#also I hope I didn't keep this too vague but I wasn't sure if you'd say since she's in this

[motherlvr]

Your Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman

SPOILERS FOR ATSV, this includes the plot of ATSV

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! Reader, Earth 1610! Miles Morales & reader

This is a continuation of Part 1 but may be read as a stand-alone. this will probably be the last part of this for now, thank you for reading!

Summary: During a minor identity crisis, you question your morals. Further adding to your list of problems, it seems like Miles has a twin brother he failed to mention to you.

Warnings: nothing too serious, established relationship with Prowler! Miles, possessive miles, Major spoilers for ATSV, not canon, minimal cursing, jealousy, reader is so silly sometimes, i got sappy at the end sorry, fluffy ending

A/N: just know that if u interact with any of my works then i literally love u with all my heart

You weren't sure where your morals lie, but you assumed they were in the gray area. Matter of fact, you must be colorblind.

Could you even be considered a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman anymore? You were sure it was against your moral code to be dating a guy that you had previously described as a "cold-blooded killer." Who were you now? The Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman? It wasn't nearly as catchy. Maybe you were an anti-hero now. Is it possible for a Spider-person to be an anti-hero? Surely not, you thought.

Interrupting your thoughts was the buzz of a phone. Miles' phone. You soon realized your present state, burrowed against your boyfriend on his bed. He had a suffocating grip on you, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. Letting you get a breath of air, he loosened his grip on you to check his notification.

He slowly unwrapped his arms from around you and started to rise from the bed. He pressed his lips to yours before saying, "Lo siento, mami. Uncle Aaron needs me." He started putting on his Prowler gear.

To be frank, you were sick and tired. You've heard the same excuse over and over from Miles. At this point, you didn't understand why he was being so cryptic. What secret is there to hide if you already know he's the Prowler?

"Miles, enough with that vague shit. You keep acting like you're Batman or something." You sass, rolling your eyes at him and laying up in his bed. It was surprising how much he let you get away with. If anyone else had said that to him, he'd claw their throats out, surely.

"Let me come with you, Miles." You suggested, immediately jumping off his bed to follow him. He didn't like that idea. Not one bit, and it was clear on his face. "Hermosa," Miles started, but you interrupted him, pointing a finger at his face. "You know damn well I am fully capable of protecting myself. Just let me into your life, Miles. I want to see what's so important that you have to go and ditch your girlfriend yet again." You dramatically sigh, hoping he'll cave. After a few moments, Miles eventually gave in. "Fine. C'mon, princesa." He sighed and gestured for you to follow him.

He led you to what seemed to be a sketchy, dull, and grimy basement. If he wasn't infatuated with you, you'd wonder whether he was plotting to murder you down here. Upon further inspection, it was actually an apartment. As your eyes scanned the eerie room, you noticed chains hanging on the walls and an abnormal amount of weapons. However, there was also a large flatscreen and a kitchen. You could only assume that this was their Prowler Cave.

Other than the random civilian tied up on a punching bag, it looked like a fairly normal room. Almost cozy, if you were being generous.

Speaking of, why was there some poor boy restrained on a punching bag? You could barely see him due to the punching bag being larger than him, but from your current standpoint, you could only assume he was around your age or younger.

Miles stepped in front of you, holding a hand out to prevent you from taking a step further. Curling your lip in a frown, you shooed his hand away and continued walking, but stopped before the hostage could spot you. He stayed behind, lurking in the corner.

Miles' uncle greeted you both, "I've got a surprise for y'all." Apparently, Miles had let his uncle know in advance that you were welcome into his Prowler cave.

Miles, ever loving his dramatic entrances, jumped down from the corner he was lurking in. You had to stifle your laugh.

Uncle Aaron rotated the punching bag, revealing the unfortunate boy that got restrained upon it. Your jaw fell to the ground. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How was this possible? You started to wish you had paid attention during Physics.

Attached to the punching bag was a near-identical copy of your beloved boyfriend. His eyes were wide full of fear, and for a second, you felt pity for him. Uncle Aaron left the room, leaving only you and the two Miles.

"Your dad is still alive?" Miles asked his impersonator, astonishingly unfazed by the fact that there was a copy of him staring him directly in his eyes. "What?" The impersonator questioned. "Your father, you said he's still alive." Miles repeated, his voice piquing with interest. "Yeah." The copy replied in a low voice. His face had no remnants of fear, it morphed into confusion instead. "Who are you?" The fake Miles asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He reminded you of your boyfriend in that way.

Your dearly beloved Prowler opened his mask, "I'm Miles Morales. But you, you can call me the Prowler." He said, his accent exposing. Those simple two sentences had more of an effect on you than they should have.

"If I don't go home, our dad is going to die." The fake Miles says with fear in his voice. "Your dad." Miles interjects coldly, lacking sympathy. The hope was slowly fading from the other Miles' face. He shook his head and said, "Please, you have to let me go." with more assertiveness than before. Your boyfriend leaned closer to the fake, "Why would I do that?" he inquired.

Deciding to interrupt their stare-down, you stepped out of the darkness and made yourself known to the fake Miles.

His face lit up with recognition. He whispered your name, "Is that you?"

"First off, how do you know my name?" You questioned, raising a confused brow. This whole situation was starting to creep you out. As you stepped closer to him, both of your spider-senses went off.

"You're like me." You both said in unison.

Your boyfriend was watching this interaction, narrowing his eyes. The fake Miles was only giving your boyfriend more reasons to keep him confined here.

"Look, you've got to help me. In my universe, you were my girlfriend too. Except you weren't Spider-woman. Don't you have a sense of morality? Hasn't anyone told you that with great power comes great responsibility?" The poor guy was practically begging you. You were sure that if he wasn't tied up on a punching bag, he'd be on his knees pleading with you. Which would be a fun sight to watch, you think.

You scoffed at the fake Miles Morales and replied, "You said it wrong. It's, with great ability comes great accountability." Rolling your eyes. This impersonator couldn't even get the quote right.

"That's not-" He cut himself off. "Whatever. You've got to help me, please." The fake Miles pleaded with you. He started to glitch, this universe was taking a toll on him already. As you stared into his eyes, he reminded you of a miserable, dejected puppy. Unbeknownst to you, the less-menacing Miles Morales was only stalling to charge up his venom strike.

Fortunately for him, he didn't need to resort to his venom strike just yet. That would only make this situation harder for him to get out of. He wasn't planning on getting on the bad side of another Spider-person.

"I think we should help him." You broke the silence, turning to your Miles. He was about to argue with you when you continued, "Not only because he's a fellow spider-person, but also because it's harder to resist someone when they look exactly like you, Miles." You grinned, teasing him.

As always, Miles couldn't deny you. He growled to his other self, directing the clone's attention away from you. "You're lucky my girl was here to save you this time, spider. I would've had no issue leaving you here to watch you rot."

As you untied Miles from the punching bag, he mouthed a "Thank you" to you and said,

"Do you guys happen to have a watch that can teleport me back home?" in all seriousness. It was almost comical. "No, but maybe I could help you out." You responded. "I have a good friend, Peter Parker. He's a scientist that specializes in quantum physics, I bet he could help. He works at Alchemax." His eyes seemed to lighten, "You know a Peter Parker?"

On the way to Alchemax, your boyfriend decided the phony version of himself was getting too comfortable with you. He was asking you way too many questions such as,

"How did you become Spider-woman?" The same way you did, Miles.

"How long have you been Spider-woman?" Ever since I got bit by a spider.

"Why are you with the Prowler?" He's not such a bad guy. A few seconds passed and you said, Nevermind. But that's what makes it exciting. You wink at him.

And that's when your lover decided to step in. He interrupted whatever Miles #2 was going on about. "Shut up for once." He snarled at him, towering over his clone. Within a second, your boyfriend had his copy in his grip with his razor-sharp claws in his face, a warning. You noticed sparks flying from the other Miles' fingertips. Why don't I have electric powers? You pondered. Not wanting to witness a homicide today, you pulled your boyfriend away before he could get the chance to slaughter himself. Or at least the morally good version of himself.

Your Miles snaked his arm around your waist possessively. He glared at the other Miles through his screen mask, but you were sure Miles #2 felt his sinister stare. He and you were walking a few paces ahead of his duplicate.

Some days, you weren't sure whether you wanted to kiss him or throttle him during his sleep. Although you couldn't deny that a part of you liked seeing him like this.

“Settle down, babe. He’s not my type.” You reassured him. He almost felt appeased, until he rethought your words. “Not your type? Mami, we look almost identical.” Your Miles said with irritation in his tone. You laughed at his confusion as you shook your head.

Although they were nearly identical in appearance, you noticed clear differences. For instance, your Miles had an intimidating and menacing presence. While the other Miles had more of a "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" energy to him.

"No, I mean, he's a little too dorky for me." Your boyfriend seemed to approve of your response, gazing at you. You shivered under his watch.

“I heard that." Miles #2 muttered, following behind you two.

Miles’ gaze was still set on you. He didn’t intend on breaking it any time soon. Although you couldn't exactly see his eyes, you could feel his stare. Nervously glancing the other way, you avoided eye contact. Because you knew that if you looked at him again, you'd pull him in and wouldn't be able to pull away. You felt like you were pinning for him all over again.

You glanced back at him, "Miles, stop staring at me. I might kiss you.” In an instant, his mask was off. He pulled you into a searing kiss, cupping your head with his hands. You reciprocated immediately.

His kiss was demanding and forceful. You could hear the thump of your heart, increasingly becoming louder. It was only a few moments long but felt like forever. He pulled away sooner than you'd liked, leaving you desiring more. “Had to show him that you’re my girl. Sólo mía. Right, princesa?” He stared into your eyes, making your heart pound impossibly faster. You cheekily nodded, the words being lost on your tongue. Miles smirked in satisfaction and closed his mask as you all approached Alchemax.

You strode into Alchemax like it was your second home and looked for Peter's office. Your boyfriend treaded right by your side, while the other Miles strayed behind you like a lost puppy. Which essentially, he was.

Successfully finding Peter's door wide open, you knocked. He looked up from his pile of work. Peter greeted you with a smile, "Come on in. It's great to see you, kid. But, uh, why is the Prowler in my office?" He said to you, his voice barely above a whisper. The Prowler in question was menacingly yet quietly standing in the corner of Peter's office.

Peter looked slightly green, but you consoled him. "Oh, don't mind him. He's my boyfriend." You shrugged. Peter shot you an extremely concerned look, judging your taste in guys, no doubt.

You simply smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "But anyway, Peter. This is Miles, he’s from a different dimension." You pointed at Miles, who stood stiffly next to you.

"We were hoping you could help us create an inter-dimensional teleporter. Or rather, a watch that can jump universes?" You told Peter.

The scientist seemed fascinated by this information about the multiverse. “That's a specific request. Lucky for you guys, I've been working on a prototype. Be wary that it is just a prototype, so there's no guarantee it'll work." Peter said.

"Great! I just have to make sure I get out of here before I either glitch to death or Miguel and his spider-team show up to beat me to death." Miles awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. His glitching issue was getting worse the more time he spent in your universe.

Spider-team? No one's ever told you about this. If this "Spider-team" really did exist, why weren't you invited? No, you take that back. You could name a couple of reasons why you weren't invited, starting with your boyfriend who was standing next to you in his full Prowler suit. This is what you deserve for not being a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman, you sigh.

"Let's hope this works then." Peter says with an unsure tone. He cuffs the watch around Miles' wrist and changes the settings.

Silence falls upon the room as you all observe the watch flash for a moment, and then go dim again. How anti-climactic.

"Oops, sorry guys. Wrong settings." Peter Parker awkwardly laughed and fumbled with the watch again, and then said "Alright, this one should work."

Suddenly appearing to your right is a captivating portal of sorts. It was in the shape of multiple hexagons and had an orange hue. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, you'd never seen something so alluring. Other than your boyfriend, that is. You chuckled at your inner monologue.

Peter was ecstatic, “The other scientists doubted multiversal travel existed, but this is a critical discovery in the history of science!”

Miles, the Spider-Man one, was bewildered. He could finally go home and save his father. “Dude, this is awesome! I can't thank you guys enough. Maybe I'll see you guys again sometime." He smiled, referring to Peter and you.

Miles #2 seemed to be leaning in for a hug when your boyfriend interjected. He stood in front of you and glared at the phony version of himself, "Not too friendly now." he scowled.

“Chill, man! I didn’t mean it like that!" Instead, Miles gives you a two-fingered salute and fist-bumps Peter. "See you around." He finally says, jumping into the portal and wasting no additional time.

The portal closed behind him and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Maybe you weren't a morally gray neighborhood spider-woman after all.

Who were you kidding? You're dating a murderous asshole. You must've been guilty by association.

You just hoped that the dorkier version of your boyfriend made it to his universe, and wasn’t sent to a completely different one yet again.

Shaking off the thoughts, you told the scientist, "Thank you, Peter! You were a big help." You hugged Peter and waved him goodbye. "Anytime, kid." He replied. Your prowler followed you out, his hand settling on your waist.

As you returned to Miles' house, you sat on his bed with him and said, "You know, your cooperation has to count for something. Even if you were just brooding the whole time."

"I'm the Prowler. I wasn’t brooding, ma.”

"Whatever you say." You rolled your eyes at him. "Anyway, you didn't kill him, so that's a start. I'm proud of us!" You gleamed at him as you mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You know I love you, ma. But you talk too much." Miles said, pulling you by the waist into his embrace.

You knitted your eyebrows as you replied, "Babe. It runs in every Spider-person. Didn't you hear how-" This time, Miles was the one shutting you up by pressing his lips to yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. His gentle lips moved against yours, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

You smiled into the kiss, deepening it. You didn't need words to show him how deep your affection for him lies. If you could, you'd freeze time to forever stay in his hold.

-----------

Dating the public’s enemy number one had to be diminishing your PR. Not that you had one, anyway.

Initially, you worried that your terribly different lifestyles would inevitably lead to the end of your relationship. The Prowler and Spider-woman was an unlikely combination, after all. You snuck out at night to fight crime and restore justice, while he snuck around with his uncle to be a hitman of Kingpin. But you loved him like no one else could.

He invoked emotions in you that you weren't completely familiar with. Your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn't breathe with him around, nor could you control how fast your heart throbbed. But you would gladly suffocate if he was the one taking your breath away.

And you had a feeling that your sentiment wasn't unrequited.

-----------

hermosa - beautiful

lo siento - i'm sorry

sólo mío - only mine

princesa - princess

[deathbxnny]

hello, aventurine blade and jing yuan with a teen reader thats like lynette from gi? (please do include lynette‘s backstory as well) :3

Hello there, Anon!! Thank you for the request, and I hope you'll like it!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, vague non-descriptive mentions of past child abuse/kidnapping, reader is a young teen, characters are older brother/father figures, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》AVENTURINE

You and Aventurine found a lot of similarities in eachothers pasts, mainly because you knew how it felt like to suffer at the hands of greedy nobles. He saw a younger him in you, which made him initially, therefore, take you in when you first arrived in the IPC. You were quiet and extremely reserved at the beginning, which he respected in his own slightly teasing way.

He knew his patience eventually paid off when you'd ask him to join you for some tea, where you'd open up about your favorite books or interests. He'd calmly listen to you whilst enjoying that rare moment of relaxation you gave him.

He definitely also teaches you card tricks once he finds out about your little magician's assistant gig you had going on. Aventurine finds a sense of pride in watching you master new skills taught by him, as he silently wonders if all he does for you is enough to set you on the path of having a good life one day. Even if it is one without him around to guide you anymore.

》JING YUAN

Jing Yuan doesn't pry about your past more than what was necessary. You were brought to him after you killed the noble that had abused you, and at the sight of your rather young age, he decided that taking you in was a good idea. He didn't mind how cold and reserved you were to him, he was a patient man and had all the time in the world for you.

He eventually began inviting you for tea, where you'd play chess together and speak about topics he slowly found out you were perhaps into. Jing Yuan also definitely made you hang out with Yanqing as well, figuring that having someone of your age around would be helpful. And despite both of you being annoyed by it at first, you two grew to be a very strong team together.

The general makes sure you know that you can always rely on him if your past haunts you. He's not going anywhere and neither are you.

(He definitely also pats your head often, unable to hide his secret cuteness aggression from how adorable your cat ears and tail was. He finds your deadpans funny.)

》BLADE

Blade didn't care about where you were from or what made you end up joining the Stellaron hunters in the first place. You were uninteresting, just another kid with a dark past... until you were assigned to work for him, and he therefore became somewhat of your caretaker. Neither of you was thrilled, but you learned to move on and deal with it slowly. Your past was only brought up once, and despite being seemingly indifferent to it, Blade was somewhat impressed by how you were still able to be so calm and collected after all of it. It made him somewhat... easier on you.

As time went on, both of you grew closer as mentor and student in a way, both of you knowing that you can rely on the other when things got bad. He kept your back clear, and you kept his clear. That was the silent deal you struck. Blade definitely trained you to become a master assassin as well, figuring that you'd need it if you wanted to survive in this world. He didn't care if he had to be a bit sterner or even colder, but he knew you'd thank him one day.

Eventually, life would make you part ways one way or another. Whether it was through him finally being relieved of his cursed burdens or you moving on from him as a mentor, he knew it would come to an end. But until then, he figured your company wasn't too bad, as he simply decided to keep being your teacher until fate said otherwise.

Alrighttt!! I'm sorry this took so long, but as everyone knows, life sucks. Anyhow, I hope this was okay, Anon, and thank you again for the request!!<33

[misc-obeyme]

Couples Discount! - Secret Scene

Well, I shouldn't be surprised I guess. My "should I post the smut?" poll had some pretty definitive results. It's not yet over, but really I don't think I need to wait for it. Y'all voted for the smut.

I would like to begin by apologizing for my smut writing skills. I'm not at all confident in them, which is why this is the first time I'm really posting any.

So this is the secret smut scene that would come after the end of this daily chat scene I wrote, though you don't really need to read it before this. This right here is pure smut, so you know. Context isn't really required.

Please tell me if it's terrible. My anxiety is high so I need to know if it's really bad lol. Also I really tried to keep MC gender neutral so hopefully that turned out okay.

GN!MC x Diavolo - NSFW - MDNI

Warnings: oral sex, penetrative sex (reader receiving in both cases), please let me know if I should add anything here

Any thoughts you'd been having about the repercussions of the kiss you shared with Diavolo on the plaza bench were completely discarded now. You sat on the edge of Diavolo's bed with the demon prince on his knees between your thighs and thinking wasn't something you'd managed to do at all for the past several minutes.

One of your hands was in Diavolo's hair, the other one gripping the sheets beside you as you melted into the feeling of his tongue, his lips, his mouth giving you untold amounts of pleasure. He had placed one of your legs on his shoulder and his hand still rested on it. You could tell from the way his fingers flexed against you that he was trying not to grip you too hard.

You hadn't been sure what spending the night with Diavolo would be like, but so far he seemed to want nothing more than to worship you. He especially seemed to enjoy hearing you moan, deliberately doing things that he thought might draw one out of you.

You were slightly annoyed about the fact that he himself was still fully dressed while your clothes were already in a heap on the floor. However, you couldn't hold onto this thought for long enough to call him out on it. Not when he was using his tongue so expertly, the tension building up in your body as your pleasure intensified with every second.

It was almost teasing, though, never quite enough to bring you over the edge. Your fingers clenched and unclenched in his hair in both frustration and enjoyment.

"D-diavolo," you managed to say. "Please."

That single word apparently had quite the effect because Diavolo responded immediately. Where before he was only using his tongue, now he put his entire mouth on you. There was so much more sensation that you cried out, the hand in his hair becoming a fist. You had a vague thought about how you hoped you weren't hurting him, but it was gone in an instant as Diavolo sucked.

You moaned, unable to keep yourself from doing so, the feeling building and building. Diavolo didn't let up. He could tell you were close and he was determined to make you come. You felt your thighs shivering, squeezing slightly as the intensity increased.

Your body began to tense as you felt yourself nearing your climax until it finally hit you in waves. You couldn't even manage to spare a thought for what might be happening to Diavolo as your thighs clenched, your fingers still holding tightly to his hair.

You took several deep breaths as you let yourself relax. You let go of Diavolo's hair. He looked up at you from between your thighs with a smile so bright you couldn't help but laugh a little.

You cupped his cheek as you caught your breath, bending forward a little to lean your forehead against his. "You have way too much clothing on," you said, pulling at one of the buttons on his shirt with the other hand.

Diavolo chuckled. "I'm sorry, MC," he said. "Won't you help me remedy that?"

He didn't have to ask you twice. You started using both hands to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You let your hands linger on his bare chest, truly a glorious sight to behold, before reaching down for the pants. But in the position he was in, you couldn't quite reach them.

Diavolo kissed you before standing up to take his pants off himself. You watched as he did, finally freeing his enormous cock. Just looking at it made your skin flush and your body throb as your mind went wild with the possibilities.

It was very tempting to take it into your mouth, since it was right at the same height as your face. But you were more interested in putting it somewhere else.

Despite this, you couldn't resist reaching out and taking it in your hand. Diavolo made a soft humming sound at the contact and you looked up to see him biting his lip.

It was such a cute expression on him that it made your stomach flip. You found yourself suddenly impatient, letting go so you could grab his hands and pull him onto the bed.

Diavolo let you take control, moving easily as you positioned him so he was sitting up against his pillows. Once he was where you wanted him, you straddled his lap, putting your hands on his chest and kissing him deeply.

His mouth opened for you instantly, your tongue sliding in and tasting the salt of your cum on him. You tried not to let this make you rabid. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands running through his hair again, your ass rubbing against the hardness of his cock.

You pulled away and looked at him. He was breathing hard with his pupils fully dilated. He looked like he was dizzy with lust, but there was an edge of concern on his face. He reached over to the bedside table, taking out a bottle of lube.

Certainly Diavolo was quite large, so you thought it best not to skip this step, even though the look on his face sent another stab of heat through your body. He slathered his fingers and you gasped as he put first one and then another inside you, stretching you gently.

Diavolo took his time and you were losing your mind with need by the time he pulled his fingers out of you. You put your hands on his shoulders and rose up, preparing to take him inside.

"MC," he said, voice quiet as he settled his hands on your hips.

You didn't let him finish whatever he was going to say, instead sinking down onto his cock. This elicited a moan that was like sweet music to your ears and he practically whimpered your name.

You decided to go slowly, moving down inch by inch until you had him fully inside you.

The feeling of him was exquisite. Your body flushed with heat as you squeezed yourself around him and he moaned. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips tighter.

Diavolo nuzzled into your neck, peppering you with kisses. "Are you all right?" he murmured into your skin.

"Don't worry," you said. "I'm fine." You tangled your fingers in his hair again, holding him to you as you began to move yourself slowly up and down his cock.

Diavolo's head rested on your shoulder and for a moment he seemed too overwhelmed by the sensation to do much of anything. But then his hands began to move you, too, increasing your pace. You matched him easily, speeding things up, but sitting down fully every time, allowing him to hit that spot inside you perfectly over and over.

Diavolo seemed to be unable to stop himself from thrusting up into you, but you didn't mind at all, moaning in response to the feeling of it. Diavolo's hands moved from your waist to your back, his head falling a little to press against your chest. Both of you were moaning now and you could already feel the tension of your second orgasm tightening in your belly.

It felt so good, you were completely lost in him, your hands roaming over his skin, the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and sex. The feeling of him inside you, thick and powerful, the way his hands moved you so easily, the desperate sounds of him mumbling your name over and over again.

Until at last, you felt yourself tightening, your body responding to the pleasure. You cried out his name as you came, your hands on his shoulders, your nails piercing skin, your head thrown back.

As you were just beginning to come down from this high, you felt him clutch you hard, a soft groan from his throat, and the warmth of his cum spilling inside you.

Exhausted, you collapsed against him. Diavolo's arms wrapped around you, holding you to him as you rested your head on his chest.

This was only the beginning of your infamous night with Lord Diavolo and you would be pleased to discover just how much stamina the prince of the Devildom really had.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Dammon, and Zevlor react to shy gn crush confessing to him before running away because they're scared of being rejected?

Summary: I may have been a bit descriptive, I hope that's okay! They may also be slightly uneven... Oops Focuses more on the reaction of the gents, to try and allow for more projection!

Warnings: lil bit of fluff, but no major warnings!

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Zevlor

Zevlor has always been a strong leader, in your eyes. For all the disputes between the tieflings and those near them, he usually kept a level head to keep things under control - to the best extent that he could.

He also always returns any due diligence - be kind to him, and he'll show you the same in turn. You found this out very quickly - having found something that he had left behind at a lunch time gathering and given it back to him. Come supper, Zevlor was waving you over, offering to eat with you so neither of you alone, thanking you for returning his belongings.

You sit together in silence for a while, and whilst Zevlor eats, you more... push your food around, picking at it, and playing with it in a vague and unsuccessful attempt to calm your nerves.

"Something on your mind?" his voice startles you, and you're left stumbling over your words, a flurry of "I'm fine, yeah, I'm okay-" Repeated in various combinations. Zevlor just chuckles lightly at your flustered nature, but doesn't pry. Your thoughts are your own, and if you don't want to share them, he'll respect it.

There's a few more minutes of silence, before you blurt out a hurried confession, your words a blur to Zevlor's ears. After the sudden profession, you scramble to your feet and scarper off, your chest pounding against your ribs as you try to get out of Zevlor's sight as fast as your feet can carry you.

Zevlor doesn't move - part of his mind is trying to figure out what that flurry of words you uttered was, and the rest of it was just... Stunned. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of what just happened - though half of that was just due to the fact he hadn't understood a word you had said to him.

He does bring it up next time he sees you though - and you feel your face heat up as soon as he brings the subject up. "... It was nothing..." Your voice is little more than a mumble, and you can't bring yourself to look him in the eye. "It didn't sound like nothing... If there really is something you want to tell me, you needn't be afraid to say it..." His voice is kind, and you don't feel any innate pressure behind his words, but you speak anyway. You've done it once, surely the second time won't be as bad?

Wrong. You can hardly choke the words out, but when you do, Zevlor's looking at you with a kind smile. That wasn't a reaction you had expected - you had half been thinking that you'd be met with a lecture, but... He was just smiling.

"Is that why you ran off?" He asked you, humming thoughtfully.

Wyll

One of the first things that Wyll had noticed about you was your timid nature. He never really commented on it, but he always stood up for you at times when you couldn't find your voice (the Blade of Frontiers reactions coming in full force at these times)

He honestly had a bit of an inkling that you like him - you stick around him a lot, or constantly stealing looks in his direction. So, upon your confession, Wyll wasn't exactly caught off guard. What did stun him, though, was the way you ran off.

He had initially started to go after you, calling your name as you darted off and out of view. Then, after a moment's consideration, he decides to give you a moment. He's of the opinion that maybe you need that moment to yourself, to recollect and think.

It's nightfall when he comes to you, two goblets in one hand, and a bottle of wine in the other. "Care for a drink?" He offers you a goblet, and that charming smile you've come to know so well. Your heart flutters as he hands you a half-full goblet, and you spend the evening with one another drinking well into the night.

Wyll confides in you, that he has always been fond of your presence, and though he had never really wanted to push you, wanted to spend more time with you. You could hardly believe what you were hearing, and you could feel your jaw become more and more slack as he talks more and more.

"In fact..." Wyll speaks, pausing to take a sip of his wine. "And, forgive me if this is too forward for your tastes... I've always quite... Enjoyed the quiet, with you... You never pressed for answers from me, or... Constantly asked me for tales from my time on the front - all of which I would happily regale you with... But, I am most grateful, that you just let me be as I am..."

Despite your more open feelings for one another, you're still incredibly shy, and very liable to becoming flustered if anyone brings up your relationship with Wyll, or ask for any details.

Dammon

Dammon was in the forge when you came to him. He kept glancing over his shoulder, asking if you were okay, or if you needed anything, as you tried to work up the courage to speak.

In a similar way to Wyll, Dammon liked your shyness - he thought it was adorable, and made you unique. He was always there for you- and absolutely loves making little trinkets and things for you, tokens of his affection.

He hardly hears your words when you first utter them, your mumbles lost under the rhythmic clanging of his hammer on metal. "What? Can't quite hear you," He says, pausing to turn and look at you. You feel your face go red hot, and you blurt out what was meant to be your admittance - your feelings for him, your admiration of his work, all of it.

With the words hardly out of your mouth, you scarper, wanting to get away from the situation you'd thrown yourself into. Though - not that you'd noticed - Dammon was sprinting in an attempt to catch up with you. It had only taken a moment for him to drop his tools and shirk off his apron, metalwork entirely forgotten as his feet move as fast as they physically can to get to you.

He's not just going to let you go without actually knowing what you said - he has an inkling, naturally, it came with the way you showed affection to one another - the quality time, the gifts, all of it. But he wants to know with certainty.

When you get all shy and flustered again, his face lights up - you've unintentionally confirmed what he wanted to know, and he's quite possibly the happiest being for miles around.

He reassures you in an instant - he wants to follow these feelings with you, he doesn't want to shy away from them, and he's more than comfortable to think of you as a lover to him.

[auroravictorium]

high infidelity (pt. 1) (k.b.)

do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Summary: pekka gives up on trying to get information from reader and decides to wait for kaz's arrival instead. reader endures a bad injury, and the crows arrive to help. reader finally gets her revenge.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: ~4.3k

Warnings: LOTS of blood and violence (stabbing, vague description of gutting someone), minor self harm (reader holds a piece of porcelain tight enough to cut her fingers), death of non-canon character(s), use of guns, shooting, lots of pain, mentions of illness/infection

Genre: angst and action

Author's Note: if you didn't read the warnings, PLEASE go back and look at them! this is a lot more violent than previous parts. also! this is from reader's pov! you can find kaz's pov here! sorry for the wait! i hope you all enjoy :))

part two

It was raining.

The pooling of water in the corner of your cell was the only indication you had of the weather outside. Seeing the filthy puddle forming made your already dry mouth seem borderline painful. You hadn't dared to touch the dirty bucket of water in the corner, surviving only off the broth and the small bowl of water your captors occasionally provided. At this point, you were willing to take the chance of drinking the rainwater leaking into your cell.

You ran your thumb along the edge of the porcelain shard you sharpened upon your return to your cell however long ago. The threat of piercing skin was a nice distraction from the aching of your throat, the white-hot pain in your chest, and the beginnings of a fever you were trying desperately to ignore. The gash on the back of your head hadn't started to heal; instead, it had gotten worse. 

If you threatened to cut your finger enough times, you could ignore the reality of your situation settling over you. If they don't kill me, my injuries will. Internal bleeding, infection, starvation, dehydration.

However you considered it, you didn't have much time.

You didn't want to consider the possibility of Kaz not coming to get you. He had to be looking for you. He'd worked too hard to keep you out of the Dime Lions' hands to give up when mercenaries did their work for them.

But he had to know that Pekka planned to kill him if he came to get you. Kaz wasn't a fool.

Would he leave you here to die or come to get you and risk death himself?

The porcelain shard broke the skin of your thumb. Blood beaded at the wound and seeped down the ceramic, staining it a deep, lethal red. You almost didn't feel your finger throbbing, and it took a few moments to register in your mind that you should drop the makeshift blade. You should stuff it beneath your shoddy pallet and try to sleep until the mercenaries dragged you back upstairs. You shouldn't add to the injuries on and beneath your skin.

You did none of those things. Kaz will come for me. You curled your fingers around the shard, slicing the skin of your other fingers, and let your eyes slip shut.

He will.

As drowsiness wrapped you in its cool embrace, you realized you weren't sure if you believed it anymore. Not because Kaz would abandon you, but because you knew you were running on time that wasn't your own. You were at the mercy of the mercenaries, Pekka Rollins, Kaz's ability to get to you. You were at the mercy of exhaustion and the infection taking root in your blood. 

If Kaz made it to you, would he find you alive or dead? Would he bring you back to Ketterdam to heal or to be buried?

Nine months ago, you'd faced death at the hands of a rogue Dime Lion on a job. As you'd felt those ice-cold shackles on your limbs, you'd thought of Kaz's smile. At the time, you'd never seen it; you'd convinced yourself you never would, but it was a thought you suddenly refused to accept as death came for you. Your defiance brought you back to life and to Kaz, stubborn, foolish Kaz, who decided to wait until your near death before confessing he cared.

Now, having seen that smile, having felt his hands in yours, having born dozens of wounds for the chance to get back to him, would you accept death as it stalked closer? Would you let it pull you into its embrace, lead you to the Saints as it had millions of others? Would it take you this time?

Unconsciousness claimed you before you could answer any of your questions, sinking its talons into you and jerking you beneath the cold waves.

-

When you woke up, you saw the sky. Your eyes were so bleary, weighed down in a way they hadn't been when you fell asleep, that you thought you were imagining it. But no, it was there just beyond a grimy window and far from your reach. It was grey and dreary, and the air smelled faintly of rain, untouched by the mildew and rot of your cell.

Your cheeks felt hot, yet you shivered as you glanced around at your surroundings. You were in the main room of the warehouse now, surrounded by rusty machinery, empty burlap bags, and other miscellaneous garbage from the building's production days. The mercenaries were nowhere to be found, nor was your porcelain shard. But you weren't alone; Pekka sat in a chair before you, his legs propped on a crumbling metal table. He spun a revolver in his hand and added a bullet each time he finished a rotation.

He'd cleaned the blood from his face and beard and changed his clothes since you'd seen him last. He looked as he had the day he first arrived, an unknown amount of time ago. Clean. Composed. Disgustingly powerful.

You jerked your hands against your bindings as if you had the strength to pull them free or break them against the wooden support beam you were tethered to. "Either pull the trigger or leave me be," you said. Your voice was unexpectedly hoarse, and you flinched at the sound. Each word sent scraping pain down your throat, and every breath coming out of your lungs felt too warm, too final.

Pekka smiled pleasantly and slid another bullet into the chamber. "These bullets aren't for you, lass. My men have seen your crew in the city, coming to make their rescue. I reckon an hour until they find you, maybe less if the boy knows where to look."

"I'll make sure your next of kin is aware they can expect to find your body in the canal in a few weeks," you snapped, forcing as much venom into your words as you could, which wasn't much in your state. You leaned your forehead against the wooden beam and shuddered, squeezing your eyes shut. It was too warm in here. You were so cold.

The news of the Crows being nearby should have perked you up and motivated you to keep fighting until they arrived. Instead, you could barely bring yourself to offer a scathing remark in acknowledgment. Even your worry for Kaz was dimmed by your worsening fever and overwhelming fatigue, not to mention the pain coursing through you as you shifted your weight from one leg to another.

The sound of boots echoed against the stone floor and off the walls, and you slowly opened your eyes to see who it was. All three mercenaries were prowling over, armed to the teeth and looking no less than bloodthirsty. The Crows had to be getting close to the warehouse, wherever it was; otherwise, the mercenaries wouldn't be leering at you like they had a few final sick bits of torture they wanted to inflict.

The one you hadn't seen since the coach ride, whom you half-heartedly decided to name Number Three, stepped forward and pulled a knife from the sheathe at his thigh. His free hand was bandaged, the result of your bite as he attempted to drug you in the coach, and you would've been smug about it if the world wasn't starting to wobble around you. Number Three cocked his head, and his brown eyes roamed you up and down, taking in the sallowness of your skin and the injuries scattered over you like a gruesome painting of red, blue, and purple. "Not much bite left, huh, sweetheart?"

You didn't bother responding, resting your head against the support beam and letting out a slow breath. Your heart thundered in your chest, making your head throb painfully; it took everything in you to not panic. Being outnumbered hadn't bothered you before, but it felt more threatening now that you knew Kaz and some, if not all, of the Crows were close to rescuing you. You were so close to freedom. 

Hold on a little longer.

"Someone not feeling well?" Sergei drawled. He prowled closer, and the tip of a blade traced over your hollow cheek. It slid down your jaw, a terrifying caress as it traveled down your throat, shoulder, and bicep until it stopped at your forearm. You stiffened, turning your face away and trying to shift around the support beam to get away. But a body stood behind you, and Fjerdan Asshole clamped his fingers onto your shoulders to keep you in place.

You gritted your teeth and jerked your shoulders, but the grip only tightened. "Now, now," Fjerdan Asshole chastised. "Hold still." His fingertips pressed painfully into your flesh, and you fought to keep from groaning through your teeth. 

Breathe.

Sergei slowly slid your shirt sleeve up, revealing the dark ink of the Dregs tattoo on your skin, and you held back as he lifted his knife. He pressed the tip of it against the crow's head, nipping the skin, and your breathing sped up as blood slowly trickled down your arm. 

He leaned in until his mouth was against your ear. You trembled and turned your head away, but you refrained from cracking your skull into his nose. It was too risky in your condition, and the pulsing of the gash in the back of your head told you that you needed to stay still. The world was still tipping from one side to the other, in time with the throbbing of your wounds.

"Tell me," Sergei hissed, "has the pain been worth it, knowing that we're going to kill him the moment he steps through that door?" In one swift movement, he sliced the sleeve of your shirt right off, leaving a thin cut around your bicep where he'd removed it. "Knowing that it was for nothing? That you marked yourself with a symbol that will mean nothing the moment Ketterdam hears he's dead?"

He twirled the blade across his fist, his eyes darkening with a rage that made you feel sick. If your stomach weren't empty, you would have vomited onto the floor as you realized what he had planned. The knife. The utter hatred for the symbol on your arm. The slicing of your sleeve from the rest of your shirt like a surgeon performing a routine exam.

His words were deliberately spoken as if you'd live to see a Ketterdam without Kaz Brekker in it, where your only reminders of him would be your memories and your tattoo. This man intended to tarnish the first with pain and ruin the second with blood, and the rest of your captors intended to watch. 

The orchestrator of it all smiled, a disturbing glee filling Pekka's eyes as he watched the realization cross your face.

You jerked your arm in his grip as your shoulders and breathing trembled with panic. It rattled your lungs, irritated your broken ribcage, filled your mouth with a coppery, bitter taste. "Get your hands off me," you snapped, twisting your arm to hide your tattoo. But there was nowhere you could go, absolutely nothing you could do to prevent this, and Sergei only readjusted his hold. Firmer this time, making the skin whiten beneath his filthy fingers. It would bruise, and your ruined tattoo wouldn't be the only reminder of what he'd done.

"I'm going to do you a favor," Sergei whispered like he had a secret to share. He brought the knife's tip to the top of your tattoo again, near the crook of your elbow. Your pulse thrummed beneath the touch of the metal, and you had to look away from the sight of his thumb tenderly stroking the inner skin of your elbow. Nausea rose in your throat, bile seeping onto your tongue as someone other than Kaz touched you with such gentleness. "Wipe the slate clean. If you're still, maybe you won't have a scar."

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and you couldn't bring yourself to stop them. There was nothing to be done, nothing to stop this. No breathing to exhale the impending pain, no controlling the sudden spinning of the room. You squeezed your eyes shut and sagged against the post as a quiet sob slipped past your lips.

No mourners. No funerals.

It was the only thing you could think, echoing through your mind in Kaz's voice. A quiet rasp shared in the dark of his room before you left, however long ago. The most he could offer right then, but more than enough for you. 

You clung to what little comfort the memory provided and focused on every detail you could remember. Kaz's eyes. The concerned purse of his lips. His dark hair, ruffled from running his fingers through it too many times. Dust motes spinning lazily through the air, caught in the faint moonlight streaming through his window. How he looked as if he wanted to say so much more.

The comfort was temporary, beaten back as the blade pierced your skin. It was the worst pain you'd felt since you'd been taken, a hot flash of agony reverberating bone-deep. Your arm was on fire, liquid flame dripping down your skin as Sergei drove the knife deeper and slowly carved it downward.

You screamed. The sound tore at your raspy throat and echoed around the warehouse loud enough to make Pekka, Number Three, and Fjerdan Asshole flinch. Sergei remained unaffected, continuing his morbid surgery with a nauseating glimmer of amusement in his eyes. You tried to pull your arm from Sergei's grip, but his hand was an immovable vice around your arm that locked it in place as he slashed your Dregs tattoo in half. 

Torn, jagged edges of skin, seeping blood. It was all you could see through your tears as you sobbed, turning your face into the wooden support beam to hide the damage from your view. The world started to tilt and spin faster as blood rushed from the wound and dripped onto the floor, splattering your boots and turning the stone red.

Sergei released you, but you couldn't let your arm drop to your side as you wished. With your wrists bound around the pole, you were forced to see your arm utterly ruined before you. It was the worst kind of torture, seeing blood where ink once was, how quickly a mark you fought to earn could be destroyed.

You heard footsteps moving away from you, and the hands resting on your shoulders disappeared. Wooden chairs scraped against the stone floor as the mercenaries started to settle around the table Pekka sat at, murmuring and snickering amongst themselves.

Metal thumped against stone, and the sound was followed by the rattling of chains.

The mercenaries went silent, and their chairs shifted once more. Safeties clicked on guns, and you heard metal hissing against leather as daggers were drawn. "Grab her," Pekka hissed. "It's Brekker's crew."

Nobody got the chance to lay hands on you before the doors to the warehouse slammed open, and four figures came rushing inside. Two tall ones, two shorter ones; a glittering crow on a cane, shimmering blades, spinning pistols, and sparkling coat buttons. Kaz, your friends, your Crows. Even through nauseating dizziness, you would know them anywhere.

Before you could call for any of them, the room exploded into chaos as Kaz threw a phosphorous bomb down and filled the air with smoke.

Chairs moved, and weapons clashed, filling the air with noise that rang in your ears and made you want to take cover. Pistols fired, and someone groaned. A body hit the floor next to you, and you flinched away from the face of Number Three staring up at you, a bullethole clean through his forehead.

To get out of the line of fire, you carefully maneuvered around the support beam, using what little leeway you had. You ducked as something flew right past where you stood moments ago: barely recognizable, charred chunks of chair legs.

You let out a shaky tremble and tried to get closer to the floor, unable to do much more than wait until someone cut your bindings. Until then... Despite the searing pain in your arms, you slowly started to scrape the rope against the wooden surface of the support beam, hoping a stray thread would catch in the rotten, splintering surface. Please please please. This isn't their fight alone.

Through the white haze of the room, Sergei noticed your attempted evasion and snarled. He broke from fighting with Inej, blocking a slash of her blade with one of his own before crossing to you. He cut through your bindings, jerked you to your feet, then held his bloody blade to your throat. 

You cried out as he hauled you back, stumbling and nearly tipping over as the world did flips and your legs went out from under you. Black spots danced across your vision, and bile rose in your throat. You lifted your uninjured arm to get a grip on his wrist so you could push out of his hold, but he pressed the blade to the underside of your chin just hard enough to nip the skin. "You move, and I slash your pretty neck," Sergei growled in your ear. "Now, we're going to walk toward the back, and you aren't going to fight me."

Sergei started to walk backward, keeping his dagger positioned at your throat and ignoring how it shallowly cut your skin when you stumbled. As you got further from the clearing smoke and saw your friends locked in combat with Fjerdan Asshole, you felt the fading sparks of your energy flare back up again.

They smoldered until they sparked, sparked until they set alight, heated until they burned hot enough to burn away your pain and your exhaustion and your memories of the past days. You forgot about your fever and the wound in your arm rapidly losing blood. All you saw was the leader of the mercenaries swinging his fists at Jesper and batting Inej away like a fly, and Pekka landing a strike on Kaz's face hard enough to break the skin. 

All you felt was rage for what they'd done to you and what they planned to do to your friends.

Bracing your hand against Sergei's arm, you bashed your head back against his chin and pushed away the weapon in his hand at the same time. Pain shot through your skull and right down your spine, threatening to send you sprawling to the floor. But you managed to stay upright and turned on your heel, swinging your left fist toward Sergei's face. His head cracked to the side, and bone crunched beneath your knuckles. His knife clattered to the ground as he grunted and stumbled back from the force of your punch.

You dove for the knife, landing badly on your injured arm with a loud cry, and narrowly managed to wrap your fingers around the blade's handle before Sergei shoved you onto your back. He pinned you to the floor with his weight and tried to wrestle the dagger from your grip, his fingers clamping around yours with bruising force. You panted and struggled, anything to keep him from establishing a hold on the weapon you'd managed to grab. The first one you'd had access to since yours were taken.

You'd die before you gave it up and let yourself be unarmed again.

Sergei suddenly froze above you, halting his attack as his face turned bright red. His chest was still, frozen on an exhale of breath, and he clutched his throat with his blood-stained hands. You watched in bewilderment as his eyes rolled back in his head, and his lips turned blue. Blood bubbled at the corners, starting to slide down.

You gasped for air, glancing over Sergei's shoulder to find the source of his agony. Nina stood there, her hands outstretched as she squeezed his heart and lungs. More blood seeped from his lips as her grip tightened on his organs, her fingers curling toward her palms. Her lips were pursed in determination, and her blue eyes were dark with fury. They flicked to yours, and she nodded.

Now.

You didn't need convincing. You drove the dagger into Sergei's chest as hard as you could with one arm's waning strength. Blood poured onto your hand as you pushed it up to the hilt beneath his ribcage, soaking into your remaining sleeve and sticking it to your skin. Sergei's mouth fell open as if he might scream, but no sound came out. Red drops fell from his lips onto your face and neck, and you wanted to gag as you twisted the blade to force it as deep as it could possibly go.

Sergei teetered before slumping to the ground, writhing and trying to pull the dagger from his chest. His frantic movements slowed until his arms fell to his sides, and he seemed to realize he was beyond saving. 

It should have been enough. Seeing death approach in his eyes should have satisfied the hungry wrath burning in your chest, roaring in your ears. Instead, you pushed yourself into a kneel at his side. The ground was slick with blood as it pooled around him and dripped from your arm, and the world wobbled around you as you wrapped your fingers around the dagger's reddened hilt.

You ripped the weapon from his chest, making him scream in agony. A sick, twisted part of you relished in the sound. Good. I hope he hurts. 

"Was it worth it?" you hissed, turning his words back on him as you positioned the blade above his navel. "Drugging me, breaking me, trying to kill me, only for you to die by my hand?" You dug the weapon in, piercing his flesh with slow precision. "By your own weapon?" You leaned in until your faces were inches apart, letting him see the wrath in your eyes. How unapologetic you were for what you planned to do. 

He was alive enough to finally look afraid of you.

"I'll make sure there's enough left of you to be buried," you breathed. "Maybe if you grovel, the Saints will ensure you spend eternity in fewer pieces."

Sergei's eyes drifted shut. It was possible he didn't hear your words. Perhaps death had already claimed him, but you didn't care. You couldn't as rage flooded every nerve in your body. At that moment, you knew nothing else, even as black dots danced across your vision and you swayed unsteadily.

Your hand trembled as you twisted the knife in his abdomen, burying it further before shoving it upward with the rest of your strength. Blood slickened your palms and pooled around your knees. Distantly, you could see how much damage you'd done, how he was cut clean open from his navel to his sternum. You didn't want to look any harder than that.

The rushing in your ears slowly died out, leaving you in a heavy, numb silence as Sergei died before you. The fighting had stopped sometime during your moment of fury, and the air reeked of sweat and the metallic tang of blood. It was you and Kaz and the Crows, surrounded by the culmination of every decision you'd made up to this point, from leaving your family to whispering 'I love you' in a city full of vengeance. You never imagined your life and hands would be tainted by blood and death.

You'd always imagined the world spinning slowly, twirling gracefully on its axis. It was colorful and bright, carefree and uncomplicated. Clean, untouched, magical.

The world was not so.

You collapsed onto the stone ground between one blink and the next. The room spun too fast around you, so blurry and dizzying that you squeezed your eyes shut. Hands, so many hands, found your body, pressed against your wounds. 

Gentle fingers pressed to your forehead, and you felt your pulse begin to slow. Sleep started to tug on you, pulling you under.

Tears slipped down the corners of your eyes, hot against your clammy skin. "No," you whispered, trying to turn away from the probing fingers. But your muscles couldn't or wouldn't cooperate. "No more. Please." You'd slept enough. You didn't want to sleep anymore.

You forced your eyes open, trying to focus on the blurry shapes moving above you. Four faces, your friends. One was closer than the rest, pale and streaked with blood. Kaz was hunched over you, examining your wounds.

"Nina, her arm," Kaz said. His raspy voice was familiar and comforting, like cocoa on a bitterly cold day, but panic lay beneath the words and froze you to the bone. You'd never heard fear in that voice before. "Jesper, the coach. Take Inej. Go."

A flurry of activity happened around you; two sets of footsteps disappeared as quickly as they arrived, and gentle fingers started to work on your arm and the back of your head. Gloved hands wiped away at the blood they could find, then one found your hand and gently squeezed as your eyes fluttered shut.

Sleep overtook you as your resistance failed, eased by Kaz's careful touch. It tethered you to earth, a silent promise that he wouldn't let you drift away. He was gloved and dark and the subject of every faded dream that danced through your mind as you slipped into unconsciousness.

You trusted him to pull you out of the fog when it was time.

kaz pov (part 2) here!

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[yesimwriting]

Hi! I'm back with another request and it is stu again(I'm sorry I'm in a phase rn) . In this request I was wondering if we could get Stu walking the reader from class to their locker, waiting for them at their locker, and then walking them to their next class. I know you've mentioned it before yk with Stu waiting for the reader and I'd just love to see the casual intimacy like in the last request (and also I hope you're feeling better after the break down you went through I'm not sure if this is a good time for request for you and if not thats so understandable I'm so sorry take your time, obviously if you do do this request I'd appreciate it but if you don't thats so okay i mainly sent this in bc you said you were in your Stu era and what kind of loyal reader would I be if I didn't indulge one of my favorite writers by tricking them into writing/talking about one of there current favorite characters :)

A/n hi, i'm feeling better now :)) i'm home so that always helps and done with school until close to late january so that definitely helps lol

also side note, i try to keep the appearance of the reader as vague as possible but at the beginning i do mention the reader having long enough hair to be tied back/up with a hair tie 

this took a minute but i hope it’s worth it!! 

----

You're practically bouncing on the balls of your feet once the bell rings, more akin to a little kid getting ready to run across the park than a student simply getting a few minutes to move from second period to third. It feels a little silly, especially when you intentionally keep your freshly graded test on top of your folder instead of tucking it away, but it's become a bit of a habit.

You'd think about breaking it if it wasn't for the fact that no one ever gives you a reaction quite like Stu. Sure, he's purposefully over the top, oversaturating his enthusiasm with his tone and teasing humor, but it's nice. Comforting in the way it never dwindles no matter how many things you bring up that you don't think anyone else would have the energy to even pretend to care about.

Out in the hallway, you adjust your hold on your math textbook and the plastic folder that's resting over it. Your head turns left, towards the row of lockers that he's always waiting near. Only, this time Stu's not there. Not looking through his actual locker or talking to Billy or Tatum or anyone. He's not there. At all.

You're more confused than you should be, it's not like Stu owes you his presence, but it is weird considering that this is the first time he's ever not been there since your tradition started. You frown, a little offended by his absence. Things with Stu are more intentional than he wants them to seem, a fact you picked up pretty quickly after meeting him, but something insecure within you twists at the thought that maybe he just forgot. Or decided he just didn't feel like it today.

Even though the hall is quickly flooding with teens, you crane your neck in the direction of Stu's second period. Stu has a tendency to stand out, too tall and too much of a force to blend in if one makes up their mind to look for him. It shouldn't be hard to--you bite your tongue to avoid yelping as some firm force settles on your upper hip.

You've heard too many stories, seen too many girls rant or tear up in the bathroom after some entitled guy thought it'd be funny to grab or grope under the guise of accidentally bumping into someone thanks to overcrowding. For a brief second, the contact feels pointed and wrong. You turn stiffly, eyes wide until they settle on a familiar grin.

Panic fading almost immediately, you exhale. "Stu."

When you don't melt , Stu drops his arms, offering you a halfhearted, "...Boo."

You roll your eyes, half stepping back. "You scared me."

“Should’ve been paying more attention,” he mumbles, expression slightly scolding. 

A retort about how you were just looking for him because he’s always waiting across the hall rises and dies on your tongue. There’s no normal way to explain that, and even if the fact that you were waiting for him wasn’t totally mortifying, your sure he’d find a way to tease you. One of those jokes about how he didn’t realize the two of you hadn’t gotten so serious and since when were you such a ball and chain? 

So instead of saying anything like that, you tilt your chin up, “You snuck up on me on purpose and we both know it.” 

“I’ll make it up to you later.” The suggestive wink earns him an eye roll. 

“Sure,” you mumble pointedly, “Guess what?” The question is rhetorical enough that you don’t even have to wait a full beat to answer, “We got our tests back!” 

You lift your paper, careful not to cover the red A+ circled on the first page. Stu’s mouth falls open briefly in a look that’s just a little too amazed for a reaction to a math exam. “Wow,” he takes the packet from you, leafing through it without taking it in fully, “This is some complex shit, too.” 

He sets the test back down over your folder before ruffling your hair in a way that’s nearly too affectionate, harsh enough to make your head move at an angle that strains your neck. “Harvard bound.” 

You brush him off with a barely contained smile, softly pushing against his hands before attempting to smooth out the mess he made. “Okay--knock it off, I actually liked how my hair looked today.”  

“It’s not fair that you’re the smartest person in the room and the prettiest.” The blatant compliments without their usual layers of implication and subtle-not-so-subtle innuendos are enough to get you to pause. 

Stu briefly squeezes you to him before taking the textbook from your hands. It’s easy to let go now that the habit’s been established. You rarely carry anything in between classes anymore, Stu either making up a silly excuse to take your textbooks or doing so silently. "Someone’s too smart to carry things.” He forces mock irritation into his voice. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” It’s half accusing, but you make no move to take your books back. 

“Uh-huh,” he hums dismissively, “Whatever you say, smarty.” 

----

You can’t remember the last time Stu’s house felt so hot, maybe it has to do with how overly humid the outside world is today, but you’re struggling to feel fully comfortable despite your contentment.

Stu’s talking, reiterating everything wrong with some low budget horror film he stumbled onto last night. You’re listening a little less than you’d like to and you honestly feel bad about it, but you can’t help the way the heat on the back of your neck distracts you. 

Billy sits up a little more, “I’m not surprised, your movie instincts are awful.” It sounds like the start of one of their debates that are better off without your interference, and you’re okay with that. This week has been long and this is the first moment that’s allowed you to really breathe. You don’t mind absorbing that for a second and just taking in their presence and the easiness it brings you. 

“They’re not worse than yours.” 

“Even Y/n picks better.” 

Something about the way Billy’s eyes focus on you makes you feel like it’s a genuine attempt on Billy’s part to bring you in a little more. Even though you don’t feel insulted, you still sit up a little more, “Thanks.” 

“Ouch, man.” The fact that Stu’s basically dropping the argument in order to add to the jab at your taste is enough to get you to turn your head. 

You glare, shoving his shoulder. “My taste is not bad.” They exchange a look that has you feeling like you’re on the outs of some joke. “You guys are the worst, I have no idea why I hang out with you.” 

“’Cause you love us.” Stu nudges his foot against yours, bumping your knees in the process. 

The additional closeness reminds you of the warmth of the room. To avoid crossing your arms or doing anything that would get them to accuse you of pouting, you begin to pull your hair away from your neck. The hair tie against your wrist smacks against your skin. Loud and stinging a little too noticeably. It’s not painful, but surprising enough to make you drop your hair. “Stu.” 

He ignores the harshness of your voice, instead choosing to chase after your wrist with one hand. “Give it.” There’s something about the way he says it that stands out to you. It’s reminiscent of a child noticing a brand new toy and instantly deciding that they want it. 

Before you realize what he’s asking for, Stu pulls the hair tie off of you and takes a second to stretch it between his fingers. What he’s trying to do finally sinks in when Stu slides the band up his wrist. You’re not in the mood to redefine how tender scalped you consider yourself to be, but there’s no way to say that in a way that won’t make Stu moody. 

“Turn.” It’s a command so gentle you listen instinctually despite your reservations.

You barely have a second to adjust before Stu’s pushing your hair back. “Are you--” His touch is surprisingly focused, not tugging on the strands in the way you’d expect him to. “Are you putting my hair up?” 

“Yep,” he pops the ‘p’ casually, like there’s nothing weird about this. 

He drags his palms against the top of your scalp a little clumsily. It’s not that weird. Not really, you decide, just different. Any type of ponytail or loose bun would have never taken you this long and it’s clear that Stu doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t hurt. He’s being restrained, gentle.

“You’re letting him do your hair?” 

You shrug at Billy’s comment, feeling a little awkward as Stu finally reaches your scalp. “The good thing about hair is that it always grows back.” Stu tugs at your hair pointedly. “Ouch.” 

"Rude.” 

“Billy started it.”

Billy half scoffs. “Just asked a question.” 

A pointed question. You’re about to point that out, but then you hear the tell tale snap of a hair tie being pulled off of a wrist. Stu twists it around your hair carefully and you ease. He lingers, fingertips brushing against your neck before releasing you.

You tilt your head slightly, surprised at how well your hair is pulled off your neck. Not tight enough to feel pulled or like the start of a headache but not loose enough to be annoying. Even though there was some hesitance, he did a lot better than you thought he would. Better than most boys would have done. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed he had never done anything like this before. You know about his older sister, and while she’s a sore subject now, maybe there was a time when she wasn’t. And even if that’s a stretch, Stu’s a total flirt that’s been circling around a relationship with Tatum for a minute now. 

 Your fingers brush against the end of your hair. “You did good.” 

“Give me some credit, babydoll.” You wrinkle your nose at that and Stu grins. “I’ve had a lot of practice. When a girl gives he--” 

“Ew.” And just like that, the moment ends. “You’re gross, I hope you know that.” 

“He knows,” Billy mumbles, tone extra casual to compensate for his slight smile, “Gets off on it, too.” 

You snort, an ungracefully sharp laugh as you sink further into the couch. Stu lets out a sound of protest, shooting a glare in Billy’s direction. “Fuck off.” You laugh again. “Both of you.”

Stu scoots away from you. With a sigh, you reach forward. He plays up his pain for a second but eventually relents, letting you tug his hand into the space between you two. 

---- 

It’s twisting--the world, your mind, the blank spot of the wall you’re tying to focus on. All of it. Swirling at a rate that’s practically nauseating as emotions you can’t fully label in your current state spur on the feelings. They’re a fog, disorientating and complicated. You don’t want to figure out each hue of your feelings so you label them under one umbrella: bad. 

You take a breath that’s meant to settle you, but it does the opposite. Your unsteadiness leaves you instinctually wanting to reach over, to grab Stu’s arm and stabilize yourself. But he’s standing there with that same illegible, yet clearly irritated expression. You’re not sure if it’s the beer on an empty stomach or what happened five minutes ago or the silence, but the yellowish tinge of the bathroom’s light adds something to Stu’s features. Something bordering on eerie. 

Part of you wants to speak, the rest of you feels like the best thing you can do is just keep standing there. You’re not convinced that Stu’s anger is fully directed at the third party. He’s at the very least annoyed at you. 

Leave it to Stu to think that you’re taking the side of the guy that kept hitting on you despite how visibly uncomfortable you got just because you didn’t want things escalating. It wasn’t worth it. Was the guy an annoying asshole? Yes. But you had it under control and Sidney and Tatum were right there. It wasn’t exactly dire. 

The quiet is ebbing at your patience. There’s probably some perfect thing to say to shatter the tension, but you can’t think of anything clever or tactful and the last thing you can handle right now is a fight. Your mind tunes into the music that’s softened by the closed space. The thumping base is both terrible and familiar. “I hate this song.” 

Stu blinks, gaze shifting towards you. He doesn’t quite ease, but he lets out a breath that could be considered a form of lighthearted acknowledgment. You’ll take it. “Last one was worse.” 

You let yourself smile. “Definitely competition.”

He pretends to gasp. “No argument,” he shoots his reply back so quickly you nearly get whiplash, “Color me shocked.” 

The theatrics do little to take away from the lethal levels of aggression pressed into his words. That did seem too easy. “I--I didn’t--” You don’t want to explain. You shouldn’t even need to. You were keeping his ass out of trouble. “I just didn’t want you to get in trouble. It wasn’t worth it.” He’s silent for a second, which you can’t make your mind up about. “He wasn’t worth it.” 

Stu scoffs, pushing himself away from the wall. “You’re defending hi--” 

“I am not.” Ugh. Can he not hear you? If there’s anyone in this situation that you’re trying to defend, to protect it’s Stu. You try to swallow, but your throat still feels overly dry. 

“You heard the shit he said about you.” 

Okay, speaking calmly is not working. “I don’t care about the shit he said about me, I care about you.” The blowup immediately fills you with regret. “It wasn’t that big a deal. You’ve said worse while we were literally in class.” 

Stu straightens in a way that makes his full height unignorable. You doubt that it’s intentional--he can’t help that he’s objectively tall, but noticing it now...And the way he’s looking a little beyond you with a hardened stare that feels more sober than it did a second ago. “The way he was looking at you and then he grabbed your arm.” Stu’s voice changes with no warning, taking a dark edge that nearly startles you. 

You blink, biting your tongue to keep from admitting that you had barely noticed. That sounds like purposefully playing oblivious, but it’s true. You had hardly looked at the guy until his clammy fingers were around your forearm. That had been scary. Even Sidney and Tatum had reacted. “Thanks for getting him off of me, by the way.” It feels awkward, but saying it takes a weight off of your check. “Even though the weird, testosterone match the two of you had after was totally unnecessary, it was nice of you.” 

Stu tilts his head, taking in your inability to look him in the eye. A flash of genuine shyness despite what you’ve had to drink. He can imagine your thoughts, the running of different words together to make sure you don’t say anything that he could turn into something embarrassing. It’s cute. You’re all fidgety and still a little tipsy. A rush of fondness strikes him with no warning. It’s dangerous, distracting when paired with the little alcohol he did let himself drink. 

It’s too much and he’s not used to it. The feelings are a web and his mind tangles around all he could say. A mix of the obscene kind of jokes that always make you role your eyes fondly and genuine comments that all burn down to the same, general meaning: “I’d kill for you.” 

Great. The words come out at the exact second Stu recognizes the truthfulness of it. He scrambles for some kind of joke he could make to change the subject before you can think about it too much. The more you know, the more at risk you are. And this is the exact kind of slip up Billy always gives him shit about. 

You smile, either unaware of the intensity behind his words or just choosing to ignore it. “Then it’s a good thing I wouldn’t ask you to. You’re too pretty for jail.” 

Your casual acceptance makes it easy. Stu lets himself smile for just a second before letting his mouth fall open in mock hurt. “I wouldn’t get caught, babe. I’m slasher material.” You raise your eyebrows in a silent challenge. “And you’ve seen these guns.” He flexes one arm, waiting for your attention to settle on that before reaching for you with his still free hand. Your yelp is more of a laugh than anything else. “I’d be fine.” 

Stu pulls you away from the bathroom door and towards his chest. You halfheartedly fight against him, twisting your wrist back in a way that’d be more efficient if it wasn’t for your laughter. “Stu.” 

“What?” You push back, Stu’s fingers tighten just slightly. “Just proving my point, sweetheart.” Another laugh as his first hand finds your waist. “Practicing what I preach.” 

After a second of play fighting, Stu gets you close enough that there’s no point in resisting. It’s somehow farther and closer than a hug, especially when Stu angles his head downwards. 

You like the closeness more than you should. It makes your head feel too jittery, but the rest of you so warm you almost don’t mind the awful music. “This party sucks.” Stu’s eyes focus on the slight pout of your lips. “Want to go and watch a movie or something and then pretend that we stayed here until later so Billy never has to know that he was right about how much this party would suck?”  

Stu tugs on your arm, placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Trying to get me back to your place?” You bite your tongue to avoid giggling again. The last thing he needs is encouragement. “Trying to take advantage of me? Because I promise you won’t have to work that hard at it.” 

You roll your eyes, half debating pulling away. “I’m taking back my offer.” 

“Hey--no take backs,” he squeezes your arm slightly and you resist for the sake of it, “C’mon, I’ll let you pick the movie if you sleepover.”

The offer surprises you as much as it doesn’t. Stu invites you more and more the longer his parents are out of town. He never says it, but you feel like it’s his way of keeping people around, reducing the quiet in his almost perpetually empty house. 

“Deal.” 

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), slow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: here's part 3! it's looking like this story is going to be surpassing my usual 5 parts... so, um... i hope everyone gets invested enough to keep reading past that!

Wordcount: 4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

You couldn't stop thinking about it, and it was so dumb. But... you simply couldn't help it.

That framed picture somehow would find its way back into your thoughts every so often. It felt a little weird, but you also kept almost automatically rationalising it for yourself. You had photos with Mark all over; your social media pages were littered with photographs of the two of you throughout the years, and the comments accompanying them would probably make anyone feel the same way you did about that framed photograph in Joe's hallway.

So then, why did that framed photograph feel so weird to you?

Joe loved Poppy like you loved Mark, you knew that to be true. The only reason Poppy wasn't weird about your friendship with Mark was because of her friendship with Joe.

You all understood on a level not many other people did.

But still... you didn't know why, but, that photograph of the two of them felt... odd. Kind of raised your hackles a little. So, you asked Mark if he'd seen it when he was over at yours for snack night: a night of lots of snacks and dips as a substitute for dinner.

"So, I've got a question... remember when I went over to visit Joe two weeks ago?"

Mark snuck a baby carrot into his mouth that scooped up a dollop of hummus twice its size, and then immediately wanted to say something.

"Hmm," Mark hummed urgently, his face in a deep frown as he chewed.

It took ages for him to get it down, but you waited because going straight in to call Mark's fiance's friend weird might not have been the best way to go about this.

"Yea, what the fuck happened?" Mark asked, eyes big, but already aimed at another snack to grab from another bowl.

"What do you mean? Nothing happened,"

Mark looked at you all sarcastically as he chewed, as if to say, yea, all right, sure.

"What? We talked about your wedding, set dates for events, you know, figured some things out," you waved a hand around to convey the casuality, "But–"

You were about to ask Mark if he'd seen that framed photo of Joe and Poppy that he'd cropped the two of you out of, but Mark interjected before you could bring it up.

"No... something happened." Mark said matter-of-factly and then he paused and looked at you, ready to listen to what you had to say for yourself. But, you kept quiet too, because what the fuck was he on about? So, Mark continued, "Joe didn't speak to Poppy for like... five days? Four or five days after that, which is," Mark leant back and tilted his head back to shout his next words towards the ceiling, "a huuuuge deal!"

"Oh, well, that must've been unrelated to our meeting... we just talked about your wedding, he said I was nice, and–"

"Ah!"

Mark pointed a finger at you that he held right next to his face, one eye closed as he looked at you.

"That's it. He said you were nice,"

"I am nice," you argued.

"Yea, we tell Joe all the time... but he said you were nice?"

Opting to ignore the fact that you'd now heard from several sources that people were talking about you behind your back, you explained how you'd nearly walked out after Joe thought he was being smart that night. How you had said that you were a nice person, implying that Joe could just have been friendly and polite, and it would've been normal. And then you explained how, at the end of the night, Joe had struggled through telling you that he agreed and thought you were nice too. You mocked Joe to paint a vivid picture for Mark and exaggeratedly stuttered your way through the words Joe'd said.

Mark just ate and listened to you, and by the end shook his head a little at your impression, a dangerous smile playing his face.

"But have you seen that framed photograph he has in his hallway? Right by the front door?"

You finally got to the point you were trying to make.

"Of Pop?"

"The one we're cropped out of," you were hoping for Mark to be a little outraged, but he remained totally calm.

"Yea, Poppy has the same one, we've got it framed upstairs, on the landing," Mark said as he licked spilled mascarpone from his finger. "Smaller version, though,"

"We're cropped out of that,"

"Yea,"

"Mark... we're cropped out of that," you needed more of a reaction from him.

"Yes."

But you didn't get it. Mark didn't seem bothered at all. Like you'd said, Mark was made of trust and had just gone and proven it once more.

"He went and had a photo printed that he then had to cut two people out of... don't you think that's weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"I mean, I don't know... there are so many other pictures of the two of them, why did he choose a pic that he had to cut us out of,"

Mark shrugged, said, "It's a nice photo of them," and that was that. It was a nice photo of them. It just... it bothered you. You were unable to articulate why it did, exactly.

A phone buzzed on the table, and both of you looked to see if yours was the one that was ringing. It turned out to be Mark's.

Joe was calling.

"Speaking of," Mark said, answering and bringing the phone to his ear, "Joe!"

Mark listened, then rolled his eyes at you even though you had no idea what Joe was telling him.

"How drunk?"

You couldn't help but let a huffed laugh escape you. Poppy and Joe had gone to the pub, you knew. Context clues filled you in on the situation.

"Fucking hell," Mark said and kind of slumped into your sofa more as he listened to whatever Joe was telling him. "I mean, I'd give you advice, but you've been in this situation more than I have,"

Mark was going to have to leave, wasn't he?

He suddenly laughed loudly at something Joe said, head tipped back, mouth wide open, before muttering, "Shared responsibility," softly, indicating he was repeating Joe's words back to him.

"Yea, no. All right, that's fine... see you in a bit. Keep a close eye on her, though, will you?"

Mark said it with love so evident in his voice, it made you scrunch up your eyebrows. If someone else had been there, you'd have made eye-contact with them and would've probably audibly awed.

Mark laughed again at something Joe said, then shook his head as he looked at you, like you knew what the fuck was going on.

When Mark hung up, he turned to you and without any warning said, "Let's go, we're going to the pub."

When you walked in about twenty minutes later, the place was absolutely packed.

"Go grab four beers, I'll find them," Mark said, and you asked, "Four beers? Not three beers and, I don't know, a sprite for Pop?"

"Four beers," Mark said again, holding four fingers up for emphasis before he pushed himself in between a few people and disappeared into the crowd. Off to find Poppy and Joe.

You turned towards the bar and sighed at the fact that Joe and Poppy hadn't just gone to a normal pub, but somehow, one that seemed to exclusively house an after-work-drinks sort of crowd. Most people were dressed smartly, men in suits with top buttons undone and women in pencil skirts and high heels that crossed their legs at the ankles as they held drinks against forearms that were folded over their stomachs. You were in jeans and converse and definitely felt out of place, but the atmosphere was nice. You almost couldn't hear the music over the loud chatter and the belly laughs.

Just when you thought, okay so how am I going to get these four drinks over to my friends when I don't know where they are, all three of them popped up right beside you.

And Poppy was wasted.

"Babe," she slurred as she slung both her arms around your neck the minute she laid eyes on you; eyes that were barely open and kind of crossed over, mind you.

For someone semi-posh, Poppy got sloppy alarmingly quick when alcohol entered her system. She was like you in that way.

"I love you, you know that?" Poppy sprayed into your ear loudly, voice control out of the window, and it made you wince at Mark over her shoulder.

"I'm taking her home," Mark said and that's when you noticed that Joe was trying to get one of Poppy's arms into her coat. She was still attached to you, however, so it really wasn't working out for him.

"I really do," Poppy didn't pay Joe any mind and instead evaded his hands and grabbed you by the face as she pulled back from her hug. For a second you were scared she was going to plant a fat drunk kiss right onto your face.

"Not like Mark does obviously, but I do love you, you're amazing,"

You frowned through a smile, not sure where this was coming from. Had Joe and Poppy talked about the two of you like you and Mark had talked about the two of them? That didn't sound completely out of this world. Kind of made sense, actually.

"Okay, Poppy," your frown turned into scrunched up eyebrows, but your smile remained, unwavering.

"No, listen to me," Poppy got all serious, her hands still clasping your face. She tried to make stern eye-contact, but her eyes were dancing.

"Let's go Pop," Mark interrupted, but it was like he wasn't even there.

"You're so important,"

She was so, so drunk. You could smell the liquor on her breath.

"Thanks,"

"And nice,"

You shot eyes over to Joe who quickly looked down, folding Poppy's coat over his arm, giving up on trying to get Poppy to put it on. He passed it to Mark who leant in to say something closer to his ear that you didn't catch, but Joe laughed, mouthed, "Tequila," and then held up 6 fingers. Mark groaned.

"Poppy," you moved your hands to covers hers and softly pried them off of you. "Thank you. I love you too. But, look who's waiting," you pointed a small finger over her shoulder at Mark, and Poppy seemed very annoyed which only made you laugh.

"Let's go, babe," Mark took hold of Poppy's shoulders and you saw him work to hold her up as much as he was working to guide her towards the exit. Her feet were everywhere and nowhere, just like her the aim of her eyes.

"Good luck," Joe grinned at Mark who looked back over his shoulder.

The two of you made eye-contact, and within 2 seconds of just looking at each other, you'd said goodbye and promised to call each other tomorrow, all unspoken.

"Don't let those beers to go waste," Mark nodded towards the bar where the four beers you'd just paid for still stood, waiting to be drunk.

Oh.

Immediate panic washed over you.

Mark and Poppy were leaving, which meant now you and Joe had four beers to share and... you and Joe had four beers to share.

Mark could've been smug about it. Could've made a face at you to tease, but he hadn't. Had just quickly said to drink the drinks and then turned his full attention to his fiancé who was bumping and leaning into people left, right, and center.

"You got it," Joe wasn't going to let himself be told twice and slid two glasses slightly more towards you before grabbing the other two, one drink in each hand, double fisting. It looked like Joe had also had a few drinks already, which, of course he had. Poppy hadn't been doing tequila shots on her own, you assumed.

Suddenly, your evening with Mark of bitching about Joe from the comfortability of your own sofa in your own flat had turned into an evening in a posh pub with the actual dude himself. Alone. Just the two of you in a sea of suits, button-ups and pencil skirts. The prospect of it was awful.

Who would mind two wasted beers? No one really. Certainly not you, at least. Joe could have all four if he wanted. You were about to come with a dumb excuse, a polite one, to get out of there, but before you could, Joe cleared his throat.

"So," Joe said, and you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Joe was sort of turned to you, full body language engaged and ready for a chat.

A chat.

With you.

Like normal people.

Like friends.

"Who's going to be your plus one?" Joe asked and immediately busied his mouth as he took a slow sip of beer, peering at you over the glass.

You frowned a little at his question, and then more at the way he looked. All suited up, top buttons of his shirt undone, loafers – he looked like everyone else there, fit right in amongst the office crowd even though you knew very well Joe didn't have an office job. Joe didn't know how to do water-cooler-talk, didn't know how office gossip worked. Why these after-work drinks at the pub were such an important part of working in an office. You did, or had done, but still, Joe fit in with everyone else and it was very clear that you didn't.

It made you feel inferior but also a little rebellious at the same time.

You reached for a drink for yourself, deciding that you actually would mind wasting two beers that you'd paid for and you copied Joe, taking an even slower sip than he did, buying yourself time. If this was going to happen, if you were going to have drinks and be out with Joe, you weren't going to be the first one to back out. You had said you were going to at least try to be friendly, hadn't you? And it seemed like Joe was trying, so now you had to too.

"For the wedding," Joe clarified, like you didn't understand what he originally meant.

You took long to answer, smacked your lips and looked at your glass as you lowered it, saying, "I don't think we get plus ones, Joe,"

It was Joe's turn to frown.

"Of course we do,"

"Don't think so,"

You had the wedding invitation stuck under a magnet on your fridge. Saw it every day. Nowhere did it mention a plus one for you. You assumed later because you'd been asked to be Mark's best man. You'd have actual jobs to do. Bringing a date just to leave him stranded was weird, and so it made sense to you.

"Why wouldn't we?"

Joe hadn't had the same train of thought, it turned out.

"Does your wedding invitation have a plus one on? Because mine doesn't,"

Joe thought back, eyes darting around but not really looking at anything. "I don't... I don't remember word for word exactly what the invitation said–" Joe paused abruptly and looked at you, one corner of his mouth slightly upturned. "Well, I do, of course," He didn't, but he didn't need you to know that. "But surely..."

"I think they kind of want us to focus on the jobs we've been given," you said, feeling all smug that you got to tell Joe something he didn't know yet. One-upping Joe felt stupidly good. You were in jeans! In dirty old canvas trainers!

"Oh yea," Joe quipped, and you didn't like how casual that suddenly sounded.

"Like not forgetting the rings,"

And there it was. In a reflex, you lifted your middle finger up at him and immediately realised that Joe could absolutely take full offense. You weren't people who flipped each other off for fun. You said you were to at least try to be friendly, but nothing else had really changed since your meeting over at Joe's house. You weren't suddenly people who were comfortable around each other to be mean in ways you could be mean with Mark, knowing that the bickering was never damaging but more a fun way to get actual frustrations out.

But luckily, Joe gasped a small gasp through a wide smile. No offense taken.

"I thought you said you were nice," the face Joe made almost seemed flirty.

"And you agreed," you threw right back at him. "Even told Pop about it,"

Joe didn't argue, and so you knew you were right. Joe and Poppy had talked about you and Mark.

A pause followed where you weren't sure how to continue the conversation, and the feeling of wanting to abandon the evening all together crept back in. You'd had half a beer, had said some words to each other, so you knew it'd be all right for you to now go, well, I actually have to go get going. But then, something else crossed your mind.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Joe absolutely wasn't expecting the tone switch in you, suddenly sort of serious.

"Have you thought about your speech already?"

You'd briefly mentioned it the other night, your speeches. You'd said that you would just need to make sure that the vague idea of them wouldn't be insanely different from each other. If you were just going to do a a short quick little cute speech, Joe couldn't do an insanely long one that included a whole PowerPoint presentation, or something else insane, like a song. But, you'd very quickly come to the conclusion that neither of you wanted to speak into a microphone for very long.

You wanted your speech to be heartwrenchingly beautiful though. Mark was going to fucking wail at his wedding, you'd absolutely make sure of it.

"I have," Joe said, nodded slowly, and for a second you thought, how the fuck is this guy an actor?! He was obviously lying.

"Okay..." you phrased it like a question, and a short silence followed where you both narrowed your eyes at each other, not fully trusting what wasn't said aloud. Joe was confusing you and you didn't like it.

"But we really don't get plus ones?"

You knew Poppy would have laughed at the way he said it. You didn't. You just shrugged.

"Maybe Poppy doesn't want you to bring a date, just because,"

Oof. Wrong thing to say. Insinuating all kinds of things Joe didn't appreciate, you could see it in the sudden tension in his jaw. It hit almost below the belt. You kind of meant it, though. Had that blown up framed photo of them on your mind still.

"And perhaps Mark doesn't want you to bring one for the same reason,"

You learnt the hard way that dishing it out was far easier than taking it.

That stung, like it always did when people would assume you and Mark were dating, and wouldn't believe it when you said you weren't.

It stung almost extra because you'd just thrown someone a comment you hated getting yourself, and then got it right back like you deserved. The fact that it was from someone who'd probably gotten the comment loads too made you feel even worse about it.

Served you right.

If the air between you hadn't been awkward but maybe sort of pleasant for a second, you missed it.

Slow sips from wet beer glasses were had, and you cursed yourself for not being able to just call it a night already. You were committed to win this now, even though none of this was a contest. Nothing ever was, but you were just like that. Couldn't help wanting to win at everything, especially when it came to petty shit like this. There was no way you were going to leave this pub before Joe did.

It was all awkward comments, feigned naturalness and ease, and when you finished your second beer, you hated how Joe just went and ordered another two. He kept you there and you realised he was onto you. He fucking knew you weren’t going to say no, weren’t going to be the one to back out first. You were too much like Poppy in that way, you thought, and it felt a little vulnerable. Like Joe could read you, could really see right through you, just because he knew Poppy so well.

But with alcohol in your system, you started feeling invincible. Feelings like guilt and regret took a back seat, which was dangerous.

Made you order the next round, just out of sheer spite. And you'd barely eaten - just things like cucumber and carrots with hummus and tzatziki - and started to really feel the effects of it.

Made you smile at a stranger like you shared an inside joke when he bumped into Joe and made him spill some of his drink.

Made you ask stupid questions, like why Joe had a cropped photo of him and Poppy framed in his hallway.

"I don't know if you've fully understood the situation, but I can explain it in simpler words, if you'd like?"

Patronising. Joe spoke to you like you were an idiot.

"I am friends with Poppy, and have been friends with her for a looong time. We're family, and sometimes it's nice to have photographs of family up on your walls. Some people think so, at least,"

So very patronising, it was honestly insulting. He was also missing the point. Didn't understand what you meant. He probably wouldn't, even if you explained it, you thought, so you left it alone.

"It's okay if you don't get it," Joe looked down his glass before adding, "if you don't have that same sort of bond with Mark, I don't expect you to understand," and taking a sip.

Too far.

You were getting too intoxicated to just... take shit like this.

"Oh you wouldn't fucking know what friendship was if it stared you right in the face," you challenged.

For a second tonight had been about proving to each other that your friendship with you best friends didn't cross any inappropriate boundaries. Now, however, it was suddenly all about proving to Joe that your friendship with Mark outweighed his friendship with Poppy.

Joe had no fucking idea how bonded you and Mark were.

How you'd gone through absolutely shit in your teens, and how Mark had managed to haul you through, pulling you out at the other end with a lot less scars than you'd imagined beforehand.

How you'd spent years not thinking you'd live past your teens, battered and bruised from trusting people you were told time and time again you could trust. Had to trust. But should've never trusted. How Mark was the one who'd held out a friendly hand and had proven to you time and time again that men sometimes didn't want all the things you weren't ready to give. Weren't willing to hand over.

How Mark had fixed parts of you which you'd redeemed unfixable until he'd gotten all up in there.

How Mark was solely responsible for your strong belief in the power of kindness. The power of true friendship. The platonic soulmates type of shit.

Joe had no fucking idea. And so you told him again, "You wouldn't even fucking recognise it,"

Joe was about to fight you on it, but he felt something had shifted. Saw something in your expression, in your eyes, that made him swallow his words whole.

Joe saw something that made him believe you on your word. Maybe his friendship with Poppy was a small tiny thing in comparison.

"I'm sorry," Joe's features softened immediately upon the sight of you, and it was all kinds of wrong.

Somehow everything felt unfair all of the sudden.

You needed to leave.

Needed to be polite and thank Joe for the lovely evening all sarcastically and leave without a good excuse to do so. Just, get out.

Away from Joe who didn't understand. Who made fun. Who judged. And who was he to fucking talk?

When you hurridly turned, intending to run, Joe gently reached and touched your upper arm. Strong fingers, but somehow a soft touch.

"I need to leave," you said, and without saying anything else, Joe let you go and let you walk out.

No questions asked.

No goodbye from either of you.

—

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[beanibon]

Could you write headcanons about Vash dating someone who also has a bounty on their head? Not from anything like murder or thievery, but a sizable group that holds a personal vendetta against them. Hope this isn't too vague. Thanks.

I think I do, kinda as if they wronged someone and they put a hit/bounty on them? (At least that my understanding)

TW: not any really, do let me know if I need to add any

Vash didn't really know the extent of your bounty the first time he met you, nor did he ask as it wasn't his business to. But since you've started dating you were a little more open about it, explaining how you've somehow ended up wronging an old gang your family was apart of.

Vash was super understanding, vowing he'd protect you if anyone dared to harm you. In a non-violent way of course, which you'd be lying if that didn't worry you.

You respected Vash's code of no killing, but you weren't much of a fighter yourself, so you still embarrassingly needed to heavily rely on him for protection.

After a particularly nasty incident regarding a few bounty hunters, you begged Vash to teach you how to shoot a gun. He reluctantly agreed, only after hissing in pain of pulling another bullet from his shoulder.

It took you a while to gain enough confidence to shoot a gun, even after weeks of Vash teaching you. Something about shooting others, even for survival felt wrong.

Since the both of you have bounty's on your heads, it makes it hard to have intimate moments. Hotels could be hard to book, meaning snuggled together in a single sleeping bag, which neither of you minded, but I bed would've been more ideal.

Vash, who is extremely touch-starved, always wants to have you close. Especially if you two barely escaped being shot full of bullets, he'd want to hold you close, nuzzle into you, fill his senses with you. It reassures him that you're still there, still alive and with him.

The one major issue with being constantly on the run, is there'll always be trouble lurking around every corner. A shoot out waiting to happen the moment you two sneak into a town, someone will recognise either you or Vash, or both.

You've been injured a few times, only by a blade though, as you're wanted alive. But there was one occasion where a bounty hunter got a little too trigger happy, resulting in a bullet burying itself deep in your thigh.

Vash spent that entire afternoon, doting on you in the hospital. He was worried sick the moment you screamed out, by your side in a heartbeat.

He pampered you. Just imagine all the donuts he'd buy you, if flowers grew on Gunsmoke you best believe the room would be full to the brim with a variety of them. He never left your side, apologising constantly for not keeping an eye on you.

You simply smiled, ruffling his hair as you kissed him, reassuring him that it wasn't his fault. He appreciated that, pushing you over a little so he could snuggle up next to you.

(Was scolded by the nurses the next morning).

Vash cares for you deeply, and will do anything to make sure you're safe and living life to its fullest. He loves you and you love him, if circumstances were different he was sure you'd both be happily together in an old cabin, cuddling on a sofa.

[moreliketearsofpain]

Old Friends | Mando x Reader

Part 1 of my new series ‘Weakness’

Part 2

Full story will also be on my Wattpad

"I didn't realize asking for a ride was so offensive on this planet!" I roll my eyes, wiping blood from my nose as I crouch behind a large crate.

"Show yourself you thieving SCUM!"

For a moment, the fact that you're currently in the midst of what is essentially a fight to the death slips your mind. You quickly stand from where you hid, turning to to face your opponent with a look of offense branding your face.

"Thief?! Jinshi, pal, don't you think that's a little ha-" your eyes widen and you drop to the floor, the sound of your rival's blaster, firing overhead. "Harsh, I was going to say harsh..."

"Stop hiding you coward!" Jinshi bellows, firing another shot, this time shattering the corner of the crate. You feel the anger building; for once in your life you hadn't been in the wrong, you'd come into town hoping to find passage on a ship but an old "friend" seemed to have other plans.

"Jinshi..you know I don't want things to end like this-" one last attempt at diffusing things without any more violence than what has already occurred . "But you also know that I'll do what I have to do to save my own ass. Always have, always will."

Silence. You don't hear so much as a footstep.

"Jinshi?" you stand slowly, blaster tight in hand as you survey the room. The confusion only lasts for a moment, as two stubby arms latch themselves around your neck from behind. Your weapon hits the floor and your hands shoot up, grabbing tightly onto the limbs that bind you.

"I told you you'd pay for what you did to my family!" Jinshi growls as his grip tightens, arms constricting around your neck like a snake preparing its meal.

"And I told you-" each word catches in your throat as you use all your strength to loosen his hold as much as possible. Even the air struggles to pass through. "I told you, it wasn't me!"

Another blaster shot rings through the room, followed by a heavy thud and suddenly your lungs are flooded once more. Eyes wide, you look around, hands still at your neck.

"Jinshi?" you crouch beside his limp body, feigning a look of sadness before reaching a hand under his collar and snatching a locket off of the corpse.

"Guess you were right...maybe I am a thief." standing now with a disgusted expression, you give your old friend a final word. "Bastard."

"If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have shot." A vaguely familiar voice echoes behind you. "Or maybe I would have...just not him."

"Mando." You turn smoothly, a sarcastic grin emerging as you see the familiar sheen of his beskar.

"I almost feel bad for the guy...I'm sure whatever his reason was for wanting you dead, it was justified." he takes slow steps forward, keeping a solid aim locked on you with his blaster as he closes the gap between you.

"Oh how I love visits with old friends.." you match his pace, stepping forward, not even bothering to get to your weapon.

"What did I tell you about that armor?" his voice is cold and demanding as he holds his stance. Your arms swing out at your sides as you glance down at your armor, the style of which resembles his own.

"Oh come on, don't you think it suits me?" the mischievous smile growing on your lips is just the icing on top of the faux-charm act you're performing.

"Take it off. Or I will." he takes one more step forward. With every inch lost between the two of you, his looming dominance grows. Even with his helmet inhibiting you from seeing the brows that you knew were furrowed in disgust, you could feel his power. It was a force that radiated out from within and showed in the way he held himself, but the intimidation wouldn't set you back.

"Oh please," you glance at his gun and back up. "You wouldn't want to damage the precious armor that you care so much for, now would you?"

"You talk too much."

"Says the man who saved my life."

"I said take it off. Now."

"Or else you will, right?" a final step is taken in his direction. "I'd like to see you try."

"What was that?" you could see his frustration in the way he cocked his head, his grip on the blaster shifting.

"I said..." your voice drops to a slow whisper as you lean closer. "I'd like to see you try..."

You maintain a deep stare at him, a stare so strong he could've sworn you could see right through his helmet. Without breaking your gaze you swiftly grab at his blaster, successfully disarming him and aiming his own weapon back at him, keeping it tight, pressed against his abdomen. Had it been surprise or anger that kept him quiet, you couldn't tell, but you used your new position of power to your advantage.

"Now what do you say...we make a deal?" the tip of the blaster presses more firmly against his body as your voice stays low.

"Unlikely." a simple reply from the man of few words, to which you respond with a feigned look of pleading innocence.

"Oh come on now Mando, I think we could help each other out, don't you? See, you want this armor...I want passage off this sorry excuse for a planet..." you raise your eyebrows, head tilting up. "Can't we come to some sort of agreement?"

There's a tense pause before he replies.

"Not happening." You relax your arm, letting the blaster fall to your side with a half-assed shrug.

"Ah...what a shame.." you turn on your heel, beginning to walk away without another word.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"there's a spike of urgency in his voice as he takes a brisk step towards you. Even quicker than before, you turn around, blaster now held out straight, a firm grip holding perfect aim at his head.

"Ya know...that armor may be tough and all...but there's this nice little spot.." you slowly drop your aim ever so slightly down. "Right at your neck...a fully exposed jugular. Nothing but a bit of fabric to protect it, a fatal shot if made right...and I never miss."

One last pause before finishing your final offer to the hunter before you.

"I'll give you one last chance...you give me passage on your ship, I give you your silly little armor back, everyone wins."

He takes a moment to contemplate, his helmet not doing much to stop you from feeling the daggers his eyes are shooting through you. The pause is broken and he gently raises his hands in surrender, causing you to relax, blaster dropping to your hip.

"Fine." no other words are said, he simply extends his arm, his hand requesting the return of his weapon. But you shake your head, pulling the gun away from his reach.

"You'll get this back," you give a slight wave of the blaster. "Once I'm safely on that ship of yours."

All you hear is a muffled grunt as he pushes past you. Quickly, you grab your own blaster off the floor and follow him as he leads you to the spacecraft.

[mrs-murder-daddy]

This is my entry in the HBOWarDaily's Short Story Exchange! This is written for the wonderful @rosemarynightmares-art

A/N: I tried to make it vague about where in Europe the reader is from but she is in England for some reason. Why? Who knows? Also this title has nothing to do with the fic I just like the sound of it

TW: Brief mentions of sexual harassment committed against Chuck but it's not graphic or explicit, outdated ideas about masculinity and unwanted sexual advances

I Should've Known It Was Strange You Only Come Out at Night

Chuck Grant x Reader

It's a cold night in Aldbourne, the perfect night to be rugged up in your nice warm bed. Instead you're out celebrating with friends. Betty had scored a date with a handsome American soldier and naturally the rest of your friends thought it was a reason for celebration.

The pub was packed, half of the patrons were the American soldiers and the other half were young people from Aldbourne (and surrounding villages), eager to catch a peak at them. Your friends quickly began their drinking, never without a pint. You decided to pace yourself, ready to keep an eye on them.

When Betty nearly fell out of her chair on her way to get another round, you suggested she accompany you to the bathroom. You helped splash her face and fix her hair. Then you made your way back out. You did a little head count, making sure no little sheep got lost.

You only counted four. There was a fifth, where was the fifth? You sat Betty down at the table and asked the girls to look after each other while you found your fifth. You strained to look through the crowd, the loud hubbub of conversation distracting you. Then you spotted her. Her red hair wasn't hard to miss, it matched Betty's so sweetly.

Clara was not your friend really, she was Betty's little sister who 'just had to come see the men' with you all. She was freshly 18 and a very naive 18 at that. You waded through the crowd to grab her attention when you noticed something off. She had cornered a man, a very handsome man.

She had him backed against a booth seat and her hand was placed rather high on his leg. His face was nothing short of discomfort.

You didn't mean to be quite so violent but you pulled her arm hard to get her away.

"Clara! What do you think you're doing?" You shouted and pushed her not-so-gently back towards your table. You turned to the man and asked, "Are you alright?"

He seemed to snap out of some distant expression and turned on the charm. "Better now you're here."

You saw through it though, "I won't make excuses for her but I do feel I should apologise for her behaviour."

The soldier sniffed and tried to shrug it off, "Nah it's flattering to get that kind of attention."

You decided to let it go, but continued, pointing over your shoulder, "Look I have to herd them all home but if you wanted me to walk with you too, or come back here and check in with you I can."

He got a strange little smile on his face. "I think I'd like that."

You did exactly as you said, coming back to find the man nursing another beer.

He smiled up at you gently as if he didn't expect you to follow through.

"You know you can tell me honestly, are you okay? What Clara did isn't right."

He looked into his pint glass as if it had the answers but instead he found nothing. He just shook his head.

You nodded in understanding and instead held your hand out to shake his. You gave him your name and he gave his.

Chuck Grant. Well it certainly sounded like an American name.

"Hey do you wanna get out of here?" He said suddenly.

"Uh, I'm not sure that's a good idea after… you know…"

Chuck laughed a little too loud and clarified. "No I meant just for a walk or something, it's too loud in here."

You weren't sure why but you agreed. He offered his arm for you to link up and led you outside, ignoring the whistles and catcalls.

While you walked, you spoke about many things. Life back home, what you'd be doing if it weren't for the war, and what you hoped life would be like after. About ten minutes in, you began to shiver. It was much colder than you expected.

Chuck stopped and began to shuck off his jacket, ready to offer it to you. You protested immediately and offered shyly if you could share it.

He smiled and held his arm up for you to tuck under. You looked for confirmation before wrapping your arm around his waist.

The walk back to your sharehouse was one of warm conversation, both literally and figuratively. You were tucked into a handsome man's coat and he… well he had the prettiest girl in Europe under his arm.

[lonesplashy]

Ok I see ppl on Tumblr talking Abt how much they liked the final episodes but honestly I was severely underwhelmed by the fionna and cake ending. If you don't want to see me just list out everything I like and dislike and why according to my arbitrary personal preferences scroll now.

The second half of the fight with scabby was meh and repetitive. At least the gumlee was cute. Fionna is still the bestest even if her final fight kinda sucked. I love her dearly and I hope she is living her best life.

The lack of Ooo Marceline in the end was literally so disappointing too I wish we could've seen her again at SOME point.

And just in general the ending felt really rushed, I feel like if they had some more episodes to work with it would've been a lot smoother.

Simons pov was just so severely underwhelming, it just felt like filler to me.

I literally didn't care if it was going to be happy or sad ending for Simon as long as it made me feel things like the last couple of episodes did but it just felt totally flat. It didn't really feel like an ending at all. I wouldn't even mind the breakup angle they took under normal circumstances if it wasn't for the fact he like. Literally spent 12 years basically being in a constant mental breakdown, and a thousand years before that subconsciously searching for her, and her literally driving herself to insanity and becoming golb to keep him safe, but wow suddenly everything's chill cuz he played a video game. Ok. Simon just realized that whoops he didn't always take Betty's feelings into account and they parted ways.

And I will repeat: I DO NOT MIND THE BREAK UP ANGLE. IT MAKES SENSE OBJECTIVELY. HOWEVER. IT FEELS LIKE THERE WAS LIKE. TWO MINUTES OF THOUGHT PUT INTO IT. DEFINITELY NOT SUPER HEARTSTRINGS PULLING TO ME. DO NOT GET IN MY COMMENTS BEING WELL ACTKULLY THIS IS JUST ME COMPLAINING ABOUT CARTOONS.

I liked the golbetty in the bus and the golbetty statue. I could bs something about them going their separate ways on a journey the other can't go on and insert trigun quote here about how the ticket to the future is always blank but I just really like golbetty. She's great shes monsterous she's perfect.

Just in general Simon and Betty felt off to me during the final episodes, I can't really put my finger on it but they just felt weird. I'm sure Betty's been doing a lot of thinking in the void and all but it still fell to the left of them I think. The whole time I was watching I was just like. Hm.

Edit: got it. Betty has always been wanting to keep Simon thinking about her. Always. With AI Betty head she flat out said "I knew it would drive you crazy but at least you'd always be thinking about me" and it's like a core thing she does stuff for the Dramatics. While you can argue she's been doing a lot of thinking in the void and matured because of it she's also been a goddess of CHAOS. If anything she's gonna go more loony rather than more mature.

Not to sound like a doomed crazy yuri enthusiast but there are literally no normal or healthy actions you can take after literally becoming a god for someone.

Maybe I'm just too committed to the bit but I'm a solid believer that if you start a weird fucked up path you gotta end on a weird fucked up note. Although the severe disappointment of nothing happening is probably the most fucked up thing they could do to me.

Ik it's supposed to be some sometimes life doesn't give you a tidy ending stuff but also this is fiction I get enough fuck yous like this from reality and ignored job applications I want my fuck yous from fiction to be not sadly vague. Or at least better written.

At least Simon's in therapy. About time.

And the little emoticons he's using in his phone. :)

Do feel free to put your own opinions in on whether you liked or disliked the ending just play nice 🤙

[data-expunged-0]

Apex Predator

Yeah, this is a rewrite of that shitty pred!tommy fic that I wrote a while back.

Anyways, this fic contains soft, safe vore, mentioned fatal vore(don't worry nobody dies in this), angst, and vague threats. Don't like, don't read.

Also, THIS IS ABOUT THE CANON CHARACTERS, NOT THE CREATORS For those of you who can't tell the difference, canon Dream, or c!Dream, is the one who was tortured in a prison. Content creator Dream, or cc!Dream, is the one who does 3v1 Minecraft manhunt rematches every other day.

You scrambled through the forest as Sam chased after you, rain pitter-pattering on the muddy ground. "Just stop running already! Quackity and I just want to talk!" You knew damn well Sam was lying. If he 'just wanted to talk', then he wouldn't have his trident out.

The event was clear in your mind. You owned a home near Quackity's casino in Las Nevadas, and Quackity had called you, asking you to come to his office one last time to have a 'friendly chat.' He then threw a weird, cyan splash potion that shrank you to a fraction of your height and ordered Sam to kill you.

You couldn't outrun Sam. You knew you couldn't. He was far faster than you could ever be. But that didn't mean he was smarter.

Well, he probably was smarter, but he relied on some sort of thermal vision to find keep track of where you were going. He was never much of a tracker, so he had to be tracking something that wasn't scent, since the gas mask would throw that off. Your eyes darted around the forest floor, desperately looking for something you could throw at him or something. You then spotted a puddle of mud.

I saw a guy do this in a toothpaste ad once, you thought to yourself as you covered yourself in mud. You grimaced at its weird texture as it partially dried, but it was either that or getting caught by Sam.

Sam slowed to a stop near you, looking around and sniffing the air. Eventually, he walked right past you, continuing his search. You breathed a sigh of relief once he was out of earshot, but then you heard footsteps. Loud footsteps. And... crying?

Suddenly, Tommyinnit burst through some nearby foliage. From what you'd heard, Dream was messing with Tommy while he was in exile. By the looks of it, Dream had taken things too far.

Unlike Sam, who relied on thermal vison to see you, Tommy spotted you almost immediately. "Reader? Is that you? What are you doing here?" "I- long story."

Suddenly, you heard paws impacting against the muddy ground. Sam was coming back. He'd probably heard you and Tommy talking. Tommy could tell from the fear in your eyes that you needed to hide.

Tommy went through his options in his head. He could shove you in his pocket and run, but Sam would hear him. He could put you in his hoodie pocket, but Sam would hear him and his favorite hoodie would be ruined. There was only one more option, but you wouldn't like it.

"Reader, I have an idea on how we can get out of here, but you need to trust me." "Okay. What's the plan?" "There's no time to explain. You're completely sure that you trust me?" "Yes! Now hurry up!"

Tommy grabbed you with both hands, and you immediately regretted telling him to hurry up. He haphazardly shoved you in his mouth, licking the mud off your clothes and face as you tried not to scream, desperately hoping he wasn't going to do what you thought he was.

Those hopes were immediately crushed as his tongue guided you to the back of his mouth and towards his throat, you bit your tongue until it bled to keep yourself from screaming.

You slid down his esophagus and into his stomach with a wet plop. There, you cried as quietly as you could, hearing Tommy talk to Sam.

"Tommy, have you seen Reader anywhere? I was just looking for them." "Nope. Sorry, big man."

Sam sighed, then walked away. Tommy tried to find a spot next to the tree that wasn't muddy. He sat down, resting one hand on his stomach.

"Alright, so I've got a bit of explaining to do." "No shit, sherlock! What made you think that was a good idea?!" "I dunno, man! I was just..."

Tommy sighed. He didn't really have a good answer. He just knew it would be safe somehow. Neither of you really cared how. Tommy sat under the tree, purring as he started to doze off...

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 27: Whelve 🕳️

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Whelve (v.)

to turn (as a dish or vessel) upside down usually to cover something

to bury something deep; to hide

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Whichever one I was the most lost on how to handle before? Scratch that, this one takes that cake now. If it wasn’t obvious. 😅

It was also yet another chaotic day with not much time to play. I hope that doesn’t continue for the remaining 4…🫠

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk a bit more about my general thoughts/process. ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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😮‍💨 Sparklers, I'm tired. Remember how I said yesterday was a chaotic day around the house? That was true again today. And now you know why this piece both went up particularly late for the Obscutober pieces and spent a fair bit of time without a proper description afterward, too. 😅

Now, also to be fair, I wasn't as upset as I probably should have been about the chaos and the delays it caused because I had exactly one idea for this mandala, and it did not feel like a good enough idea to carry the mandala on its own.

...And yet, that's essentially what I did: Go with that one idea and make it carry the whole mandala. Care to take a guess what said idea was?

Granted, if I'd had more time when I was finally about to sit down and worry about the art for today, I probably would have experimented and dug for more ideas, at least to see what my options were even if the outcome wasn't that different. But that was time I just didn't have today.

So. In case you couldn't guess, my main idea was shovels, after the whole "bury something" part of the definition.

...Alright, I admit that I did briefly toy with the idea of turtles, since they tie in well with concept of hiding. But I didn't end up incorporating that both because the longer I thought about it, the less it seemed to fit, and also I really could not be bothered with the amount of trial-and-error I knew it would take to get a turtle in this style that was to my liking. 👎

I think generally this word, for me, would've been better suited to a mini-magnet approach. I could just as easily be wrong, though.

Still, with shovels as my base, the next logical thing I could think to do was just make some ground surrounding the shovels; Emphasizing how you'd use a shovel to dig down deep, through multiple layers of dirt. And that explains the bulk of the mandala, except...

Those square not-quite-flower things at the end of every shovel. What's that about?

Honestly, I just wanted something else that was less doodle-y, less specifically tied to the ground/shovel concept, and maybe kinda felt like it tired more into hiding.

It's a very loose connection, but I was sort of thinking this square-ish motif at least vaguely went with "hide" since the edges are dark and the center almost looks like a mid-bloom flower or something. So maybe in some sense you'll get a "flower hiding secrets" kind of vibe from it?

Similarly, the fill-in colors for those wasn't really thought out. I just went with colors I thought would look good—Which I think was a success, at least!

There might have been hints of "gold for treasure, like you'd bury" or "red like an X-marks-the-spot would be on a map" influencing me there, but I won't swear to it, and I'm genuinely still not sure of where the blue came from other than making a nice primary palette. 🤷‍♀️

Sooo...That's kinda it. 😅 I do think visually, as a piece of art, it came out well—pretty, even! My hang up is purely that it doesn't tie back into the definition for the word super well. Quite possibly the worst so far on that front.

But, given the events of the day, I'm going to mostly let it go and just be happy that it does look nice and that I was able to get it done and posted in time.

I am hoping though that this coming week, things will calm down a little bit so we can end the month on a higher note...I'm expecting that, because I know how these things tend to go, but I can dream, can't I? 🫠

Now if you Sparklers will excuse me, I need a bit of a rest before it's time to start on the next one of these. 😴

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See the Prompt List

Artwork © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️=

[shzmluvrs]

Hi! I'm the same anon that requested the "Batson and The Bat's son" imagine. I'm so glad you had fun writing it ❤️ and honestly- I can't stop rereading it 😭 words can't describe how it makes me feel (in the best way ofc!). I'm hoping it isn't too soon to be asking for a (kinda) sequel 💀 or prequel- depends on you!

Basically Billy talks about the reader to his family but he's kinda vague, since he doesn't wanna reveal too much and he knows Freddy would bombard him and her with questions if he says too much. They also haven't met the reader yet so they start joking that she's imaginary. One day the team gets themselves into a situation they can't get out of. So the reader comes in and saves them and in the heat of the moment Billy says smth like "SEE- SHE'S REAL". After he says that he has to inevitably introduce the reader to them. Idk what else I want to happen 😭 tho I trust your creative mind 🛐 pls take your time and have a good day ✨💖

Omg haii😼!! I'm so happy you enjoyed it, like, I wasn't sure how well it was going to turn out, but I think I did right by you, which is always the goal for any requester🫶🏽. Anyhow, yes, I am happy to continue your "Wonder-Daughter dates Billy" lore, I'm super into this, and I really hope you like it😙💕.

~ Star✨️

Themyscirian Girlfriend

Prompt: The duties of being an "average" teenage boy are proving to be quite difficult for Billy. School, chores, being a superhero, keeping your family safe from supervillains, magic, and monsters... And, oh yeah, making sure you don't get beat up by your superhero girlfriend's best friends. OH, and make sure you don't reveal her secret identity to anyone...

That last bit is extra difficult when you have a nosy, superhero obsessed, younger-by-a-month little brother, though.

Timeline: Post S!:FOTG

TW/Content: Freddy teasing TF outta Billy⚡️Bizzaro cameo😱?!⚡️Swearing, cuz teenagers do that⚡️You (reader) being so awesome-powerful-cool⚡️Billy loving you so, so, so much🥺⚡️So many references, be like Ash and Ketchum all

Reader: Fem! She/Her/Hers Pronouns! Wonder Woman's Daughter!

Requested By: Anon

Back to Master List

The golden light casted above the two of you dowsed your body in gold, creating an aura around your figure that Billy wished was nothing short of permanent. Not that he didn't already believe you to be a gift he had no clue how he earned. He just thought the added halo effect seemed fitting, even if it was just a result of a house/porch light that needed thorough cleaning.

"Thank you for joining me today." You spoke once he disconnected his earbuds from the jack of his phone. "I had a great time with you, as always."

"Of course! I'd never miss a chance to go out with you." He admitted, a lot quieter than his voice had previously been on the walk back to his home. But swiftly, the confidence returned as he clicked his phone off and smiled.

"Next time, I'll introduce you to some Steve Lacy."

You tilted your head while he went on in better clarification.

"He's another musician. You'll like him."

Your lips formed an 'Oh' shape as you nodded in understanding before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and then his forehead.

"I'll see you next week, okay, Billy?"

He nodded, ignoring the heat rising through his body at your simple acts of affection. Maybe he had gotten a little used to giving it, but receiving it back was always such a hassle for his mind. Though you couldn't help but find it endearing when he'd trip and stumble over his words or be genuinely left in surprise whenever you'd reciprocate whatever love he had to offer.

But not this time, because he had focused himself on a heavier subject matter, his words catching you before you could walk away.

"Do you really have to go?"

"Hm?" You hummed in confusion, your head turning to look back at him. It was once you saw the look of forlorn glossed in his eyes that you gave him your full attention again, making your way back in front of him as he explained.

"For the week, I mean. Do you really have to go all the way back to Them... There-is... Themu...uh..."

"Themyscira?" You finished, Billy nodding at the correct pronunciation of your birthplace while you giggled.

"You can just call it Paradise Island. But, thank you for trying."

Billy nodded respectfully, almost laughing while he talked.

"Yeah, I bet it is paradise if there's more girls like you over there..."

"Huh?" You quirked a brow at his statement, Billy immediately sensing his slip-up and grasping at loose straws to fix it.

"I... I just mean, because like, I really like you and since you're from there, there's other women like you, or...your mom."

"What?!" You gasped, Billy letting out a curt sigh at his own, horrible explanation. So, he just gave up instead. It was probably for the best. Or, more accurately, in his best interest.

"I just-! I'd...! I love you, and I'd never breathe in another person's direction because nobody can compare to you...?"

"...Much better." You praised his statement that came out as more of a question waiting for your approval, giving him a playful narrow of the eyes while he gave a breath of relief.

"But, yes, I do have to return to Themyscira. I am due to compete in this year's Amazonian Olympic Games. They will determine whether or not I am worthy of my title and abilities. You, of all people, should understand this given you have a magical wizard looking out for you and your family, yes?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"-Plus, I just..." You sighed, looking off for a moment in melancholy. "I just really want to make my mother proud. She was much younger than me when she first competed, and though she didn't win, I still have a lot to live up to since I haven't returned in nearly eight years."

Billy nodded, showing his understanding for the matter while your gaze remained glued to the porch floor beneath you.

"Are you nervous?" He asked, and almost instantly, you nodded. Hell, just thinking about the whole ordeal made the jitters appear in your stomach and hands.

"Immensely."

With a warm smile, Billy gently took both of your hands into his, cupping them so they'd stop shaking while making sure he was able to hold eye contact with you.

"Well, I just want you to remember that you'll do amazing. No matter what happens, you're still worthy to me, and you'll always have a place here. Just, y'know...be careful. And good luck; don't let them get in your head."

"Oh, Billy..." You sighed in fondess but didn't get to express any further gratitude for his kind words as he went on.

"And also, call me if something happens."

You gave him a look, one that was a clear expression of, "Do you really think we have those silly little phone-thingies on the island...?" He caught it, nodding side to side a little before re-wording.

"Send me a bird letter if anything happens. And like, seriously, be careful because I know it's probably a long trip there and back. Which reminds me, please come back soon. And-!"

"-Billy...!"

He hushed.

"...I will, don't worry yourself. I'll be careful, I'll send you bird letters, and most importantly..."

Just as you had before, but directly on his right dimple this time, you placed down a gentle kiss. A reminder and a promise.

"I love you. And I will be back as soon as I can be."

You watched in amusement at the boy in front of you beginning to grow even more bashful than before, unable to look you in the eyes for fear he'd just crumble beneath you. And honestly, neither you nor him would have it any other way. But, just to be on the safe side and make sure he didn't actually do so, you were quick to capture him in a real kiss. Billy eager to return it with a passion that was predictable yet always appreciated and matched.

"You know I have super-hearing, right...??"

The voice went echoed into the air, the same place your skirt and hair went flying at the sudden gust of wind that almost knocked the two of you over.

"The hell...?" Billy commented as he held you to keep the two of you from falling over, looking around in confusion while you merely rolled your eyes.

"Jon..." You all but murmured, and in reference to his super-hearing, he responded with another burst of speed and more echoed words.

"I'm just saying, like, are you two done now? I don't wanna hear you guys swap spit."

"Obnoxious with the use of your powers, I fear you may hardly deserve them...!! Bring yourself here so you don't have to keep listening in!" You shouted in a scolding tone before letting out a breath and shaking your head.

"Sorry. He's my ride." You both explained and apologized to Billy, the boy nodding in understanding with a slight chuckle before the two of you smiled at Jon's very fast appearance. Stopping right in between you with a quickly dispersing cloud of air behind him, he was quick to give you a joking snarl as you shot him a deadpanned glare.

"Can we go, now? I have a cerfew, too, y'know."

"Yeah, well, some of us can't fly, nor have super-speed. Consider yourself lucky."

The raven-haired boy simply shrugged, sticking his hand out towards Billy to initiate a greeting that the brunette returned with a smile.

"'Sup, Jon?"

"Nothin' much, just, y'know... saving the world. No biggie."

Billy nodded in understanding as they dapped each other up, a smug smile gracing both of their lips.

"Same, same."

"Idiots..." You sighed, unable to contain your smile at the friendship that had blossomed between the two. Damian, on the other hand... was still a work in progress, hence is absence.

It wasn't long after their brief moment of catching up that the two of you took your leave, Jon carrying you as you waved down to your boyfriend for the final time this evening, him waving back until Jon was swiftly out of sight. A loud, crashing boom of him breaking the sound barrier to follow up after that caused the front door to swing open.

"I thought I said no Shazaming in the house...?"

Billy whipped around to face Victor, thinking quickly to come up with a viable excuse.

"It wasn't me!"

Nice one, Billy.

"It was my girlfriend, she just left, like... two seconds ago."

Victor raised a brow at his son's explanation, watching as he scratched the back of his neck while continuing to ramble on.

"Well, technically, it wasn't her. She was getting a ride from someone else and he- It- Whatever, nevermind, it doesn't matter."

The man chuckled while his son slipped past him and into the house, letting out a teasing, "Girlfriend, huh? I guess that explains the..." and circling around his own face to imply something. Billy, who didn't even spare a look back, hadn't caught on upon making his way to the dining room.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

All five of his siblings, his parents, and welcomed guest Anthea, watched as Billy shoveled spaghetti into his mouth at an ungodly rate. Which one would think would be impossible for a literal demi-god, but here they were. Alas, it's not like anyone could really blame him. It was his favorite meal, it was Rosa's cooking, and he was sick of the vegetarian meals Darla had been making for the past four days.

Although, it wasn't the main reason he was being gawked at in the moment, Freddy and Eugene the ones to be stifling laughter while the rest wanted nothing more than to tell him. It was clear he didn't realize, it was just a matter of how to approach the subject...

"Um... Billy?" Mary began gently, the teen not even looking up from his plate as he continued to eat, unknowing of his entire family's attention on him.

"You have... a little something, like, all over... your face right now." She made the same circling motion around her face as Victor had prior, not that he saw that one either. Just missing it, actually, finally looking up to notice all of the odd stares towards his seat at the table.

"Oh." Was his only reaction, setting down his fork to wipe his cheek. It gained more unseen giggles for some reason, but his only goal was to get back to eating, so natrually, he brushed then off with a curt, "Thank you, Mary." and continued is stuffing.

"No, you still..." Anne spoke aloud this time, her words trailing off when she realized she hadn't caught him in time once he started eating again.

"You just made it worse, dude." Mary giggled, having to lean her head down on the back of her hand to hide it.

"Oh." Billy spoke again, brows furrowed in the slightest while Rosa had set down her own fork. She motioned for her son to come closer, picking up a napkin and slightly dipping it into her water.

"C'mere honey, let me just wipe them for you..."

"Mom- No, stop it, I got it." He reassured, slightly embarrassed by her offer while going for his own napkin. "I'm not five."

And with one quick motion of his napkin up and down his face, it was clear to everyone but him he had simply made the situation much worse.

"There."

It drew in more laughter, this time from everyone, as he stared around the table in confusion that slowly turned into annoyance. It was like being on the outside of an inside joke, and if there was one thing he was tired of feeling in his life, it was being left out.

"What...?" He questioned, Darla the first and very eager to ask simply out of her own and pure curiosity.

"How come you got kissies all over your face?"

. . .

"...Huh...?"

Everyone burst into laughter, Billy's questioning gaze soon shifting into one of realization as he thought back. Back to moments that felt forever ago, where you had placed kisses across his face. Kisses with your lips coated in dark red lipstick...

"Oh... my god, (Y/N), why... just, why...?" He cursed your name lightly, now taking up Rosa on that offer to clean his face. Not that it mattered, his face still as dark red as the kisses that had now been wiped clean out of sheer embarrassment.

"So that's her name?" Victor pointed out, his voice and chest swelling with pride for his son's unadmitted achievement in life. Getting himself a girlfriend. "(Y/N)..."

He moved his hand across in the air as though your name were the title to an upcoming movie or a fresh take. A new and interesting topic, something this family thrived in, especially during dinnertime. And Billy, natrually, was not at all prepared and internally scolded himself for not being careful enough with his words.

It only grew more chaotic from there, Mary, Rosa, Darla, and Anthea letting out squeals loud enough to rival the TV playing in the living room as background noise.

"Billy, you never told me you had a girlfriend! Since, uh, when...?"

"Why would I ever tell you...?" Billy countered Mary's words, Darla already voicing her fantasies on merging her into the already big family.

"Her name is so pretty! Is she pretty, too? I bet she's gorgeous, like a princess! D'you think she'll play mermaid princesses with me?!"

"She must be...!" Rosa agreed swiftly with a laugh, motioning towards Billy fondly with her hand. "You saw all of the little besos she gave him. She probably thinks the same of you, Billy... My sweet boy with his own girlfriend, aww...!"

She just couldn't take it, placing a hand over her heart out of pure happiness for her son who had seemed to have finally found his love. His first one, at that. Which yes, he did, but-

"Mom, stop it, it's not that big of a deal, please..."

Not what he was thinking when you first asked him out, but whatever.

"Oh my gosh," Anne gushed, already jumping in with her own opinion to give. "With a name like that, she's bound to be amazing."

"I-" She kept going, Billy hardly even able to inhale as his siblings gushed on.

"Does she go to Fawcett, too? How come we've never seen her around?"

Freddy's scoff of a laugh caused the attention to leave Billy for a split second and move onto him, the curly-haired boy casually taking a bite from his own plate while he spoke.

"Pro'lly 'cause she ain't real..."

He jumped slightly when Anne quickly landed a slap to his arm, his mouth full and chewing as he laughed and went, "What?" Before it was his mother's turn to scold him verbally.

"Be nice, Freddy, this is probably a big deal for your brother."

Billy rolled his eyes. Not at Freddy (even though he debated kicking him under the table for his implication). But at the sudden attention he was receiving on the topic of his accidentally mentioned girlfriend. He hadn't even known whether or not if he was ready to tell them about you, let alone introducing you to them. Plus, he didn't trust himself enough not to slip up about the fact that you were Valkyrie. Or Wonder Woman's daughter. Or... both facts.

But on the other hand, he wouldn't tolerate any slander of your name, nor would he allow either of you two to become the target of any teasing from the family, so...

"Well, first of all, yes... she is real, Freddy..." Billy glared in his direction, the room going quiet at his words while he continued to clear the case of your existence up.

"And second, Darla, she is... beyond gorgeous. Like, angel levels of pretty, it's unbelievable."

"Wow!!" Darla squealed in excitement as Freddy gave a small tilt of his head to the side.

"Unbelievable, wow, you don't say?"

But nobody heard, too focused on the description of your person and enthralled with just the way he did it. Full of passion and care they hadn't even realized the boy possessed for anyone outside of the family, let alone a girl. A love that couldn't be replicated or replaced, something that'd make you glow red if you had been in the room to hear it.

"She's got this amazing hair that frames her face perfectly, and she wears glasses, but when she takes them off, you can see how, like... just wow her eyes are. They remind me of a type of jewel or something because they literally sparkle when she's happy or are firey with determination when she's- uh... doing something that requires a lot of focus.

Her entire face is just something I can't stop looking at, and gosh, that girl is... her body is-..." He coughed. "She's a little bit taller than me, so... yeah..."

"And you just... never thought to maybe bring her over? Y'know, just 'cause..." Freddy shrugged, holding back his complacent tone as Eugene bobbed his head in agreement.

"And, let me guess, she texts you all the time, and you go on walks around the park together every Saturday."

At their back-to-back quips and hushed laughter, Billy shot them a scowl as Rosa began to nod in oblivious agreement.

"Yeah, sweetie, why don't you invite her over for dinner tomorrow night? It's a Friday, after all. You can tell her we'd love to meet her."

With a chorus of agreements settling consternation into his chest, he blurted out a slew of excuses as he waved his hand up and down as if to brush the idea of you coming over away.

"Nah, no, that's... she- We already have a lot of people here, she might get... overwhelmed! Yeah. And, y'know, it's just not a good idea."

"And whyyy not?" Freddy pushed, leaning against the open palm of his hand while feigning an affable smile and forcing his brows to jump up and down in silent suggestion.

"She's busy." Was his simple statement, Eugene following up on his claim in an instant.

"Busy doinggg...?"

"...Work." He filled in the blank awkwardly, practically squirming in his seat at the expecting silence. He conjured up some of your favorite hobbies in his mind, anything as far away from superhero work as possible, so he could word it as some type of job that you "have".

"She works as a (Favorite/Hobby), and she's probably gonna' be, like, swamped with stuff to do, so... tomorrow wouldn't work."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Rosa praised, impressed by your skills and interests. "We'll certainly have to make time for her over the weekend or next week then!"

"She can't. She'll be busy all week, too."

"Natrually..." Freddy poked with a theatrical eye roll and a closed-mouth grin. "She must be on the 'twenty-four-seven, forever' shift, which I'd expect from a girl with an imaginary sense of work-life balance."

"Harhar, you're hilarious." Billy mocked, now going through with his actions to send his brother a kick to the shin under the table.

"She's actually going to-...on...uh..." He had to stop himself. What would've been a smug brag about you visiting Paradise Island, becoming a realization that would just throw you under the bus. Plus, it's a lot more unbelievable than everything he had said so far. As much joy as it would bring Billy to rub a trip to Themyscria in his face, he'd just have to make Freddy jealous another time. Besides, he didn't necessarily have to lie. He could just not tell them the full story.

It wasn't a lie if he never told them otherwise to begin with.

"She's going on vacation. With her mother. So, she's gonna' be gone for the rest of the week."

"Oh, really?" Mary piped up out of genuine curiosity, having always wanted to travel herself. "Where's she going?"

. . .

"Out of the country."

"Oh."

"How convenient!" Eugene chirped while he slid his phone towards Billy, as if he were telling him to go ahead and prove it. "Why not just FaceTime her, then? You know, just check in like any good boyfriend should? Maybe even shoot her a little text."

"I can't do that!" Billy exclaimed. "I wouldn't wanna bother her or be rude or anything. She's- it's a... mother-daughter bonding thing, it's different. Hard to explain."

In a sense, that could also be construed as truth, considering you'd be competing in an Olympic event, racing and fighting against others and the elements to both claim and prove your status. Something that would ideally make your mother very proud. Billy himself didn't even one-hundred percent understand the whole event, so it was right for one to assume that he probably would have trouble explaining it to his family. Should he ever have to, of course.

Good thing he won't.

A silence loomed over the family as Billy loosely twirled his spaghetti around his fork. He'd almost be grateful for it if it weren't so uncomfortable. He was sick of being pressed about you, not that he wouldn't take any chance to show you off otherwise. And if it wasn't that, he was annoyed at the way Freddy and Eugene didn't seem to even believe you were real, Mary and Anne able to sense this as they gave each other an unsure look.

"Uhm, well..." The goddess coughed, playing with the hem of her (Freddy's) sweater. "How'd you two meet?"

Finally! Something Billy knew the proper answer to!

"Oh, we were-"

Ohp-. Wait, nevermind. No he didn't.

You two were saving the world when you first met, battling a beast that wasn't even real because it turned out to be a test? He didn't know the details of that dilemma very well, either. All he could remember fondly was the way you looked at him when he accidentally revealed himself. Warm and promising, full of care and will-power that he'd been drawn to ever since.

The same look you gave him when you asked him out on that very first date, where he-

Oh, great idea...!

"At an ice cream shop. I was at an ice cream shop, and that's where I met her. She had never had any before, and so I suggested she start off with something simple, like vanilla. I bought some for her and we spent the rest of the afternoon together. We've been going out ever since."

"Awww~!" Rosa and Anne chorused, Freddy already calling nonsense at the story with a few chuckles hidden behind his hand.

"Wait, so... lemme' get this straight..."

"Frederick..." Anne warned with his full name. He ignored (and he'd be apologizing for it later, no doubt).

"You mean to tell me, this girl has never had ice cream before? Like, in her seventeen-to-eighteen years of life, she had never had one singular scoop of frozen milk and sugar?"

"Dude-"

"-Nevermind the fact that you just, outta' nowhere, decided to rizz up some random girl you didn't even know inside of an ice cream parlor."

"Yeah, Freddy, I did." Billy snapped, waving his hand around in the air for a moment as if he were magically conjuring up the false memory. "And apparently, it all worked out because we've been dating for months, now. Thank you very much."

Jaws dropped at this, having not expected such a bond. It was one thing for Billy to have started a fresh relationship. Maybe for him to even be a little secretive about it until things had proven to be smooth sailing for a long time. But months? Either he forgot to brag about it, or she most definitely didn't exist.

Freddy and Anne almost immediately turned to give each other a knowing look, as if they were reading each other's minds before speaking in unison.

"Is this like a Canadian girlfriend thing...?"

Billy huffed through his nose, knowing better than to let insults fly at the dinnertable with his parents present. But regardless of that fact, Mary was the first to tell he had grown fed up, nudging Victor on the arm while she murmured.

"Here we go again..."

"She's real, okay? (Y/N) is very much real, and you two are just jealous because it took an entire dragon rising from the depths of hell for you two to get together."

And off he went, storming away, leaving Freddy and Anthea's mouths agape in shock while Pedro and Eugene practically sobbed from their loud chortles.

"Do you think he'll come back this time if I call him?" Victor cheesed, Mary shaking her hide from side to side at his reference from the last time Freddy had pissed Billy off at the table. Speaking of which...

"Alright, yeah, whatever...!" He called as if the older boy was still listening. "At least we can all actually see my girlfriend...!"

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Is it her?"

Though Freddy's index finger was very obviously directed towards a young girl in the hallway, his brown eyes remained glued to Billy's green ones, waiting for them to change in recognition. They didn't, remaining as stoic as they had when Freddy first began this little game of "Point Out The Person That Looks Closest To Billy's Imaginary Girlfriend."

"No."

"Okay, then it's her." Freddy suggested next, his arm practically flying across Anthea's person just to point his finger at the girl they waltzed past. Billy swore that if the poor thing wasn't in between them, he'd tackle Freddy to he ground, in the middle of the hallway and all. So, maybe it was a good thing Anthea was there.

Billy's eyes drifted to the next victim, a short girl with scene hair and huge platform demonias that stared them down in confusion. He quickly shook his head.

"No, it's not her. (Y/N) is way taller than her. Genetically, without platforms."

"Fine, what about her?" Freddy waved lazily in the direction of someone ahead. "She looks like your type."

Billy huffed.

"That's literally just a guy with long hair."

Freddy's face twisted in disbelief, shaking his head as though he knew better.

"No it isn-"

"It is." Anthea cut in before her boyfriend could finish, turning him towards the person who had finally spun away from his friend and proving to Freddy that he was, in fact, just some dude with a gorgeous head of hair.

"Oh. Mm-."

"Can you just-?" Billy started a desperate plea that went ignored as Freddy smiled in satisfactory, spotting the next girl. Who, yes, was actually a girl this time.

"What about her? Look, she's even how you described, glasses, tall, (Your/Feature), the whole shaza-...shebang..."

Billy hardly wanted to entertain this any longer, but upon looking her direction, noticed swiftly how oddly her features did line up to yours. And yet...

"No, that's not her. I told you already last night, (Y/N) doesn't go here. She's... homeschooled." He excused, quite proud of how fast he had come up with it. Plus, it was kind of true, Diana the one who had taught you most of your studies. And when not her, a private tutor Bruce had graciously spent his money on for you to have.

Yes, the Bruce Wayne.

"Oh, of course. What an awesome coincidence."

"Freddy, stop it." Anthea nudged him, not allowing the teasing to continue any further upon seeing the scowl from last night returning onto Billy's face.

"I'm sure he's probably telling the truth, I mean, what reason would he have to lie? Besides, she's probably just...shy. Maybe she's shy."

And though the girl was satisfied with her answer, Billy could only laugh giddily to himself while remembering the time you had allowed him to watch a very special training session you had in the past.

"Yeah, if you call accidentally bodyslamming Superman "shy," then sure. Most timid girl I know..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing...!" He brushed his remark away when he had almost been caught, quick to change the subject before he could be questioned any further.

"Guys, look, just drop it, alright? I know you don't believe me, and you know what? I don't care anymore. I'm happy, outside of the fact that you're really working my nerves, and that's all that matters. I'll see you two later..."

"Billy, hang on...!" Anthea called, having not meant to cause a fuss on the matter. She couldn't help it. She was entirely too good-natured. But, there was Freddy, always there to ease her own tensions and make her laugh in the process.

"Agh, don't worry about him. He'll get over it. You know, the imaginary girlfriend thing is a common phase, cited by phenomenons all across the globe of people with the exact same conditions and symptoms. Lois Lane even wrote an article on it way-back-when she was first starting out."

"Oh, yeah?" Anthea entertained smugly, Freddy nodding fastly as he droned on.

"Totally. It was a very interesting article, but it made total sense. I mean, even I went through a phase just like it, and I turned out fine."

"Oh?"

And then it clicked, Freddy's face growing a deep shade of red under his freckles.

"Yea- Only when I was like, super tiny-young, I mean. Like, it was- I..."

His rambles stopped when he noticed Anthea's raised brow, almost laughing to himself while they paused in front of her classroom door.

"Just...forget I told you that. I love you my very much, my real and amazing girlfriend. I swear, my pillo- I mean, Jennifer was just a quick fling and nothing compared to the goddess that stands in front of me...?"

Through her giggles, she nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek and taking her leave.

"That's what I like to hear~. Now, don't go off 'saying the word' while I'm gone, 'kay?"

Freddy nodded at her parting heed, knowing it was a reference to the way he'd ditch class to go off and do hero work without warning.

"I won't, I won't...!"

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"SHAZAM!"

"Alright, what's the plan?!" Freddy shouted as they all gawked up towards the threat, Billy shrugging casually while he shook his head as though he were literally wracking his brain for a proposal.

"Uhh...Ahhh... No idea! I think we should just wing it, to be honest...!"

"That's a terrible plan!!" Mary and Anthea shouted in unison, the shorter girl using magic to cloak over herself and change into her armored attire.

"Superman's weakness is Kryptonite, right?!" Mary swiftly informed the group, Freddy nodding in confirmation. "Good! If Bizzaro is anything like him, it should be the same! If we can distract him long enough for one of us to catch him from behind, we'll have a chance at detaining him! Then, we can send him back to his world...!"

"Yes, awesome, Wisdom of Salamander...!" Billy praised, leaving all of his siblings to groan.

"Solomon...!"

"Whatever...!!"

And with that, they put her plan into action, Freddy and Pedro flying up high until they were facing the Kryptonian clone with complacent, challening grins.

"Hey, Bizarro-Man...!!" Freddy called, nudging Pedro. "Since you're a copy of Superman, is it really true you have super strength like him?! Betcha' we could take you in a fight...!"

The villain merely scoweld, sending a sudden breath of flame towards them. Freddy dodged, Pedro just missing his chance to do the same before being his with the blast and being sent flying into the nearest billboard.

"...Fire breathing?! You can breathe fire?!" Freddy yelled in a panic, unable to add on how that was very much unlike Superman's notable ability of freeze breath before realizing Bizarro was barreling straight for him. Freddy took off, both of their super speed rivaling each other as he crated a path for his siblings to follow.

"Where are we gonna' get Kryptonite?" Darla gasped, all of their heads turning as the two flew by. Mary pondered the situation deeply, having never even seen the green emerald herself, let alone come into contact with it. She figured it was a lost artifact, a gem only the most powerful would have. Except for Superman, all things considered. So maybe more like magical powerful people.

People like...

"The Wizard!" She shouted. "He's the most powerful person we know, having kept all of his powerful objects in his lair, right?"

"Yeah," Billy agreed. "But what does he have to do with anything? He's not the-"

"I know, but the lair is ours, now!" She explained further. "Which means so are all of the things in it!"

"But-!"

"Anthea, Darla...! Go help Freddy and make sure to keep Bizarro busy! Eugene, go help Pedro, make sure he's alright!"

"On it!" Anthea gave Mary a nod, Darla having already dashed away as Eugene made his way towards his brother.

"Billy, you come with me, hurry...!" Mary instructed, grabbing his wrist and practically dragging him along as he followed in confusion.

"Mary, where are we going?! This is really not a good time to ditch them, we-!"

"We're not ditching them." She insisted, opening a random shop door with the intention for it to open a portal to the Rock of Eternity. And luckily, it did just that as she went on with a rapid explanation for her actions.

"You know how Eugene has been mapping the place out? Well, I've been helping him. Mainly making sure he doesn't get lost, but also because I've been studying it all. Making sure we know that everything that's in there is actually safe."

They wandered past the main part of the lair, the area where everything had been decorated freely and most obviously lived in, to the more labrynth-like parts that always confused Billy and Darla whenever they tried their own hands at exploring. But this time, Mary was there to lead him, having a clear sense of direction seeking out whatever it was she was searching for.

"We came across this space or...cave or something. Like a mine, y'know? And at first, I wasn't sure what was in it. Neither of us were, I mean, I couldn't find any of them in any books or articles. It's like... all the gems that are in that cave aren't from here or something. From another world."

"Mary, this really is some interesting stuff, but I don't get wh- woah..."

Billy's rambles were cut short, the two siblings having stopped in front of the very cavern Mary described. The entrance was glowing due to all of the luminous crystals buried off inside of it. Hell, the cave itself seemed neverending, branching off into different routes, holes, and other tunnel systems that were surely easy to get lost in.

Luckily, they didn't need to go too far in, Mary stopping Billy from doing so with the tug of his arm back closer to her person. She was slightly bent over, hovering above a large chunk of what he assumed to be an emerald. Practically matching the color of his eyes, they both sparkled at one another while Mary began to confess her opinions.

"I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before, but if my assumption is correct...if these are otherworldly artifacts...then I don't know what else this could be, other than-"

"Kryptonite..." Billy finished, turning towards his sister with an ecstatic grin. "Mary, you genius, you! Here, c'mon, help me get this stuff out of the wall...!"

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Where the hell is Mary with that Kryptonite...?!" Freddy whined in an almost sing-song tone, blasting a continuous bolt of lightning directly at Bizzaro. It had no effect, merely slowing him down by a second until Darla, Pedro, and Eugene all joined in. And though it didn't hurt him, he was stuck in his tracks, trying his hardest to deflect it.

"She said she had an idea...!" Darla grunted. "But I dunno' what! She just took Billy back to the lair and- AAH!!"

Bizzaro had used all of his strength to blast the lightning back, sending the group soaring backward at the impact. As he began to stalk closer towards Darla, Eugene was quick to jump in the way with a protective, "No!" leaving his lips.

A bolt of lighting shot from his hands, Bizzaro quick to blast it with-

"Freeze...eyes...?"

The beam of icy blue turned Eugene's lighting into a solid rod of frozen air, the large block dropping to the ground and shattering beneath their feet. Freddy had... never seen a power like that before. It confused him, all of them, long enough to be a stall as Bizzaro quickly let off another beam towards them.

"Watch out...!!" Anthea warned, quickly hopping in the way with her hands out. Her palms glowed, swirling with golden power until the buildings and structures around them began to move and shift rapidly. Power of Axis, always a helpful tool in changing perspective, but not in changing the course of a blow to its intended target. Given the girl had learned this fact the hard way in the past, she was quick to turn to them in haste.

"We have to move, hurry! If we don't, we'll still get hit!"

Almost as if on cue, they watched the blast of ice cold vision barrelled towards them through a park, just barely missing all of the different play structures as the group swiftly managed to fly off in different directions. Freddy was sure to take Anthea in his arms, watching as the beam instead left a jungle gym frozen solid into a dome.

"Guys...!!"

Looking towards the voice, they were happy to spot Mary and Billy flying back towards them with a glowing, green gem in hand.

"No way-No way-No way!!" Freddy gushed as they approached, showing it off with pride. "You two actually found Kryptonite?! Do you know how rare this is?! Like, it's literally thought to be a myth, like, it's more believable than your imaginary girlfriend...!"

"Oh my god..." Billy groaned as the rest giggled. "C'mon, man, it's been like a week!"

"I'm being totally serious!" Freddy held his hands up as though he were giving surrender while Billy shook his head in dismay.

Mary sighed, floating in between the two boys with the gem in hand.

"Not the time, guys. Look, if we can keep Bizzaro distracted for just a little longer, this should definitely do the trick. We got this."

She held out her fist towards Billy, sending him a sure smile.

"You ready?"

"Yeah," he nodded, giving a smirk of his own before scanning the land beneath for their foe. He bumped her fist back. "Let's kick this dude's ass."

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Dude, we're getting our asses kicked...!!" Eugene grunted, struggling to pick himself up from the ground as he clutched his side.

"It's like he's more powerful than before!" Anthea alluded, wiping the blood from her lip as she helped Mary from the ground and onto her shoulder.

"I don't... understand..." She coughed, grateful for the support as she looked up to her two brothers, trying their best to subdue Bizzaro hand-to-hand.

"The Kryptonite should be working. It should...be making him weaker."

"Maybe it isn't what you thought it was..." Darla whimpered, sending her sister a look of vanquish.

Billy watched as Bizzaro landed a blow onto Freddy's chest, the man in blue being sent flying back into the earth with a loud yelp and a crash. He wanted to call for him but reminded himself to focus on the battle at hand if there would be any chance of defeat. Even if he was scared, as much as he didn't want to admit it.

You'd be scared, too, if some weird copy of Superman was hurdling towards you, Kryptonite wedged into his bleeding shoulder (blue blood, which was quite jarring when they first stabbed him) with some obtuse goal to destroy the world he deemed "lesser" than his own.

Because of this, he'd frozen up, unsure of how to counter his speed let alone his attack. Instead, he took it like a champ, as he had many punches even before he was a superhero, and went hurdling towards the ground just as Freddy had.

"Oh. Hey, man..." Freddy groaned when his brother appeared next to him.

"Having fun, yet?" Billy haphazardly joked, referring to Freddy's "love" and "enjoyment" for his "superhero duties."

"Oh, yeah, loads." He nodded unconvincingly, wiping the blood from his nose with his arm. "I love the smell of iron in the morning. And, y'know- the sounds of terror and destruction really just...pull it all together."

They helped each other up, checking themselves for any fatal injuries. And, when they found none, regrouped with the rest of their family in doldrums as they watched Bizzaro inflict his reign of dismantling on the city.

"What're we gonna do?" Darla asked, looking to her brother in worry.

"Your realm is not capable of destroying power such as this. How are we to do the same?"

Anthea's words had been directed towards Freddy but left Billy's mind swirling instead. Was she right? She had to be...

If the Champions of Magic and an entire goddess couldn't decide the fate of their opponents on the battlefield, who could?

. . .

Their heads whipped up at the sound of a furious battle cry, a shimmer of gold and the quick blur of your (H/C) locks barreling towards the enemy. Your sword drawn and in position to leave its target slain as you attacked from above, a ferocious look on your face for none other than the mockery of hope and justice below you.

When your weapon made contact, you knew better than to think it'd actually cut through Bizarro. But, it did send him hurdling towards the dirt as he had Freddy and Billy moments earlier. You had cut a large chunk of the green Kryptonite from his shoulder, dimming him back to his normal level of powerful abilities. And yet, you knew this wasn't the end, much more work to be done as you announced your threat.

"My mother and her colleagues have defeated you once, and you dare to return to this world and cause its people pain and anguish once again?!" Your booming scolds might've reminded someone that of a parent, pointing your sword below you at Bizzaro's stunned figure.

"How dare you have such audacity?! Let it be known I will not allow you to do so, and you will now fall by my hand, even if it kills me!"

"Valkyrie?!" - "(Y/N)?!"

Both of your aliases spoken into the air at the same time, yet it was Billy who wanted to slap himself after being the only one to have said your real name rather than your well-known, hero one. He even tried to ignore the looks his siblings (and Anthea) gave him, pure shock just oozing from their figures.

"That's (Y/N)?!" Mary shouted in bafflement.

"She's real?!" Freddy's tone of incredulity made Billy's eyes roll for a split second.

Not alloted any time for anyone to question or answer further, your head whipped back, you're firey (E/C) eyes glaring deeply into Billy's.

"You...!" You bellowed menacingly, and suddenly, he was a lot less excited to see you.

"Wha-?! Are you-? Oh...my gosh, are you mad at me right now?..."

From a bystander's point of view, it definitely looked a little silly, your shorter and younger appearing figure stomping towards this grown adult man, who was fearfully stumbling back away from you as you approached with anger. His face was dowsed in fear, and yours?

Where to begin...

"I leave you on your lonesome to protect your people for a week! A week! And this is what I'm fated to return to?! Do you even know what it is you've done allowing him to remain in such close proximity to green Kryptonite?!"

"I- Uh...Well, technically, it wasn't even really my idea, 'cause-"

"William."

You seethed his full name, cutting off his excuses, which consisted of throwing his older sister under the bus. She thanked whatever God above for that one, not even having been in your presence for a mere two minutes, and was terrified of your wrath.

The groan of Bizzaro rising from the dirt stopped the rest of your reprimands, leaving you the sigh in simple vexation before pointing a finger at your incautious lover.

"I will deal with you later."

A silence passed over as you leaped into action, everyone still left a bit shaken at everything you had to offer so far. Including Billy, even though all he could muster up was a quiet, "I told you she was real..."

"That's your girlfriend?!" Freddy nearly exploded. "Valkyrie is your girlfriend?! Dude, I-...! You-! You do know she's Wonder Woman's whole ass daughter, right?! How the fu-?!"

"-Clearly...!" Mary interrupted loudly before he could heavily cuss around Darla. "He's got a type!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever!" Billy exclaimed, already beginning to hover above the ground in hopes to aid his girlfriend. "It doesn't matter right now. We have to help her, c'mon!"

It was once Anthea and the Champions joined the fight, Bizzaro was left with a slim chance of winning. Especially without the enhancement of that same green jewel that always seemed to leave Superman weakened and withered. Mary was still lost on such fact, and Freddy was searching his mind for any possibility of how that could be so.

"I don't get it!" He finally wailed, exhausted from the fight and from using his brain overtime. "He's just like Superman, almost...! If he's such a copy, then how come none of our plans are working?!"

"That is because he is not a copy." You stated plainly, no evidence of normalcy left in your voice. What was left was that of a warrior. A warrior thick in the ways of battle and strategy, knowing your enemy much more than your allies seemed to.

"He is a mirror. Bizzaro, El-Kal, is from a twisted world he created. Everything there, including himself, is some backwards nuisance of what we're so used to here on our planet."

"Hold...Hold'up..." Eugene paused, unable to believe the information being told to him. "This guy's is from another planet just like ours?"

"Yes and no. His world resembles ours, but it is not. It is cubed shaped and docile, with a blue sun that amplifies El-Kal's strength. Much like how this earth's yellow sun aids Superman's. Kal-El."

"Ohh, ha, that's funny, I get it." Freddy chuckled. "It's all backwards over there, so Kal-El is...yeah, that's...that's bad..."

"Well," you smirked, the first and only hint of positivity you had exuded from your person since you had arrived. "Not all bad."

From the latchel which normally held your Lasso of Truth (well, a more miniature one, technically, because your mother wouldn't dare give up her own), was a medium-sized vile of blue liquid clipped in its place. You unhooked it carefully, showing it off to the group as your smirk stretched into a satisfied grin.

"What are the great and powerful without their weaknesses? Blue Kryptonite, liquefied. When I first arrived home this morning, I had seen the news. Trouble here in the heart of Philidelphia, and I immediately recognized that... that..."

"That dumbass question mark on his chest?" Billy spoke up for you. In much more vulgar terms, sure, but you couldn't help but agree with an admitting nod.

"Yes, precisely. I knew what he was capable of, and I knew that you all more than likely didn't have the proper contingencies to stop him. So, I asked Damian for a favor..."

Freddy leaned in towards Billy, putting a hand up as if it'd conceal his bad whispers.

"Who's Damian?"

"Don't worry about it." Billy ignored, slapping him away lightly as you finished.

"...With this, we will surely defeat Bizarro. I can detain him, and I will convince him to leave this world in peace once again."

You opened the vile, neon blue smoke immediately pouring from it like dry-freeze until you began to dump some of the contents onto the blade of your sword.

"All I need for you all to do, is keep him busy. Until then, hold out your hands..."

They all did as told, watching as the rest of the liquid went dumped into their palms while you explained such actions.

"Should any of you come into physical combat with him, your touch will now weaken him, leaving him vulnerable. Easier to take down."

"And what about you?" Billy asked, his tone laced with worry for your well-being. Your gaze softened as you moved closer, hardly used to having to look up at him. But, you could admit, you found it a nice change of pace as you reached up to hold his face in your palm.

"I will do what I have to. Don't worry about me, okay?"

"That's literally impossible, but okay."

You chuckled.

"Fair. Your only job is to make sure all goes well. And... don't make anymore 'dumbass' decisions. You keep that green Kryptonite away from Bizzaro."

Billy nodded, laughing at your use of his improper language before floating upwards to complete his task.

"Alright, guys...!" He called down, his siblings following in suite while you motioned Anthea to remain with you at ground levels.

"Let's kick this guy's ass. For real this time, though."

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Who is that?!" Rosa shouted as she stared at her TV in horror, scared for her superhero children tackling the evil Superman imposter with some random girl who had just shown up, as any mother would be.

Almost as soon as Victor moved to grab the keys for his van, the front door opened and in waltzed their children. Like ducks in a row, Mary, Pedro, Eugene, Darla, Freddy, Anthea, Billy, and-... ??

"Hi, mom!"

"Hey, Ma!"

"Hi, Mommy!"

"'Sup, Dad?"

The choruses of their greetings eased their nerves and tensions, but the sight of a new girl with glasses and her hair in a fancy, braided updo took them by surprise. She remained close to Billy, seemingly glued to his arm as he quietly attempted to convince her of the kind nature of his parents.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose if it's trouble..."

"(Y/N), don't worry. They've been wanting to meet you for forever, you have nothing to worry about. They'll love you."

You looked towards him in surprise, already growing more anxious by the second.

"You told them about me?"

"Only the important stuff." He winked jokingly.

"Ah! My babies...!" Rosa shouted her greeting, more grateful than ever that they had returned safely, running over and planting a kiss on each one of their foreheads and pulling Darla and Anthea into bone crushing hugs.

So...! Uh," Victor started, already interested in your figure remaining quiet by the door. "Who's the new girl?"

Billy smiled this time, neither embarrassed nor annoyed by the inquiry of you while he proudly pulled your body into his by the waist.

"She's-"

"She's the coolest, ever!" Freddy announced, Darla practically jumping up and down as she agreed.

"Uh huh! And she's so pretty, just like I knew she'd be!"

"She literally sent that supervillain back to where he came from...! Like, without even breaking a sweat!" Eugene praised, leaving your cheeks to grow red with bashfulness.

"I have to admit, I think she'd be a good influence on Billy. She's super smart."

"And a good fighter."

Mary and Anthea were happy to admit such facts, Pedro the last to give a reserved shrug and a polite smile.

"I like her. She's dope."

Rosa and Victor were left to stand awkwardly, unsure of what to make of all the high-end words being spewed about like lightning while you struggled to fight back your grin.

"As I was saying...!" Billy exclaimed, giving his siblings the "Shut Up So I Can Talk" look. "This is (Y/N). My girlfriend."

Victor was the first to happily greet you, explaining how he'd heard so much about you, all good things (as you could clearly see), and that he was happy to have finally met you. Rosa, on the other hand, was leaned back with her eyes glued to the news on the TV. They would flicker back to you every now and again, making your heart beat faster in nerves until...

"Crazy question, I know... but...that doesn't happen to be you on the news... yeah?"

Immediately, you looked towards Billy, who could only shrug and scratch the back of his neck.

"The important stuff, huh?"

"Sorry...I tried..."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before giving a polite nod and announcing your introduction one final time...

"Yes, that... would be me. My name is (Y/N), otherwise known as Valkyrie. Daughter of Wonder Woman, Granddaughter of Zeus, and last born... of Themyscria."

Don't make me steal this idea and write a full-fledged book, Anon, I'll do it🤨 (I probably won't cuz writer's block likes to eat me alive). But seriously, I really hope you like this because again, I adore this, and I defo want more of your ideas/scenarios🥰🫶🏽.

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

long kiss good bye

pairing: Optional BTS Bias x Female Reader word count: 1375 warnings: angst, first and last kiss AO3 A/N: i was vague when it came to the whole military service stuff because i don't have a big understanding of it, and google can only help so much, so if i made any mistake please forgive me i'm very sleep-deprived (/▽＼) the title comes from the song with the same name by HALCALI Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

You knew this day would come eventually, it had been obvious from the moment the boys expressed that they wanted to serve their country and that they would answer the call if called for.

The back and forth of the government on whether or not they should go was just delaying the inevitable. And in the end, the boys decided for themselves that they would do their military service.

On one hand, you were happy that they had decided instead of being influenced. On the other hand, you couldn't help the depressing thoughts your mind created, all because of him.

This wasn't like when they were on tour, where they would be away for a few months at best but would try to keep in touch with you to the best of their abilities. But now it was a completely different story.

They - he - wouldn't be away for months but for years, almost three to be precise, and you didn't even know if they - he - would be allowed to be in contact.

And maybe, one of the reasons why it hurt so much, was because of you.

You've had the biggest crush on him ever since you met him, a feeling that, if going by the teasing the both of you suffered at hands of the boys, was incredibly likely to be mutual. But even then, neither of you ever took the leap to become more than friends.

The phrase 'better safe than sorry' described you perfectly.

Many were the times where you wanted to take the jump and just press your lips against his, to just take the plunge and finally confess to him.

But there was always something holding you back, something that made you change your mind, every time you tried you'd lose your courage.

So you kept pushing it, more and more, further along into the future. And now it felt like it was too late, he was leaving for years and so much could change during that time.

You couldn't help but wonder if the hurt you felt inside would be much more painful if the two of you were together.

You checked the time on your phone, seeing that it was almost time to say goodbye to the boys, so you decided to get up from lying on self-pity on your couch.

You took a shower and got dressed, choosing to go with a simple hoodie and leggings, spending extra time to hide the bags under your eyes, before leaving your apartment and going towards the BTS dorm rooms, the entire time thinking of the various ways you could've changed the course of history, but only slightly.

Once you got there you found that the car that was going to drive them to the Military Manpower Administration had already arrived, telling you that you had barely made it in time to say goodbye.

As you got closer to the dorm the boys were coming out of the door, dressed to the nines and suitcases in hand, which they settled on the ground once they saw you.

The first one out of the house was also the one that took you in his arms. "Thought you weren't going to come," he squeezed you tighter, barely giving you any room to breathe.

Instead of your usually complaining, however, you simply responded in kind. "Of course I was going to come," today was your last day with them for a long while, and the last thing you wanted was to pretend to throw a temper tantrum. "If I missed, I'd march right there and drag you out just to say goodbye."

He chuckled. "Pretty sure that wouldn't be allowed."

You gave a peck on each side of his cheek before both of you let each other go.

One by one each of the boys received the same treatment - a hug, small banter, and a peck on each cheek - each time you let go of them a part of you felt emptier.

Finally, you got to him, the closer you got to him the louder your heartbeat got.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist, pulling you closer to him until there was barely any space between you.

Both of you laid your head on each other's shoulders, neither saying a word, for the silence spoke louder. You stood like this for quite some time, neither noticing the other six walking away so that you could have this private moment.

"I'm going to miss," he said, his nails digging into your hips.

"Me too," despite being on the verge of tears, you were trying your best not to cry, even if your voice betrayed you.

He pulled his head away from you, and you did the same, both of you staring into each other's eyes. He dipped you backward, only a smidgen, his face slowly getting closer to yours.

Unfortunately, like every other time, your fears got the better of you.

Your hand slid down from his neck to his chest, putting a stop to everything. "It's not a good idea."

He sighed, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead against yours. "Why not?"

The sadness in his voice made it harder for you to control your tears. "It will only hurt more."

Both of you stood in silence for a couple of seconds before you felt his lips pecking your forehead, his hands pulling away from you and you do the same, the pain in your heart feeling suffocating.

"See you later," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

You turned to watch him leave, your nails digging into the palm of your hands.

You didn't want him to go, you wanted him to stay, to be with you. But you wouldn't dare to say what was on your mind, the decision wasn't yours to make. He had made his and you had let your fear of the unknown to make yours. But you didn't want to be like this. You didn't want to be stuck in this 'will they won't they' limbo for three more years.

The boys started entering the car, your tears streaming freely down your cheeks as your legs started moving of their own accord, the heart beating so loud and rapidly that it made you deaf to the other sounds surrounding you.

You yelled out his name, making him turn to look at you.

Once you were close enough, you took hold of his shirt and pulled him down to your level, crashing your lips together.

The shock was quick to pass him, his arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you closer to him as you wrapped yours around his neck.

The kiss was raw and full of passion, both of you pouring every ounce of emotion onto it. The type of kiss that made you feel like you were being swept off your feet and that made time stand still. The type that was exciting and filled you with love, but also sadness for what was to come.

This would be your first and last kiss for years to come, and you wished that it would last forever.

When you separated for breath he leaned his head against yours. "What about the hurt?" he said with a smile on his lips.

"I don't care anymore," you sniffled, a smile forming on your lips as tears streamed down your face. "I just want to be with you."

His hands left your hips and moved towards your face, cradling it as his thumbs wiped away your tears as you saw tears prickling in his eyes.

"I want to be with you too," he pressed a kiss on your head. "I just can't, I have to do this," you hid your face on his chest, squeezing him tightly against you as his fingers ran through your hair. "I'll come back and then, we can talk about us without any interruptions."

You nodded as you pulled away from him, although the words weren't making you feel better, they were, at the very least, a promise of something to come.

You kissed one last time before he entered the car and drove off, leaving you behind in a teary mess.

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

HIIII!!!! I was wondering if you could do like a Jack Krauser x ex f!Reader and after reader and Jack broke up reader never saw krauser again until re4 when they were working with Leon and they end up meeting krauser there and it’s like angsty IM SORRY IF THIS DOSENT MAKE SENSE AND I LOVE YOUR WRITING IF YOU DONT WANT TO DO THIS JUST IGNORE THABK YOU-💕💕

Hi bestie, sure np! And how could I ignore such a nice request??

Warnings: mentions of death, and angst.

"What the hell's gotten into you!" you shouted at Krauser. "Faking your death, kidnapping the president's daughter?!"

You were assigned with Leon in the mission to rescue Ashley, and at some point, you met Krauser. You watched as Leon and Jack engaged in their knife fight while you were busy trying to keep Luis alive.

"Seems like they know each other," he said in a weakened voice.

"Yeah, it's-it's a long story...Leon trained under him."

"I see..but what about..." Luis began to cough, so he couldn't finish his sentence.

Hey, easy now, don't talk." You kept pressing over his wound, but the bleeding wouldn't stop.

"...what about you and him, huh?"

"I vaguely know him..." you said, but even on his deathbed, Luis knew you were lying.

"You don't look at someone you vaguely know like that..." He began to cough again, and then you watched the battle in silence.

"I'm...I'm so sorry for what he did to you..." you said, trying to comfort the dying man.

"It's ok, I kinda had it coming."

You continued to watch them fight, and from the looks of it, Leon was not going to last too long.

"You know you'll have to pull the trigger, right?" Or else Sancho will join me."

"You're right," you said with doubt in your voice, and with a shaky hand, you pointed the gun at Krauser. You shot the knife out of his hand, point when he turned to see you. He stared at you for a couple of seconds before jumping onto a platform above you.

"Playtime's over, rookie..."

Something was different about him. It's clear that he had some enhanced physical abilities, kinda like that Wesker guy, but he also seemed more gloomy. He was spiteful, angry, and merciless, traits that you didn't see in him while you two were together. He wasn't the man you knew.

After that, you, Leon, and Ashley got separated in the stupid castle.

"Who the fuck needs a castle? It's 2004. A penthouse would do just fine..." you whined as you crossed the castle's eerie halls. You've got to admit that for a bloodthirsty cult, the castle was pretty clean.

"Where are they...." There was no sign of life around you, which was weird. "Did all the bad guys go after Leon? If so, I don't wanna be in his place now."

The sound of distant footsteps caught your attention.

"Ashley?"

There was no response. You pulled out your gun and slowly approached the source of the noise.

"I hope Leon spared some bad guys for me, cuz it's getting boring here."

You kept walking into the end of the hallway, then you peeked over the edge to see if it was a monster or a human. In the distance, you saw Krauser, who was walking in the opposite direction.

"Krauser!" You shouted, but he ignored you. "Son of a bitch!" At that moment, you forgot everything about the mission and decided to chase Krauser. You were determined to confront him.

No matter how fast you were running after him, he was always very far away. You got so frustrated that you didn't realize he was playing with you. Krauser kept leading you to dead ends and making you run in circles, just to tire you, and it worked because he knew you'd chase him no matter what.

Eventually, it seemed that he entered some sort of dining hall.

"I got you now..." you said, panting. You busted through the door and aimed your gun in all directions, looking frantically for Krauser.

"What, but I-" you said, disappointed, lowering your weapon. "I-"

"Looking for someone, love." A familiar, hoarse voice echoed behind you.

"Krauser!" You turned and aimed at him, but he quickly placed the knife at your throat.

"Didn't I teach you that knives are faster?" he said with a smirk.

You dropped your gun and raised your hands. He lowered his knife too and took a few steps back.

"You look like you've got something to say." He said that after seeing that you remained silent.

"What the hell's gotten into you!" you shouted at Krauser. "Faking your death, kidnapping the president's daughter?!"

"There it is."

Oh, drop the attitude! I have the right to be angry after all you've done."

"You don't understand, you're just as naive as that rookie-"

"What is it to understand? How have you turned your back to the country you once swore to protect? How have you turned your back to me?"

"You weren't with me in that jungle...if you were, you'd understand."

"Understand what?"

"How we are just some disposable pawns to them! They don't care about us, they don't care if we live or die. If we perish, they'll just recruit more people and dispose of those who can't get the job done anymore. That's what they did with me, and that will happen with you and Leon."

"That's bullshit..."

"Oh really? Do you think you'll get some sort of prize for bringing Ashley home safe? Do you think your effort will get recognized? Not a chance."

"And what should we do, huh? Find us some cults and join them to gain some power? You're insane!"

"And you're simply too naive to see the truth, but don't worry, it will come to you someday, hopefully not too late."

"Too late for what? Jack, you always had a choice..."

"That's why you don't get it...guys like me don't have a variety of options. You, on the other hand...."

"Jack, you led me here just to tell me this?" You approached him slowly, looking for the man you once trust and loved.

"I-I don't know... I just wanted to see you."

You looked into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make a move.

"What have you done? ... You killed Luis, kidnapped Ashley...why?"

"I-I don't know what I'm doing... I needed some comfort, some sense of familiarity."

"You dumb blond..." You said before throwing yourself at him. Your lips touched his, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. The kiss was shy at first, but it became more and more intense.

If Hunnigan hadn't called, maybe the whole thing would've taken a steamy turn.

"Roost to (your nickname), are you there? Any sign of Baby Eagle or Condor One?"

"Negative, I'm still looking for them. Did you manage to contact them?" You were glued to Krauser the whole time, and his hands never left your body.

"Negative, they've been radio silent for one hour. I can't find their location either."

"I'll keep searching for them. I'll contact them as soon as I find them."

"Copy that. Roost out."

"Was that Hunnigan?" Krauser asked.

"Yeah. Missed her?"

"Nope. The only person I missed from that chaos was you."

"You made sure to show me that..." You put some distance between you once again, even if your body didn't want to. You knew that what your heart wanted was impossible. Krauser has already chosen his path. He wasn't the man you used to know.

"Join me," he suggested.

"Not my thing, sorry. I think this is where we go our separate ways."

Krauser lowered his gaze as a feeling of sadness and disappointment took over him.

A blunt "fine" came out of his mouth before leaving the room. You remained, fighting every urge to run to him and hold him tight. You had to repeat to yourself many times that he wasn't the man you knew anymore in an attempt to stop yourself from crying and regain focus on the mission.

"I don't have time for this sentimental crap."

With that, you continued your search for Ashley and Leon.

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