise as Clyde picked them up, the demon laughing as they headed off to Room 66, excited to finally see their old partner and to introduce their newest member. Nothing could separate them now.

#doai #dreams of an insomniac #pastra #veldigun #alex williams doai #lankmann #clyde doai #doai winfrey #caretakers doai #doai sitcom au #alex gets a rage moment #as a treat #they deserve it #- 🎃

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year

Text

Demon!Eddie 1

Steve woke up to someone moving about the room. He wondered why someone was in his room before last night’s events caught up with him. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed, it never happened. Eventually he’d find himself in his own house with parents that were just disappointed in him, not psycho cultists.

“Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty. I slaved over a hot stove for your breakfast. Come and get it.”

With a groan, Steve finally opened his eyes. In the light of the morning, he saw that the walls of the bedroom were covered with posters of people he didn’t know. A gray t-shirt and some sweatpants had been placed next to him. Eddie was nowhere to be seen.

Steve closed the door before undressing. He checked his palms again. Any sign that he had been sliced was gone. But his shirt was still ripped and there was still dried blood on his stomach. God, maybe he should’ve taken that shower after all.

He put the new set of clothes on anyway and left the bedroom. It took about one and half steps to get to the kitchen, where Eddie was sitting with some cereal and milk.

“Slaved over a hot stove, huh?”

“I turned the stove on for the coffee”, Eddie said cheekily.

Steve was distracted from the quip by the large soup pot of black coffee sitting on the stove. This man might really be the devil.

“Soooo”, he sat down across from Eddie, trying to ignore the warning bells. “What’s next?”

“That’s all up to you, remember?” Eddie pushed and empty bowl towards him, along with the box of cereal. “So what does freedom look like to Steve Harrington?”

He thought about the choices his parents had given him before. For his room, blue or green. For his major, business or law. They had always told him it was his choice before giving a very limited set of options.

“I...don’t know. I’ve never had this much freedom before.”

“Well, let’s start with something simple. Cereal or milk first?”

Steve’s expression pinched. “In my bowl? Cereal first, duh.” He grabbed the box and began to pour it.

“Aah, but what if milk is the main event for me and I simply want a crunchy garnish on top?”, Eddie grinned.

“I’d like to assume you’re being sarcastic but after seeing the way you make coffee I’m just not sure.”

“What’s wrong with the way I make coffee?”

Steve looked again to the pot. He wasn’t even a big coffee drinker, but sometimes the way a person did things told you so much about them. “Who raised you?”

“Technically? Your little country club did. Been a while since someone used that summoning spell.”

“Is that how it normally goes?”, Steve asked. “You just show up, burn a few folks, and then make off with the sacrifice?”

Eddie tapped Steve’s bowl with his spoon. “Don’t let it get soggy. And to answer your question, it depends on the wish and what they give up for it.”

“They’ve been worshipping you for...years I guess. Why did you betray them?”

“Would you rather I have taken your soul and given them what they wanted?”, Eddie asked.

“I just...don’t understand everything that happened last night.”

“The spell they used that whole thing they were chanting, it doesn’t call upon a specific demon”, Eddie began to explain. “That incantation is like dialing 911. You’re kinda rolling the dice with whatever demon picks up. And for most folks’ sake, I try to be that guy.”

“So you just go around snatching up sacrifices and leaving people with an empty bag?”

“That’s a good way of spinning it!”, Eddie cackled.

“And you let them crash here?”

“Not often. Most of the time they’re just caught in a bad group or made a wrong turn. I just give em an escape route or help them back where they’re supposed to be.”

“So I’m the first person who’s such a loser I literally have no other place to go.”

“Loser is just another way to say someone’s got a not so lucky life. And hey, it wasn’t all bad before that point right? Lavish parties, nice house, people bowing to you in hallways.” Eddie was twirling his spoon between his fingers as he spoke.

“I’d trade that for a box in an alley if I knew...if I knew they were going to do that.” Steve’s brow furrowed as he stared into his bowl.

“You could still go back. Try and mend some things, follow in dear old dad’s footsteps”, Eddie suggested.

Steve scoffed and pushed the bowl away, crossing his arms. “If they didn’t want me then, they’re not gonna want me now. And I could never be like them.”

“So you’re not going into business. What then? Health, education, entertainment?”

“Well there’s no way they’re footing the bill for tuition, which means college is out, which means my options are limited.”

“Don’t be so sure. Your wish was for freedom. And I aim to keep my promises.”

“Unless you’ve got a bunch of jobs lined up willing to take on someone with zero experience-”

“That’s it!”, Eddie snapped his fingers and then stood up. “You want experience so you can make a decision. Take a shower, make a list and then we’ll get started.”

“Started with what?”

“Job hunting!” Eddie put his empty bowl in the sink and then went through a door Steve hadn’t noticed. “Be ready when I get back!”

He shut the door and then Steve was left alone. He wasn’t any less confused than he was before. But he managed to find the bathroom, wash himself up which did make him feel much better. He found a pad of sticky notes and a marker and started to write down some jobs.

He started with the kind of jobs he had when he played pretend as a kid. Policeman, doctor, zookeeper, firefighter, astronaut. Then he started thinking about careers he had a passing fancy in as he got older. Baker, writer, teacher, military.

When Eddie came through the door again, he had a wild smile on his face and Steve had a completed list.

“Let’s have a looksie”, he said, snatching it from Steve’s hand. He gave a whistle at the various jobs. “Hope you had your coffee.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass. What’re we doing with this list anyway?”

“Steve....have you ever heard of roleplay?”

The redness in Steve’s cheeks were immediate as he looked Eddie up and down and suddenly remembered the feeling of his tongue.

“You...y-you mean where like people dress up and they um, they-”

“That’s right.” Then Eddie opened that mysterious door and Steve found himself in the middle of a precinct. “They play pretend!”, Eddie finished.

Steve looked down at himself and saw an officer’s uniform.

“You’re gonna live a day in the life until you figure out whatchu wanna do”, Eddie beamed, giving him a nudge with his shoulder.

Steve heard a clinking and saw that Eddie was handcuffed. Today was going to be a ride.

Part 3

Tag Team:

@michael-the-angelo @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas

@estrellami-1 @weirdandabsurd42 @lololol-1234

@chaoticvictorianspirit @giopandaonice @marklee-blackmore

@blackpanzy @kacatshi

#apo writes #fanfiction #steddie #stranger things #kinda a short transitional chapter #bf we get back to the meat of it

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iron-embers · 1 month

Text

Addressing the troll and those affected

Edit: Here is the final part to the identity of the Hantengu troll, please read!

The Finale

The text below is the first part

To followers and to those that were following bloodbladesanddemons, I’m sure you are all aware of a troll that has been on those site ever since May, and what started as a minor inconvenience has spiraled into a storm that has hurt many wonderful creators, fans of demon slayer that just a wanted a peaceful place to rant about their passions. Me and bbd have been friends for years, and when we both got into demon slayer about a year ago, we both decided to share that passion and create our own accounts. Both with our own characters, stories and hoping that we could meet like minded people to share our passion with. And at first, it was a great experience that had helped us reach so many wonderful people, and we got in right when the character Hantengu was animated so the hype was there for that specific character.

That all changed however when in April we started getting random anon asks from a person claiming they knew a creator named mothzii who was calling another artist a racial slur, and that’s why we should hate and avoid them at all costs. Since we had no idea what was going on, didn’t know who Mothzii was and found it weird that someone would go anon to apparently warn us, we ignored it because it wasn’t our business and we assumed that since most people are adults they can figure it out themselves. Why add to drama that didn’t involve us right? That changed when a young artist dream core started reporting that there was an anon troll on their asks and messages who was harrassing them relentlessly. Since bbd had recently started interacting with them she decided to help in anyway she could by both advising and giving them support, cuz bullying is not okay. After doing some research, we found a strange account on rule34, a degenerate site as we are all aware, but I found a picture that someone posted of fanart, of Sekido insulting some random female oc saying you disgust me, let me love on my real wives…to which they mention not only a random name of some other oc, but mention bbd’s character chizue. We found that this rule 34 user took mothzii commissioned art of her self insert, drew over it and basically stole the art, and made a disgusting parody of it, mentioning two OCs that were not even the posters or mothziis own. Basically, using bbd’s character without permission to harass and make fun of someone else. Bbd did not stand for it, and made a post saying that it was not okay for someone to use her character to compare and contrast who was a better fit for Sekido…which by the way is childish and disgusting cuz Sekido is a fictional character, and to justify art theft from people on twitter and mentioning an artist on tumblr is apparently is just asking for drama. After bbd made that post, we also reported the post and account on rule34 cuz the pic was very explicit and to see her characters name on that was disgusting. It was taken down….but not before receiving multiple anon asks about it. She ignored them, but when they started making porn of dreamcores CHILD character, sending it to them and BBD through anon asks+messages and practically taunting both saying “hahaha, you can’t do anything about it” bbd stepped in to report them again. They made so many pedophiliac art using dreams character, sent it to them and bbd, and when bbd reported them they started stealing bbds art as retaliation, reposting it on the same rule34 account and kept at the taunting. Even took a gift art bbd drew for dreamcore and made an explicit version making fun of dreamcores character, and stealing+editing bbd’s art without consent and posted it to rule34. It got so bad that she contacted rule 34 moderators about it, and after a while they asked the troll poster to take it down.

Not even a couple days later I start getting anon asks/taunts, with the troll linking their new rule34 account and showing me they stole one of my pieces (The Shinjuro and Hatomi comic) and were taunting me asking what I’m gonna do about it. I did something about it, not only did I report the art theft, I made sure to report to mods about the new account and gave them all the evidence that they are the same person from before on rule 34, even showing the multiple screenshots of this troll making multiple spam accounts just to harass not only bbd and dream, but others not even involved, those that have supported bbd and her art, and even came after me and sun because we were her friends. This troll found it better to be a coward, and hide behind spam accounts because they were so confident they would never be found. So cocky that they justified to themselves that art theft and pedo art is okay as they can bully the people they are jealous of. They went on for months calling dream bbd and sun broken white supremiscists that made art for eachother because white people stick together, that as them being a person of color started demanding they get free art too. Then They made the mistake of calling me a white supremicist, because me being friends with them and others they didn’t like meant I was white….i knew this was a taunt and a way to bait me and instead of keeping it private like they wanted it to be, I exposed them, answered their taunt and revealed that I was actually not white, I was colored, and I addressed both their corwardice and blatant racism for trying to justify their harrassment with the color of their skin. No matter what race, a shit person is still a shit person, and no amount of racial slurs they threw at us would make them right. That’s when they started calling me a Mexican taco muncher, and sent me more spam asks trying to make fun of me, even sent them to bbd and a couple others. I didn’t talk the insult seriously cuz they were entirely off the mark on my race and I knew they were just trying to goad me into a private message battle, so I made it public to others about what this troll was doing and if they were getting bothered to ignore them.

I was also made aware that there was a private discord that most of the Hantengu fan creators were a part of, me and bbd were invited but chose not to accept due to suspicions of the troll being on there, and after getting multiple screenshots of the drama going on there we were glad we didn’t. It proved that the troll was causing many problems on that server. Bbd had gotten to know one of these members from here on tumblr and even started talking to them both on tumblr and outside of that, which was on discord. Since bbd started becoming acquainted with them, I started talking with them as well. But then a couple months into it, the person bbd was talking to had a disagreement with a characters story, and instead of respecting bbds boundary had started to make a problem about it. All of it was discussed privately on discord and bbd, myself and sunbroken had chosen to keep the matter private and not give any more ammo to the troll who we knew was stalking all of our accounts as proven with the multiple spam asks, messages and stolen art. We had hoped the matter could be solved privately as the person responsible had at first agreed to give bbd some quiet time before they would sit down and talk about it. Despite some instances of them not respecting bbds boundary, bbd still chose not to spread any info as that was nobody else’s business, and chose to take down the art with said persons character as since that was her art she has every right to do that..

Until the troll came back and started harrassing again, claiming that how dare BBd do that, claiming this person bbd took the art down of was their friend. Acting as if they had any say over what bbd should post and not post. Considering what the troll was saying through anon asks referencing the person that BBd was on rocky terms with after the argument, we all went to the person to ask if they shared what happened with anyone not involved. Turns out, they did, shared it with one person who they thought was their friend and who was also a part of that same Hantengu server. Understandably due to the harrassment from the troll and finding that this person shared sensitive info with someone not involved, BBd cut contact. I chose not to as I wanted to find out more. For a couple months bbd had been making more content, the troll every so often coming back with more ridiculous spam asks calling her many expletives and mocking their art, the troll was ignored, and others who have been getting the same came to me with screenshots of the stuff they were getting. We all chose to ignore it. Well I suppose the troll didn’t like getting ignored, so then they started a new account on twitter to steal more art, and even started bullying georgette mademoiselle. Because they have no conscience, even started going back on the insults they referred to bbds character with, and started sending multiple messages to both georgette and bbd that georgettes character compared to Chizue was absolute crap. It was horrid, and bbd made sure to report them and talk with Georgette to show that this troll was doing that. So that was supposed to be the end of it right?

Not. The troll kept going. Confident they would never be found, still kept making fun of all mentioned previously, and even started mentioning bbd private tumblr+discord account in these spam asks. We thought it was strange how this troll knew as BBd does not share her personal account with any one, except for the one person from before that she cut contact with. Since the person was not forthcoming with anything going on, bbd had to go on the assumption that whoever they told led this troll to find their private account. And then the troll started stalking their Facebook. Finding old pics and threatening to apparently expose her? Which makes no sense cause bbd has nothing to hide, but it was disturbing how this troll was now stalking her personal accounts. So we kept digging. And since the troll sent me a spam ask taunting me with bbd face, saying their name and trying to guess where they live, I decided to contact them (I know them in real life, and found it disgusting how obsessed this troll was with bothering them. Throughout the back and forth the troll had made many things clear, that they had no intent of stopping, and that they will harass other people. Even going so far as to say they will impersonate again and again to drive her supporters away if it means making them miserable, sharing that they knew both of our discords. Here are the screenshots

They made this first account just this past week, which got deactivated, then came back with a new one, this time showing that they stole more art from bbd and posted it on another version of rule34 since last time they got banned from doing it on the other. This was the convo

After I called them out, after a day or two, sunbroken confronts the person who first shared bbd’s personal info with the other person, trying to get to the bottom of it, but out of fear they chose not to share initially. That and I started receiving threats from the troll trying to stalk my personal and find my face while also threatening to find out where I live. And then finally after a month of not speaking to me I get this from serenesaku, who was the one who vented to their friend ria about the situation from months before in the first place. Dream core apparently got screenshots from one of the members on discord, who apparently got it from a spam account which was the troll on tumblr, sending these to that member to send to dreamcore out of feign concern that apparently BBd was talking behind dreams back on discord. News flash, this chat was entirely fabricated by the troll, making a fake discord account using bbd private discord name, posing as them and making a chat log and wanting dream to see it so to frame bbd. For a text convo btw that never happened. I wouldn’t be surprised if said troll just took a pic of bbd discord name from the screenshots they got from serenesaku back when she vented to them, and just copy and pasted over these screenshots to make it look like bbd said them. And the sicker part is that they did this with mothzii back when the drama first started, impersonating them and sending it to their friends so to isolate mothzii. Serenesaku did not know better, their naïveté was taken advantage of, and because she shared this with another person the troll found their personal stuff and started making up fake evidence. When serenesaku approached me asking who was doing it to Dream, this is the convo that happened. And so many things that were not shared before were shared.

I know this is a lot. Frankly I am disgusted that such a toxic part of the fandom has found its way here and affected some of the good people I know and still attempts to harass me as I post this. I will not delete my account. If there is anyone who wants to know the truth, don’t be afraid to ask. Then again, if you don’t want to be involved, i don’t blame you either. Knowing this information has made me and bbd lose faith in what we thought was a fun fandom. I still hope it is, and that’s why I am making this post. The world is already a shit place, and the internet has its shit places too, but for those that want to advocate for truth and proper internet etiquette, let this be an example of what happens when people don’t properly communicate, that this is what jealousy and not treating other people with respect does. Yes demon slayer is fiction, but why would someone like this troll waste all their time and energy just to make everyone miserable for something that is supposed to be fun. Cuz that is what they want. To divide and conquer. They want attention and power, Don’t let this troll win. With the truth now posted, I hope this can bring those that want a fun environment together under a common purpose. This behavior from the troll is unacceptable, and I know the troll is watching so let this post show you that I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of speaking the truth. Neither is sun, neither is Saku, and neither are the ones you targeted. I know who you are, I refuse to play your game, and I won’t give up until the many creators I have come to cherish and respect can create without fear that your jealousy will cause another situation like this to happen again. We all have our own personal lives, as humans we are entitled to our own sense of privacy, seeing as how you violated that in the name of harassment, then surely that same respect can be extended to you. None.

The troll is a coward, full of jealousy and won’t stop until everyone is divided and they can have a fictional character all to themselves. it is pathetic. Shameful behavior that they perpetuate with spreading lies and misinformation, hoping they can get away with it again. The truth hurts, I know that and those that may have unintentionally have been in contact with the troll, you are not to blame. How could you have known that someone this two faced was this delusional. If I lose followers, that’s okay. This was never about followers, this was about sharing my stories with those that want it. Bbd wanted that too, before her privacy was infringed upon. Would any of you stay silent and let that happen to someone else close to you, I won’t and refuse to give up, cuz know better than to blame the fandom. This is just one miserable person that wants power over someone. If I mentioned you either with or without consent, my deepest apologies. This troll took advantage of people just wanting to ignore it, talking advantage of peoples trust and wanting to move on and put it all on someone innocent that they were jealous of. I have kept quiet, supporting bbd and those I can however I was able, but now I see the only way to truly bring people together is to show the truth. However ugly it may be, this is how it happened and has spiraled since.

Bbd may have left, but she has not given up, just because she deactivated her account doesn’t change the fact that she had a story she wanted to tell, to share with those that wanted to listen. The wrong person that came in and ruined it doesn’t change the impact her art and stories had on you guys. She wants to thank those that have been with her through all of this, whether it was silent support or the daily comments that always brightened her day. Dreamcore, you were one of those people that was both hurt and supported bbd, and that what this troll sent to Hurt you was not bbd , it was just the troll trying to harass you since you posted about your stress of the whole situation. They saw that their efforts were working on you and bbd, and so they did this to sow even more distrust. The spam account that sent this to the person that showed you these had the intention of setting you against bbd. I remember when you first started getting harrassed, how angry me, bbd and many others were that someone would do something’s so horrid, and then move on to bbd just for helping you. This is a lot, you are not at fault, you are innocent. While in the past I did not agree with Saku at times, they knew how important it was to tell the truth. And it is the truth now I wish to share so people are aware.

I tagged those bullied, and for those I did not tag, it is out of respect that you helped give evidence so the troll can be exposed, if you guys wish to be mentioned please let me know. A united front is better than what the troll wants, which is a divided one. As for @hearts4muzan /overworked , is talking behind others back, spreading lies and rumors, making light of what has been going on….is that funny to you? Are you proud that so many creators have left because of the constant harrassment, art theft, and stalking personal accounts. In what world is any of that excusable, for this not only to happen once before but for you both to help perpetuate another all in the name of attention. Did you think you were clever, so two faced playing as if you had nothing to do with this, now everything has been brought to light. What do you have to say for yourselves? And the just this morning you send this to Saku, since bbd deactivated their account, after you impersonated them on discord, and after sending harassment about bbds OCs for months

Saku knows who you are now, what kind of demented person taunts this after what you had done, and not only that says that because BBd is gone, Bbds character Katashi is now free to use?! Saku didn’t ask for this, sure she made mistakes, but nothing justifys saying that. Katashi is bbd’s character, Saku respects that, and you do not. Appalling.

To those below tagged, none of you deserved any of this unfair treatment, you are not to blame

@dreamcorechild

Saku

@georgette-mademoiselle

@sunbrokenswords

And what I’m sure is many others that have been harassed for no reason other than just innocently interacting with any of us, also not your fault. I know this may break alot of the trust creators thought they could place, who wants to say they talked with the ones responsible and had no idea, I understand this is both discouraging and will hurt. However there is one way I see this and that is what inspires me to give the truth now. This troll was never honest in the first place, they were a coward that preyed on everyone to manipulate and control. If they were never honest in the first place, then there was no trust to begin with. From that let this help teach and show that we as people will not stand for this.

#hantengu drama #hantengu simp troll #hantengu #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer blog #personal #iron embers speaks #troll #troll harassment #anti harassment #online harassment #stalking #warning #public exposure #demon slayer fandom #signal boost #share

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soapsilly · 9 months

Text

Reunion - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?)

Summary: It's been five years since Zoro had to leave (Y/N) and their son. Five years since he promised he'd come back for them. Now that they finally found the One Piece, will Zoro be able to choose between life as a pirate and his young family?

A/N: This is Part 3 for Betrayal and Redemption, so read that first... or don't. Who am I to tell you anything?

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

Zoro swore under his breath as he turned the corner and found himself on the same market place yet again. It's been five years since he's last been on this damn island but nothing about this fucking village seemed familiar to him. He's been wandering around for what felt like an eternity but realistically couldn't have been more than two hours or so. The townspeople were muttering and mumbling behind their hands once they spotted him. He didn't know if they recognized him from when him and his crew saved the village five years ago or if they had seen his wanted poster in the newspapers. Ever since the Straw Hats finally found the One Piece and made Luffy Pirate King, there hasn't been an issue without their faces plastered on the cover page.

After he rounded the same corner for yet another time, he had to admit defeat. Zoro just knew, (Y/N) would've found his abymsal sense of direction hilarious, if she were there. Often she would have him lead the way just to see where they'd end up, knowing full well that they'd been walking in the wrong direction all along. The memory triggered a familiar pain in his chest - one that would always appear whenever he thought about the girl he had to leave behind. He had promised to come back for her. Her and their son... Sora.

Zoro had thought a lot about them these last couple of years. The boy that was barely even a toddler when he last saw them - and yet clearly looked so much like him already - must've been around seven years now. Would he remember him? Could he forgive his father for leaving him and his mother behind? Did (Y/N) even want him to return? It's been so many years with no contact. Maybe she decided to finally move on. These were the thoughts that tormented Zoro these past couple of months during night watches. After they found the One Piece he wanted nothing more than to return to (Y/N) as soon as possible but the journey was long - many opportunities for his mind to wander.

"Hey, Zoro", Nami pulled him from his thoughts. The swordsman only grunted in return.

"I bet you're glad to finally see (Y/N) again after all those years, huh?", the navigator continued. She could sense the nervousness that surrounded her friend these last couple of weeks. She didn't blame him, she'd be nervous aswell.

"I guess", the mosshead has never been a man of many words.

"Do you miss her?", Nami's voice was quiet but he could hear her clearly. The Thousand Sunny was almost silent during those night hours - a stark contrast to it's chaotic state during the day.

Zoro didn't answer at first. Of course he missed her. He missed her everyday. Especially at night, when the two of them would sit down with (Y/N)'s homemade liquor to talk about anything and everything. It was then that Zoro got to truly open up.

"I do, you know?", Nami continued when she sensed the swordfighters struggles to find the right words.

"What if - what if I took to long?", Zoro turned to face the red-head. Talking about his feelings made him uncomfortable but Nami was (Y/N)'s friend. If anybody could help him tame the chaos in his mind it would be her.

The woman knew exactly what he was referring to. No need to elaborate. A sympathetic expression took over her features.

"Nonsense, you know her. It's (Y/N). I doubted her once... I won't make the same mistake twice. Trust me she waited", Nami didn't enjoy thinking back to way she treated her friend back then when she thought that (Y/N) had betrayed the crew during those two years they were separated. She knew, (Y/N) told her not to worry about it - that she'd have acted the same way - but the memories still hurt. Nami was determined to trust her friend this time around. They were Nakama after all...

Zoro sent her a nod but he wasn't quite sure if he actually believed what the red-head said or if he was only trying to convince himself.

"Oi, you two!", Zoro had enough of wandering around the market place, "I'm looking for uh - the witch?"

Their eyes widened when the two men realized who was standing before them.

"Oh, you're that Pirate Hunter dude! You found the One Piece", one of them answered.

"Yes, yes! Roronoa Zuko or something", the other guy agreed.

Zoro had to take a deep breath as to not lose his temper.

"The witch. Where can I find her?", he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yeah", one of them drawled out, "I'm sorry, man, but she died - like what? A few years back?"

Zoro couldn't hear a word from the bickering that followed about whether it's been two or three years already. All he could think about was the fact that he came too late. He felt panic rise up in his chest. This wasn't a situation he could fight his way out of. And what about their son? Where was he and who took care of him? He never felt so helpless before. There were a thousand thoughts rushing through his head - until a new voice interrupted his strings of thought.

"No, you idiots! He's looking for my mom", Zoro's eyes grew wide when he saw whom the voice belonged to. There was no doubt that the little boy before them was his son. He had the same green hair, the same lopsided grin - albeit a few of his teeth missing. Zoro felt like his head was spinning. He didn't know what to feel. Relief because apparently (Y/N) was well? Happiness? Fear? He had thought about this moments so many times but nothing could have actually prepared him for when it actually came to meeting his son. He had honestly relied on (Y/N) being there and guiding him through the situation but fate had some different plans for him that day. It was almost comical - how was he expected to handle these kind of situations when he couldn't even deal his own emotions most of the time.

"Right, right, right", one of the two men seemed to remember what the boy was talking about, "You mean (Y/N)! Oi, he means (Y/N)!"

Out of all the people Zoro could've asked, of course it had to be these two morons. He was just about to lose his temper, breathing heavy already, but his mini-me reminded him why he was even there to begin with. That didn't stop him from giving them the death glare as he followed Sora away from these two idiots, who by the looks of it didn't even notice it anyways as they were still deep in discussion about God knows what.

"They're idiots", the little boy's voice pulled Zoro out of his thoughts, "Mom's fine"

The swordsman noticed that the little guy didn't seem nervous at all. In fact, he started talking to Zoro as if he had known him his whole life.

"They were talking about Mim...", he continued. Zoro remembered the old hag that mentored (Y/N) during their initial two year separation. He met her briefly. She was old. Ancient even. His heart ached for his lover. He was glad that she had someone on this island. Some kind of support. He felt better knowing someone was there for her - that she wasn't alone. And still, the older woman was yet another person that left her to fend for herself. He knew his thoughts were merely a projections of his own guilty conscience. That it was actually him that left his girlfriend behind.

"We knew you'd come", the little boy happily babbled on as he led the way out of the village towards the edge of the forrest, "The others said you wouldn't come but Mom knew"

The little boy may have inherited his looks but Zoro noticed that his essence - the way he just happily talked and talked without a care in the world - was all (Y/N).

"Look!", the witch ran up to the swordsman and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him with her.

"What's going on? Who's hurt?", his free hand immediately found it's way to the swords that were hung closely by his hip.

"Huh? No one?", she scrunched up her face adorably, "Look what I found!"

Zoro could hear the excitement in her voice as she pulled him up to a meadow she had found while exploring the new island the Straw Hats stopped at. Her eyes marveled at all the flowers, plants and herbs that grew all over the place.

"Isn't it beautiful?", she turned to him wide a wide smile.

"Depends", Zoro grunted.

"On what?", her face fell. The mosshead noticed that cute little crease between her eyebrows that appeared whenever she was in deep thought or confused.

"Well, depends on how many of these plants could kill me"

"Most of them", she shrugged but couldn't help the happy laugh that left her lips, "Come on now"

With that she grabbed his hand again, already talking about what each plant could be used for, taking samples as she went, shoving them into the swordsman's arms so that he could carry them for her. Zoro didn't understand a word she was saying. He didn't mind though. He enjoyed her rambling about potions and balms.

"Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

Zoro smiled to himself as the memory played in his head.

"We're almost there", the little boy shouted over his shoulder.

And indeed, not even two minutes later (Y/N)'s little hut appeared before them. The mosshead noticed how similar to his lover the house looked. It was small. Whimsical. A plethora of flowers decorated the little gardenspace in the front. All in all a peaceful sight. But appearences can be deceptive. He knew that most of the plants were poisonous. No matter how beautiful they seemed, even a little dose could be deadly.

"Mommy!", the little boy yelled out as they approached the house, "Mommy, look!"

It wasn't even thirty seconds until the door to the hut swung open and (Y/N) hurried out, a dish rag clutched in one of her hands.

"What did you do now? Whatever it is that you caught, you better-", (Y/N) dropped the dish towel when her eyes fell onto the mosshead. Zoro's heart skipped several beats when he realized how close they were. All these years apart and yet he still felt like it was yesterday that the two of them kissed under the moonlight. She was beautiful. Eventhough she looked exhausted, she was clearly the girl he fell in love with. His (Y/N).

Sora excitedly ran up to his mother, squealing happily, "He's back! Look, Mommy. You were right. He came!"

(Y/N) patted his head - stroking the green hair - almost mechanical, her wide eyes remained on the swordsman. Her lips slightly parted as if she was trying to come up with something to say but struggling to find the words.

"Yes, love... I can see that", her voice was full of shock but she still did her best to sound excited for her son.

Zoro felt self-conscious. He didn't know what to do. Should he say something? Walk up to her? Would she even want that? He scolded himself. Why did he take a seven year old's word for it?

The mosshead was so busy with his thoughts that he almost didn't notice her walking up to him and practically flinging herself into his arms. Her head comfortably found it's place underneath his chin. Zoro got emotional as her scent filled his nose. For a moment they just stood there.

"I knew you'd come", he heard her whisper against his chest.

"Always", he answered as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

When she looked up at him, he could see the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He was just about to wipe them away with his thumbs, when their son - their son - interrupted the moment together.

"Mommy, I found him", he smiled brightly as he squeezed himself between his parents' legs.

(Y/N) hastily wiped her tears away before clapping in her hands once. An excited smile present on her lips, "You're right, Honey! And I think we'll need to celebrate that!"

"A party?", the little boy looked up at her with bright eyes, "Can we - can we make a cake for dad?"

Dad... Zoro noticed how the green-headed boy's voice tripped over itself due to the sheer excitement. The swordsman blinked a few times at the mention of his new title. He felt a strange feeling in his stomach area. Of course, he was his dad. There was no doubt about that. And of course, he wanted to be - of course. But still it felt so strange being called that, being welcomed back with open arms like that. He felt (Y/N)'s eyes flicker over to him before turning back to the child.

"Well, I'm sure your father would much rather celebrate with a good bottle of rum... Here", she handed the little boy some bills, "go back into the village and buy him a nice bottle at Old Mickey's place, yes? And when you're back, we'll bake something nice anyways"

Zoro's eyes widened. Did she really sent their son to buy hard liquor for them?

"Yes, Mommy!", the little guy nodded enthusiastically and skipped away.

"Did you just sent our seven year old to buy alcohol? Who in their right mind would sell alcohol to a child?", the swordsman raised his brows.

The witch shrugged, "Hopefully no one. I mean, they know him 'round here but still. He's only seven", she grinned, "Besides, you know I have my own liquor. You didn't forget about that, did you?"

The concerned look on her face hit Zoro straight in the heart. How could she ever think that he'd forget just a single thing about her?

"Okay but... I still don't understand", he furrowed his brows, "Why did you sent him away then?"

"Of course, you don't", she started laughing as she grabbed his hand to guide him into the hut, "Sora is so happy that you're here. Haven't seen him like that since that one time Mim made him float through the air... You seemed overwhelmed though. Sorry that he found you first. Ever since I told him about how you guys found the One Piece he's been patroling the island for when you'd arrive. He can be pretty stubborn you know? Thought I'd give you some space..."

(Y/N) grew quiet towards the end when she noticed her rambling.

"You- you told him about me?", Zoro was shocked.

"Well, of couse", she looked at him with those eyes - those eyes that he couldn't resist, "We always read the newspaper together during breakfast, you know? He loves hearing about your adventures. He wants to be a swordsman just like you. Or a devil fruit user like Luffy... Or both"

The swordfighter's chest swole with pride as he imagined his son wanting to be just like him. Maybe he could teach him?

"I missed you", her voice was low. Merely a whisper.

"I missed you too", he answered thruthfully, "I thought about you everyday"

And with that he crashed his lips onto hers. For the first time in five years he felt at peace. Like a she was the missing piece that finally completed him again.

When they eventually separated, she smiled at him, her hands already tracing circles on his thighs.

"You know? There's another benefit of us having some alone time", she mumbled against his lips, already climbing on top of him, "The downside? We won't have long..."

"After five years?", he panted, "I won't last long anyways"

The giggle that followed was like music to his ears. This didn't play out like he had imagined but with them the things rarely do. At the moment he was just happy to be back with his love - how her lips felt against his own. How her hands roamed his body. How hot her skin felt against his.

************************************************************************

"That scar wasn't there last time I saw you", she traced the pale pink line that decorated his side.

He shrugged. Being the Pirate King's first mate came with it's price.

"Neither were those", he gestured towards the little pictures that were plastered all over her ribcage. Each tattoo symbolized one member of the crew. A straw hat, three katanas, a clementine - even a little violine that represented Brook.

"This way I had you with me... Wherever you guys may have been", her voice was quiet. Peaceful.

"I see...", Zoro thought about her words. He knew she chose to stay behind but it couldn't have been easy for her. The Straw Hats were her family and even after all those years, she never stopped thinking about them as such, "But did you really have to get one for the ero-cook, too?"

He pulled a face. He didn't like the thought of any part of that pervert being anywhere near (Y/N)'s naked body - even if it was just some ink.

She laughed at how whiny he sounded as he fixated on the little lighter that resembled the one Sanji would always carry around with himself.

"So I take it, the two of you have not become best buddies then?"

Her question was only met with a contemptuous snort.

"Where are they anyways?", she continued - more serious this time.

"I asked them to drop me off here. Wanted to have some time alone with you before they would come barging in causing chaos again"

"That's almost romantic", she smiled, "For your standards, I mean"

"Wow, thanks a lot", he sarcastically replied but secretly he loved the way she just seamlessly picked up where they left off. There was no awkwardness. No unfamiliarity.

"They'll join us here in a couple of days...", the mosshead continued.

"Wow, it's going to be so strange seeing them again", she spoke moreso to herself than to anyone in particular.

"You don't have to be nervous... You're still part of the crew", Zoro's hand reached out to play with (Y/N)'s hair. A glimmer of hurt flickered over her face. It wasn't even a second but the swordsman still noticed.

"Well, we'll see about that", she forced herself to sound cheerful, "For now, let's celebrate. We should get dressed, Sora could be back any time now"

And with that she pushed herself off the bed to get dressed. A sight Zoro could get used to. This domestic life. A little house. A family. He never wanted this, never dreamed of it. But right this moment, this didn't seem so bad.

(Y/N) was right, not long after the two of them got dressed they heard the happy voice of their son approaching from outside.

"Here, Mommy", the little boy pushed the bottle of rum, he was carrying towards his mother.

"What the-? Sora!", Zoro watched his girlfriend as she struggled to find the right words, "Did Old Mickey seriously sell you this?"

"Oh, no. Here!", Sora reached into his backpocket and handed his mother the bills back that she had given him before he left.

"I don't -", she took a deep breath to compose herself, "Sora, why do you have this?"

"Old Mickey didn't want to sell me the rum. He said I was too young. I told him it was for Dad but he wouldn't believe me!", the child sounded appalled.

"So, instead of just coming back and getting one of us - you just stole it?", his mother was in disbelief but the little boy just shrugged.

"Fuck, Sora. You know that's not okay! I thought I taught you better than this"

"Oi!", Zoro interjected, "Cut the boy some slack! At least he's honest"

"Honest?", the swordsman couldn't help but laugh at how shocked his girlfriend looked, "He just stole a bottle of rum, Zoro!"

"Yeah, well but he didn't keep the money though", Zoro grinned, "He could've said that he bought the alcohol and bag the money for himself. Besides, what did you expect? You told him to go buy some rum"

"Well, not my proudest moment as a parent I guess", she massaged the bridge of her nose.

The swordsman decided to walk over to the witch, hugging her and pressing a kiss against her temple.

"Don't sweat it. We can't all be perfect"

Her content smile quickly turned into a slap to the biceps once she registered the words her boyfriend just said. He wasn't usually known for joking around - sure a few sarcastic remarks directed at the cook but other than that, the mosshead was always rather serious.

"Guys, you'll never believe what I witnessed last night", Usopp excitedly told the rest of the crew during breakfast. It was the morning after (Y/N) and Zoro's first drunken night together. Neither of them joined the crew for breakfast, too hungover from the night before.

Immediately Chopper and Luffy were intrigued. Leaning forward eager to hear what their friend had to say.

"Last night when I had guard duty I saw Zoro with (Y/N) goofing around", Usopp revealed waiting for his friends to be as excited for the newly aquired information as he was but the desired reaction remained absent.

"So what? (Y/N) is always goofing around", Nami shrugged, popping another blueberry into her mouth.

"No! No,no. Zoro was goofing around too", Usopp insisted.

The breakfast table remaind silent for a few seconds before the whole crew broke out in laughter.

"Yeah sure", Sanji grinned, "When I made my rounds last night, the marimo and (Y/N)-san enjoyed a few drinks together. Not that that alcoholic could distinguish a good wine from dishwater", he finished bitterly.

"Typical Usopp", Chopper agreed, hinting towards the snipers affinity towards bending the truth to make up the wildest stories.

"I mean it though", Usopp whined. Why wouldn't anybody believe him?, "They did impressions and everything! Zoro's impression of Sanji was actually pretty hilarious"

It took a few more rounds of convincing but slowly one after the other the Straw Hats started believeing the sniper.

"I knew she was a real witch... She cast a spell on him", Chopper whispered almost fearful of (Y/N)'s abilities.

************************************************************************

It was night and Zoro laid awake (Y/N) peacefully sleeping in his arms. It was a good day. Sora seemed to have alot of fun asking all kinds of questions about their adventures, fish-men and how to become a swordsman. So why couldn't he sleep?

He gently pushed (Y/N) off of him, hoping not to wake her, and got up to get some fresh air. It would only be a couple of days more until the rest of his crew would arrive. Zoro didn't know how he felt about that.

"Leaving already?", (Y/N)'s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"I tried not to wake you", Zoro knew his love was just teasing him.

"Well, you failed", she laughed as she walked up to him, hugging his biceps, "What's wrong with you? Do you already regret coming back for us?"

Zoro could still hear the smile in her voice but he knew her well enough to also hear the hint of genuine concern that swung along with it.

"Of course not!", the swordfighter was appaled, "You were all I could think about ever since finding the One Piece"

"What is it then?"

"I guess I feel guilty"

"Guilty? For what?"

"I know you said it was fine and that you made the decision yourself but all of this - raising Sora by yourself - it must've been so...", he struggled to find the words, "And - and... Sora! He's great and I missed so much. I just don't understand how - how ... How can you just forgive me?"

(Y/N) just listened to his word-vomit, letting him spill his feelings. It was rare that he said that many words without interruption - especially not with that deep of a meaning.

"Oh, Zoro...", the witch cooed, "You're thinking to much about all of this. It's really quite easy... There's nothing to forgive"

She shrugged. The mosshead tried to protest but she wouldn't have it, shutting him down immediately.

"There is nothing to forgive", she repeated this time more forcefully, "We are happy that you're here"

(Y/N) sent him a questioning look as if to ask if he understood her. A loving smile lit up her face when he finally nodded in return.

"Very good", she sighed, "And now let's get back to bed. Your son is a morning person"

************************************************************************

These last remaining days just flew by. Zoro enjoyed spending time with his little family and he was almost a little sad that their crew would disturb their peace.

"(Y/N)!", Luffy flung himself into the witch's arms, wrapping himself around her.

Her happy laugh filled the air.

"I'm so happy to see you all again", she grinned, "Congratulations! I guess I'm in the presence of royalty now"

(Y/N) was still busy greeting all of her friends when Nami spotted a certain green-haired boy hiding behind his mother's legs.

"As happy as I am to see you, (Y/N), where is my little nephew?", the navigator feigned.

The witch grinned, not being used to her son being timid.

"Guys, this is Sora. He's a big fan"

Nami crouched down, pulling the little boy into her chest and immediately peppering his face with kisses.

"Oooooh Nami-swaaaaan, you're so loving and kind~", Sanji was smitten with the way the red-head acted around the child.

Once Nami released Sora from her grasp, the cook leaned down holding out his hand for the little mosshead to shake.

"My name is Sanji and I'm-"

Sanji was interrupted by the little boy kicking him in the shin.

"Sora!", (Y/N) scolded her son.

Zoro couldn't hold back his laughter, patting his son on the shoulder to show his approval.

"Sanji, I'm so sorry!", the witch fussed over the cook.

"Like father like son, huh?", Sanji scowled at Zoro who still couldn't stop laughing.

"Yep", the swordsman had never been more proud in his life.

"Sora, apologize right this instant", the Straw Hats had never heard (Y/N) be this strict.

"C'mon, Babe! What happened? Out of anybody you instigated the most fights", Zoro was still laughing.

It was true. She always found the little fights her boyfriend and the cook would have hilarious. That's why she told her son about them during their bedtime stories but that didn't mean Sora could just do as he pleased.

"No fighting now", Nami interjected, "Sanji, make some food. We need to celebrate. The crew is finally back together"

Sanji did as he was told, happy to be of service. And he didn't disappoint. The meal he created was nothing short of a feast. There was more food than they could possibly eat - if it weren't for Luffy of course. Brook played some happy tunes. And (Y/N) felt at peace, it was just like back when she was still part of the crew. She was just getting to know Jinbei as she watched Sora dance arm in arm with Luffy, Chopper and Usopp, his legs dangling in the air. Her eyes wandered over to Zoro, who was enjoying a drink at the moment and she decided then and there to just let her mind rest for the night and worry about what's to come once the party was over.

************************************************************************

It's been a few days since (Y/N) and her son joined the Straw Hats on the Thousand Sunny. Sora didn't leave Zoro's side even once. The little boy loved watching his father practice and even begged him to teach him some. Zoro didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy spending time with his son just as much. Seeing the two people she loved most - being with her nakama again - all of this felt right. This made it all the more tragic when Nami anounced they'd have to leave soon.

"Great! (Y/N), go get your stuff. Sanji and Franky can help you carry everything", Luffy sounded happy, "Sora can stay here on the ship with us while you do that"

It was Sabaody all over again. Five years ago (Y/N) had to have the same conversation with her crew. She knew Zoro had obligations as Luffy's first mate, so she tried to savour their time together while it lasted. Maybe he'd visit them every couple of years - at least she hoped he would for Sora's sake. Her heart ached as she thought about the little boy. He loved his father so much. Losing him now would devastate him. (Y/N) tried to ignore the fact that she felt the same way.

She sighed, "Luffy... A pirate ship is still no place for a child. Especially now that you are pirate king. You've got a target on your back. All of you"

As if on command all of the Straw Hats yelled some kind of suggestion or protest - even Sora pleaded for his mother to reconsider.

The witch leaned down to be on eye-level with her son, taking both of his hands in her own, "I'm so sorry, Honey... but I promise they can visit us anytime. They found us once... They'll find us again"

She tried to sound cheerful so that her son didn't notice how hard this was for her but she could feel the tears forming already.

"No!", Sora screamed, "I want to be a pirate. Just like Dad!"

Before (Y/N) could answer, Luffy interjected.

"That's a great idea! I was seven when I started my pirate training!"

"But that's not the same!", (Y/N) had never raised her voice at Luffy before so when she realized her yelling she took a deep breath to calm herself, "Luffy, you were a devil fruit user already. Your grandfather is Garp and you spent a significant amount of time with Shanks. Sora is... just a child"

The crew was quiet as (Y/N) unloaded all her frustrations.

"Listen, I was so happy to see you again but I'm not part of your crew anymore and I haven't been for a long time. All those things you've accomplished - everything you've done - I took no part in it. These last couple of days were special but I'm need to take care of my family"

"But we are your family", Nami pleaded. She could only try to imagine how (Y/N) must feel. She knew her well. She knew that (Y/N) wanted to stay. She knew she would never ask Zoro to leave the crew for them because (Y/N) knew that Zoro would do so without hesitation. He loved her more than anything. Anyone could see that. But Nami also knew that (Y/N) was scared.

"I'm sorry...", the other woman shook her head, signaling for her son to say goodbye to the crew.

"Enough", Zoro had been quiet during most of the discussion but he had heard enough.

(Y/N)'s eyes were wide as she stared at her lover.

"I accepted your decision five years ago. I understood that it wasn't safe. I got stronger. We all did. We found the One Piece and made Luffy pirate king. I trained day and night to become the best. The strongest. And then I returned to you. I came back. I will not lose you yet again. Do you hear me?", he sounded almost angry, "I love you more than anything. You and our son. I love that he has your personality. I love that he wants to become a swordfighter just like me. You are not leaving and that's it"

"Zoro...", (Y/N) sighed.

"No! Just no. We can protect you. There's a fight? Fine! We'll fight, you'll go below deck and stay there with Sora until the coast is clear. What about school? I know you're going to ask. You are smart. So is Robin. You can teach him. Fuck, even Chopper can"

(Y/N) could see Robin nodding from where she was standing.

"Zoro-"

"No!", he wasn't finished, "What do you want me to do? Stay with you? Leave the crew? I will... Just say a word and I will"

The witch marched over to where the mosshead was getting increasingly more desperate by the minute. Once she reached him she put her hands on either side of her face.

"Zoro!", she almost yelled.

"What?"

"We'll stay"

The whole crew errupted in cheers as Zoro grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around, pressing a deep kiss on her lips. (Y/N) squealed in surprise - not only by his sudden movement but also because it was the first time that he had initiated closeness between the two of them when other people were around.

"But I swear, if anything happens to us, I'll curse you", she giggled once he sat her down on the ground again.

"I would never let that happen", he assured her.

(Y/N) knew things wouldn't be easy but they were her family and she trusted them. It's been years since she felt like she truly belonged somewhere but seeing her son so happy, she knew she made the right decision.

************************************************************************

Epilogue

Zoro had meanwhile turned towards his mini-me, who couldn't even believe his luck.

"Oi, Sora! Your training starts tomorrow"

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

247 notes · View notes

subarashiihibi · 6 months

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL ANGEL WIFE IZAYA ORIHARA!!!!!!! 🥰😘👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨😭😎🔥🫶🩷

i can't quite put into words what exactly izaya has meant to me over the past 8 years. one, it sounds really corny and i go off into at least 30 different tangents about all the little things that make him so endearing to me, but also i just dont really know how to sound eloquent and stuff. that being said, a lot of the person i am today is (for better or for worse) thanks to izaya, so i think if i leave it at that you can at least get it a little bit. ^_^

i was really excited to set this year's display up. i changed the room i used this time, since i got a new desk, and it was...kind of a challenge at first, but after moving around a bunch of furniture and whatnot, i made it work...!

i had to forego putting up a few other things... namely the rest of my bromides and postcards, but also all my shikishi. i need to invest in some way to display them... i also had two(!!) dakimakura... i had to leave out this year. </3 and the cardboard cutout i made when i was 16. 😭

as usual, i have a lot of stuff to say about this entire thing and the stuff around it, so i... will leave my rambling under the cut. (^□^)

my god putting this thing together was hell. i said 'challenge' earlier no this shit was like a fucking war omfg. the clear files kept falling i was miserable and praying to god (im not even religious). and then i had to tape behind the big izaya balloon poster cause it's covering my doorway and it kept getting pulled back to the door...? and it looked stupid. 🤦‍♂️ i wasn't originally gonna put the tables in here either. i really wanted to be able to fit the bed sheets on the walls. but i couldn't... and i needed more room to put the pillows and stuff, so it ended up working out perfectly.

(the only reason i didn't want to use tables was cause i didn't want something covering up izaya's sexy exposed feet in the china poster... 😟)

i was (finally) gonna get a cake this year, but after having the stress of two exams back to back this week and exams next week, i...was too exhausted lol. hopefully next year i won't have an awful overnight job or school making me miserable. (as if i'm not still gonna be a student next year☠)

the amount of durarara merch that's come out the past few years has left me feeling so spoiled... i hope they do a mail order for the 20th anni merch... i want all the izaya stuff without the crazy markups from resellers online🤬

also plz don't judge my toploader deco skills too much... i am not very experienced... and i also don't have a lot of stickers to work with... 🥺

at any rate... at this exact time last year, i was suffering inside the confines of my local walmart... i was working overnight, and my break was at 12am, so as soon as it hit, i ran out to my car to excitedly celebrate the date changing to may 4th...!

and then during my lunch break, i drove to the whataburger next door and did another 10-pull on the izaya birthday kuji while in the drivethru.

i didn't realize this until i started taking stuff down in my room (this is my bedroom... i can't realistically keep two large tables in here and a poster covering my doorway. i had to crawl under the table just to get in and out. my knees still hurt.), but... i actually forgot something i wanted to include... my izaya lightstick... 💔💔💔 it's okay. i will live. i'm happy with my setup as a whole so i have no qualms with this. i just need to make sure i don't make the same mistake next year.

on a (slightly) unrelated note, yesterday (may 3) was the 19th birthday of my favorite album ever from my favorite band ever, fall out boy's from under the cork tree! i was so happy when i found out it's right before izaya's birthday cause fall out boy as a whole has so many izaya coded lyrics it's crazy. (btw, their debut album tttyg came out on the 6th as well...!)

and then tomorrow is cinco de mayo... it's not a coincidence... latina izaya truthers rise up...

anyways...! i'm finally learning how to draw properly. the reason i was always so miserable when i tried before was cause i never knew what i was doing. i didn't know where to start from. because...i didn't use references...so hopefully i can draw something cute for izaya's birthday next year. ^_^

that's all i have to say...! i woke up early this (yesterday) morning at 9am so i could be there at 10am when midnight hit in japan, and it's already 3am on the 4th, so i'm exhausted lol...

i was so excited seeing all the izaya bday fanart on twitter though. all the beautiful artists making beautiful art...

but i've spoken too much now. sorry. i'm going to spend the rest of my night listening to fall out boy before i eventually pass out. bye bye !!!! ^_^

#drrr!!#izaya #durarara!!#izaya orihara #durarara

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07-bilin · 4 months

Text

high-school love pt.1

₊˚ପ⊹ summary: a slowburn of sorts in which you and akaashi meet as manager and player, slowly becoming close as the only first-years on the team

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 1,725

₊˚ପ⊹ warnings: none!

his name

Attending Fukurodani, you expected your three years at the school would be calm, something predictable. This was automatically shattered within the first two weeks of high school. The friend you had made in your class had ultimately been able to convince you to join the girls soccer team, so there you were, outside in the blazing hot sun in the month of April in your P.E getup that didn't fit you in any of the right ways. As a goalie, your job was to defend the opposing team, not letting them score any points, supposedly that's what you were supposed to be doing but ultimately in the end all of the balls ended up flying right past you, the last one hitting you in the face causing the coach to give you a lecture ending the scrimmage at that.

After the lecture, you were shooed off the field to go clean yourself up. You found a sink by the gymnasium and turned it on feeling the cool water on your finger tips. collecting the water between your hands you splashed the puddle on to your face feeling refreshed.

I mean, soccer wasn't your thing, but you joined in support of your friend's endeavors. Overall, there was a small chance of you making the team and even if you did you would probably be benched. But before that could even happen, you would find an excuse to join the team which would lead you back into square one of finding a club to join before being randomly placed into one, though, to be honest, you could care less about the club you joined, you agreed to tryout with your friend as you had enough with her talking about all the hot guys that she'd be able to see if she joined.

As you finished tidying yourself up, ready to head back to the field and most likely to get hit in a bunch of other spots, you saw a volleyball that seemed to have rolled out of a gym. You headed over to grab it and followed the noise of balls being spiked to one gym in particular. You pushed the mosquito net aside before entering the noisy gym, ball in hand.

Your attention was immediately drawn to the boy with gelled up whitish gray hair as he seemed to be the nosiest one here. Your eyes trailed his figure as he approached the net in a fluid motion before jumping up and slamming down the volleyball that seemed to have gravitated towards his palm.

"HEY HEY HEY! AKAASHI WASN'T MY LINE SHOT AMAZING??!"

Your eyes began to dart around to find this certain face named 'Akaashi'. You see a glimpse of him before you feel a slight tap to your shoulder.

Spinning around, your met with a girl with a clipboard, you can tell she's older than you by the way she stands, almost like she's accumulated with the place and used to all the buzz around her in the closed quarters. "You must be here for the manager position,?" she says as she stares at you glancing at the ball that you hugged to your chest even tighter than before after being caught in the act of your seemingly good deed. Although you remembered seeing posters all around the bulletin boards in the first-year hall about a manager position you didn't know it'd be today of all days.. You grimaced as you began to zone out before feeling a weight on your shoulder and glance up at another girl who seems excited to see you.

"Ah,,? We finally got a first year, whats your name little one?" She asks as she gives you a smile. The girl from before is somewhat shocked from the sudden actions of the girl on your shoulder as she comments on her position, "Yukie! Don't scare her, plus, she hasn't even said if shes joining yet." The second-year girl looks at you with enlarged eyes somewhat with an apologetic face before asking, "So, are you?"

You glance between the two upperclassmen who seemed to be starring daggers into you before ultimately stating you would be. The girl who had a ponytail in currently was Suzumeda-san while the one that was glued to your side minutes earlier was Shirofuku-san--but she preferred to be called Yukie-san. As the practice continued, Suzumeda-san ran you through the basics of everything. Although you weren't well versed in the sport of volleyball, the two girls washed away your worries as you joining the club was the first step to learning more about the sport.

From the two chattering upperclassmen, you learned quite a lot of the team already, the one player they mentioned the most was Bokuto-san. He was the ace of the team who often worked up quite a storm of emotions. You soon learned that he it was often a struggle to pick him out of his alienated stage but lately that wasn't the case, due to a particular person. Sure Bokuto interested you but a person who could deal with his mood-swings? Was there actually a person like that on the team? Before you could pry for more information the two girls moved on from the topic before giving you more instructions on how to be a manager for the powerhouse school.

By the end of practice, night had fallen upon them. Coach Yamaiji wrapped up the practice by giving the players a pep talk and eventually ended up introducing you to the team. "Hello, I'm L/n, Y/n from class 1-2, thank you for having me," you stated as you introduced yourself to the crowd of boys. To your surprise, they greeted you warmly which helped cool your anxiety down just a tad bit.

After everyone collectively cleaned up the gymmnasium, you were given your very own Fukurodani tracksuit and volleyball shoes, identical to the players. With these items, the idea finally settled down into your mind, you were really doing this now, full commitment and everything. A small smile formed on your face as you ran your hand over the embroidered characters as you stepped out of the gym into the cool spring night.

As you quickly snuck to the girls locker room, you sighed in relief as it hadn't been locked just quite yet. You quickly changed out of your P.E clothing and into your uniform, throwing on a light cardigan from your backpack before slipping the remaining items into your backpack and fishing out your phone. Switching it on, you were bombarded by multiple messages from a particular someone..

**F/n** "Y/N!!!" -5:28pm

"HELLOOOOOO"

"coach knows you disappeared!!"

"come back y/n before you get lectured again"

"gtg, you better be back soon or else.."

"YAH, I MADE THE TEAM!!" -8:47pm

"text me back when you finally respond,,, AND YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR DISAPPEARING!!"

You stifled a small laughter as you reached the end of the messages from your friend. You felt bad for leaving her behind but from your perspective of her from the past two weeks you think she'll be fine and in no time she'll be best friends with the entire team.

As you approach the gates of the academy with your earbuds plugged into your ears with your eyes staring down at your phone thinking of a reply for F/l/n-san, you don't notice a certain boy in front of you and he seems to not have noticed you either as the two of you eventually collide into each other which ends up with you on the ground, an earbud falling out in the process.

You keep your composure calm as it was your fault and your gaze eventually lands on a boy that wears the Fukurodani uniform quite strictly. Typically the boys will unbutton the jacket but he keeps it buttoned up and it seemed like his tie was also ironed that morning. You shift your gaze up to his face, a sharp glint in his eyes, almost like he's calculating his every move constantly. Much to his clothing, his hair seems to be the most untidiness part of his, frayed in several directions but it fits the way his face is shaped, making him look rather handsome.

Eventually, you notice the hand he placed out for you to reach for god knows how long as you were admiring his beauty. You grab it and feel the callouses he has all over them, must be a sports player you muse.

"Thank you,, uh--," you begin as you get a better look at his features face to face, seeming to click within your mind that you've seen him before, or at least a glimpse of him.

"Akaashi, Akaashi Keiji." He responds calmly. "Are you okay?"

You give him a slight nod as you release your grasp from his hand before fidgeting with your own. "Sorry, that was completely my fault, my name is L/n, Y/n". You say as you give him a nervous laugh trying to not lock your eyes into his. He gives you a small smile before saying it was alright and that he hadn't been paying much attention either. The two of you stand there for a good couple of seconds before you let out another nervous chuckle.

"Well, I'm gonna go this way now Akaashi-kun, see you around school!" You say as you wave bye to him.

"Mhm, see you tomorrow L/n-san," he replied before slipping away from the school leaving you alone with your thoughts. As you neared your home, you pondered over what he meant by see you tomorrow.. Was he going to track you down and demand for you to pay repercussions. You shivered at the thought of it. Only when you were about to drift into slumber you realized.

Sitting up in bed, "SO THAT'S WHO HE WAS!!" Akaashi, the mystery man, setter, and only first-year on the starting line-up of Fukurodani was the one guy able to calm down Bokuto-san and you just clumsily bumped into him and had no idea what his name was when he probably already knew yours explaining why he smiled upon your reactions.

You flung yourself around in bed not being able to sleep but eventually succumbed into slumber as the next day awaited your presence.

next chapter --->

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ lin's work #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #hq akaashi #fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #fukurodani #series

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britcision · 8 months

Text

AND HERE WE ARE! Totally getting this out in February well done team! And this is gonna be our last chapter before a wee teeny tiny time skip and Jason’s finished core! What a beautiful day 🥰

We’re getting another two-parter too, because Danny and Jason refused to let me get to the end of this lil introductory arc without at least one more pile of abject fluff! But finally, we’re ready to begin the plot!

Once again, the link to the AO3 version is in the first chapter and the 15th chapter; you can see it in the text for the link if you wanna subscribe to be told when it updates 😁

First Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

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So That Just Happened part 1

Back in her own room on the other side of the country from Gotham, Sam Manson reclined back into giant, coffin shaped body pillow her beloved girlfriend had given her when they moved and contemplated her phone.

The brand new Wayne-chat was blowing up satisfactorily, although apparently Tim was a massive stalker too. That was probably a good thing; it meant she hadn’t actually nuked Tuck’s chances with his nerd-crush. Now they could bond over their mutual stalker tendencies.

But, did that make her revenge less effective?

It wasn’t like she was actually out to ruin his life, but she’d kinda like to leave a mark. Something that would make him think twice about letting her think he and Danny had fucking died in Gotham in her absence.

Or. Well. Gone radio silent in Gotham, which was probably actually worse because if they were dead she’d know exactly where they were.

The Wayne chat were all pretty sure Tim and Tucker were together too, and Sam’s new best friend Babs had even pulled up the feed from their living room tv somehow. Sam wasn’t exactly the tech wizard Tucker was, but… after seeing that, she disconnected her and Val’s TV from the wifi.

And settled in to remote watch Tuck get his ass kicked at Spiderheck, apparently. At least for a little while; until something else on her phone caught her attention.

It was… almost funny. While she knew she was a whole three timezones away, she’d never really felt left out before. Like maybe she should have stayed on the east coast…

Not that she regretted it, of course. She had a good job, a good school, a wonderful girlfriend who’d been so excited to get into a good school and really go to town on the business department.

(Apparently there were posters of Val’s face in the ethics classrooms. Sam refused to ask if they were golden example or dire warning.)

She was just… a long way away. Even a long portal away, and… being back with the guys, even in Gotham, made the quiet of their comfy little apartment seem lonely.

Huffing, she turned and traced her fingers through the leaves of her mimosa plant on the windowsill beside the bed. They curled gently shut at her touch, and made her smile. Just like always.

She was happy to be home. She wasn’t technically liminal enough yet that it was her haunt, but… well, for all the jokes Val made, Sam had to admit she’d put down roots. She loved her job at the greenhouses, and her internship at the botanical gardens.

She loved scaring the hell out of the dudebros in Val’s business classes who thought ethics were a waste of time. She loved sharing messages with Jazz about the boys, laughing that even three hours ahead, Tuck and Danny still couldn’t get up before them.

She was kinda considering texting Harley about Timblr too. Not like, for any particular reason; if Tim’s family weren’t gonna embarrass Tucker enough, Harley probably wouldn’t either. She’d probably think it was adorable.

Or, y’know, worrying evidence of obsession. Psych types worried about stuff like that, usually.

Sam was kinda also considering sending Harley Jazz’s number. Jazz might still be skating just on the neurosurgery side of the line, but she’d always been big into psychology. Big enough to try and triple major, and only drop to major-major-minor after the third pre-exam meltdown.

And she could use having someone else do the shrink bit on her a little more often. Although really, for that Sam should make her a professional appointment; friends didn’t ask friends to psychoanalyze their overprotective pseudo-sisters. And Jazz could use more friends.

Jazz could use a transfer to a specialty that would let her sleep once in a while, a more stable supply of fresh ecto, and about six weeks in a meditation retreat to get the accidental telepathy under control, but more friends would be good too. And less stubborn insistence on her second try for double majors.

Maybe the switch to psychiatry full time would be good for her? Or psychology. Sam was a little fuzzy on the difference, which one Jazz was currently still minoring in, and which one Harley did.

(Jazz’s current second major was neurosurgery, which Jazz insisted was totally less taxing alongside a neurology major because it was the same body part. She was the only person in her class attempting the double major though, so.)

Humming tunelessly to herself, Sam flicked back into the group chat. Babs was still sharing the feed… brows drawing in, Sam frowned at the little spider figures still fighting to the death. Now, she wasn’t as big of a gamer as she used to be, but she was pretty sure Spiderheck didn’t actually offer red berets.

Snorting a laugh, she flicked back out of the chat and opened a new one, adding both Jazz and Harley. All it needed was the perfect name… something that would grab both of their attention.

Obvious. Child’s play.

Snuggling back into her coffin pillow, Sam grinned down at her phone screen.

Danny Has A Boyfriend chat was live.

Having eight legs wasn’t exactly the same as suddenly having four new ones, or two new legs and two new arms. While the first two were definitely functioning as “hands”, being the ones to pick up and use all of the weapons, Tim had quickly learned that he could grip with any of the eight “feet” that were available.

Yeah, spinning a laser staff all the way down one side of his body and up the other was fucking cool.

He’d adjusted pretty quickly during their “practice” round, while they all got used to the web slinging and worked out how to open the boxes and use the weapons.

(Tucker had swung himself into the lava by accident, so they’d started a second round.)

Tim felt pretty much ready to go, although if he was honest with himself… his only actual complaint was that he didn’t have a camera.

Conner had asked Tuck at the start of their second round if his powers had been nerfed to make it “fair”. Tucker, sweet innocent Tucker, had managed to convey a sidelong look even looking at even without a face on their little blob bodies and said he didn’t think Conner needed a nerf.

He just needed to understand how the powers worked, and they could be incorporated into the system. Which, well, was like catnip for Conner.

At least Tucker seemed a lot less flustered about talking to him while they were both spiders, because Conner had started talking his ear off about TTK and hadn’t stopped since.

Tim was kinda considering swinging over and taking them both out, just to get the game moving. But Conner was cute when he got really into something, and being a headless little spider body did not seem to have changed that.

He spent the time practicing with the webs instead, spinning and tossing himself around the map. It was pretty similar to using a grapple, although he wasn’t exactly sure whether or not the web was coming from his own body.

If it was, it was coming from inside a foot, which wasn’t how actual spiders worked… but Tim was pretty sure that was on Spiderheck, not Tucker.

Being able to run around upside down was the biggest change for him, and pretty cool. Tim scuttled around under a couple of the higher platforms for a while, planning his strategy.

Honestly, he was pretty sure TTK was going to wind up fucking Conner over rather than making anything easier for him. You’d think that flying would be an advantage in Spiderheck, at least as far as avoiding lava or an out of bounds, but Tim knew pretty explicitly how far it took Conner to stop.

It wasn’t exactly on a dime, and in this game? The pace didn’t exactly allow for imprecision.

And they were wasting time talking about it rather than getting used to having an extra six hand-feet.

Still upside down, Tim twisted until he could see the other two spiders. Which was when he learned that… they did kinda have their faces on them. Just, instead of being in a face position, on the front of his body that he was seeing out of, it was just sorta… plastered across the body.

Like a photo skin mapped onto a flat blob.

He considered letting the other two know; if anyone walked into the room, they’d probably be able to see their little faces on the screen. If they were just standing around talking.

Also, the pictures’ mouths weren’t moving, which hadn’t been weird when Tim was listening to them talk and didn’t think they had mouths. Kinda was to look down on Conner’s smiling face and hear his voice at a mile a minute.

Tucker probably already knew, and might have done the faces on purpose? And if he hadn’t, it was gonna be pretty funny to see what happened when he noticed.

He’d gotten progressively better at actually talking to Conner the longer he wasn’t actually looking at him, and the focus being on the game had helped too. Face in the game? Probably gonna throw him again.

And it was probably time to get things actually moving, so he could enjoy that.

Humming softly to himself, Tim scuttled across to the loot crates, found himself a double ended lightsabre, and dropped down on Tucker and Conner’s heads.

“Sooooooo…” Danny clapped his hands, doing his best to make his broad grin at least look a little innocent as he floated sideways into Jason’s field of view, “not that that wasn’t adorable and dramatic and everything, super touching, buuuut…?”

He almost laughed as Jason jumped, having apparently forgotten Danny was there for a hot second, then pulled his hand back from Lady Gotham’s to glare at him. The Lady herself didn’t bother hiding her chuckle, settling back to recline once more on a cloud of smog.

“Was there something you needed, Phantom?” She asked with a dry amusement.

Danny shrugged innocently, sticking his hands in his spectral pockets. Much more dangerous than regular pockets, but he’d not been doing more than blob wrangling lately.

“Not so much what I need, just, y’know, trying to keep things on track. I dunno if you’ve got other plans for the night Jay, but we were with Frostbite for a while and if you did…” he trailed off, and Jason grimaced.

“Not what you’d call set plans, but…” Jason trailed off as well, and Danny could feel the guilt even before it tried creeping in.

Nope, not having that. He’d almost talked himself into that bullshit already tonight, none for Jason. He nodded airily, floating up to drape an arm over the larger man’s shoulder.

“All I’ve gotta do is get to bed before midnight, so I’m not rushing now that Tucker’s found himself a new ride.” Waggled eyebrows punctuated that comment with enough emphasis that Jason snickered, darker feelings pushed aside without finding purchase.

“What, you don’t wanna go watch that train wreck in person?” Jason teased with a lopsided half smile.

Danny pulled a face, both at the thought of Tucker’s goddamn disastrous attempts at flirting and… well, the possibility of running into Bruce again. Maybe Constantine.

Danny was maaaaaybe kinda avoiding the wizard since he’d started collecting the other contracts on his soul; it wasn’t like he wanted them for nefarious purposes, it was just fucking weird. He didn’t like owning people. Not even overgrown Sour Patch Kids in trench coats.

(At least Constantine was still alive though. Those unlucky souls who died still bound to Pariah damn near went through a full reboot. No memories, no personality, none of what Danny would have thought of as like, the core components of a soul.

So far nothing anyone had done had been able to help them, and Danny had a nasty feeling the final answer would be Ending them. The Observants didn’t want to, they were perfectly happy with a thrall army so long as they controlled it, but Danny was firm.

No slaves, no thralls. If the only way he could free them was through a final and permanent death… he would.

But Clockwork was still looking, and so long as the ancient of time thought there might be a way… Danny held out hope too.)

For now, he shook his head quickly, holding up both hands.

“No way man. Bruce already hates my guts, I’m gonna keep a healthy distance.”

For both their sakes, really. Jason’s mood every time Bruce had spoken to him today kinda proved he hadn’t listened to Danny’s advice and stepped up. Not that Danny had exactly expected him to; again, hated his guts.

Jason pulled a face but didn’t bother to argue; he’d probably rather not actually deal with the old man for a third time either. Instead he just shrugged, turning his attention back to Lady Gotham.

“Do you know what time it is in Gotham now, my lady?” He asked, and the really weird thing was that it didn’t actually sound weird.

Danny always felt awkward and formal whenever he tried to address a ghost by their title, and Lady Gotham was the very worst because she never bothered to hide when she was laughing at him. Which was, y’know, every time he said it.

(He wasn’t gonna just call her “Gotham” though. That would be worse, so he just sucked it up.)

On Jason’s lips, words like “my lady” just sounded right. Danny flashed back for a moment to snow in a graveyard, and Jason knelt before him quoting Shakespeare. There was something in Jason that was just made for flowery language and dramatic proclamations.

Lady Gotham clearly agreed, bestowing a fond smile upon Jason before inclining her head back for a moment, those red on black eyes glowing suddenly brighter. Looking into the living world, or right up Clockwork’s ass?

“It’s coming to ten o’clock,” she said softly, something almost like regret in her tone. The smile that she turned back to them was softer, sadder.

Danny’d feel bad about being the one to point it out, except, yeah. He’d had to. Ghosts in general didn’t exactly think about time. It was a problem for the living, so - him. And Jason.

Who didn’t seem nearly so sorry with the answer. He nodded, fingers beginning to drum against his thigh.

“Time for a few more questions, then.” That wasn’t a question, and if Danny was completely insensate or possibly locked in a sensory deprivation tank he might have warned Jason about talking to a powerful spirit like that.

It’d need to be a damn good tank for him to miss all the signs though; Jason was so in the good books. Lady Gotham just smiled and nodded, gesturing once more with her traffic cone.

“Of course. And, of course, we will have plenty of other opportunities to speak. I may spend much of my time here, but now that we have been introduced… I can also speak to you there, if you would like?”

It was a delicate question, and Danny hesitated, suddenly wondering if he should… well, elaborate again.

“Uh… yeah, sure? I’d like that?” Jason asked, clearly confused by the reticence, and that made up Danny’s mind.

“She’s not going to sound the same,” he explained quickly, giving Lady Gotham a quick smile. She smiled back, gesturing for him to continue, because none of the damn older ghosts explained shit for themselves.

Danny totally didn’t roll his eyes.

“Like, the way we talk to her in the Infinite Realms is kinda the abstract? She looks kinda human,” he added, gesturing vaguely at the Lady.

Jason’s brows furrowed for a moment, but he felt more curious than concerned.

“So… she’s an anthropomorphic personification, but not in the living world?” He asked, and Danny’s eyes nearly crossed.

He turned to Lady Gotham, hoping that this might be some weird city slang, and she laughed at him. Again.

“Yes,” she agreed with Jason instead, which absolutely did not help. “It’s easier for me to speak with you here, using eyes and ears like your own. But building and maintaining this shape in the living world is… complicated.”

“Because her real body there is the city,” Danny added, privately resolving to ask Sam what the fuck Jason was talking about later.

Honestly, Jason would probably get along real good with Mr Lancer. They both liked weird words.

At least he actually looked a little confused too now; Danny had freaked the first time Lady Gotham talked to him out in the city itself. He gave Jason a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“You’ve gotta see it to believe it, man. Just… it’s gonna be weird.” Not the most helpful, sure, but Danny was doing his best!

Jason nodded slowly, willing to table it for now, and refocused on Lady Gotham, something darker now welling in the purpose building inside him.

“So you said the Joker wasn’t from the Curse,” he said bluntly. Danny flinched, more from the lack of any aura inflection than the remnants he could feel.

Yeah, a lotta Gothamites hated the Joker specifically, but if Danny had even the faintest doubt of who’d killed Jason… the black, leaden lump of Death in Jason’s aura wiped it out.

Lady Gotham stilled too, her own smile fading as she regarded Jason. Those red and black eyes were suddenly so much older, so much sadder.

“Yes,” she agreed softly, lowering her traffic cone to rest at her hip. “Are you sure?”

‘Are you sure you want to know?’

Or ‘Are you sure you want to know now?’

Danny wouldn’t put money on which she’d intended, but it didn’t take a genius to know the answer to both. Stubborn, emotionally repressed, and self destructive as hell, bat-training only left one answer.

Jason nodded firmly now, his jaw clenching.

“Yes.”

Lady Gotham studied him for a moment longer but didn’t argue, inclining her head gently.

“Then I will be brief. While the Curse has always been part of the city, feeding on fear and despair, in recent years we have both felt… something else. I told you of the malevolence on the land?” She asked, and Jason made a soft, impatient noise.

“And that it’s where the Curse comes from, yeah. And that the Joker is different,” he prodded.

Danny made a face. He was usually very much on the side of blunt answers, and knew full well that the Lady wouldn’t actually like, break Jason for being mouthy. He was very, very used to seeing favouritism from the outside, and Jason was clearly a firm favourite.

Maybe because he was currently Gotham’s only actual part ghost child? (To be fair, Danny didn’t think that’d change much in the fullness of time; Jason was his favourite of all the bats alive or dead.)

Whatever it was, his interruption only brought a flicker of a smile to the Lady’s lips, which vanished just as quickly.

“Yes. The Curse is indeed the original manifestation of that malevolence, given form and now, purpose. But even that malevolence came from somewhere; Gotham lies on a crack between worlds, older than time. Every world in the multiverse exist along certain markers; certain weak spots. Gotham is one of them.”

“Of course it is,” Jason grumbled beside him and Danny shifted closer, brushing their shoulders together.

Personally, he figured that if Gotham was a weak point in the universe and all the bad shit just leaked through, they were probably doing pretty well for themselves. Then, he’d seen the depths of the Ghost Zone; he knew what else could be trying to leak through.

Which, obviously, meant the good luck had to end.

“When the Joker died,” Lady Gotham continued, only to be cut off by a startled “What?!” from Jason and a totally-super-dignified squawk from Danny.

“You are not gonna tell me that asshole’s a ghost!” Danny moaned, dragging his hands down his face. Honestly, if he’d missed a whole actual ghost in the city for an entire year too, he was never going to live it down.

Like any of the other ghosts had any fucking clue what it was like being half alive… or living fully inside a city spirit’s haunt. Let them visit Lady Gotham’s and see what they sensed.

“Who the hell killed the Joker?!” Jason demanded, something weirdly like panic spiking through anger. “It wasn’t fucking Bruce-”

Lady Gotham silenced them both with a pointed look, shadows growing suddenly long and dark under her stare. Then she returned her gaze to Jason, her expression sombre.

“The Joker is not a ghost, nor a halfa. Bruce Wayne resuscitated him, which may be all that kept him from becoming a manifestation himself; he was killed not only in Gotham, but by a nexus point, in rage and revenge and hatred.”

There was something dark in Lady Gotham’s eyes now, something black and burning and for half a second Danny could swear he felt that rage himself, deep in his chest.

“Something else leaked through in the short time that he was dead,” she went on, her gaze firmly locked on Jason’s and Danny couldn’t imagine just how much the older-younger halfa was feeling under its full force. “Something small, and hungry, and craving death because it was denied his - the death I believe would give it shape.”

It wasn’t enough for Jason, that much was obvious; bitterness-frustration-grief hung in the air in a cloud almost thicker than the Lady’s smogs, and this time Danny gave in to temptation.

Let his own soothing-sorrow-loss twine through, even if he didn’t exactly understand the cause of the feeling. Jason startled a little, knocked from grumbling something that hadn’t been for anyone but him, but his hand reached back for Danny’s. Squeezed tight, even as the bitterness deepened.

His eyes narrowed, he remained focused on Lady Gotham though.

“Of course. Of course he fucking brought the clown back, even after someone did the world a fucking favour,” he hissed through his teeth, then raised his voice more clearly. “So, what? No one can ever kill the Joker, or Gotham gets another curse? Who’d fucking notice at this point?”

A genuine sorrow and pain passed across Lady Gotham’s face but she schooled it, kept her own aura calm and composed… or at least in closer than they could feel. There was probably a reason she’d put space between them again.

“Not quite, but close,” she agreed softly, those red bat eyes somehow more gentle even against the black pupil. “This other entity is already here, growing each day. Every violent death in Gotham is being consumed by it, which I will admit has strengthened the truce between the Curse and myself. Neither of us wish to feed it any more than necessary.”

Danny’s brows furrowed at that and he tried to think back to everything that Frostbite had ever told him about spirits. Not the dead-people kind, but the Neverborn; entities, concepts, ideas given form. Like time, and cities.

“So… when did the Joker die?” He asked cautiously, and felt surprise jolt through Jason. Lady Gotham gave him a quick glance, and cocked her head at Jason himself.

“Not so long after Jason did. A matter of months, less than a year, though he was dead less than a few minutes.” There was something in her tone, a weight on the words that made Danny think he was on the right track… but that she didn’t want to say it.

Which. Well. That was all kinds of bad fucking news if an entity as old as Lady Gotham was wary of speaking it into being. Luckily, Danny was just a fucked up little half ghost who had absolutely no supernatural tie ins to things like belief.

And he believed in just laying all the cards on the table before he decided if he had to flip it.

“That’s really young for any kind of belief spirit,” he said bluntly, watching Lady Gotham’s eyes. Saw… just a hint of something, creasing the corners, and seriously considered reaching his aura to hers for the first time today.

It’d save so much time to just get the message through feeling, but… if she preferred words, the words had to be important, and Jason probably needed words.

Fuck, they’d all need words, because this was going to be a goddamn bat-briefing if Lady Gotham was filling them in, and Mr Emotional Repression Is My Soulmate was not going to be up to aura reads.

Chewing his lower lip, he thought through the next stage a couple times before speaking slowly, watching for any hint he was still on the right path.

“If… it’s grown fast enough that you both noticed… it’s not new?” He tried, wondering briefly if he’d retroactively doomed them all by thinking about “what else could break through” from the depths of the Zone.

Lady Gotham shook her head though, gesturing impatiently through her smoke to clear it… maybe the first sign he’d ever seen that she didn’t control it entirely.

“No. That much, we are both certain of. This entity… it is new and unformed, with no Name of its own. At the moment, all of the fear it wreaks is only feeding belief in the Curse, which is why it only has death. But there is already a will there, long before it should even have awareness. And it wants to grow.”

“Oh great, so Joker’s got a Pitty 2.0 but his is on the outside,” Jason quipped, irritation sparking through him… and Danny was kinda glad to see it, honestly. Just a little flash of the guy he’d been getting to know in all the dark.

Even Lady Gotham managed a brief smile, and didn’t actually bother refuting it; closing her eyes for a moment, she waved her hand and the clouds of smog between them solidified briefly into a model of the city. Buildings only, but with horribly empty shadows between them.

“The Joker’s death gave it an entrance, and his revival denied it his shape, his Name, and the fear he commands. But it is no longer fixated on killing the Joker - and it was, for several years. It pushed him before it had the power for anything else, driving him further, feeding poison to those around him, trying to have him killed so that it could become The Joker, the pure essence of every bloody mark the clown left on Gotham. And it very nearly succeeded,” she added softly, her gaze turning back to Jason with an almost tangible sorrow.

Something in Danny’s gut iced over, and suddenly he was really, really glad he didn’t know what she was thinking.

Bruce looked better as he rose from the table, Diana decided, watching her old friend closely. For all that he’d come with an actual reason for his doom and gloom (for a change), his attitude during the briefing was positively relaxed compared to their own discussion that followed.

He would still be worrying and fretting, she knew him too well to believe anything else, and… she knew why. While Diana had no children of her own (though she had met and heard of other versions of herself who had), she did dearly love her own proteges, and those of her friends.

She remembered Jason as the young, sweet boy who’d stumbled over every word he said to her and stared at her like she’d hung the stars. She remembered Bruce’s grief, Batman’s rage, and the shadow that hung over the Dark Knight with every step until Tim Drake took him to heel.

She knew that there was too much there, the guilt and pain and loss and grief for Bruce to see Jason objectively, and she didn’t begrudge him that. Nor did she condone it.

It only hurt both men, and while she would not give her opinion when it wasn’t wanted… well, she was aware Bruce spoke to Clark of his worries around Jason much more often than he would to her. This time though, she’d had no choice.

She knew the man well enough to know what was truly scaring him in this situation; that Jason would be taken from him again. He was at least as upset by this “Danny” boy as the thought of war with an entire realm.

It would have been cute, if he wasn’t a grown adult man who prided himself on critical thinking. Or actively forcing his son away with his own actions at every turn.

Still, there was one piece of counsel she could give. The thing he hated the most of all was a mystery. And while she also didn’t usually condone his stalking-as-a-sign-of-affection…

“Batman.”

He stopped in the doorway but didn’t look back, still as a statue. At least he was listening.

A fond smile pulling across her lips, Diana shook her head. Let the formal tones of Wonder Woman return to the voice of a friend.

“You see many dangers in the unknown. Perhaps you might reassure yourself by getting to know young Danny Fenton as a person, rather than a potential threat.”

He stayed frozen in the doorway for a moment longer, then nodded his head sharply and swept away.

Diana stifled a chuckle. Honestly, for all Constantine had come to her as if the world were about to end… all of their problems with this Infinite Realm were perfectly clear to her.

The American government had overstepped drastically with their Anti Ecto Acts and would be brought to heel.

The new ruler of the Infinite Realms had turned their head in this direction, and guided them to what must be fixed.

And young Jason Todd, while far from the only hero who had died and returned, had been chosen by this ruler to be favoured with protection, in exchange for service.

Of course, it may all blow out of control and become as dire as her dear friend already seemed to believe it was, but for all Bruce was constantly creating contingencies and backup plans, he very rarely had to use most of them.

She turned her attention to John Constantine instead, the magician seeming much less inclined to make himself scarce than usual. At least he had also calmed considerably, and was even smiling in his own crooked fashion after Bruce.

“You know he’s gonna go stalk that poor kid even more now?” He asked sardonically, pulling another cigarette from his pack but not reaching for the lighter.

Diana hesitated for a moment.

She’d meant for Bruce to talk to Danny, preferably directly. But Bruce did not like talking to new people; not without thorough research and a chance to prepare.

Then she shrugged.

“If it will keep him from disrupting our already tense situation with the Infinite Realms, better that he distract himself with more fatherly concerns,” she said simply.

Constantine snickered again, then frowned.

“Wait, fatherly concerns? For some kid his boy’s known like, a week?”

This time, Diana didn’t bother to restrain her smile, glancing down at the phone in her pocket.

“Merely a week, perhaps, but according to Wonder Girl they have already been caught at least once without their trousers.”

Which hadn’t been part of the official presentation, of course. Nor apparently whatever Bruce had already shared with Constantine, as the mage promptly nearly swallowed his unlit cigarette and began choking.

Diana gave him a carefully gauged slap to the back, sending the now soaked and crumpled smoke across the meeting table, but politely did not laugh.

Jason was pretty sure he was going to puke. Or scream. Maybe both.

It wasn’t bad enough that Bruce had refused to kill the Joker, to stop him from killing anyone else, no, he’d fucking brought him back to life. Given the fucking Joker the chance that none of his victims ever got.

None of them except Jason.

And now apparently even wanting the bastard dead was all part of some master fucking plan to make the fucking asshole even worse.

He’d wanted Bruce to be the one to avenge him from the second Tallia pulled him out of the Lazarus Pit, but when he’d come to Gotham… when his plans to carve out his turf, provoke the Joker with an old alias, set the trap had suddenly become stuffing heads in a bag…

He’d thought about it. A lot. About just hunting the fucker down, putting a bullet between his eyes, and leaving him in the Batcave deader than dead.

Had nearly done it, but no. He’d wanted… he’d wanted Bruce to choose him. To put him first, to say he loved Jason more than some moral stance, to value Tim’s life more, and Steph, and Cass, over the fucking scum who would have happily killed every last one of them with a smile on his face just to see if Bruce finally broke.

And Bruce hadn’t.

Bruce had nearly killed him.

And in and around that whole mess, he’d never gotten around to actually thinking about how his fucking daddy issues had saved the Joker’s life for… years, by now.

Jason wasn’t killing anymore. Not like, actively. Intentionally. Not because he thought Bruce was right; something, someone, had to be willing to stand up for the people of Gotham and actually stop fuckers like the Joker from killing them.

But… well, Crime Alley was his territory, and a scared enemy, a cowed enemy who’d seen their life in Jason’s hands and knew just how easily he could end it was more useful than dealing with the power vacuum, or the next million upstarts who’d think they knew better, would be better, and could take on the Red Hood themselves.

Ironically, keeping fuckers like Black Mask and Great White Shark alive and in power (at severely reduced scale) saved him time. Kept him from dealing with all those upstarts himself.

That was how Waylon had put it, back when Jason was considering adding to his bag of heads. It was… like farming. Keep them low, but keep them stable. Break anything new they went for, or anything that got on his turf.

Let them harvest some of the power hungry fucks who thought they could take a piece of the Alley.

And then Dick had noticed. And reached out. And didn’t stop until Jason gave in and reached back.

When Danny came to Gotham. Somehow, it all swung back around to Danny.

And the fact that if he actually believed what he told Bruce, he could have gone to kill the clown himself at any time since returning to the city.

And he never had. The time wasn’t right. Something came up. Something went wrong, or broke, or distracted him before he thought too hard about it.

Killing the Joker hadn’t even been in his original plans for his triumphant return. He’d just wanted to take back the Alley, prove his point to Bruce. Keep his home safe.

When had killing the Joker become such a big part of the plan? Who the fuck had gotten into his fucking head, redefined him as the last moment of his fucking life, demanded his new life be all about how the last one ended?

Eyes narrowing, he looked searchingly into Lady Gotham’s face just in time to catch her slow nod, like she’d heard every thought. Like he’d been speaking aloud.

“I could not stop it from reaching to you,” she said softly, her voice heavy with sadness, “but I could… distract. Get in the way, make its path harder. That you did not give in…”

Something soft, something proud flickered in her eyes again, and it made him want to squirm.

“You may not have consciously known that you fought yet another enemy, yet you triumphed regardless. My dear Jason…” she sighed, heavy with sorrow, and reached out a hand again as though to cup his face.

Jason found himself moving to meet her before he even thought about it. Stopped himself just before it actually got him anywhere.

He wasn’t done being angry yet. He wasn’t even sure he’d actually started. If he could ever, would ever, be angry enough for this.

There was something building in him like a tide, riding high on resentment and his spiralling thoughts. It wasn’t green tinted like the pit rage, his vision was still clear… if anything, it felt sharper, like everything had been dialled up to eleven. Like the terrible, roaring anger was seeking a target.

“I am sorry that you have been robbed of your justice in this way,” Lady Gotham said quietly and once again Jason’s focus narrowed down with her intensity, like she was the only real thing in the world, “that even your own emotions of this, your death, have been used against you. It is…”

She hesitated, actually looking to Danny for help herself for the first time. Judging from the sudden low horror Jason could feel from the other man, he might actually be under reacting.

Or the tide was still rising.

He felt like razing the whole city to the fucking ground, with his own hands, brick by brick. Or puking. Or screaming until his lungs ripped out of his chest, if only he could move.

It felt like something had reached into his brain and cranked up the contrast, made the already neon brights of the Ghost Zone brighter, the shadows darker, the very air prickling at his skin like needles with the urge to do something.

Because if he moved, did anything, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Not when every muscle ached to tear the whole universe apart.

He was almost a passenger in his own skin as something else, a different, slow boiling rage barely under control clamped him in a vice.

“So y’know we talked about not asking about how ghosts died?” Danny said slowly, his voice suddenly low and hoarse.

Jason managed a stiff nod, every muscle twanging tight with tension. It had been pretty important, pre-Ghost-Zone.

And he could put the pieces together, right from the tight hot center of that ball of rage that he was pretty sure was his own core.

“This is worse,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look over. Didn’t have to, when he could feel the face Danny was pulling through the worry-worry-fear-anger-horror still surrounding him.

He… fuck. He was a little afraid of what he might do, if there was even an ounce of pity on Danny’s face, and honestly that panicked him more than anything else. All the rage wanted was a target, and he didn’t think he’d be able to choose what it was.

Danny nodded anyway, making a conscious effort to try and reign his aura in. Like he couldn’t hear the subtext, feel it in Jason’s, or like he could and didn’t care.

It left him feeling cold, icy and alone, but still relieved under the echoing slam of rage in his veins. A little more alone in his own head. A little less watched. Judged. Not good enough.

“Like, worse than worse, dude. Ghosts will throw down and rip each other apart just for fun and no one’s actually hurt, but… you don’t fuck with somebody’s death. You just don’t. It’s the worst thing you could do to a ghost, worse than Ending them. Not even Pariah Dark…”

“Exactly,” Lady Gotham hissed, baring her teeth in something not even remotely a smile, full cheeks and lips suddenly gaunt and hollow as the teeth became fangs. It lasted barely a moment, a flicker before it faded, but it snapped Jason straight out of his fury with a sudden shock of terror.

She’d been intimidating before. Effortlessly, gracefully powerful and commanding, the kind of person people would beg to step on them without a hint of aggression. Those teeth though… just the moment of that rage, of something so powerful suddenly nothing but raw, feral danger…

It wasn’t even directed at him but it still felt like a bucket of cold water down his spine. An instant urge to duck his head, show his throat, convince this much larger predator that he wasn’t a threat.

She was immediately contrite, turning her head away as her face cast into shadow, only the red pupils still visible.

“My apologies. It is… less personal for me than it is for you, yet it seems still too close to my heart.”

Forcing himself to swallow, Jason took a couple of deep, heavy breaths. The anger was still there, kind of. He could feel it in an almost distant way, past the hammering of his heart, but it wasn’t all he was anymore.

It was just… a feeling now. One he was in control of.

The shadows were just shadows again. The green of the Zone no longer blinding.

He blew the last breath out slowly, and let the remnants of the anger go with it.

“No, uh… it’s fine. I think that helped, actually,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly embarrassed at just how tense he’d become.

Justified, apparently, from both the other ghosts’ reactions, but that didn’t mean Jason wanted to feel so out of control. How close to just… being carried away by the anger.

No matter what anyone else said, no matter what the damn Pit or Joker-monster or whatever the fuck else tried to do, Jason Todd was not going to be defined by rage.

For one thing, he’d never live it down.

Danny sagged beside him, relief as tangible as that last breath flowing out of him, despite the core of concern underneath. That was fine; Jason was still concerned too.

And maybe thinking about his stash of ecto-candies again, but he honestly didn’t feel half as drained this time. He wasn’t even scared of Lady Gotham anymore - that moment had ended as soon as it started. As soon as she’d tucked those terrifying needle-like teeth away. Now she just looked…

Proud. Proud, and fond, and so, so sad. Like Alfred had been the first time he presented Jason with his very own Robin suit for the field.

It choked something inside Jason just a little, made his throat tight and breath hitch.

“You are so much more than anyone gives you credit for, Jason Todd,” she said softly, her sclera softening briefly to a bright, sunshine yellow. Like the cape he’d drowned in as a boy flying from her rooftops, “and they all think far better of you than you believe.”

That caught him up for a moment, confusion pulling into the absolute fucking mess of emotions he was pretty sure he was projecting to all and sundry.

Then Danny sighed heavily and draped himself sideways over Jason’s shoulders like a particularly lanky and bony scarf.

“Yeah, yeah, and your ghost mom is fucking terrifying. Did not need that reminder, Ladyship,” he tossed at Lady Gotham with a cheeky wink, effectively steam rolling the tension yet again.

Jason could have kissed him, but from the angle Danny had flopped on, his options were armpit or hip, and neither appealed.

Sassy comebacks, he could handle. Reassurances that people didn’t think he was a complete sack of shit, apparently not.

The whole batfam were just perfect poster kids for mental health, alright?

The Lady herself laughed softly and inclined her head, not arguing the point.

“Of course. Still, I am sorry Jason.”

He cut her off this time, raising both hands and stopping just short of reaching for the back of his neck again, which was about where Danny’s waist was sat.

“Don’t be. I… think I needed to be knocked out of my head there. I really do feel better now,” he added, and Danny huffed a noncommittal noise and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, well. You’re allowed to be pissed about it,” Danny informed him like he wasn’t sure if Jason actually knew that.

Which, obviously, Jason absolutely wasn’t. He had a pit ghost baby to teach good habits to, and Danny still had no idea what Jason was like when he actually lost control of the anger. But he could appreciate the sentiment.

And deflect like a Robin.

“Oh, is that a royal decree?” He asked archly, and while this noise was no more coherent than the last it was decidedly more whiny and drawn out into wordless protest.

Which still ended in a very quiet “yes.”

Luckily, quiet enough that Jason could pretend he didn’t hear it.

“Anyway, I’m good. Still gonna kick this thing’s ass for messing with my head, and maybe put it in a blender, but for now I’m good. Chill vibes only for Pitty,” he added with a roll of his eyes when Danny made a confused little chirping sound.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly to herself and nodded, resettling herself to recline on her smog clouds once more.

“Indeed. You currently have more pressing concerns; as little as I enjoy the present situation, it can wait. The Curse and I can monitor this new being’s behaviour through the rogues it has affected; they are noticeably becoming more violent, while the Curse is swaying the rest towards being less. For contrast,” she added before Jason could ask.

Which… might actually explain why Riddler had tossed a broken game box at Croc and the Wayne gala rather than trying to fix it. He’d stripped most of the interesting stuff according to Tim’s report, sure, but Nygma never let a thread go.

So he wasn’t gonna be on this new bad guy’s kill list.

Nor would Waylon, and Harley had been more destructive than homicidal for years. Already making a mental list on the events he’d caught wind of in the last few weeks, Jason didn’t even realise the conversation had moved on without him until Danny stuck a wet finger in his ear.

“What the actual fuck!” Jason demanded, trying to shrug the ghost off his shoulders. And while there was deadass no weight to Danny in this form, it was frankly unfair that he just rolled with the movement like he also didn’t have bones, snickering.

“You had Resting Bat Face,” he explained with a grin, twisting upwards to look down at him in a way that actually really shouldn’t have been doable with a human spine - and Jason had grown up around Dick Grayson, who ran the limit of everything a human spine was capable of.

“He does best with a problem to solve,” Lady Gotham noted with a sly amusement. “This one, however, has no time limit as yet. If I thought you would listen, I would have insisted on telling you at a later date.”

And that was just pointed enough that Jason rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush in spite of himself. He just… liked to have all of the information. It’s not like he was Bruce.

“Yeah, well, I like to know what I’m dealing with,” he grumbled, folding his arms and scowling at Danny. Who grinned back and ruffled his hair.

“Well, either way. Not like you need to pull the spandex back on imminently, right? There’s plenty of bats around,” he offered hopefully, and Jason felt a quick pang.

Danny… really didn’t want him to have to be a vigilante. He could taste it in the hope, in the worry, in everything his king was putting off. For some reason, he seemed to think Jason had come back to life and left the masks behind.

Like he hadn’t even thought about why Jason was still in fighting shape to be his fucking knight in the first place.

He knew he’d be annoyed if it was anyone else trying to insist he stay out of the game. He’d shot at Dick more than once for suggesting he go home when he was injured; the rest knew better than to say a word.

He hadn’t even considered giving up the vigilante life when he came back from the dead… except that brief period when he’d sort of been a rogue. He’d never even been a normal crime lord, most of them were way less hands on.

If he looked at the future now, he couldn’t imagine ever giving it up. The rogues would apparently literally always be a problem; the city would always need protectors.

That thought had never made him sad before, and yet…

Was it really the first time anyone had suggested he’d done enough? He’d died, and sure Jason was back now, but Danny seemed to really, actually believe he could stop wearing the mask.

That he’d given enough, given everything, and could and should just have a peaceful life now.

It made him almost ashamed to admit that he’d never even considered the possibility.

For all Jason railed against teen heroes, he’d only stopped being one for a temporary villain arc. Which was apparently at least partially supernaturally motivated, which was fun.

It’d shut Bruce up if Jason ever dragged that out in an argument, but Bruce already thought Jason was too volatile and susceptible to being controlled. Never mind that he hadn’t actually killed the Joker and started the apocalypse or whatever, all Bruce would hear was “someone else made Jason a villain so it could happen again”.

He’d probably try and take Jason off the case of this mystic whatever that was feeding on death. Fuck that noise. Until Bruce got a face to face with Lady G, Jason probably wouldn’t even tell him the details.

(Honestly, if there was even half a chance of avoiding that subject altogether, he’d take it. Bruce got ornery about magic in his city in a way none of the Robins had ever enjoyed dealing with, and that had been back when he and Jason had a good relationship.

Now… well, Constantine had been sticking around, so hopefully he could handle that mess and Jason could just get the actual work done.)

He gave Danny his best reassuring smile anyway, rolling his eyes and reaching to try and ruffle his hair. Found that he actually couldn’t quite reach with the way Danny was twisted around him, which was kinda weird.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard Frostbite. Side effects of the forming core could be pretty much fucking anything, and til Pitty pops out I’m not even gonna do research on anything that’ll set us off.”

Which wasn’t the same as saying he wouldn’t start the case. He could arrange what he already knew, start a plan of action, and organise his next steps without doing any additional research, after all.

Something about Lady Gotham’s delicately arching eyebrow let him know that she, at least, was onto his bullshit. Lucky for Jason, Danny just accepted the words, grinning and twisting around to wrap his whole head in a hug.

And then flowed back off his shoulders like a fucking liquid before Jason could worry about having to breathe.

“That’s great! Oh, and we should set up your haunt too! That’ll help!” Danny enthused brightly, clapping his hands and doing his best impression of a totally solid human that was apparently not his default.

Maybe it was a ghost thing.

Just so long as he never did it in human form, Jason could ignore that he definitely shoulda felt a ribcage being squeezed like that…

And no, Jason absolutely wasn’t wondering about what else Danny could use that noodley flexibility for. Totally not letting Dick know either… for competitive gymnast reasons, definitely.

No one wanted to deal with that.

And then his brain fizzled to a halt as Danny’s actual words penetrated and a sliver of concern slipped in.

Because… yeah. They’d talked about haunts. It was practically the first topic on the list; what to do in someone else’s haunt, what to never ever do even near someone else’s haunt, what a haunt meant to a ghost.

It was soul-underwear again, one of the most sacred parts of a person’s soul; their truest, actual home. Fortress and power source.

Halfas had to have them too, since Danny and Frostbite had both insisted that keeping and maintaining his haunt were going to be vital to his health while his cores stabilized. As in, Frostbite told him not to leave it for long and suggested redecorating as a soothing activity.

(Danny’s was officially Amity Park, which had not escaped Jason’s notice when he was apparently being put on haunt-arrest. It might have been an older halfa thing; very few ghosts actually stayed in their haunts all the time, although Jason could see the temptation.

It also might have been something else, and Jason had this thing about secrets and surprises down the line. He’d ask later, if he couldn’t work it out himself.)

Danny called Crime Alley Jason’s haunt, and that had felt right from the first time he’d said it. Crime Alley was his, his territory, his space, his home more than anywhere else. He knew it inside and out, could feel its moods and taste the changes in the air when something went wrong.

Baby ghosts usually couldn’t claim a haunt of any size as their own, but Jason knew that the Alley belonged to him.

That was before he’d met Lady Gotham. And if she was the spirit of the whole city… maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe it was just through her that he knew it so well?

He found himself looking to her uncertainly, searching her face in case there was any trace of displeasure. Any sign she didn’t want another ghost’s haunt in… well, what was kinda her physical body.

He couldn’t see or feel anything, but when she’d already been so careful about keeping her feelings her own… no better time to ask, really.

“Yeah… about that…” this time he did scratch the back of his neck, Danny safely down beside him. Which was about when he realized that he had no clue how to word the question.

Haunts were personal, he knew that much.

Then again, Lady Gotham said she was his ghost-mom. That had to include stupid questions. Blunt it was.

“Is it weird if I have a haunt in the city? I mean, it’s obviously your city, duh, but how do I… it feels like I’m squatting in your closet,” he said finally, giving up on not being just the most awkward creature in a thousand mile radius.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times, excitement fading to a confused fascination as his words sunk in.

“Y’know, that’s a really good point… except it’s more like he’s squatting in your kidneys,” he pointed out to Lady Gotham, turning to face her too.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly and took a slow drag from her traffic cone, which had almost stopped smoking.

“Ah, I forget the limitations of a halfa’s knowledge… all ghosts begin with a haunt within their parent’s, Jason. From the moment you returned to my arms I opened up the Alley for you, and it has been yours ever since.” She paused to blow out a long plume of smog, which shaped itself into a tiny row of very familiar buildings.

Jason didn’t have to see more than a couple to know what they were; he could feel it right down to his core.

“When you are older, stronger, you may desire another, although being in the mortal world is already a degree of distance, but Crime Alley will always be your first,” Lady Gotham continued as Crime Alley bloomed from the smog before them, tiny and yet more than just an image, more than just a replica; the real thing in the scope of her power.

There were no lights in tiny windows, nothing moving through the smog, and yet it was still clearly alive. No, filled with things that were alive, people and noise and even the rats.

And it was his. His beating heart.

Lady Gotham’s smile was a tender beacon in the fog, her hands coming up to caress the smoking Crime Alley and gently waft it in his direction.

“Every crumbling brick, every pothole, every shadow. It is a heavy responsibility, and one I shall share with you until you decide you no longer need my help, but it will always be yours, Jason. It would not have accepted anyone else.”

The cluster of smoggy buildings fell apart as they reached Jason and for a moment he nearly panicked trying to keep them together, but… he was suddenly washed in a wave of old, familiar scent.

Not the burned rubber and pollution of all the rest of the smogs, the constant smell of the city. This was… floral. Soft, and sweet, and chemical in the way that cheap perfumes always were because they couldn’t have afforded the good ones.

Watered down, because they could get even that so rarely that she would begin refilling the bottle with water when it was barely half empty. Catherine Todd’s favourite perfume.

It hadn’t covered the stink of cigarettes and worse coming from the very walls of their apartment; he’d only smelled it when she was holding him close. Shielding him from Willis’s rage, tucking him into bed, cuddled up on the couch to wait out the rain or sickness.

The smell of home.

It brought tears to his eyes, the pressure of the day threatening to spill over and overwhelm him again.

Intellectually, it felt like another moment that should have been terrifying. More than any show of teeth, this was her strength. Who and what she was, she could break him with a wave of her hand, a wisp of smoke, and yet…

He felt warm. Comforted. Wrapped in her smile and at peace in a way he hadn’t in… fuck it had been years.

There was something else too, a layer under the flowers that only the deepest detective-trained parts of him tried to pluck apart; it was part of the home smell, inextricable, but it didn’t make sense. Wasn’t the perfume. Just the very faintest hint of baking far away, and Catherine Todd had never been able to afford…

Oh.

Of course not. Because Catherine Todd, his mother in every possible sense of the word but one, had never met Alfred.

So, the good news: Tucker was currently in the lead for Spiderheck. Bad news: they’d finished the first set (Tim won, but he’d been two ahead from the start which was cheating), and… the game had ticked directly over into another set.

They hadn’t been planning on changing any settings, so it was fine, and Conner and Tim hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

But… Tucker was beginning to worry, just a little. He’d done video games before, with Danny and Sam; no worries, they’d taken a turn directly in pretty much every game they’d played together.

Just, y’know, he knew Danny and Sam really well. And Tim and Conner were really cool, and he understood a lot more about how the Supers worked than he ever had before? But, maybe that was why he’d kinda screwed up.

Because he wanted things to be fair, and didn’t want them to think he’d given himself extra advantages. So they were all spiders, all the same.

And he wasn’t completely sure where the meta controls were?

Danny and Sam always insisted he have a version of the controller somewhere, so they could flick to the menu (and sometimes run riot there too). Last time they did Spiderheck, he’d put the buttons on his stomach, so Danny and Sam could try and hit them for an extra level of difficulty.

But he wanted to be fair. Didn’t want extra powers. And, apparently, technopathy had sorta maybe converted that wish into him not being able to feel it while he was spidered up.

All his combat moves were fine! The break, grab, web commands were smooth and easy, just like every other time he did them. Different attacks, no worries. And, obviously, he hadn’t stood still and tried to look for the code, because they were playing Spiderheck and that was a really easy way to get wiped.

Dodging another swinging attack from Tim, he scuttled at top speed across the platform and jumped behind a box. No weapons here, and he scanned quickly for the next spawn point.

Which, normally, shoulda shown up on two levels; the normal game vision, and the white lined underlay of the code, which he could always see through from top to bottom of the level.

(This was usually an active impediment rather than an advantage in Spiderheck; it was way too hard to know what he could stand on.)

He couldn’t see one, just the platform above and the wall behind.

Maybe he should take an early death, just to give himself a little time to work this out. Just so he could stop worrying. He was 21, he’d had these powers for years, he totally knew how they worked by now.

He just, maybe, might have gotten overconfident.

Danny would never let him live it down if they all had to be rescued from Spiderheck.

And, way more importantly, Tim Drake-Wayne and his super hot boyfriend would only remember him as the loser who couldn’t even control his powers.

Nope. Absolutely not.

A loud buzzing heralded the arrival of one of the spinning laser traps, and Tucker made up his mind. Just one early death. No worries. He had a two win lead, and honestly he’d rather lose the set than admit he’d fucked up.

Scuttling “away” from Tim’s probable next attack, Tucker scurried into the path of the spinning laser trap.

And saw, at the very last second, Conner swinging in from the other side, directly into a laser.

Shit.

Sam was comfortably snuggled down into her pillows and thoroughly enjoying the chaos her new chat was creating when she finally heard the door. A little too buried to easily get up, or look particularly graceful doing it, so instead she stuck a hand straight up into the air.

“In here, love!”

And, like the angel of mercy that she was, Val only made her wait ten minutes to get out of all of her winter gear and put the kettle on before coming to save her from her fate.

“Not the fastest rescue I’ve received,” Sam teased, even as Val hauled her easily to her feet. Val grinned back and pulled her in for a quick peck.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed. I can do better.”

“I bet you can,” Sam laughed, draping her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders. Val gave her another, deeper kiss, then drew back enough to press their foreheads together.

“So, how was Gotham? I saw Danny made the front page,” she teased back, and Sam hesitated.

In amongst all of their various plans for disaster, it hadn’t really come up that whatever they did at the party, it was sure to make the gossip rags. Front page though? That was probably an achievement.

And, given what she herself had done, really annoying.

“What, they gave the front page to him? I blatantly accused at least two CEOs and Lex Luthor of weaponizing misogyny, with citations, and Danny got the front page?” She huffed, drawing back and folding her arms, fully intent on turning away to sulk, but not remotely objecting when Val’s arms snuck around her waist and pulled her back in.

Val’s chin tucked in over her shoulder and the taller woman snickered.

“I know, right? Sadly cold hard facts just fade away in the face of a scandal.” Val sighed dramatically, then dropped a kiss on the side of Sam’s neck. “You’re on page seven. It’s mostly about your parents, but using Lex’s name got a couple other points in. Oh, and Vicki Vale did a three page piece on how Brucie Wayne specifically upholds the patriarchy. I think she quoted you.”

Sam considered that for a moment, her arms automatically coming around to cover Val’s for a brief squeeze. It wasn’t like she’d actually been planning to change anything at the gala. Mostly she’d just wanted to be heard.

It could be an interesting starting point, though. Especially since she got to pick her outfit for the next gala; her mother hadn’t even specified that it had to be a dress on the document, which was definitely a peace offering.

Cass Wayne had looked really good in that suit.

Her cheeks suddenly hot for absolutely no reason, Sam twisted in Val’s arms to kiss her again.

“I’m sorry my mom’s… the worst,” she finished lamely, wrapping her arms around Val again.

The whole fall-from-grace thing may have been seven years ago, and Val had more than moved on, but. Well. Sam didn’t exactly believe all the scars had healed.

Especially when Val stilled for a moment in her arms.

Then she chuckled, wrapping her arms a littler tighter around Sam and lifting her off her feet.

“Hey, at least she’s not actually a bigot. It’s always nicer to be hated personally than in general, y’know?” She teased, echoing something Sam was pretty sure Danny had said to her back in her Phantom-hunting days.

Sam huffed and wrapped her legs around Val’s waist too, raining kisses down on her face.

“Yeah, well, she can still shove it up her ass. You’re my date for the next gala, if you actually want to come.”

Which.

Well.

Was about when she realized that the next gala was probably going to be extra interesting, after all their shenanigans. Maybe they should have been more discrete? More careful?

Her worry must have shown on her face, because Val gave her a very gentle bounce to shake her out of it.

“Hey. Samantha Manson. I would be delighted to go to the next gala with you, and tell all the little journalists that yeah, I’m that Val,” she said firmly once Sam had refocused on her. Then she grinned. “I’ll even be on my best behaviour and not one up Danny until the second one.”

That made Sam laugh again, hugging on tight even as Val turned and easily carried her through to their little kitchenette and sat her up on one of the counters.

“Hey, did you get that autograph from Harley for me by the way? I wanna send it to my dad for his birthday,” she added, sneaking another kiss and then pulling a pair of mugs next to the steaming kettle.

Sam considered hopping off the counter. Didn’t bother, reaching behind herself instead to pull her favourite tea for the month and drop a bag into her mug.

“Yeah, a couple actually. And she said if we wanna meet Ivy she’ll let us know when they’re back on the west coast, but it won’t be any time soon.” That hadn’t been particularly surprising, but it still made Sam a little sad.

Just another reminder that they were on the outside looking in all the way over here.

Valerie stilled, coming back and resting both hands on Sam’s thighs.

“Do you miss being on the east coast?” She asked quietly, those gorgeous green eyes so large and gentle.

Sam hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and let her head thunk back against the cupboard behind her.

“Honestly, I think I just miss being closer to everyone. It’s not far for Danny with the Zone, but if you or I wanna visit anyone we have to hop on an airplane or spend weeks driving, neither of which are good for the environment. We just… get forgotten out here, stuck out of the loop.”

Val raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face but eyes still soft with understanding.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. I thought I’d pick up a new phone and rejoin the group chat that day, but suddenly I gotta wait nearly a week for “new secrets”,” she teased and Sam sighed, shaking her head. Not quite able to lift all the way out of her funk.

“Yeah, I know… it probably woulda been fine, Danny shouldn’t have dropped anything at all in the main chat if he didn’t want everyone to see it, I just…”

“Wanted to be more sensitive than he is,” Val finished the sentence, leaning in for another kiss. Not needing to reach up even with Sam sat on the counter. “That’s why I’m still dating you.”

It did pull a smile from Sam anyway and she draped her arms over her girlfriend’s shoulders again.

“For some reason. So, what did you think?”

Val shrugged, her hands sliding up to settle around Sam’s waist.

“About a new halfa? Probably sucks for him. Especially when he’s gotta come out as dead to his family. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for being stable,” she pointed out when Sam snickered.

Which was a fair point.

“They’re actually worse when there’s more of them,” she mused, glancing back towards the bed where she’d left her phone, “and the oldest’s a cop now.”

This time it was Val’s turn to snicker.

“Yeah, I heard. Tuck already sent me the blow by blow of you eviscerating the poor guy.”

Sam preened. Deservedly.

“Hey, you know me, I’m not gonna play nice just cuz I’ve been dragged to some social function.”

The snicker turned to a chuckle as Val leaned in, rubbing their noses together.

“And you know me, baby girl, ACAB all the way, and I still think that should extend to the Justice League. Heard half of Batman Inc also showed up, did you let them have it too?”

“You know I did,” Sam purred, locking her ankles behind Val’s back and nipping playfully at her lower lip. Val laughed, her hands creeping slowly up the small of Sam’s back.

“That’s my little leopard. Tea’s done.” And then, totally unfairly, she reached back with one hand and pulled Sam’s ankles apart, slipping free with a laugh as Sam pouted. “Hey, you’d be more upset if I let it over steep.”

“I can make more tea,” Sam grumbled, finally slipping off the counter, but a rebellious smile made it onto her face anyway. Val toasted her with the french press.

“True that, darling, but I’m not wasting the good coffee beans. Daddy asked me four times if I was sure about taking the train but honestly, he’s a state away now, it’s not worth a flight.”

Setting her teabag aside, Sam squirted in some vanilla agave syrup and took a deep breath. Gotham was fine, but no hotels could match her home tea stash. Not even the Waynes could.

“Beautiful, strong, environmentally conscious, and a Daddy’s girl. How did I land you again?” She asked innocently as Val dropped creamer into her own mug.

“By being all of those but the last one,” Val countered easily, taking a mug and holding an arm out for Sam to tuck under. “Now c’mon, if I’m going to the next gala you need to tell me allllll about a certain cutie Cassandra Wayne,” she cooed, making for their couch.

Sam’s face flushed red and she made to duck away instantly, but those damn vigilante muscles made it so hard.

“Okay, veto, you’re not allowed to do that anymore! My mom is trying to hook me up with her!” Sam did not whine. She. Protested. With dignity. Totally no idea why Val snickered, holding her coffee up and away in her other arm.

“Yeah, that’s the point. How funny would it be if Danny and I both stole a Wayne from you?” She asked with a vicious grin.

Which… did make Sam pause. Because that would be really funny. And Cass would almost certainly be down for it; she wasn’t as loud or attention seeking as any of the boys, but Sam could recognize the wicked gleam in anyones’ eyes when they enjoyed the chaos.

Then she sighed.

“No, we have to be good for the next gala. Otherwise no one’s going to listen to what I actually have to say.”

Val hummed an agreement, guiding her to sit on the plush, well loved cushions. It was an old couch, and a hand-me-down from Sam’s work, but it was just too good to pass up. They could both lie comfortably side by side on the seat, if they snuggled just a little, and the back was wide and plush enough for two throws.

“Okay. The gala after that, then. It’ll make our slow burn long distance romance all the more compelling,” she added when Sam snorted, finally releasing Sam to sink comfortably into oblivion.

Sam swatted at her and put her tea down on the table.

“You’re dreadful. I love you. We’ll ask Cass, lemme just get my phone and I’ll hook you into the group chat with her, Steph, and Babs. They’re Wayne family friends,” she added at Val’s questioning noise, “I haven’t met Babs yet, but Steph is great. You’re gonna love her.”

“Only if we’re going for some three’s company action,” Val snickered as Sam jogged to the bedroom, flipping her girlfriend off as she went.

Jason was quiet as they left the Zone. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, especially after the day he’d had and the emotional whiplash.

Danny was doing his very best not to let it bother him. He remembered the early days of being a halfa, how much he’d second-guessed himself, how much every new change and discovery had rocked his world. And he’d been a teenager, all hormones and fire and energy.

He hadn’t even been dead a month before shit got weird.

Jason was twenty-two, and had already been dead for almost seven years. Danny’d like to think he’d found ways to cope, but seven years in himself he was pretty sure he still hadn’t.

Whatever Jason had dealt with in those six and a half years was being ripped up in front of him day by day.

If there was anything he wanted, anything he needed, Danny would be there for him in a heartbeat. Before he could even have to ask, if possible. Aaaand the only thing he couldn’t do that for was if Jason needed space.

Lady Gotham had been able to open them a portal directly into Jason’s apartment; Danny preferred to aim high enough to miss walls and buildings on the way back, but it was her city. She knew exactly where everything and anything was - the portal had been in the back of Jason’s front door.

Danny totally wasn’t jealous. He could come back out almost at the same place he’d gone in, if he was quick. And he could go intangible anyway.

It was still really cool to watch the city spirit do it, the way the realms opened easily and willingly at her touch. She’d given Jason a token, a coin that had to be at least six hundred years old that showed the city’s skyline. Apparently he could use it to get in touch with her, or get back to the Zone on his own if Danny couldn’t take him.

Danny was fine with that. For sure.

The Infinite Realms were dangerous, but the token should bring him straight to Lady Gotham, in an emergency. And then Danny could follow and find her, and find Jason. It was a super reasonable backup plan.

He still found himself hovering in the doorway, unsure if Jason wanted him to stay or go while the other man shrugged out of his coat, boots, and shoulder holster that Danny had totally missed this entire time. And then walked directly into the bathroom.

Danny hovered a little closer, entirely unknowing what exactly he’d do if Jason was crying. Or screaming. Or beating a hole in the wall away from prying eyes. Or, actually using the bathroom for its intended purpose, apparently.

Because Danny forgot Jason was still in mandatory human form at all times.

He couldn’t hear anything from inside the bathroom with the door shut anyway, not even movement or the sink running. But then again, Jason’s family knew Superman personally. That probably lead to some inside jokes and really specific precautions.

Danny hovered back to the door. Stared around at the incredibly clean, well organized display of video games and weaponry on the walls, the double shelf of books.

This, he was beginning to suspect, was a third, larger, more expensive apartment. The furniture and room layouts were about the same, but he was like 80% sure the apartment they’d played MarioKart in hadn’t had as much stuff.

This one had some dishes waiting by the sink though. Given how well organized everything else was, they stuck out.

…

Five minutes. Jason was still in the bathroom.

Danny hated waiting. If he was going to stick around, he could justify it by helping out. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

———————

Part two imminent! All my love to the tag list, you’ll be following the link on this one so you don’t get both separately

Part 2:

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop p @mayoota-blog @xysidhe e @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper r @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking g @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor r @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 8 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf f @frivolous-pastel

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton dead and loving it #dfdali #dead on main ship #chapter probably 18 part 1 #so that just happened #in which there is LORE #and SPIDERHECK #and LESBIANS #feast my children feast

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