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thebearer · 6 months ago

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in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two

prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.

or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3

contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+

Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much.

“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!”

“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-”

“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed.

Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad.

That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen.

“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-”

“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house.

Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine.

God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep.

Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery.

“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.”

“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him.

“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too.

“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.”

Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-”

“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-”

“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-”

“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?”

Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.”

“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.”

Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose.

“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth.

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-”

“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him.

“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!”

“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.”

“You do?” Fak perked up.

“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.”

Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed.

“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.”

Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy.

“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C��mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.”

Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother.

“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button.

Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state.

“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?”

“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked.

“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by.

“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.”

“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was given away by the cat.

“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy.

“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness.

“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously.

“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch.

Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick.

Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.”

Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left.

Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York.

His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful.

“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening.

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-”

“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed.

“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff.

“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse.

“Nat, I-”

“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons.

“You should be ashamed of yourself-”

“-I am-”

“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-”

“-No, I know-”

“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically.

“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-”

“-Don’t-”

“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.”

Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it.

“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered.

“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor.

Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again.

Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears.

“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-”

“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.”

Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.”

Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words.

“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.”

Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now.

Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-”

“-I-I’m not-”

“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.”

“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out.

“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.”

“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.”

Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.”

Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older.

“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.”

Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization.

“You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.”

Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.”

Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor.

“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything.

“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway.

Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak.

“I am!” Fak chirped defensively.

Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness.

He knew that time would come.

Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-”

“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-”

“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?”

“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?”

Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?”

“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.”

“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out.

Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him.

“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.”

Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about.

So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey.

It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that.

“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.”

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.”

“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.”

“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.”

“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.”

Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.”

“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.”

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perlelune · 1 year ago

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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.

His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.

He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.

His visits grow more frequent.

You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been.

But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally.

And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.

There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.

You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues.

This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.

It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends.

You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.

So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.

“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually.

“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”

His words make you sit up straight.

“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation.

Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.

“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”

You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.

“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”

His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”

William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.

“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”

He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.

He grabs your hands and kisses them.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”

William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.

When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.

He immediately stops.

Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath.

“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”

He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”

A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

He tilts his head and laughs.

“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.

“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.

“Apologies, hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.

Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.

“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.

William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time.

He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.

Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.

When he releases you, you’re breathless.

“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.

“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.

Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.

“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”

Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.

His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you.

“Nothing.”

You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.

“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.

“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”

You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.

“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”

“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”

Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”

His mouth quirks lopsidedly.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point.

No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.

You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.”

He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”

Your brow arches in question.

“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”

Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.

“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.

You shake your head.

“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”

His unwavering inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of, princess?”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”

“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”

“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”

You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene.

A lame excuse flows from your lips.

“I don’t even know what to wear.”

“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.

“What?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.

“Wait, Coryo…”

He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.

“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.

You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.

It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to.

Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”

“Just trust me. Try it.”

Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.

Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.

Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.

“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.

Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.

“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”

“I do but…”

“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.

Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.

You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.

He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.

“Hm nice, twirl for me.”

His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.

Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.

“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done.

He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.

“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.

“I promised I would,” you defend.

He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”

Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.

He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,

“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”

You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room.

“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”

Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs.

He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t.

It makes you realize how much you missed.

After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.

Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.

You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”

Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.

A slow exhale drops from your chest.

“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”

It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.

It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.

Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”

“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”

A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it.

“Hm, what’s wrong?”

A frown puckers his forehead.

“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.

You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”

“There’s something in it.”

“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”

Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…

Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.

He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”

“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”

“Of course.”

He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.

“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.

A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you.

The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.

If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.

“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.

“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Head…heavy.”

“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.

You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds.

Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.

“You just need a little bit of rest.”

Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.

“Rest…” you echo.

But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness.

Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest.

“Coryo, what is happening-”

His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side.

When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss.

He returns to the space between your thighs.

You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs.

Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”

His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core.

“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”

You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t.

“I…”

The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.

Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling.

You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.

He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.

Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly.

Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.

He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.

He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.

Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.

“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.

A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles.

You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.

A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him.

When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead.

Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.

Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.

“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted.

His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.

“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone.

The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.

A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.

The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.

A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.

His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.

Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.

Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.

“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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mydadleft471 · 5 months ago

Text

Envelop Me

Summary: Messmer begins to worry when he realizes he hasn't seen you at all today. Rushing to your chambers, he realizes that you're just on your period and need some comfort.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings, per usual. Just my boi being soft and caring for a fem! reader on her period.

Messmer lovers, I've brought an appetizer!

This fic was requested by anonymous! The request was, "Consider: Messmer x reader on their period, he's like a very large heat pack". GENIUS IDEA. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you like it :D

My requests are indeed open! I'm going to get started on my next request as soon as I post this, so be on the lookout for a new fic in the next few days.

Anywho, please enjoy! Thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting on my works! Each and every one makes me wanna kick my feet and giggle fr.

Messmer was beginning to worry about you. Half the day had passed already and he hadn’t seen you out of your chambers. Normally, you’d make your way to him soon after you’d finished breakfast. Even if you planned on spending the day pouring over documents and books in his storehouse, you’d pay him a visit before departing. This was unusual behavior for you. Had he done something to upset you? Did you fall ill overnight? Surely not the latter; his servants would inform him right away of your state and would have taken you to the infirmary.

He decided that he couldn’t sit and wait on his throne for you anymore. He would come to your chambers himself and see what was preventing you from visiting him. Quickly making his way out of his dark chamber, he startles the Fire Knights standing guard outside his door. Taking the steps down two at a time and rushing through the hallways towards your quarters, he notices one of your usual servants standing worried outside your door. Noticing his presence, she bows and steps aside for him to enter.

“Has she come out of her chambers today?” Messmer tries to keep his voice even despite the uncertainty coursing through his veins like fire.

She shakes her head. “No, my Lord. I brought breakfast to her, per usual, and she only ate a little. I asked if she required assistance getting dressed, but she dismissed me and told me she wished to spend the day in bed.”

“And why was this not reported to me?” His eye narrows and the servant shrinks into herself. She looks like she wishes she could dissipate into thin air.

“Sincerest apologies, my Lord. I figured she simply wished to remain alone today. I asked if she was feeling ill, and she said that she was just very tired.”

He sighs. Sometimes, you would prefer to stay in bed all day, but you would come to Messmer’s chambers and you two would laze around together. He cannot recall a time where you would prefer to be alone.

He sighs. “I understand. I will see what bothers her so.”

The servant bows and scurries off, leaving him alone before your door. Never before has he been so afraid to see you. With shaking hands, he raps on your door three times. He hears a faint shuffling of sheets coming from within the room.

“Yes?” He takes immense comfort in the fact that you are responding.

“Beloved, may I come in? I wish to see thee.”

He hears your voice quiver. “I am afraid I don’t feel very well today. I’m not sure I would make good company, My Lord.”

“Whatever is the matter? Dost thou require a healer?” His snakes wrap themselves tighter around his frame, also worried for your wellbeing. They nose at your door, eager to see you.

“No, my love. I’m okay.” Your words come out strained, and his anxiety increases tenfold.

“I wish to see thee with my own eyes to ensure thy good health. Please, my beloved.” He would get on his knees and beg for you to let him in if he had to. He would do anything to know you were alright.

There is a beat of silence before you respond. “Come in.”

He opens the door so fast he almost twists the door off its hinges. He enters swiftly and closes the door, striding over to your side in hurried steps that echo off the marble floors. Messmer’s snakes incline themselves forward and it almost seems like they’re racing him to get to you first. When he arrives at your bedside, the sight he sees makes his heart drop.

You are wrapped in your sheets and comforter with sweat adorning your forehead. You wince in pain and he notices that you are curled in on yourself. You look at him with tired eyes and give him a small smile. His snakes flick their tongues into the air and they taste a hint of blood. Your blood. Messmer erupts in fury and his mind races a mile a minute. His serpents coil and hiss, looking around the room wildly for your attacker.

“What has happened? Who hast dared to hurt thee?!” He roars, summoning his spear. “Tell me now, beloved, and I will ensure they never cause thee pain again.” His voice bounces off the walls of your chamber and he is sure the entire keep can hear him, but he cannot bring himself to care.

You reach weakly for his hand and he immediately takes it, clutching it tightly. You feel the heat radiating off of him. You know you need to calm him down, and soon, lest he burn your favorite blanket to ash.

“No one has hurt me, my love. I’m alright.”

“My serpents smelled thy blood in the air. Who hast hurt thee so?”

“Messmer, I’m on my period. Nobody hurt me.” You wince in pain once again.

He can’t believe he didn’t realize that sooner. In his defense, he thought someone had hurt his sweet consort.

“I see.” He gingerly sits down on the bed beside your crumpled form, still holding your hand. “I apologize if I frightened thee.”

“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “You… do know what a period is, yes?”

He raises his brow. “Thou thinkest me a child?”

“No, not at all, I just didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, lightning licks up your spine and radiates throughout your back. You curl in on yourself tighter and breathe heavily.

Messmer’s eye flicks wildly over your covered body. “What wouldst thou have me do? I refuse to stand idly by while thou suffers.”

“Can you come lay with me, please? I just want you to hold me.” Your sweet request has his heart fluttering in his chest.

Wordlessly, he walks over to the other side of the large bed and climbs in. He doesn’t want to ask you to move when you are clearly in so much pain. He shuffles over to you and pulls the blanket up to cover you both. He hovers next to you, unsure of how to hold you. He’s terrified of hurting you on accident.

You roll over and scoot closer to him, your body protesting the sudden movement. You lay your head on his chest and try to get comfortable on your side.

“How dost thou feel now?” He strokes your hair tentatively.

“A little better.” You continue to shift against him.

He sighs and tilts your chin up so you meet his gaze. It’s loving and tender. “Wouldst thou be comfortable laying on top of me?”

“I think so.”

He gently lifts your body until you are completely sprawled out on top of him on your stomach with your head in the middle of his chest. He places a large hand on your back and you feel immediate relief. Between the warmth of his body pressed against yours and his hand on your back, your muscles slowly begin to relax.

“You’re so warm…” You mumble into his chest.

“Dost thou require me to move? Have I made thee too warm?” His voice is laced with concern.

“No. It feels wonderful.” You nuzzle your head into him and sigh, content. He smiles and places a light kiss to the top of your head. His serpents nip at the blanket and pull it over you, then carefully wind over your shoulders and lie down.

“Why didst thou not send for me?” He traces small circles into your lower back. “I grew worried at your absence.”

“I’m sorry. I just felt like I wouldn’t be good company like this.”

“So thou would rather toil in isolation?”

“That’s very funny coming from you, my love.”

He rolls his eye. “Perhaps I am not the best example to live by when one is in such pain, but I wish to be of comfort, just as thou has been for me. I wish to care for thee, my beloved.”

You lean your head up to look at him and press a kiss to his lips. His cheeks redden from the simple gesture, as they always do. “You care for me plenty.”

“I am glad thou thinkest so.”

You shake your head and smile at him. “I know so. I refuse to hear anymore doubts from you.”

“Thou’rt demanding indeed, but I shall not stand against thy wishes, my Lady.”

You chuckle at him. “I also refuse to get up for another few hours.”

“Being late for dinner does not sound like thee.”

Your stomach grumbles at the mention of dinner, and Messmer laughs.

“How much of the day did I spend wallowing away in misery?”

“About half. Dinner is not far away.”

“Good. I’m starving.”

A comfortable silence encompasses you both and all you can hear are your shared breaths. Messmer lazily flicks his wrist and your fireplace sparks to life. The flames hum and sway side-to-side, dancing. The black tendrils delicately wind their way up and around the flame in almost hypnotizing movements. You’ve always found Messmer’s fire to be beautiful.

You could stay here forever, wrapped in silk sheets and cozy blankets with your lover. His dominant hand caresses your back with feather-light touches and it lulls you into a drowsy haze. Your eyes flutter shut.

“Messmer?” Your voice is serene and quiet.

“Yes, beloved?”

“Do you think we could have dinner in bed? I don’t want to get up.”

He laughs genuinely, a sound you’ve grown to love. It makes you smile to see him happy and carefree. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“You might have to wake me.”

“Though it pains me to disturb thy slumber, I shall, just for thee. Now, rest.” He brings his other hand to your hair and runs his nails across your scalp, making you shiver and relax even further into him.

“You spoil me.”

“I know.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

#messmer the impaler #messmer x reader #messmer x tarnished #elden ring x reader #elden ring messmer #messmer the impaler x reader #soft boi hours #i need a messmer heating pad smh

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domnamewoman · 1 year ago

Note

I was wondering if I could request an angst we’re all of the MK 2023 characters S/O get turned injured severely by Titian Shang Tsung (could have a happy end, could not…up too you!)

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: Angst 😭, Canon-Typical Violence

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s heart stopped as he saw your body lying there, lifeless on the ground. He bent down to cradle you in his arms as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t believe it, the love of his life was now gone. He blamed himself for not getting there in time. Why was fate always so cruel, was he really destined to be alone? No, no he wouldn’t accept it. He was the Keeper of Time. He would reverse time and make sure that he is here to prevent such a horrid outcome. He would end Titan Shang Tsung once and for all.

Raiden felt as though he could throw up as he looked at your unconscious body lying in the bed. Titan Shang Tsung had blasted you off a cliff and you hit your head on a rock when you landed. The physician told Raiden that you were in a coma from the head injury. There was no telling when you would wake up or if you ever would. Raiden held your hand and rested his forehead on it as he let his tears fall. All he could do was stay by your side and wait. And he would, even if it was forever.

Kung Lao was angry. At himself for not being there, at the physicians for not being able to save you, but mostly at Titan Shang Tsung. He was the cause of all of this. Kung Lao placed one last kiss on your lips as he promised you to get revenge. He would stop at nothing to see Titan Shang Tsung taken down. He pushed his grief to the side and focused on making a plan to get to Titan Shang Tsung. He would grieve once his promise to you was fulfilled.

Johnny Cage struggled to find meaning in anything anymore. Without you, there just wasn’t any point to life for Johnny. Who cared about the movies, or the awards, or even saving Earthrealm from destruction? He couldn’t bring you back by doing any of it so he deemed it all useless. Johnny stopped trying, losing his arrogance and bravado. How great is “Johnny Cage” if he can’t even save his love? He was nothing but a failure in his eyes now and that’s how he would live.

Kenshi Takahashi felt all the joy in his life slipping away as he felt your blood slip through his fingers where he was applying pressure to your wound. He tried to smile and reassure you that the physician was on their way and you would make it out alive but he knew it was too late. He knelt there, helpless as you exhaled your final breath, going completely limp. Kenshi sat there with you in his arms for hours, pushing away Johnny and Kung Lao as they tried to get him to let you go. He couldn’t, not ever.

Kitana released a scream as she heard your neck snap at the hands of Titan Shang Tsung. Why? Why did it have to be you to charge at him? Why didn’t you listen to her when she told you to wait? Why couldn’t she move fast enough to prevent this from happening? Kitana gripped your shirt and cried into your chest as the fight continued around her. How was she supposed to go on? But she had to, for you. It’s what you would have wanted her to do. She vows to you as she grabs her bladed fans that she will avenge your death.

Mileena spent all of her time trying to find someone to help you. She was the Empress and she would spare no cost of getting the best physicians, the best medicine, whatever was needed to accelerate your healing process. The court could be mad all they wanted, but she didn’t care about her duties. Her only priority right now was seeing you healthy and back on your feet again. The only thing that could distract her from this is any updates on Titan Shang Tsung’s whereabouts. She would make sure that he died by her hands for harming her love.

Tanya watched in unbelief as Titan Shang Tsung stuck his claws deep into your abdomen. You crumpled to the ground, coughing up blood. Tanya rushed over and held you in her arms. She didn’t know how could she let this happen. She was Umgadi for goodness sake. And yet, she could protect her love from danger. She pulled you out of the path of battle, making sure you were as comfortable as you could be as she applied pressure to your wounds. She would make sure that you survived no matter what.

Bi-Han was filled with rage. Titan Shang Tsung dared to take his love away from him. How could Bi-Han call himself Earthrealm’s protector when he couldn’t even protect you? No, he would make Titan Shang Tsung pay for what he did. Bi-Han would gather all of the Lin Kuei and hunt him down. No longer was their purpose protecting Earthrealm. Their only mission was to kill Titan Shang Tsung to avenge the death of his lover. Nothing else mattered or was more important to him.

Kuai Liang couldn’t control the fire rolling off of his body as he saw you there unmoving, at Titan Shang Tsung’s feet. He rushed toward him, swinging out his chained knives aiming for his head. Kuai Liang fought with everything in him, letting his anger fuel his fire. He didn’t worry about his own well-being, what was the point now that you were gone? He ignored all the pain from his injuries and pressed on. He would put an end to Titan Shang Tsung, or he would die trying.

Tomas ran with all his might holding on to your limp body. He had to get you to a physician and quick. He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t lose another family member. After his family was killed and he joined the Lin Kuei, he thought he would never have to go through heartache like that again. He couldn’t imagine a world without you. He pleaded with you to stay with him as he looked down at you taking shallow breaths. He ignored the burning in his legs and he pushed himself to run faster. He won’t lose you too.

Syzoth didn’t believe what they told him when he arrived at the palace. How could you be dead? It wasn’t possible. While he was out on a mission Titan Shang Tsung attacked? No, no that couldn’t be. He continued to deny it until they brought him to see your body. This couldn’t be happening to him again. Why could he never protect his loved ones? Why did he always have to be left completely alone? He will get his revenge. He will take away everything that Titan Shang Tsung has ever held dear.

Baraka knew that fate could be cruel when he got infected with Tarkat. But he thought he would be allowed some form of happiness in his life. That proved to be wrong when you were killed, leaving him all alone. Baraka could feel his sanity slipping. He was left with nothing yet again. The only one he loved was taken from him. All he could think about was shredding Titan Shang Tsung into pieces. He would turn into the savage beast everyone thought he was. He had nothing more to lose.

Shang Tsung couldn’t believe you were killed. To make matters worse, it was at the hands of his doppelganger. Shang Tsung would question what type of person he was for there to be a version of himself out there that would commit such a heinous act. Shang Tsung would practice all the sorcery in the world to find a way to bring you back. He didn’t care how many souls he had to steal. Starting with the soul of Titan Shang Tsung. He would prove that he was the best version in all timelines.

Zeffeero dropped to his knees in front of your lifeless body. What was it all for? He spent all his time trying to get power and status and for what? Just for the beloved to no longer be a part of his life? Zeffeero looked up, no one seemed to notice you, the most important person to him, lying on the cold ground. No, they didn’t get to go on with their lives like nothing happened. He would ruin their lives just like his now was. He would rain down an endless flood and drown them all.

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yogurtkags · 6 months ago

Text

❝ LUCKY CHARM ❞ — oikawa tooru

cw. gn!reader, friends with implied feelings, timeskip!tooru, tooru’s family owns a white cat called milky (wow i wonder who named her) word count. 628 synopsis. tooru's packing for his move to argentina and he finds something that reminds you of fond memories

“are you sure you have everything packed?” you ask unconvinced, laying on your back on the bed with your eyes closed and head hanging off the foot of the bed. milky climbs onto your tummy, nuzzling into your palm as you give her chin rubs and scritches behind her ears. she took a liking to you since the day you met her. you welcome the weight with open arms, further sinking into the plush mattress.

tooru invited you to his home in the name of helping him pack, but you’ve basically just been making sure he stops to take water and snack breaks once in a while. he’s been at it since morning and seems just about done, minus contemplating items of sentimental value. you wonder if he’s overthinking it as much as you are, the idea of being so far away after being basically joined at the hip for the last couple of years. he’s fiddling with his fingers again, a telltale sign that he’s restless. he plays it off, but you know him too well.

pacing back and forth between his large suitcase and the door, he waves you off, “yeah pretty much, I’m just looking to see if there’s any last minute things that I might want to add. got my alien socks— hey look at this, remember when this photo was taken?”

eyes fluttering open with a few pokes to your cheek, the photo in question greets you. a small polaroid picture that hajime took — the back view of the two of you, hands clasped together and looking off the shore. you remember the day this was taken, a precious memory you hold close to your heart.

the two of you were walking along the pier, ice cream in hand. you were ahead of the others, them trailing behind and getting caught up with something strange mattsun saw online. hearing a collective “ehhh?” coming from the bunch, you and tooru look at each other before shrugging and lightly chuckling.

there’s never a dull moment with the bunch, you met the four of them back in freshman hear at seijoh and never looked back. you shared the most classes with tooru so naturally you got closer and started spending lunchtime together whenever he wasn't at the gym or with hajime. more often than not, you went up to the roof to escape from all the noise and his fangirls, talking about everything and nothing at all. you saw a side to him that not many others did.

“oh shit—” you blurt out as you trip over a slightly raised plank, tooru immediately grabbing onto your hand to prevent you from falling.

he dramatically exclaimed, “be careful, y/n-chan! can’t have you face planting and hurting your pretty face now.” causing you to retort in embarrassment, "shut up!"

after stabilising yourself, you noticed that the tight grip of his hand over yours never left. you welcomed the feeling with warmed cheeks and a bashful smile, giving his palm a squeeze in thanks. the way his hand enveloped yours felt natural, right. and you held onto the feeling for as long as you could, neither of you making a move to pull apart.

you don’t talk about that incident happening anymore and bury it in the back of your mind, but the recollection still brings a soft smile to your lips and a flush to your cheeks. you’re touched that he’d even think to bring the photo along, even more so when you watch him smoothly slide it into his wallet.

your face burns, suddenly shy as he leans down to peck your forehead with a gentleness that he only seems to display with you, and mumbles, “who else is going to be my lucky charm, hmm?”

notes. soft tooru hours ♡ fun fact: this was actually an idea i had noted down more than a year ago but just never wrote for some reason. (dividers: @/cafekitsune) reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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save-the-villainous-cat · 6 months ago

Note

request idea: a stubborn and naive hero desperately wants to redeem the villain but the villain refuses because of their selfish nature, they only care about the hero but can't see themselves doing a heroic act for anyone else have a wonderful day!!

Once the hero opened their eyes, they truly felt the pain. Their muscles were sore and they could barely move. All they could remember was the brutal fight and horrible humiliation. A battle so bloody, they had expected to die there in that warehouse. Surrounded by their friends.

They had tried to help the other heroes but in reality, everyone had been on their own. The hero remembered being shot in the leg. Remembered seeing teammates die.

For a second, they had hoped it was a nightmare but it had been quite uncomfortably real. They took in a painful breath.

They were so full of despair, it was basically gnawing on them. Guilt overwhelmed them and they felt like throwing up.

They turned around in the villain's bed and saw their nemesis on the other side of it, reading a book. It wasn't surprising to the hero, after all they had played this game a thousand times already.

"My friends," the hero said. Their voice was hoarse. They could barely swallow. As if their throat had turned into a hot metal tube.

The villain looked down at them.

"I'll be honest, it wasn't pretty," the villain said. They put the book aside. "From what I saw, only a few managed to escape."

The hero nodded but they felt empty. Their exhaustion had taken most of their strength and the villain's bed was a little too comfortable. Unsurprisingly, the hero felt bandages all around their body but it didn't really change anything - their thigh seemed to be on fire and they had to concentrate really hard to prevent themselves from crying.

Pain had become familiar but that didn't mean the hero could ever get used to it. Usually, the villain didn't drug them without their consent (except for that one time when the villain had dug a bullet out of the hero's shoulder.) But most of the time, the hero wished they did it anyway.

"Did you help them?" the hero asked. A redundant question. They tried to sit up but the upcoming headache was so harsh, they had to sink back into the mattress. The villain moved the hero's pillow to make it more comfortable for them.

Survivor guilt was cruel. The hero had been forced to participate in endless seminars to discuss it but it had never truly helped them. From mission to mission, they just felt more miserable and having someone rescue them every time made it even worse. It was cursed.

"I am sorry," the villain whispered. The villain tested the hero's temperature with the back of their hand on the hero's forehead. "But I am not like you."

"You could be."

"I can't be," the villain said. "You know I can't. How are you feeling? Do you need some water?"

"If you had time to save me, you must have had enough time to save other people as well," the hero said.

"Love, you know me," the villain said. They moved to lie down next to the hero. They stared at each other, the hero with all their frustrating pain and the villain with all their logical indifference. "I refuse to risk even a second when it comes to you. Do you want anything to drink?"

"I don't understand. You could be such a good person. You could save people on a daily basis but you simply refuse? You can be kind and you can be good but you- I don't understand."

"I know this upsets you," the villain said. Carefully, they searched with their fingertips for the hero's hand but when they touched, the hero pulled away. "But you have always been my priority."

"We are not together anymore," the hero said. "You know that, right?"

"...I know."

"You are not supposed to love me anymore," the hero said. "You are not supposed to save me or bandage me or pity me."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," the villain said. They didn't meet the hero's eyes this time. But the hero was too exhausted for fighting, they were too exhausted for another disagreement.

It had been an awful break-up. An ugly type of heartbreak that had reduced the hero to a sobbing mess. They would break down randomly, right in the middle of the day. It would leave them scarred and unable to get out of bed for days.

And all of that because they had chosen to break up with the villain.

"Loving you is easy," the villain said. "I will always care about you. I can't just...turn it off."

"You need to stop," the hero whispered. Their voice was shaking. Tears were falling. They could feel their wound pulse. "You need to stop with the love letters and the flowers and the saving. You need to stop with all of this. It's not good for either of us."

"I am already keeping my distance," the villain said. "We see each other maybe once a month."

"And that's already too much." Again, the villain stretched out their hand and this time, the hero let them take theirs. Their heart couldn't take it anymore. For weeks, they had been losing people they cared about left and right. Whenever a situation seemed hopeless, the villain showed up to save them.

And the hero couldn't tell if they preferred dying over it. Sometimes, that seemed like a more merciful circumstance but they couldn't tell.

"Do you hate me?" the villain asked softly. They looked as miserable as the hero felt.

The hero didn't answer. Of course they were angry, of course they were hateful but it was directed at someone else.

"Again, I am sorry. But saving someone else and risking your life - it doesn't work like that. I can't do it, I just cannot. I don't want you to hate me for it."

"I don't hate you," the hero said. "I despise myself for being too weak. I despise myself for being responsible for our break-up. I am bad at being a hero. I can't even save myself. I can't save my friends, I cannot save my relationship - I despise myself for being so impotent. I hate it. I hate it."

"You are frustrated, I get that. But blaming yourself and hating yourself for all of the things that are happening around you isn't helping you. All of your friends know the risks of doing this. They know what they are getting themselves into. They are responsible adults who are willing to save others - they are willing to risk their own life for other people. You cannot blame yourself for their actions."

"It's not fair, though."

"No, it isn't. It is not fair. But you are not responsible, no matter how you toss and turn this situation. You did your best. You got shot. You broke your ribs. You passed out. What else was there to do for you?"

The hero didn't answer. They didn't like conversations like these. It didn't make them feel better.

"I just sometimes wish you were good. Not even for the sake of being good but for my sake. So, I can be proud of you."

The villain looked quite pale. Eyes wide, they stared at the hero.

And the hero knew it hurt to hear something like that. Hell, it hurt to say it.

"Did you leave me because I wasn't more like you?" the villain asked carefully. Now, their voice was trembling and the hero couldn't help but feel horribly guilty again.

Everything they touched turned into ashes and expressing their feelings seemed only to hurt other people. They had asked themselves often if simply not talking would solve all matters.

"I left because it was wrong to stay with someone who was against everything I stand for."

"I'm not - no, I adore what you do, I just can't - seriously, I am not against-"

"It's about what other people see. My friends, my boss, the public...I never wanted to keep my relationship a secret and us together...It wasn't right, it looked like I was betraying my own people."

"Does that mean...you were still in love with me when we broke up? That you didn't leave because you fell out of love?"

"No. Though it would have been easier that way, I fear." They turned around in bed. They couldn't look at the villain, they couldn't look them in the eyes when they said these next few words. "I don't resent you. But I could never see myself loving someone like you ever again."

#ouch #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask #angst

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jessilynallendilla · 1 month ago

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DPXDC BATFAM FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

& BRUCE

City Of Last Hopes (The Long Homecoming) T

Bruce Wayne became a registered foster parent at the age of twenty when he decided to take in a newly orphaned Dick Grayson. The state of New Jersey and the city of Gotham decided to utilize that fact. Over the years, Bruce has fostered dozens of children, though they were all kept out of the limelight for their own protection. Some he was able to keep in contact with after they moved on from his home. Others, he wasn't. But the ones he worried about the most were the two that should have been his but weren't, were taken away, instead. It's been eleven years since Bruce last saw Jazz and Danny Fenton, and while he's grateful to know they're alive, he dearly wished he'd found them sooner.

All I Am To You Is A Tragedy, Right? M SERIES

Two years ago, Bruce Wayne lost his son, Danny, to one of the Fentons' botched inventions. Return to present day, he's come to another universe to retrieve something from Fenton Works. There, he finds another version of his son, alive and breathing. If Bruce could not keep his son, thanks to their incompetency, why should they keep theirs?

My Best Friend, Danny G

He had been frothing at the mouth to see Bruce take on the Mantle of the Bat that he hadn’t even thought of how he became Batman, at least not realistically. He knew because the comics told him so, but here and now, feeling Bruce’s tears drying on his skin, the warmth of the child’s back as he rested his hand there soothingly, Danny felt his own tears start to gather. He curled himself around Bruce’s slumbering body and cried softly

Finding Solace T

When working on a possible case in Amity Park, Bruce Wayne didn't expect to find a kid that would burrow he's way into his heart. A strange connection built, and before Bruce knew it, he found a new addition to the family. Well before they really needed each other.

Rendezvous T 766 SERIES

a king from another dimension approaches Batman to ask for help. This isn't the weirdest thing Bruce experiences that night.

Wayne's Haunted Mansion M SERIES

Something is wrong. Bruce notices it when he's not alone, but he feels like he is being watched. The bad part? He feels it both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman. Who is watching him? He's determined to find out. He regrets it when finds out that there is another child in his home, but one who is in desperate need of help.

To Fail And To Succeed T 6,940 SERIES

A very tired Bruce Wayne may have revealed to Vicki Vale that he wasn't as dumb as he pretended, so Brucie Wayne needs a stupid business venture to throw money at. What better than two paranormal scientists who swear they can build a portal to the Realm of the Dead? He didn't anticipate the damn thing actually working. And he certainly didn't anticipate watching another child die.

The Absolute Fuckery Caused By One Danny Fenton NR

Jazz got Bruce Wayne to temporarily get care of Danny to prevent anymore attacks from the G.I.W. towards her brother. A few flaws with this plan, Danny doesn't trust adults, rich people, or people who want to adopt him. Which Bruce Wayne technically fits all of. So Danny has come to the conclusion if he is going to be shacked up, mostly against his will, with another Fruitloops, he is going to enjoy himself, and hopefully get himself kicked out in the process.

Found In Gotham G 4,026 SERIES

Months after appearing in Metropolis, a teen with glowing white hair appears exploring Gotham's skyline. He appears to be looking for the city's main vigilante, so Batman approaches him.

Monsters At Your Doorstep T 1,907

Bruce falls into a cave of bats and meets the darkness-- or whatever it is that lives inside it.

Summons NR 17,295

Phantom was next in line for the throne of the Ghost Zone, however, he was still underage. He wouldn't be king for some time, yet when they summon the Ghost King now, someone still has to show up.

Long Live The King (The Ghost King Is Dead) T SERIES

Ghosts are attacking across the nation. The Justice League Dark's supernatural entity contacts either don't know anything or they refuse to talk. The government facilities that the ghosts are targeting refuse to offer any information, rather they are pushing for martial law that allows them to declare war against the attacking ghosts. Bruce's last lead is Jasmine Fenton, daughter of the deceased ecto-biologists Madeleine and Jack Fenton, currently imprisoned in Blackgate.

Oh, My Humanity T 4.466 SERIES

In one timeline, Bruce learns about Phantom's identity as the ghost falls to pieces in his arms. In another, Bruce finds out like this. Bruce copes like he always does: by falling apart at the seams. Otherwise known as: an alternate sequel to oh, the humanity, now with more emotional impact.

Timeline Unraveling T SERIES

Clockwork rescues old Bruce Wayne, Terry and Matt McGinnis, Max Gibson and Dana Tan from a collapsing timeline and brings them safely to Danny, who delivers them to a Gotham decades before most of them were born. Not only is it in the past, but it becomes obvious very quickly that this new past is drastically different. Jason's alive, the Joker's dead, Bruce has another child besides Dick, Tim and Jason, and Bruce actually goes to therapy. It's a lot of adjustment for both the timeline refugees and the people of the new timeline who are helping them.

Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings T SERIES

Stumbling blindly through Gotham's night was not how Danny expected his evening to go -- but to be fair, Vlad injecting him with blood blossom extract was also NOT how he was expecting his evening to go. So it's a night of new surprises, and really Danny just wants to get away from his godfather as soon as possible before the man catches up to him, or before the blood blossom currently coursing through his veins and eating him raw killed him. Vlad is a man that likes to hide in the dark, it's unfortunate for him that Danny's learned to be a thing that hides in there too. From the corner of his unfocused eye he spots a man with horns dripping in shadows, hiding in an alleyway. Danny knows a kindred spirit when he sees one.

Zeus' Dice T SERIES

Two years, almost to the day, after the Great Amity Park Tragedy finds Danny Fenton, orphaned and alone, being handed over to his newest foster parent. But, unlike the others, this foster has a secret that could bring Danny back into the hero business. Because, unlike the others, this foster is a hero himself: He is Batman.

Ghosts Of Gotham T

Gotham has a ghost problem. And it's not the Amity Park kind of ghost problem. While Danny tries his hardest to stay out of the spotlight, his attempts to help the unseen population of Gotham lands him in a world of trouble. Now Bruce Wayne is offering him protection and he could be the only one with the ability to stop a new crime organisation from taking over his new home. OR People are going missing in Gotham and this new kid is keeping secrets. Bruce doesn't like this at all.

Voices That They Left T SERIES

When a new ghostly enemy cost Danny Fenton the lives of his friends and family, he wasn't expecting to get adopted by billionaire Bruce Wayne and move to Gotham. All he needs to do is survive two years until he can go back to live in Amity Park. Something dark is growing in him though, and it's stoking the bitterness and anger that burns inside.

& JASON

The Third Mother NR

For the past year, Jason Todd has been searching for his birth mother. There are three potential suspects for the identity of his mother. The first is an agent by the Israeli Secret Service by the name of Sharmin Rosen. The second is an assassin of world renown working under the name Lady Shiva. The third is revealed to be a false name. Dr. Sheila Haywood died before Jason was even born. When the first two leads turn out to be dead ends, Jason has only one way forward: visit Haywood's only living relative (who isn't off the grid): Her sister, Dr. Maddie Fenton. But the town of Amity Park has its own secrets, and they don't take too kindly to the Bats investigating their home...

Chasing Shadows T

As Bruce Wayne begins to slowly recover from the loss of his son, two separate mysteries open up old wounds. Who is the unknown leaving clues hinting at a return to Gotham, and who is the phantom pretending to be his lost son? Is it just a coincidence they're active in Gotham at the same time? Or are they connected?

Unearthed, Reborn M

24-year-old Danny isn't sure what, exactly, is going on when he stumbles on newly-formed halfa Jay in the Ghost Zone. Unfortunately, Jay can't really remember enough to give him any hints. Oh well, who needs to know their past anyway? This is Gotham; no one cares about your past here. Besides, Jay just got adopted by the weirdest trio of people he's ever met, so he's got more important things to focus on.

Ghosts? As My Therapy Animals? More Likely Than You Think. T 21,463

Jason is minding his own business, picking up strange green glowing goops with eyes, and living his not-very-best life. Meanwhile the Batfamily is tracking down flying dogs, overpowered Metas calling themselves ghosts, and someone is having far too much fun with the boxes around Gotham. But this ain't about them.

"Oh My God, I'm Becoming My Father." T

Dani needs money, there's only so long her human body can last without food, and she lost the credit card Sam gave her when she crash-landed in Gotham city bay. So, she decides she's going to go the one guy she knows exists in Gotham that will help a kid down on their luck no questions asked - Red Hood. Last time she'd seen Danny, he'd told her that there were rumours the Red Hood was undead, so he was the safest option for a halfa like her. So, she needed to ask *THE* undead crime lord of Gotham for a job. She didn't mean to get accidentally adopted.

The King Who Reigns Supreme NR

Jason rage episodes are getting worse and the family (reluctantly) calls for help. Enter Ghost King, and whatever is up with Todd is a lot more than what anyone could imagine.

Dead Men Walking T 2,406

“A knight who answers his King’s call is no interloper.”

“Do you answer my call, Jason Todd?” The Ghost King asks.

Before Those Hands Pulled Me From The Earth NR 1,626

When there was an alert about a disturbance at Jason’s grave the whole family was on edge. Or Danny wakes up in a coffin unable to faze out of it in his panic but Jason and Bruce come to his rescue

Reaper of Heroes (DC Edition) NR 1,527 SERIES

Once crowned Ghost King, Danny also gains another responsibility: reaping the souls of fallen heroes. After all, who better to collect them than a former hero like himself?

Dig Three Graves In Apartment 31c M 15,951 SERIES

Danny Fenton has the role of Willis Todd. There are lots of things to regret about Jason's upbringing

You're Not Yourself When Your Hangry G 2,803

Sam dragged Danny to a gala in Gotham while he is exhausted from fighting his rogues and school. He at least got to smuggle a thermos full of ectoplasm in, otherwise he'd have fallen asleep by now. Meanwhile, Tim and Jason are both just as sleep deprived as Danny, but still being forced to go to the gala. Some time after arriving Tim hides and a seething Jason goes looking for him and finds a tired guy that looks like Tim who offers him a thermos.

Batman's Cape T

Pain and Fear reverberate throughout the Infinate Realms, a wail rips through the air coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Meanwhile on a table the Realms King to be lay strapped down, that which should not be seen lay bare to the eyes of the two in the room. Those he once called parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton held tools that seemed to shift to the macabre glowing all the while. He made a mistake, he let his guard down. They touched it. TheytouchedithelphelphelpneedsafesafesafesafesafeDamiDamiDamiDamiDamiSafeDamisafe. Jason knew something was wrong, did he have to admit it? No. He had been hearing screems -young screams- reverberating through what sure felt like his whole body along with pain searing just under his skin for a week now on and off. Plus it didn't' help that once the pain was gone the pit would take over and he would wake up like 2 states to the west with questionably clean hands and no recolection on how he got there.

̶G̶o̶o̶d̶ Bad Habits Run In The Family T

̶J̶a̶s̶o̶n̶ Red Hood found a teenager hurt in an alleyway, and since he was responsible for the people in his domain, he decided to take him back somewhere safe to take care of him. Turns out, there was a lot more to the situation than Red Hood would have ever anticipated. Including the fact that he was growing attached to the brat who seemed stubborn about everything.

Law Of Retribution NR SERIES

Jason starts seeing ghosts. Danny comes back to the Living Realm for the first time since the Incident. He has a job offer for Red Hood

Baby Ghosts And Baby Birds T

This is based off the prompt I made about both Danny and Jason being considered baby ghosts and being kidnapped by the other ghosts because Gotham is a bad place for babies.

Spelunking T 7,341 SERIES

Danny had just arrived at Wayne Manor after losing everything and convincing Vlad to take a break from trying to mold the kid to be his perfect son. Now, Danny needs to figure out where to hide his souvenir (*soup*venir?) from the Nasty Burger explosion. While doing so, he accidentally finds the BatCave and an unmasked Red Hood. What was it with billionaires and keeping creepy underground lairs

Zombie Prince Of The Infinite Realms T

On a business trip to Gotham, Danny Fenton, CEO of FentonWorks (and King of the Infinite Realms), feels something shift in the fabric of reality. Now he’s got an undead teenager whose soul doesn’t really fit his body anymore, and a whole lot of questions about why the local psychiatric facility functions as a “prison.”

The Moon Will Sing A Song (I Love You Like The Sun) T SERIES

Sometimes, grief has a gravity that you never get up from. And sometimes, it leaves little boys that have glass in their teeth and punch-scraped skin with a hole in their heart and blood in their mouth, and a five-year long taste for vengeance over the murder of their best friend. Gotham claws its way into the hearts of its children and leaves oil-smears on their souls. For Danny Fenton, he is no different and no better than the rest of his fellow kids of Crime Alley. It doesn't matter if he's been gone since he was eleven. Blood has always been a part of him, so it's second nature for him to pick up his fists and turn them into claws. It's how he's been taught, after all. And what he's also been taught, is that arrogance kills, and the Joker has been long since due for his fill. What's one more death in Gotham's long list of them?

Cradled In The Wails Of A King T 1,491 SERIES

Danny is in a meeting when he hears the screams of one of his most trusted guard. Dame Gotham screams until she can't anymore at the grave of a small bird, gone too soon. He checks for a soul and finds something... not so much alive as it is something dead being reanimated. Someone else to protect.

Starling T

The kid went by ‘Danny Phantom’. The next file was where things got interesting. A corrupted blood sample analysis had been put through the computers, where, along with a whole host of unknown compounds and chemicals, the DNA pinged several alleles, proving a potential familial match. A familial match to him. It couldn’t be. No. But the boy looked to be about the same age as he would have been, after Jason did a quick bit of mental math. But the hair and eyes were all wrong.

Throwdown Therapy T 30,714 SERIES

Danny hears about a suspicious character lurking around Gotham and decides to befriend him. Jason has no thoughts on the matter — mostly, he has a lot of empty-head green-tinged rage on the matter. This is less of a roadblock than one might expect. Danny thinks he might even be able to help the guy, if he can form enough of a relationship to bring up sensitive topics like "you have the ghostly equivalent of lead poisoning or maybe rabies, we aren't quite sure".

Adoption Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be T

Danny Phantom escapes the Doctors Fenton and flees to Gotham with Jazz. Unfortunately, he looks quite similar to a certain Jason Todd around the time of his death. Kidnapped by the Batfam in a case of mistaken identity, Danny doesn’t have a good time and Jazz becomes a supervillain to look for him.

On Any Given Day (We’re Only Six Feet Away) T

Jason follows a lead and finds something he wasn’t looking for.

All I Have Is Freeze Dried Peaches and Packet Ramen, And They Aren’t Very Good But They’re all I Have T 1,804 SERIES

Everything’s gone. And it’s all Danny’s fault. Or; Jason finds a teenager on a roof. He assumes the worst. Or, or; Danny’s always preferred being up high. And he wasn’t so surprised by the vigilante that stopped by. He seems nice. Danny’s sorry for scaring him

Brain Fried NR

Danny flees the GIW, crashing into a dumpster in Gotham. Lucky for him, another being like him finds him. Jason is confused and concerned.

And I Turn Away To See, Proud Evening Star T

Jason finds Danny in an alleyway soaking wet and definitely having a fever and well, adoption genes be kicking in

The Song Of Healing T 2,001

What if it wasn't the waters of the Lazarus Pitt alone that could heal someone back from the dead- but the creatures that lurk within them? Takes place during Jason's revival from the Lazarus Pitts.

To Join The Whispers T 55,630 SERIES

A contact for the Batfamily passed along a rumor that the League of Assassins were investigating a small city called Amity Park. The old man and Tim managed to find evidence of unusual paranormal activity in the town. While they weren’t entirely certain it wasn’t just infested with metas, the locals believed the entities that haunted, for lack of a better word, the town were actual ghosts. If there was one thing Ra’s al Ghul didn’t need to get his grubby hands on, it was ghosts. That’s probably why Jason was doing this. He had the unfortunate luck to experience both death and resurrection in a way he’d never recommend to anyone else.

At The Core T

Danny finds a guy with a rather sickly core. Thankfully Frostbite can probably help with that. Meanwhile the Bat family is worried that Jason has been missing for so long.

Shrodinger’s Bat NR SERIES

The dirt wasn’t packed in as it should be. These graves looked fresh. Danny counted five graves like this in total. One was an outlier. Two were suspicious. But five? Someone was digging up graves in Gotham. Nearly one year after the death of Jason Todd, Danny Fenton arrives in Gotham City. Why is he there? And what does it have to do with Jason?

Surprise Halloween Haunting NR 2,153

Halloween month was always chaotic for Gotham, especially for the vigilantes guarding her. This Halloween, the Batboys found themselves captured by some cult as sacrifices. Stripped off their gears and chained to a chair, Jason found himself calling for help to get out of the situation.

& TIM

Ghosts, Legacies, And CPS T

Vlad's latest and greatest plan to get Danny to be his son is really, stupidly simple. He called CPS. Annoyingly effective, Jazz began to look into their family tree to see where else Danny could go. One surprise set of adoption paperwork later reveals an entire lineage none of the Fentons knew about: the Drakes, of which the only surviving member is their cousin, Tim Drake. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so reaching out to Tim Drake it is. Meanwhile, Tim has been dealing with Ra’s al Ghul and a new player on the board calling themself Plasmius. Plasmius is a ghost, and a weird phone call reveals Tim’s related to ghost hunters, so obviously taking Danny in while CPS investigates the Fentons is just the logical outcome. Sure Bruce butts in, but ultimately, it just looks like an easy avenue for intel. Tim just didn’t anticipate Phantom and the utter chaos that comes with him.

Bones And All T

Tim comes along with Sebastian and some of his friends to a supposed haunted forest on the edge of Gotham City. They quickly find out that the forest really is haunted, but Tim comes to learn there's a much larger mystery at hand. And that mystery has to do with one Danny Fenton.

Teenage Hero Burnout #56: Interview With A Ghost. NR 2,881

Red Robin, (aka Tim Drake) decides to host a YouTube series called "Teenage Hero Burnout'' after he makes a video by the same name talking about his own experiences. He interviews current and past heroes who started their careers as teens and discuss how it shaped their outlook on heroing & life in general.

Phantom In Gotham T

On the run from his parents, Danny Fenton hides out in Gotham and catches the attention of the Bat family. Mishap after mishap leads Danny to be living on the streets, and going to school with Tim drake, who wonders about the strange new kid in his class. Will Bruce try to adopt another blue eyed black haired kid? Who knows!

Not Everyone Who Can Fight Is A Vigilante Or A Criminal G 1,461 SERIES

After a rogue attack on Gotham University’s campus, Danny and Tim notice that they both have impressive fighting skills. Danny suspects that Tim is a mob, while Tim suspects Danny is secretly a League of Shadows member and intends to gather more information about Danny.

I Can Feel My Body Shiver NR

Clockwork gives him a choice: to stay in the Infinite Realms and begin his term as the High King or to start fresh in another dimension. Danny is now living in Gotham. Even if it's definitely not a resort, he hopes he can finally find some peace so far from Amity Park. Of course, one particular bird notices him. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one.

A Bats Eye View NR 4,736 SERIES

Tims perspective from umm im an ambasador.

A Chill In The Batcave T

The Spirit of Gotham knows two things for sure… one, The Ghost King needed protection while he recovered and was able to form outside of his core. Two, The Dark Knight and his children were the best people to protect anything. So of course, she hides Danny’s core in the Batcave. Chaos and haunting ensues. Tim Drake is almost half certain that he didn’t used to hallucinate this much, even if he hasn’t slept in three days. And he was almost one hundred percent sure that they hadn’t gained another sibling while he was sleeping.

You're Gonna Be Sooo Haunted T

Tim Drake (aka red robin) accidentally "kills" a civilian while on patrol. Danny Fenton was not expecting to fall off a roof, but being the bored teen he was, decided it would be a great idea to mess with Gotham's vigilantes for a while.

TWINcognito Mode T 23,369

Danny, High King of the Infinite Realms, has been tricked into inhabiting the brainwashed and soulless clone of Tim Drake-Wayne. Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Industries and Red Robin, found a clone of himself that fought against Ra's brainwashing enough to request help. So Tim and Danny, upon both being cognizant enough to be on the same wavelength, looked at each other and decided hey; it's a free twin. Now how do we make that everyone elses problem?

A Successful Sacrifice T 3,065

Tim as Red Robin was killed when being sacrificed to summon Danny who was forced into his body

Serotonin M 3,388 SERIES

After his Accident, Danny had been prescribed antidepressants. He... might not have taken them. It hadn't been a problem until Bruce found out about them. Tim feels the aftermath more keenly than he'd cared to admit.

The Haunting Of Drake Manor T SERIES

Timothy Drake, son of amateur archaeologists, comes into possession of an antique oil lamp. It's plain enough, despite it's historic value— and it takes nothing at all to figure out how to light it. Alone on his birthday and left alone with a flame, Tim makes a wish. Desiree wakes up in the corpse of a human woman.

Creation Both Haunted And Holy G 11,449 SERIES

After looking into a new tourist family in Gotham, Tim finds himself in unexpected situation. Or, the Fenton's visit Gotham and try to build a ghost portal. It goes as well as you think it would.

A Little Overshadowing Never Hurt Anyone T SERIES

Danny gets kidnapped by the Batfam and seeks a way out, a little overshadowing never hurt anyone, right?

& ALFRED

Life Assurance T 7,206

Danny has inherited all contracts made with Pariah Dark but doesn’t know it until he finds himself pulling a bullet out of Bruce Wayne. In which Danny now has to negotiate with a old man over a life assurance policy he purchased.

Glimpse Of A Lifetime G

After years of working for the Waynes, age is finally catching up with the butler. Alfred mind seems to be elsewhere, and he begins to forget important things. Bruce refuses to accept that and seeks every possible solution. When he is about to give up he stumbles with an ancient legend: The Yeti

A Comet’s Flare NR 1,582

When Alfred hears a knock on the Manor doors, he thinks nothing of it. Bruce is still at WE for a little longer and the children of the manor at school, so he opens the heavy doors to tell the guest as such and take a message. Alfred could not tell you what it was that made his mouth dry out and his steps falter. But he could tell you with certainty that it had something to do with the way he did not gasp or feel his heart stutter in his chest. Instead, Alfred feels a wave of melancholy wash over him and steps aside to gesture the man in. “Would you like some tea, sir?” Perhaps this was a conversation that needed tea. He’d been putting it off for so long now.

Of Children And Tea Parties G 5,792 SERIES

Alfred Pennyworth is grateful that the Wayne family wasn't murdered. He is very willing to work with Bruce to lure their savior into a warm and safe home. But does the silent child want to come?

They Might Be Giants G 4,397

Alfred Pennyworth receives a phone call and is given custody over his recently orphaned nephew Danny Fenton.

Rock In The Churning Sea G

Alfred is a constant, in the mansion. That’s a given. A staple of life, a steady rock, there whenever he’s needed. What few know, however, is just how much of a constant he actually is in that mansion. For there’s only few who know he’s died.

Hold Down The (Blanket) Fort G 1,062 SERIES

Alfred finds his grandson awake later than he ought to be. Danny has a sweet reason why.

How To Adopt, The Bruce Wayne Way By Alfred Pennyworth G 1,879

Step One, Find a child. Step Two...

& DICK

Flying Grason And Circus Gothica G 4,934

There's a new circus in town and the batfam surprise Dick by taking him to go see it. He wants to enjoy it, really he does. It's just that, he can't shake the feeling that the boy on the tightrope isn't performing willingly

Here Lies Daniel James Fenton NR 4,284 SERIES

"You killed a man…" Danny twisted his mouth in distaste; that statement wasn't quite right.

"My Friend killed a man." He got the same tight-lipped smile with dead eyes as before.

"You killed a man." This statement was punctuated with a sharp nod as if the man had solved a tricky problem.

Phoenix Down T SERIES

Danny is Dick's son. Neither take it very well, when they find out.

The Firstborn Son T 7,500

Danny Phantom, a somewhat established ruler of the Ghost Zone, has unwittingly acquired a baby. And. Well. He can't exactly keep it in Pariah's Keep. He's no parent, not to mention the huge problem of how the air and sky destabilize human cellular structure. It would be convenient to have the baby's other parent take care of it... assuming that the man is entirely innocent of the plan to sell their offspring for immortality. There has to be a way to prove that the man is safer than the home the baby comes from. ...But the man has his own ward. Hm. Danny can exploit this. What's an assessment without a little test?

The Haunting Habit Of Adoption G 4,073

Dick Grayson is Bruce Wayne's newest foster kid, and he is determined to convince Batman to let him be a vigilante. An unexpected visit from estranged son Damian and his surprise guest gives him the chance to change his mind.

Loli-Kolinaki T

Danny doesn't remember much before he was adopted. But he remembers the Drop. God, he's beginning to remember the drop. Or, where Danny knew Desiree far, far better than before.

Bludhaven's Ghost T

After he fails to save his family and friends in the nasty burger explosion, Danny Fenton runs from Amity to prevent his inevitable future. He finds himself in Bludhaven.

Grave Promises T 53,882

Danny Fenton had nowhere to go and no one he could turn to without putting them in danger. Except, perhaps, the hero who'd cared for, respected, and trained Danny for all too short a time. Dick Grayson had never told anyone he'd once been trapped in the Ghost Zone. He'd also never forgotten the promise he'd made sure to get from Danny Phantom. Jason didn’t know what was going on but he was really very pissed that there was another kid with a y-shaped scar on their chest and eyes that feel like frozen reflections of home. Thankfully, there were suddenly several new targets for his rage and Dick seemed rather more inclined to join Jason than stop him.

There’s Blood In The Water T

Danny, injured from a reveal gone horribly wrong, leaves Amity Park. Nightwing finds a kid bleeding out in an alley.

Myosotis T SERIES

In which the one-and-only Danny Phantom gets amnesia, a new city to protect, some other vigilante friends, and a slightly-overprotective father figure. Nightwing gets premature gray hairs

What Makes A Home (And Other Thoughts From Fever Dreams) T

Dick finds a strange scene on patrol one night; the small form of dying girl huddled in a corner and covered in Lazuras Pit green. He and his family work together to try and save her, but her consciousness dwindles to less and less each day and the time spent awake only provides more questions. Will they work out the mystery surrounding their new guest or will she be forced to say goodbye forever in a unfamiliar bed, surrounded by strangers?

& DAMIAN

Robin's Egg T

While out on nightly patrol, Robin finds a very injured Danny Phantom who is about to be forced back into his core. Now that the ghost boy is entirely defenseless, how is Damien going to protect the core from others? And even harder... how is going to keep Phantom's existence unknown to his family?

When The Ghost King Moves To Gotham City T

Danny is taking a break from being Ghost King 24/7 so he moves to Gotham to help some ghosts and go sightseeing. However, he is now helping a little Bird spread their wings.

Wait A Second T 18,844 SERIES

Danny gets mistaken for Damian at the mall, shenanigans ensue. Meanwhile Damian gets mistaken for Danny at the mall, chaos ensues.

I'd Punch People For You Any Day Of The Week, As Long As You Keep Bringing Those Cookies And Little Baggies Of Fruit Leather And Roll-Ups, Because I Have No Will-Power When It Comes Sugar T SERIES

Danny punches some kid for Damian. Damian approves of this new development. Bruce is tired and worried AND suspicious. Not a great combination. Dan just wants people to stop picking on his younger brother/younger self/past self/it's complicated.

How To Acquire A Ghost T 1,916

Damian jokes he has a new pet. Danny might have a new home.

Danny Kidnaps Damian (Not Actually) T

Danny doesn't like being summoned, especially by the league of assassins. Those guys suck. If you're going to summon an all powerful entity at least do it right. A sandwich or something would be nice. He still wouldn't do their bidding anyway but it's the thought that counts. The one time he mentioned this to the league they offered him a child. Well. If they're offering Danny's gonna get the kid out of there. I mean really. Who in their right mind would offer him a child without laying out parameters. It was insulting really.

FENTONS MEET THE WAYNES

Vacation Crashers T 91,237 SERIES

Batman crashes in the wilderness following up a lead in a recent case. Meanwhile the Fenton family was having a camping trip to celebrate Jazz's last year as a "kid", but considering who suggested the location, it spelt disaster. Now Danny and Jazz have to survive an onslaught of ghosts, take care of an injured Batman, and while worrying about their parents.

Family Bonding And Other Perilous Pursuits G

It started with Casper High failing to fail, resulting in winning the Thomas & Martha Wayne contest despite their best efforts not to, causing them to spend the summer as interns in Gotham. According to Danny, the miserable expirence ended after he spent the whole summer getting kidnapped because the average Gothomite was blind and couldn't tell apart a sixteen from a thirteen year old which went to it's logical extreme of him putting the Joker on life support after the clown stabbed Damian Wayne and his whole class nearly getting adopted by the Red Hood after they somehow took out the Russian mafia. According to the birth certificate Bruce found, this was still very much the beginning and why oh why did he always get surprise relationships?! And no he was not panicking, shut up dear children. The only one not freaking out is Damian who is eager to finally have a blood family member(s?) he doesn't have to worry about trying to kill him or usurp his place as the blood son.

Going Rogue! G

The Fentons visit Gotham for a spot of summer research. It goes about as well as you'd expect...

The City Never Makes Us Beg G 2,661

The Nightingales appear in the Bowery one day in the summer. There had been no moving truck, no arduous trips carrying boxes and furniture up the five flights of stairs to their apartment, no picking up keys from the super. There hadn’t been any paperwork done either, for that matter. They had simply appeared, fully settled into an apartment that had been empty for three years. The Nightingales moved to the Bowery one day in the summer. Hauling up furniture and boxes the five stories of steps to their apartment. The one they'd been lucky to get thanks to a mistake that hadn't been caught until it was too late. A broken family, trying to put the pieces back together after hardship, keep their heads down, get through the days. Same as anyone else this side of the city. There was no reason to pay much attention, save perhaps Jason's interest in tall women with red hair that looked like they could throw him across the street. The Nightingales were a normal family. Gotham made sure of it.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #long post #fic rec

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onyourhyuck · 1 year ago

Text

Bad Habits. | H.RJ

— Prologue: “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

— Summary: Your boyfriend Renjun offered to blow dry your wet hair, what could go wrong?

— Genre: Smut. Smut. Smut. Boyfriend!Renjun. Kind of cute. Renjun has an obsession to kiss y/n’s neck. Blowdrying hair. Protected sex. Renjun’s love for y/n’s chest. Teasing. Soft mild choking. Fingering receiving (f) Consensual. many many climaxes. Nickname used ‘Baby’ a lot.

— Notes: I might be in my renjun smut era rn.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You let the hot water run down your back all the way from your short thick hair. You enjoy the warmth and the steam building in the bathroom. It’s always nice to come home and have a relaxing evening showering especially after such a stressful day at work. Your boyfriend, Renjun, prepared the shower for you actually. He let it ran so you can have the hot water running. He even got the towel and clothes ready and then he left to let you have your own privacy and time to shower properly. Renjun loves to do a lot of things for you even though you don’t ask him to do anything he just ends up doing it for you anyways.

You tend to appreciate these small gestures the most whenever you’re feeling drained and tired. You don’t really like to show or express that you’re having a hard time. So when your boyfriend can sense your feelings through your moods you find it easier to show you’re struggling.

Your job can be very time consuming which then puts a slight strain on your relationship with Renjun. He wants to do many things with you but your job tends to prevent that. You’re a very dedicated worker to your job.

You may love your job but sometimes it can be hard to keep up with it. Even if it is just paperwork. It’s still a lot to do even if people assume at first thay papers aren’t that much of a hard thing to do. It’s more or less time consuming.

Either way you’re home now and you don’t want to think about work anymore so you finish your shower and head out with the towel wrapped around you. You would change in the bedroom. You take your time applying body lotion and then your own skin care routine on your face. You need to moisturise your skin with the products you bought. Once the pyjamas embrace your beautiful curvy figure you sat down on the bed looking in the mirror. You feel refreshed from the shower. Renjun really was right it did help you feel better. As if the weight was lifted off your chest.

The bedroom door opens with Renjun peeking in a little and when he saw you and your damp hair he tilts his head a little. “You still haven’t blow dry your hair Y/n. You’ll get sick if you leave it like this.” You heard him say with a small nagging voice but you didn’t mind it.

You knew he cared for your well-being slightly more than you do for yourself. You gently roll your eyes. “I’ll get on it now then.” You stand up to get the box out with the hairdryer however a hand stops you from moving any further from the bed.

Renjun shakes his head. “I’ll do it for you.” He then said getting the box out putting it next to you on your bed and you look up with a little smile. He really doesn’t want you to work too much at home knowing you’re tired. “Can i blow dry your hair for you?”

Now he was asking you with something glistening behind his eyes and you’re not sure what that was. It almost resembles a fallen star in his eyes that you saw glisten away. Your expression of surprise makes Renjun feel like his words took you to another level of comfort and happiness when he asked if he could blow dry your hair for you. It’s like you didn’t expect him to go the extra mile for you. Renjun would do anything if it can mean you didn’t have to do anything. Heck. He would do everything and you can just be taken care of like the princess you are. Renjun wouldn’t want it any other way for you.

You take a while to figure out what to say but you reckon you can just give him a nod and he would take it as a yes. “Sure you can.” You say with a small shy smile. You never really had anyone drying your hair for you so this might be an experience you think. Renjun saw your permission and his face lit up.

It’s like he’s been waiting to do this for you before. Renjun plugs everything in. The blow dry device powers up and Renjun softly runs his hands through your wet short damp hair. He enjoys to run his hand through it because of how silky and thick it feels when it’s dry. But when it’s wet it’s a clump that he still find’s beautiful. Every inch of you feels responsible for the way his love grows for you even more. Renjun was only bewitched when the cold wet hair slides down the fingers as he starts to now turn on the hairdryer. The hot air blows your hair in different directions, his hands slid up to your roots and down the edges of your strands.

Your eyes close in the pleasant breeze that feels like a valley passing in your mind. The sensation of someone else stirring the arms rotating around the hot air to your damp hair as their fingers slip like growing spring around your scalp makes you feel some type of way; relaxation? Maybe. Perhaps it was the fact that you feel like you are being treated with care. The way your boyfriend’s wrist was so gently when it moved and pushed your hair aside to get every part of your hair to dry up and not be wet from your shower.

It felt too good. You never thought a simple thing like this could make you feel even more at home than you already were feeling like.

Renjun might be your home. Maybe he makes home feel like home to you now.

Your boyfriend smiles when he saw your smiling expression as your eyes were closed shut enjoying how his hands feel around your scalp trying to massage every area so they can dry up. He doesn’t want you to go to bed with damp hair at all. It’s not the most comfortable thing either. Nor is it healthy. Renjun’s smile mimics yours and he cannot help but watch and observe you. He takes every chance to admire you no matter what even when you’re not looking at him, that’s when Renjun takes his opportunity the most.

The eyes fell down like a marble stone falling on the ground between two drainages pipes when he saw the sight of your beautiful glowing neck. In his eyes he feels like this was his favourite part of you. Your neck. Renjun might have a slight admiration for it to the point it might be like he has a massive crush on it. Not because of how beautiful it looks. It’s because he knows how much it gets you going with a rollercoaster of emotions.

The most simplest of touches he could do to your neck would feel like he had you pinned against a brick wall. That’s how much you react whenever your neck comes into contact with something.

Renjun love it though. He can smell your hair and your body lotion you applied from your neckline. He was very close and it makes his heartbeat a little knowing you’re relaxing right now and he’s here trying to not get any urges and thoughts right there and then.

You look too irresistible to not be kissed though. Renjun eventually said screw it in his head and when your hair was a little more dry now, his lips found a way around the back of your nape and placing a small kiss on it. The small kiss was very soft and noticeable. It feels like lavender sprouting from the roots.

Then the kiss on the nape turns into more kisses on the sides of your neckline and then eventually spreading even more across your neck to the front which had your heart skipping a beat from the first pointer kiss he did.

Your voice came out a little better though slight hitch to the tone which your boyfriend took heard notice of. “Renjun…?”

It was a mixture of confusion and surprise. Renjun kissed now a little more deeply but still keeping the relaxed vibe you guys are in. The whole bedroom had a very chill atmosphere and he wasn’t doing anything too much to scare you off. He knows you’re tired. Renjun can feel it on your body muscles. They’re finally relaxed and no longer tense, he wouldn’t want to do anything else than to have you feel loved in the moment.

All Renjun was thinking about was how pretty you sound when he continued to kiss you. He travels up kissing your jawline as he’s still sitting behind you with the warm hairdryer on his lap attached to the nearby plug on the wall next to your bed that you both are on.

He whispers to your ear as he gently and lovingly placed a kiss on it too. “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

Your boyfriend drag alongside your neck his lips whispering series of sweet nothings. The sequences had you rolling your tongue at the top of your mouth roof when he pressed another sweet and peppering kiss on your smooth skin. “To kiss and to be close to you like this… I’ve missed you.”

Your body betrays you quickly knowing it was your boyfriend making you feel this way, so out of breath as if you ran for miles upon miles. It was one of those things that your body could never get used to. Renjun’s kisses, words, the way he spoke to you with the tone of his voice. It’s too much you found yourself loving it all too well.

You found yourself giving in too quickly than you’d like to imagine. It wasn’t long till Renjun’s lips kissed the corner of your lips which then made you fully engulf yourself in kissing him back now. You closed your eyes and breathed in as he lets out a sigh practically groaning now that you kissed him. It felt so foreign to him nowadays. It’s been too long than he’d like to admit since he kissed you like this. You pull yourself around and Renjun’s hands slither round your waist dragging you across the bed as you let him pull you down on your back, the kiss never once breaking away.

It’s been too long because you swore you neglected him to the point he didn’t give you a single break from the kiss. It was too long that it had your face feeling like you might melt like magma. Or until the point you’re seeing stars written on the ceiling. Renjun nibbles quietly on your bottom lip while finally he pulls to give you a fresh new look on his face as he saw your eyes closing to regain back your view. You were too close to nearly passing out from the lack of oxygen he stole from you.

But he pulls at the right minute to keep you asking for more. To keep you guessing for more. Renjun lowers himself down just above your chest as he kissed your cheek now beginning to ask you. “Baby do you think i have to stretch you out? It’s been too long since we did it.” He lets his eyes practically eat you alive when he’s watching your body like this. You let out a soft groan, his hands run down your spine and under your shirt ready to strip it away from your wonderful figure.

Renjun’s bad habit is definitely not being able to be patient enough for you. When he wants something he needs it immediately. You’re one of those things that Renjun cannot be patient for enough because he wants to experience it with you. And let you experience him as much as possible too. This might be the result of his feelings for you however, they’re far too intense you can barely stand in front of him.

You groan in reply. “Maybe stretch me out with your fingers.” Your hands slip off your lower pyjamas and Renjun took the host pleasure to position his finger around your straps to the panties and slid them down to your ankles. He smiles looking down at your pussy region as he strums his thumb on your clit before pushing in the index finger now. He saw you bite your bottom lip already and Renjun can feel how tight you are. He definitely needed to stretch you out. It felt too much already that you feel like consuming all of Renjun’s pleasure. Renjun didn’t stop until he at least give you one orgasm by his fingers. He never continues and puts you above himself too.

Even though he is very impatient he’s never impatient when it comes to putting you first above his own pleasure and needs.

You felt your eyes clench around the ceiling above as you’re feeling the pleasure reach to your own bones. It pulses you to leak and now your own high washed over you. Renjun was satisfied to hear you moaning his name and practically plead him to already take you. He whispers reaching with his face to kiss your own mouth again. “You did so well for me, baby.”

You’re so weak to him and his praise.

Your boyfriend slips himself inside your folds and your heat once he put on the condom wrapping around his shaft that pumps inside and outside of your velvety bars has him feeling like he was on cloud nine. Your expression was scrunching up as you reach enlightenment with your boyfriend thrusting inside and outside of you in such graceful ways. Renjun’s pelvis reaches your inner thighs as he grabs around your waist wrapping his arms on your back as he pulls you closer to the lavishing light he caused your body to feel. This feeling couldn’t be described in words just like how Renjun cannot describe such a perfect girl like you beneath him getting her hole fixed with his cock deep inside you looking so incredibly beautiful.

How can anyone compare to you? No one can.

Renjun vows you’re going to get him hooked more and more. Your folds squeezing and squelch which has his eyes roll and your boyfriend slips out a groan between your perky breasts as he licks round his tongue teasingly around the very top. “Do you feel good baby? Is this what you needed after a long day of work?” He spoke so kindly though his body wasn’t matching it. Your body was squished between his ruthless thrusts.

You neglected him for too long because you can feel this was almost like his way of releasing all the pent up frustrations.

You bury your head further into your pillow as your spine arches like a bridge. Renjun loves when you do this between his fast and jabbing thrusts. It feels like you were feeling everything tan times more intensely. Your lips fell apart like ice. “S-So good… oh please don’t stop.” You now plead.

You’re not sure why you’re pleading because your boyfriend wasn’t planning to stop anyways.

You must’ve been seeing stars when your many orgasms has been approaching. Perhaps you already came too many times you didn’t even realise it. It was so good that Renjun must’ve had your hole screaming at him to slow down but he couldn’t as he was taking everything in too fast with his brain.

Your hands clench in a balling fist and your toes curl when Renjun whispers to your ears. “You know this is your fault I’m acting like this.” Your eyes widen when he told you it’s your reasoning for all of this happening and you wanted to speak, but the many moans you swallowed came out.

He trails down the kisses from the forehead and down your temples. “You wanna know why? Because you’re my Bad Habit.”

Your neck was looking too good from the angle he was in pushing inside of you deeply where he knew you had limitless space. His hands sweep their way in holding and caressing your neck as he continues to thrust within your pussy that you find yourself getting addicted to how his cock was making you feel; utterly weak and high.

You are the very bad habit he has. Renjun cannot do anything without you anymore and it’s all because of you making it hard not to fall in love with you even more.

He blames you for this, he cannot get enough now. It was like a trap all along and Renjun was your fallen victim. You clench around his shaft as he said this. He reminds you how deep his love is for you and your eyes dilate when you feel his member twitch deeply within your folds.

Through the condom fabric you sense a filling packet now and you just knew he had a sudden climax when Renjun hung his head between your shoulders. He took a moment to final thrust within you and his voice was breaking like a broken tape on record player.

He grunts and you feel his hands tighten around the embrace has you inside as if you were his precious jewel.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” You heard your boyfriend say quietly as the voice was trembling by how good you consumed him all.

You feel Renjun letting out a deeply mournful sigh full of enchanting pleasure when he pulls out off you with the condom. You watch him wrap it up and he looks back at you finding your gaze to be watery and dilated pupils, it makes you look like a princess in his eyes though.

He could tell he did a good job pleasuring you and it makes him proud. And your beauty never leaves no matter what state you’re in.

You whisper. “I’m your bad habit?” You let out a little giggle though because you find yourself liking that you’re his bad habit in a way.

Renjun grins leaning down. “Mhm that you are.” You watch him hover above your figure now as you guys were resting now with your steady heartbeats returning to their normal pace. He looks down at your kissable lips and so he lowers down only a little to give it a peck. You hear him speak as he did this. “You’re all my Bad Habits.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this Fic and Follow me for more it helps a girl out. <3

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celestiamour · 7 months ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ one victory after a loss ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @lokotrona11 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. peter pevensie x gn! reader — prince caspian, the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ you return to aslan’s how after peter assumed that you died during the telmarine castle night raid┊1.7k words (prt one)

setting: the telmarine age (prince caspian) contains: hurt/comfort!! established relationship, mentions of death & battle, grieving, peter cries, mentions of anxiety from being king, cuddling

➤ author's note: peter pevensie uee eu ee ueue uuehh ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ he currently controls my heartbeat eueh uueee uueuuue (థ ﹏ థ)

prehaps it’s a good thing that animals don’t talk anymore since convincing a telmarine horse to switch alliances and help you escape would have taken longer than the actual escape process. the thundering galloping sounds alerted some guards, but you quickly lost them in the thick woods by trusting your steed to guide you around the thicket as it was pitch black and all you could do was steer it in the direction of the camp. even if you were only locked up for six hours and put all of your focus on breaking out, the fresh air was invigorating compared to the musty dungeons and you couldn’t help but close your eyes to enjoy the ride as you arrived at your destination.

peter had long retreated into your shared tent away from the others with dull, weary, and bloodshot eyes from silently shedding tears for most of the night. he felt completely numb aside from the slow streams of saltwater dripping down his face and a stinging sensation every time he tried to blink them away, not even an ice-cold shower was enough to shake him from his thoughts. his siblings have tried to console him that you would come back to them and that he just needed to give you time, but the sun was starting to rise on the horizon and he could only fear for the worst. it would take a miracle for anyone to make it out alive when getting swarmed by enemies, even a skilled swordsman like yourself wouldn’t be able to survive when miraz said that nobody would be spared— not even his own men who unintentionally got in the way.

he couldn’t help but dream of some sort of way to rewrite the sequence of events that unfolded over the past twelve hours, knowing that there was no such magic that could turn back time so simply and that he had to deal with the fact that his plan didn’t play out half as well as he thought it would have. his mind was playing different scenarios of something he could have done to save you, anything that could have been done that would end with you being with him right now and to prevent the suffering of the narnians who also lost someone dear to them.

it was beginning to settle in that the last moment he spent with you was a kiss on the cheek and a comment to be careful, never considering that it would have been possible for one of you to die when invading the castle. he wished that he could at least have told you that he loved you, but instead, you were left to die alone at the hands of the telmarines without anyone to save you. once again, he found himself losing all hope and spiraling back to the mindset that it was all his fault, that he could no longer rule like he used to after abandoning his kingdom a thousand years ago (even if it was an accident). he wasn’t fit to be your lover, much less fit to lead the remaining few—

“they’re back! they’re back! they’re alive, peter!” his head snapped up at the cheerful voice of lucy that interrupted the haze of his grieving, shocked at the unbelievable sight of his youngest sister dragging his lover whom he previously assumed to be dead into his tent. she was always a light sleeper, bolting out of her slumber as soon as she heard the guards allowing you into the camp after confirming that you weren’t an enemy with your unfamiliar stallion. “i’ll give you guys some time alone,” she declared, allowing you to thank her and exiting as you approached your king.

he was such a wreck, a broken man who looked up at you from the edge of the bed as if he wasn’t sure if you were really there or just a hallucination his grief-stricken mind conjured up. you somewhat hoped for him to have more faith in you, but you knew that just the notion of you being gone would have him sick with worry. edmund already told you all about how they spent a year in a world you didn’t know of and how peter’s biggest regret was confessing his affection too late. it must have been such a roller coaster of emotions for him: beginning to court you, unintentionally leaving you behind, coming back excited to see you, believing that you had died thousands of years ago, finding you frozen in time like he never left, thinking you died in battle, and now finding out that you were alive… most of it happened within the span of a week, and he probably wasn’t sure how much of it he could take.

you approached him slowly like he was a wounded animal, reaching out to gently hold his face in your hands and wiping away the new tears resembling crystals forming with the pad of your thumbs. “oh, my dearest king… dry your eyes, you know there’s nothing i hate more than seeing you cry…”

hearing your voice made him crack, wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you onto his lap to bury his face in your shoulder even though you were still clothed in metal. “thank aslan, you’re safe… i’m not sure what i would have done if you weren’t…” he didn’t care for the discomfort when your mere presence was a luxury for him, and neither did you when he was actively trembling in your arms. he always had a bad habit of repressing his feelings into a bottle until the cork popped off, refusing to show any weakness to his people and just breaking down in private while only showing this side to your or rarely his siblings. these spells have been steadily getting worse as of late, causing him to collapse under the pressure. seeing him like this almost made you selfishly wish that he never returned even if the remnants of narnia became ravaged by the telmarines and you never awoken from your eternal slumber, only if it meant for him to live out his youth carefree without the weight of the crown on his brow.

you parted with him momentarily to remove your armor once he seemed to calm down from the high of emotions, joking that he shouldn’t stare at you so intently while you were changing to ease the mood (even though he didn’t look away from you for even a second, you didn’t mind in the least since it’s not like it was anything he hadn’t seen already. it was almost as if he wanted to keep an eye on you in fear that you would disappear from his sight). it’s been a long night for both of you after all that’s transpired and it was high time you both got some sleep, even if it was for only an hour or two before his presence might be expected by the others. “come on now, you need to get some rest, and i desperately need a shower— i can’t believe you hugged me like that when i reek so badly.”

he finally managed to let a meek smile grace his handsome features, alleviating any remaining anxieties you might have had about him and left to take a quick bath in a nearby stream. there was barely anyone out there aside from a few stragglers getting water for morning routines, greeting you out of courtesy before leaving to give you some privacy. the stream poured over your body soothed your sore muscles and healed the minor cuts littering your skin, relaxing all tension and allowing you to think more clearly even though you were so exhausted you could pass out on the spot. truly, this was a magical land with magical properties flowing throughout every breeze of wind and drop of water.

lucy had told you earlier that while peter was stressing out over your disappearance, everyone else had full confidence that you would be perfectly alright with your set of skills. it’s not that he had no faith in you, he trusts in most who fight along his side and recognize all of their talents whether physical or intellectual, but he can’t help but feel apprehensive regarding you or his siblings. there might not be anything that could ever mitigate his uneasy attitude when it’s been melded into him from an early age, but it’s almost comforting to know that your partner is a good man who cares for his loved ones so much.

once you quickly dried off, changed, and then went back to the tent, you found the blonde still awake waiting for you, “i thought I told you to get some sleep.”

“i was waiting for you.” there was a little playfulness in his voice, like a child who was caught doing something they shouldn’t have knowing that there would be no punishment.

all you could do was sigh affectionately at peter pevensie being peter pevensie again and climb into the bed with him, pushing him down on his back and laying on your side to pull him closer to your chest, ruffling through his blonde locks and kissing his puffy eyes. “close your eyes and sleep, i’ll still be here when you open them again.”

it wasn’t often that he let himself be coddled by you, but he permitted it this time. enveloped in your warmth with the steady thumping of your heart brought him peace, knowing that you were alive, well, and reunited by side. the drowsiness hit him all at once, slipping away to a dreamless sleep in your arms after whispering a quick word of his love for you— a word of love that he was grateful to tell you once more and hoped for millions more to come.

(at some point, edmund came to check up on his brother and found the two of you sleeping soundly, not having the heart to wake either of you up and just letting you guys stay like that well into the morning. his sisters were very pleased to hear that and had a little giggle about the high king’s soft spot for you when you alone could comfort him when no one else could. the other narnians also had their spirits lifted upon seeing their leaders smile again. it was a new day under aslan’s watchful eyes.)

#📜. her works #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia x reader #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia #narnia x reader #narnia fanfiction #peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader

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aheathen-conceivably · 5 months ago

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Far atop the dusty downtown of Strangerville stood what felt like a different world. During the decades of the gold rush Eastern settlers had flooded the town and the settlements around it, displacing the people of the land even further as they dug into it for their own ends. The ones who succeeded ended up here, in Shady Acres, where they could look atop the empire they drilled into the ground.

Now, most of the houses sat abandoned, left to the disrepair of time and the harsh desert sands as the promise of ever greater riches took their owners further West to California and Oregon. There were little signs of life on the streets other than a lone truck making its way up the hillside, inhabited by two people who still weren’t quite comfortable being alone together anymore.

Gio directed Jo to pull to the edge of the cliff face, overlooking the town they had just driven from. She struggled to get the turn just right, but it was better than her other practice attempts, so he gave her a quiet smile of approval as she shifted the gear into park. Even from inside the metal truck they could hear the wind howling. It had been their constant companion on these near silent journeys up this road the past few weeks.

He knew that the road further West was filled with places like this, miles and miles of winding curves and jaw dropping heights that would take a steady hand on the wheel. Antoine had taken one look inside the car and immediately refused to learn how to drive it. So burying whatever remaining fears and anger he had deep inside, Gio had gotten in the passenger seat with Jo and offered to teach her how to drive.

With every lesson, he knew that he was essentially giving her the tools she needed to leave him, the one thing he had been so afraid of that he was willing to lie and cheat to prevent it from happening. Now he felt like all he could do was sit by hope every inch he gave or silent acquiescence would serve to bind her closer to him rather than push her further away. Still in the back of his mind his fears kept nagging, so much so that as the day for her to leave came closer he couldn’t stay quiet anymore.

The wind kept howling, threatening to drown out his voice as he reached toward her. “Jo, mi raccomando…”

She braced herself for the same apology about his lie over the loan that she already had memorized. What more did he want her to say? She had stayed, hadn’t she? Stayed outwardly for Violette but really, quietly and inwardly, for all of them. Because she loved them all, but more than anything, because she loved him.

Only how was she supposed to tell him that? That she had fought back every instinct to leave so that she could stay with him, even if the price to pay to do so was that she would never trust him again. Because he had shown her that she had been wrong about him. He could hurt her, just as well as any other man she had ever known could. Except now that she had let him inside, now that she loved him, he could hurt her all the more. So she had to compensate somehow, to regain some sort of ground to stand on or she would be left weak to him doing it all over again.

“You don’t need to answer, okay?” Her head stayed turned just as he knew it would, and her hand went to the wheel as though the steady the car from the roar of the desert wind. It grew stronger as his voice grew more emotional, shaking the car and whipping across the top of the mesa.

“I can’t make you forgive me for any of what happened, but I’m sorry I didn’t support you and Antoine going on tour, or even really put you in the position where you could have chosen to do it for yourself and not to save us from some choice I made. I just…every time you walk out the door I’m afraid you won’t come home, that you’ll find someone or something else and I’ll never see you again.”

The sun was hitting directly in her eyes, mingling there with the stinging of tears that she tried her hardest to hold back. Only it was too bright, and she couldn’t possibly fight it, so one small tear after another rolled down her face while she stayed staring at it.

Whatever else he said after that was inconsequential as she let the sunbeams dry her unexpected tears; because he had already broken through her carefully constructed armor, made brittle by anger, restlessness, and love. But he couldn’t know that, or it would make everything she had done up to this point meaningless. The portion of the farm that was now hers, betraying Antoine, Zelda’s pained resolve, Violette’s angry confusion. She endured it all in some effort to regain control and hope for her own life; only it was so tenuous that she was convinced a few stray tears could undermine it all, so she made sure her face was completely dry before she turned to face him.

By the time she did so he had gone quiet and only a sliver of his profile could be seen. The rest of him was pretending to study the desert landscape, visibly struggling to adhere to his promise that he wouldn’t speak again until she answered him.

As it always did in moments like this, his vulnerability astounded her. He had meant every word he said, and he had spoken them without pause, trusting her to meet him halfway despite her track record of never having done so before. He had signed over a portion of his lease with a clenched fist only to climb into the passenger seat of his own truck, giving patient instructions with an anxious edge as she drove them further and further from town. Every choice he had made was in pursuit of some twisted idea of love, all the while she was guided by some nebulous idea of strength, the undeniable compulsion to never feel trapped again even if her own love had tried to temper it time and time again.

Jo reached over to touch his face and turn it toward her own. He gave no hesitation as he leaned into her touch, no questions and no judgement for the streaks on her face that must have still been visible from up so close. “Gio, look at me. I’m going to come home, okay?”

She left out that she wished this wasn’t home, some place she had no connection to or hope for, one filled with harsh desert winds barely keeping failed dreams afloat. A land of drought and struggle so incessant that it had almost worn down even her will. Some days it still felt like it was trying to accomplish what it nearly had when she was afloat in that bed, miserable and useless.

But shielded from it all inside the confines of his truck, with only his earnest expression and kind but well worn hands to anchor her down, suddenly it did feel like home. Or at least he did. So in a rare moment, she spoke without a single ounce of pretense or calculation, letting the need to keep herself in control float away on the howling wind. “I promise you, I’m always going to come home. No matter what.”

#1934 #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Josephine Duplanchier #Giorgio Mistretta

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heys0ulmate · 2 months ago

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veneration (this faith's got me high)

pairing: sofia falcone/gigante x f!reader

summary: sofia isn't the same anymore- but you've waited too long for her to care.

warnings: uhh .. unnegotiated/dubcon, gun usage, slight bondage, passing out, im sure im missing stuff, not proofread, major abuse of italics sorry lmao

word count: 4.6K

A/N: this is the first part of what i PLAN to be a series, tho im not sure when the next part(s) will be out. i legitimately havent published a fic in over a decade so im sorry that its like. poorly structured LOL. not much smut in this one sorry yall. title from holy by zolita btw. also this was posted prematurely by accident cus it was still in my drafts but oh well

〰️

You don't recognize the room you're in, but you feel no danger. All you feel is giddiness and bliss.

There's something warm next to you. Sofia.

Her red, pretty lips are moving, corners curled up slightly, but you can't hear her. You laugh despite the fact, because it feels right. The joy in your chest overwhelming.

She's closer, now. You're laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. It's getting hard to breathe.

Sofia cups your face. She looks scared, but you still can't hear what she's saying. You can't speak- all you can do is laugh and choke for air.

The room changes.

It's crowded.

You spot Sofia from across the galley.

Something in you tells you to run to her, as fast as you can, like you'll die if you don't. It's an all-consuming type of panic, the inability to breathe slowly creeping back.

You push past the crowd, but the more progress you make, the larger the room seems to grow.

The crowd parts, and you see her. She's leaving the room, hand in hand with her father. Her lips are parted in a scream that you still can't hear.

"Sofia!" You shriek, running as fast as you can now that the people have cleared a path.

You're inches away from Sofia and the grip her father has on her when you suddenly hear her voice loud and clear from behind you.

"She's not here anymore."

You bolt up from your bed, gasping for air and flailing under your blanket, desperately trying to wrestle it off.

It takes a minute to gather your bearings.

"Shit," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your eyes.

It shouldn't phase you. You can't remember a single night in the past ten goddamn years that you haven't woken up from a some sort of dream-turned nightmare about Sofia. But something about this one seemed to stick to you like summer heat, an uncomfortable, lingering sensation that seems to amplify the harder you try to ignore it.

"She's not here anymore."

It rings through your head like a catchy song as you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water.

In the ten years since Sofia was taken from you, you haven't heard her voice even once. You weren't allowed visitation as a non-family member, and phone calls were prohibited for the same reason.

It was almost if the sanctions had carried over into your psyche, some form of cruel punishment that prevented you from hearing her even in your dreams.

At least you were able to see her at night.

You'd never grown used to the inevitable, debilitating dread that suffocated you each time you awoke, but you still looked forward to falling asleep each night, knowing it'd grant you a brief illusion of having Sofia by your side again.

"She's not here anymore."

You try not to think to hard about it, to instead appreciate the blessing of being graced with her voice, even if it was just subconscious. You tell yourself it's probably just a result of the weeks recent events; the flooding of Gotham city. The death of Carmine Falcone.

The impact of it all must have rattled you.

That's all.

But... you can't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more.

It's then that your phone rings on your bedside table. *BRRR*

You set your water cup down with a huff, shuffling your feet slowly towards your bedroom. You're in no rush to pick up. Who the fuck call at this time of night; and without warning?

In your experience, this meant one of two things: the call was your basic, run of the mill scam attempt, or a reporter who had found your number and was desperate for some kind of story. Not that you'd ever give them one, of course. Even when Sofia was still around, and your relationship was somewhat in the public eye, you never discussed anything with journalists of any kind.

After Sofia was sent to Arkham, the scrutiny on you had increased. You went from being the occasionally mentioned girlfriend of Carmine Falcone's daughter, to 'the woman who loved The Hangman.'

Generally, the public saw you as a pseudo-victim; someone who had been manipulated by The Hangman, paraded to maintain a false image, and used as a front to keep Sofia's cover. They didn't believe you when you claimed to have been with Sofia on three of the nights that those women were killed. "The poor girl- who knows what that woman subjected her to, to make her lie for her?"

The year following her arrest was the peak of your exposure. You were relentlessly assaulted with press whenever you went outside, and you had to change your cell phone number four times.

Everyone was dying for an inside scoop on what it was like to know The Hangman intimately.

By the second year, you were more comfortable leaving the house. You moved just outside of Gotham, and slowly, the pressure for statements and interviews died down the longer Sofia was away. You still get the occasional phone call, someone hoping that now that it's been 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years, maybe you'd be willing to share your 'story.'

You'd hang up immediately every time, until you got to the point where you just stopped picking up.

*BRRRRR*

You approach your bedside table with every intention to hit the reject button, squinting at the brightness of your screen in the dark of your room.

That's when you see the caller ID.

*000*

You pause.

So far, every telemarketer, every scammer, reporter, and journalist, were listed as either Unknown Caller, or a string of numbers.

The only time you received calls with three digit numbers was when it was Alberto.

A part of you hesitates. Alberto does this, sometimes, though it's become more sparse over the years: he goes on a bender, gets too in his feelings, and calls from a nurner phone and leaves you a barrage of voice and text messages. It's always the same, with him going on coked-up rant about how he's going to get Sofia out one day and wrong everyone who wronged her.

Outside of that, though, Alberto never called. When Sofia was sent away, Alberto had begun simultaneously spiraling and attempting to survive and thrive in the Falcone family. Between the drugs and job, Alberto became a lot more isolated than he used to be. Any attempt on your part to reach out wasn't successful. He stopped responding from the number you'd had saved, keeping communication one-sided.

Still, every week, you texted him the same thing at the same time. Sunday, 9AM, an hour before you knew Sofia had visitation hours. Tell Sofia I love her, please.

You'd never get a response, but you never really expected to, either. You had no way of confirming if he was seeing your messages. The only way you knew Alberto still even thought of you or knew your number was with the increasingly infrequent, triple digit ID calls.

Either way, the occasional drug fueled messages always left you feeling even more depressed. Knowing Alberto was suffering just as much as you didn't bring any sort of comfort; it just reminded you of your own pain.

*BRRRRR*

Between the unease from your dream and timing of the call, though, every instinct in your body is telling you to pick up the phone.

Your hands tremble as you clumsily smash the answer button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" You wait with baited breath as you hear Alberto on the other side of the line. "...'Berto?" There's nothing but silence for a moment.

Then, you hear him clear his throat. "I, uh-" There's a pause, and a sniff. "I'm gettin' her out, [Y/N]."

You're heart pounds almost painfully. "Y-you mean-"

"Yeah," Alberto confirms with a disbelieving laugh, as if he can't wrap his own head around it. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time, confirming everything you've wanted, pleaded, prayed for, for ten years. "She's comin' home."

The news breaks two days later.

Two days of silence from Alberto after he dropped that fucking bomb on you.

You aren't sure if you're in shock, or if it literally hasn't quite hit you yet. Maybe it's because, despite a part of you accepting you'd never see her again, you always had faith in your heart that she'd come back to you. That naive hope kept you alive for ten years.

You aren't sure what to do with yourself, now. You've grown so accustomed to just... existing. Holding hope, with nothing to really do with it. This sort of feels likes that, but with more anticipation knowing what's to come.

Except, it doesn't.

She comes home, yes. You watch the reports about it, read the headlines, hear the outcries. But you don't see her. You don't hear from her, or Alberto, and you're resigned to waiting for one of them to reach out.

After a few days, you grew impatient. The anxiety you'd felt from waiting around had turned into a sort of panic, an all consuming need to make any attempt to quell your nerves.

Why hadn't you heard anything? Had something gone wrong? Did they forget?

You'd gone to the Falcone residence. It was fucking packed with news casters, journalists, rioters and spectators. It had taken you a while to shove your way through the mob, and when you had, you were turned away like everyone else.

You went back the next day, and the next, and the results were the same.

And then, Alberto dies.

You think the shock will return, but all you can think is Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Your Sofia. Your girl, who must be hurting so tremendously right now, who you can't cradle and comfort.

It seems your deep seeded need to be by Sofia's side reignites some of your more rational thinking, though, and you consider your options.

The crowds of cameras and protesters should disperse by the time the sun goes down, you'd assume, giving you more of a shot to see her.

So, you decide to return to the Falcone's late that evening, when the moon has settled and the stars are at their brightest.

Despite the time, it seems the family is well awake, as all the lights can be seen as you walk up the driveway. You hear voices, though you're too far away to tell if they're shouts from behind the walls, or conversations outside.

Soon, two of the guards notice you approaching. "Hey!" One hollars, hoisting up his gun as he stalks towards you. "What are you doin' here? You got business with Luca?"

You should probably be more concerned about the possibility of being shot by a paranoid guard, but your adrenaline is pumping too hard to care.

"Uh- no, I'm- I don't," you stutter. "I wanna see Sofia."

As the second guard approaches, you hear a soft chuckle. "Ah, yeah, I remember you," he drawls, before turning towards the other man. "Used to hang around Sofia," he explains to him, making the other relax his posture slightly.

"She's not available," the first one grunts, "probably won't be for a while."

Being turned down does little to deter you. "So she's here? Just, not available?" You ask hopefully. They don't get a chance to respond. "That's fine. I can wait."

You make a bold move to squeeze past them, speed walking over to the grand stair case in front of the house with purpose.

Behind you, the guards bicker. You don't hear what they say, outside of something about 'letting Ms. Falcone decide,' but based on the lack of pushback, you assume the one who remembered you was suggesting the other guard leave it be.

You're perfectly content to sit for as long as you need to. You've waited a decade for Sofia; you can wait a few hours- or even until the morning- to finally see her after all this time.

To your surprise, though, you only wait for about 45 minutes.

The front doors of the mansion swing open, and you hear the click of heels stomping down the steps.

"Fuckin' pricks," someone mutters, and you immediately recognize the voice.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stand on shaky legs, and you can't turn around to face her fast enough. You almost lose you balance in the process, but catch yourself in time for Sofia to notice your presence.

She has a cigarette halfway to her lips as she stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face.

You blink.

She blinks.

"You're..." her voice sounds empty for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little, blinking hard a few times and huffing. "What are you doing here, [Y/N]?"

You open your mouth, but your brain is moving a mile a minute. Nothing comes out, and you just gape at her like a fish for a few moments. "Uhhhh..." you trail off dumbly, but you're too frozen to even feel stupid about it.

Sofia rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says as she resumes her walk past you, lighting up her cigarette as she does. "I'm not staying too far from here at the moment."

You practically trip over yourself in your rush to follow Sofia. It's a bit of a struggle to keep up with her pace, but you manage. The car is parked at the end of the driveway. A burly man is propped against the hood, and he moves around to the back door when he sees Sofia quickly approaching. He opens it for her with a quick acknowledgment as she slides in smoothly, and remains silent as you clumsily follow suit.

Sofia keeps her eyes fixed out the window as the man gets into the drivers seat. You can't help but stare at her, though, something akin to awe making it impossible to look away.

A few minutes into the drive, you see Sofia tentatively shift her eyes towards you. She looks on guard, as though unnerved by your eyes on her.

Still, she says nothing. Her gaze stays trained on the passing scenery for the remainder of the ride, like she's stubbornly making an effort to ignore your blatant staring.

Sofia hardly waits until the car is parked to unbuckle and hastily exist the vehicle once it's pulled in front of her building. You rush to get your door open, jogging a little to catch up to her.

You're paid no mind as Sofia struts inside and walks to the kitchen. It's almost like you're invisible, a silent, unseen witness.

Sofia moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, retrieving a glass and wine bottle that she pops open, pouring a sizeable amount. She takes a long, long sip, her head tilting back until the contents of her glass are almost completely gone.

Then, she sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she embraces the warmth of the alcohol.

Finally, she looks at you, indifference written all over her face. "You didn't give me an answer earlier," she states simply.

You take a small step forward. "Sofia..." You blink hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

Sofia is looking at you. You see her. You hear her.

You take another step, and another, until your knees buckle in front of her. "Sofia," it's an almost reverant sound that makes Sofia inhale sharply.

She's so close.

You wrap your arms around her legs as you kneel before her, nuzzling against her thighs.

"Sofia," you say again, just as softly.

You can breathe again. After ten long, dreadful years, you finally feel like the air in your lungs is pure and real.

Sofia freezes. She's unsure of how to process this.

You're here. In front of her- willingly.

It feels wrong; you bowing before her when you have no idea who she is anymore.

"Cut it out," she mutters, lightly pushing your head away and taking a small step back.

You remain on your knees, looking up at her with half lidded eyes.

The adoration in them makes Sofia uncomfortable.

"Get off the floor," Sofia says, her tone indescribable. "You aren't an animal." She turns to top off her wine glass, takes a sip, and leaves the room.

It takes you a minute to gather yourself, but you slowly move towards the direction she headed in. You find her in a room down the hall, an open, office-adjacent space. She's sitting on a loveseat in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead as she sips away.

You pause in the doorway to observe her for a minute, wondering if she's aware that you've followed. You decide to let your presence be known, taking a few confident steps forward.

Sofia doesn't look at you when she speaks.

"Whatever you're here for," she starts, "you won't find."

"No," you find yourself saying. "No, Sofia, I..." you trail off as you come closer. "I... I just want you."

Sofia's jaw clenches. "You don't know what that means anymore," she spits, before taking another sip of her wine, attempting to grow the irrational anger brewing inside her.

There's a certain, panicked heat that comes over you then, feeling unheard and misunderstood. "No, no," you say hastily. "No, Sofia, please," you drop in front of her again. "Please, Sofia. I don't care what that- what that means. All I care about is you."

Sofia scoffs, her temper getting the best of her. She grips your hair without thinking, pulling your head off her lap to look up at her. "You want me to show you what it means?" She hisses, eyes wide and manic. "Okay. Take your clothes off."

You're momentarily stunned, not expecting Sofia's request. "What? Ah-!" Sofia yanks your hair again, gritting her teeth as she speaks. "Take off your fucking clothes," she repeats.

Her tone sends you into motion, and you scramble to remove your top. Sofia settles back against the couch as she watches you undress for her, keeping her features schooled.

Once you're bare, you shift on your knees a bit, unsure of what to do. Being naked in front of Sofia certainly isn't new, but, it's also been ten years since you've last been intimate with her. You never anticipated it happening again like... this. Sofia never acted this way with you in the last. Usually, she undressed you herself, slowly and with kisses on each inch of skin she revealed. She had been teasing, sure, but never so stern.

It stirred something in you that you couldn't place your finger on. All you know is, you certainly aren't complaining.

So, you stay still, not wanting to do anything without instruction lest Sofia decide she's no longer willing to entertain you. You bask in Sofia's predatory gaze, letting her drink in your exposed body.

Soon, though, you start to squrim a bit. It's not cold, per say, but the air was just brisk enough on your bare skin that you couldn't ignore the slight chill.

You shiver a little, and Sofia smirks.

"You cold?" She asks knowingly. Sofia keeps her eyes on you as she reaches for her wine glass, standing as she does.

You tense a little as she begins to stalk closer to you, a small sneer on her face.

She's behind you, now, but you don't dare to move your head, not even when you hear the clink of her wine glass on the ground. Instead, you stay still and complacent as Sofia picks up your discarded shirt and begins to wrap it around your wrists. You moan inadvertently at the feeling of her skin on yours, but Sofia takes a deep breath. She ignores the sound, instead making quick work of restraining your hands behind your back.

When she's done, Sofia picks her glass back up as she towers over you. There's a dark, empty look in her eye that sends a chill down your spine.

Sofia, of course, notices this.

She smirks. "Is that it? You chilly, sweetheart?" Her voice is patronizing and full of faux concern.

You're not sure if she wants an answer or not, but aren't given a chance to respond either way, Sofia suddenly splashing the remenants of the wine from her glass onto you.

You flinch, and gasp loudly at the cold sensation. You're hands instinctively move to rub at eyes in an attempt to clear your vision, but you find yourself tugging fruitlessly at the shirt Sofia had binded your wrists. The wine soaking your face and dampening your hair ends trickles down your body, erupting goosebumps in it's wake.

You're still blinking heavily in an attempt to normalize your seeing when hear a breathy cackle. You feel her pinch your jaw, a strong grip on you as she licks a filthy stripe up your face, lapping up the spilt wine. She releases you, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Sofia struts past you and towards the desk by the window. You can't see what she's retrieving, your eyesight blurry and unfocused.

By the time Sofia circles back, you've mostly regainedy your vision. You don't have any time to visually process what she has in her hand, though, as she wastes no time in forcing the barrel of her handgun past your parted, panting lips, and into your mouth.

"It's a terrible feeling. Isn't it?" The gun presses a little harder, and you cringe at the feeling of rough metal pressing against your tongue. "Nothing left to hide behind," Sofia drawls, her voice is surprisingly even, though her words feel weighted.

You blink up at her with an unnerving lack of fear.

Sofia bares on with a tilt of her head. "The guards at Arkham stripped us bare every morning," she states, and your heart clenches at the thought. "It was humiliating," Sofia continues, a subtle anger brewing in her voice with each punctuated annunciation, "being turned into a thing."

Sofia shoves the gun hard enough to make you gag, and presses forward until you're bending backwards. Sofia straddles you, her grip on the gun directing your movements. She has you sprawled on your back, hands twisted painfully under you, pressed between your spine and the hardwood floor.

Sofia lowers her face, her wild eyes inches from yours. "You think," she growls, "that I'm still who you knew?" She smiles, though there's no joy in it. "That I'm not just a thing?"

Apparently, it wasn't a rhetorically question, as Sofia yanks the gun out of your mouth.

You sputter for a second, before rushing to respond, "no," you gasp. "I- I don't expect you to- to be the same, Sofia, I don't." Your voice cracks a bit, and you pray that your eyes convey your earnesty. "I don't care that you- you don't feel like yourself, Sofia, if you feel different, now. I love you. I love you. I love you, Sofia," you insist, your voice soft.

Sofia regards you for a long minute, and you wait with abated breath to see how she'd react.

For a moment, you think she's heard you. Really heard, and believed you- believed in your unconditional love and devotion for her. There's a hopeful, but guarded look in her eye, something akin to a skittish street cat assessing if it should trust the hand reaching out to pet it. But, just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.

Sofia's features go hard again, and she moves her face away, straightening her back and kneeling over you.

"You don't get it," she says- simply, quietly, almost as if to herself.

You part your lips to protest, but Sofia is quicker, and slaps her hand over your mouth. "Don't," she warns.

Sofia hates it. The way you don't even struggle under her; the way you just take it, like you understand what this means.

Why don't you get it? Do you really not understand what kind of horrors she was exposed to? What they did to her; what they turned her into?

It pisses her off.

How dare you, how dare you, prance back into her life, expecting her to be untouched by the hell that was Arkham?

Do you think she's naive? That she'd truly believe, after all this time, you'd still want her? Want her for who she actually is now?

You don't even fucking know her anymore.

Fuck.

It infuriates her for so many reasons that she refuses to acknowledge right now.

Instead, she let's herself embrace the unbridled rage that's always threatening to erupt inside her.

"Alright!" She exclaims, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face. "You love me?" She taunts. "You think you want me?"

She shoves herself off of you to pull her underwear down her legs. You're heart thuds as she slips off her fur coat and hikes up her dress. Sofia easily drops back down, straddling your face and gripping your hair with one hand. "Show me, then." With that, she lowers herself completely, smothering your face in her cunt.

Your primal instincts kick in, then, and you press forward, your tongue eagerly swiping through her folds.

Jesus fuck, you think somewhere in the back of your mind. Finally, finally, finally.

You hadn't realized how much you craved the taste of Sofia until this very moment. It feels like you're starving, like you haven't eaten in ten goddamn years, and Sofia is the first meal you've been granted.

Your ministrations are messy and desperate. You can hardly think straight, overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sofia. All you do is lick and suck and moan, embracing the pure bliss you feel. The rapidly decreasing supply of oxygen in your lungs is easy to ignore when you finally have the privilege of pleasuring Sofia again.

Sofia's eyebrows furrow. You won't struggle under her. You won't look up with panicked eyes, even as she deprives you of air, even as she suffocates you.

You don't get it.

Sofia narrows her eyes and her hips buck forward. It's almost violent, the way she fucks your face, riding harder and harder. She grunts softly, losing inhibition as she watches her slickness spread all over your face.

Still, you only whine as though you're the one being pleasured.

Why don't you fucking get it.

Sofia tightens her grip in your hair, pushing your face impossibly closer against her cunt as she feels her climax approaching. She's panting harshly through her noise, controlling the means threatening to spill out of her.

Just then, your eyes slugglishly blink open and lock with hers. It's clear that you're moments away from passing out, and Sofia can only stare down at the dazed look in your eyes.

Still, there's no fear there. There's nothing but adoration.

Your eyes roll back, and your eyelids flutter shut. Sofia's breath hitches as your body goes limp under her.

It's then that she cums, her body tensing and jerking. A ragged moan escapes her as she grinds and grinds against you, using your unconscious body to draw the waves of pleasure out.

Sofia slumps off of you, sitting by your side as she recovers from the exertion. She just sits for a while, until her breathing regulates, and she gathers the courage to look over at you.

You're still passed out, but the slight rise and fall of your chest tells Sofia you are, in fact, alive.

It doesn't do much to relieve Sofia- not when there's a sick, familiar feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

No.

Sofia squeezes her eyes shut.

This isn't supposed to matter.

This doesn't mean anything.

Sofia stands, and smooths out her dress. She can't afford to have regrets; to have... things that make her question herself.

That's not her anymore.

Sofia takes a deep breath.

She squares her shoulders, and doesn't spare you a second glance as she forces herself to leave the room.

#sofia falcone x reader #sofia gigante x reader #sofia falcone #sofia gigante #nsft #the penguin

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baby-tini · 3 months ago

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would izana want a bimbo gf? if he would, how would he treat her sfw & nsfw 🙈

I don't think he'd mind a bimbo gf, I could see him becoming quite frustrated with you, on certain aspects in your relationships but he's always been good at doing things himself so, he wouldn't mind in the long run.

SFW-

He didn't really think much of you at first, he got a little irritated at first by your lack of... logical thinking, although, you did grow on him and you became a comfort of sorts, someone too just spend time with and relax, not thinking about anything connected to the gang life. He no longer felt that suffocating feeling of being alone, not when you would constantly cling to him and go on rants about the new show you were watching or the small things that would upset, things that would be very miniscule to him, he envied you a bit in all honesty, you never had too worry about big things and the things that'd have you dwelling were more often then not, was a broken nail. He found you adorable the more and more time that he spent with you, taking you shopping so that you could give him a little runway show in the dressing room. He's not the most protective over... anyone really, but then again, you're not just anyone, you're his, he's always with you- and if he can't be, he sends Kakucho with you, with the instructions too do anything necessary too keep you safe. He really doesn't like when you cry or get upset, he has gotten into a multitude of fights when someone has had the nerve too disrespect you, right in front of him noless, to be honest, you can't recount a time when you've seen him so pissed. The look in those pretty lavender eyes had made your stomach drop and the mans face was just carnage, unrecognizable. He isn't the biggest fan of your naive nature, it's one of the few things about you that piss him off, simply for the fact that you're too trusting for his taste. What do you mean a woman said she had a puppy in her car and you followed? Or when a man gave you candy that was funnily wrapped and you took it? It's not really that it's you that makes him mad, more so other people that take advantage of your all too trusting nature that makes him mad.

NSFW-

He adores how shy you are with anything sexual, even the topic has your little brain malfunctioning, oh he just absolutely adores you, he likes too do it in public, but with subtlety, he doesn't wanna give anymore people a reason too eye you up, especially when he's with you. He really doesn't care too take things too slow, it's not really his style, especially with how stressful his.. job can get, quickies are quite abundant in your sex life with him, plus he's not always available, so that gives you both less of a chance too have longer, more meaningful sex. Not too big of a fan of being messy, so he tends too come inside you too prevent sleeping on messy sheets, because if they do get messy, he has too clean them, he refuses too sleep on cum-soaked sheets. He likes discreetly public quickies, you can no longer count on your hands the amount of times he's taken you over and over in an alleyway or in a bathroom at a bar. Likes when run your nails over his undercut, the way his back shudders makes that quite obvious. He likes too keep eye-contact with you as well, he'll go so far as too stop fucking you if you look away from him- likes the little sounds you make as well and will either tie you up or pin both of your hands down if you try too even attempt too cover your mouth. He likes too keep your hands locked with his as well, even if he doesn't have time too have the most intimate sex with you, he'll try too incorporate it with you. Always tells you how much he loves you during and after you have sex with him, never forgets, it's every single time. Likes too bury his face in your neck when it gets too much or he's overstimulated. Izana is also a whimper; although very rare, if you pay close enough attention to him, you'll be able too hear them.

#baby-tini #anon ask #izana x reader #izana kurokawa #tokyo revengers izana #tokrev #tokyo revengers #izana kurokawa x reader #izana kurokawa smut #izana smut

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laniakea314 · 1 year ago

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Aziraphale wanted to give Crowley the chance to do good without having to face consequences for it, he wanted the two of them to be together without having to face consequences for it. The fear of going against God’s will and being cast out Heaven is still deeply rooted in his mind, so when he sees the opportunity of being allowed to work with (and love) Crowley “legally”, in the Almighty’s eyes, of course he jumps onto that train. Also, he’s been managing the fragile balance between doing what he thinks is right and doing what Heaven/God wants for a very long time, and now he might have the chance to unify the two, putting an end to his moral dilemmas and giving him a feeling certainty and purpose.

Crowley has never been as afraid as Aziraphale to stand up for what he thought was right or morally correct. He’s taken many many risks over the years and sometimes payed a high price for them. Asking too many questions cost him his angelic status; helping Elspeth in 1827 got him dragged down to Hell and possibly tortured; preventing the Apocalypse cost him his “job”, his apartment and almost got him killed. He really doesn’t have much more to lose. The only things we see him having an attachment to in s2 are the Bentley, his peaceful and fragile existence on Earth, and Aziraphale, who he is especially protective of. In fact he is so scared of losing Aziraphale that he’s extremely careful when it comes to taking risks in their relationship, which is part of the reason why it took 6000 years and two lesbians to get him to communicate how he felt. So of course he wants to keep Aziraphale safe, and he probably believes that the only way to do that is to bring him far away from those who are responsible for everything else he’s lost so far. Because if he loses Aziraphale too, what meaning does life have anymore?

They’re both so afraid of losing each other, but Aziraphale hasn’t lost as many things as Crowley has and believes that if they can find a way to be together legitimately inside the system, they’re safe. Meanwhile Crowley, who’s lost so much at the hands of Heaven and Hell, thinks that the only way they can be safe is far away from the system.

#let’s start a fundraiser to finance their couples therapy #I love when a season ends well but damn this angst is brilliant #miscommunication #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens 2 #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman #good omens spoilers #go2 spoilers

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notanactressyay · 6 months ago

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— ₊⊹ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫 (𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞)

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . she did. she allowed her feelings and past to take you away from her. now, guilt and confusion consumed her, and when the one chance to make everything right comes, she doesn't think twice before taking it. and you have to love her from afar. from somewhere you don't even know.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . major character death, the blip, Thanos, cursing, grief, breaking down, no happy ending.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . this is the second and last part to loving you silently. i didn't think i'd make a part two, but turns out i enjoyed writing angsty things. i'm switching accounts, my pinned explains everything.

fic started: june 23, 2024, 04:30am. | finished: june 23, 2024, 03:01pm.

dividers belong to: @saradika — ₊⊹ ★

the breakup messed up with her mind more than she initially thought it would have. you hadn't used the exact phrase "i am breaking up with you", but the way you said it, "when you become the Natasha i fell in love with again", it was almost the same thing. because she knew there was no way she was ever becoming the same old her.

during the whole 5 years, her mind was slowly being taken by her own pride and guilt, and the only thing keeping her grounded was you. she knew somebody was looking out for her, outside the prison of her brain. she knew that, when she finally manages to find a way and bring everybody back, things would be okay, and then, you'd live happily ever after.

but life unfortunately wasn't a fairy tale. you were a real person. and unlike her, you were way too ordinary to cope with a messed up individual like herself. you didn't learn how to manipulate people's emotions, or how to kill, or how to hide your true self. no one should learn those things anyway, but she did — and felt crazy for it.

and now that you had moved out of the compound to let your relationship breathe, the russian felt crazier than ever.

"stop squirming," Steve whispered as he used the wipe to clean the dry blood from Natasha's hands. "i know it hurts. but no more than breaking the whole kitchen. does it?"

"i lost," she murmurs, gaze fixated on a spot on the floor. clearly she wasn't listening to whatever captain america was saying. "i lost them. i-i lost everything,"

Steve takes a deep breath and throws the dirty wipes on the bin, grabbing the bandages. he scooted his chair closer to where Natasha was sitting, a defeated look on his face.

"i don't know what i am supposed to tell you." he admits, wrapping the bandages carefully around all the cuts and bruises on the spy's hands. "i watched you reject their love and care for you. i watched you pushing them away."

"i'm a lost cause," she murmurs — being cut off by a sob escaping her throat. a loud, pained sob, as the events of the past few days registered on her mind. she was still a human being to prevent a break down from happening. "i-i don't know what to do, Steve,"

his eyes shows concern as he finishes patching her up. he sighs heavily and pulls the woman into his arms, cradling her trembling frame, allowing her to cry. he takes a look around — the microwave, stove, windows, glasses, plates. everything breakable, Natasha had punched. they now despite everything, had a kitchen to reform.

— ₊⊹ ★

the street was empty. there were no cars, or no neighbors. you unfortunately — yes, unfortunately — had been one of the lucky ones who Thanos didn't snap. what was the point of continuing to live if you had no friends, no family, and now, not even your loved one anymore? giving her a time was supposed to feel freeing, but you had nothing to free yourself from. you had nothing other than that.

you kicked the suitcases inside your old house and shut the door close. the silence felt terrifying now. you felt like you could go insane anytime. you sat down by the doorframe and ran your hands through your hair, leaning your head back against the wall with a thud.

the atmosphere was so different from the Avengers Tower. previously, living with a bunch of superheroes was so fun. especially when you weren't one. you loved being in the middle of so many dangerous missions and sobrenatural stuff — little did you know it would become that.

you missed your best friends. the laughter shared with everyone. Tony, Bruce, Thor, Cap, Clint. Yelena and Kate too. Wanda.. and now it was just you. you, the faint blow of the wind. nothing else.

it was an endless nightmare that certainly couldn't get any worse. right?

your watch showed 7pm. you stood up and walked to the balcony, where you could see practically the whole New York, and the glow from the Tower you used to live. the stars were twinkling. your gaze locked on them, as you prayed for anything, anything that could see you, or sense you, to get you out of this.

— ₊⊹ ★

Natasha was back on her office, after making herself a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and tearfully biting on the bread. Tony walked in a few minutes later, holding a sleeping Morgan on his hip.

she raised an eyebrow, not speaking, not wanting to wake the little girl up. Tony sighed, siting on the sofa. he whispered to Natasha, knowing she could hear. "Steve told me about the kitchen. and about you. so i had to come."

the redhead sighed and nodded in acknowledgement, holding her bandaged hands up, chuckling humorlessly. "i'm a hundred percent lost. i don't think i have much time left, honestly."

"shush with that." Tony tsks and shake his head. he holds Morgan closer, watching as Natasha cleared her throat, her heart aching for what Tony had. "we'll figure something out,"

"easy for you to say," she whispers shakily, pointing her head at his daughter in his arms. he knows what she's talking about, but couldn't do much.

they fell in a silence again, before receiving a call on the panel. it had been ages since they received one. Tony frowned, sitting more upright. "is that an old message?"

"is there anyone home? this is Scott Lang. hi, hi! we met a few years ago at the airport? in Germany?! ant-man? i know you know that, i got Captain America here with me,"

"Scott, Scott. calm down. they can see us. wait until they open the gate."

"it's the front gate," Natasha weakly stands up and look at the image of ant-man and captain america, a tiny, tiny flicker of hope showing on her eyes as she thinks of the possibilities for them to be together.

as they allow the other two inside, Tony goes up to let Morgan sleep in one of the dormitories. Scott paces around, muttering to himself. Natasha watched, confused.

"Scott, calm down." Steve says, placing a hand on the man's shoulder to stop him. "let's tell them what happened, easy."

"have either of you guys ever studied quantum physics?" he asks, eyes searching around until they landed on Natasha's sandwiches. "is that anyone's sandwich? god, i'm starving." he rushes to the desk and grabs it, taking a giant bite out of it.

"only to make conversation," Natasha comments, narrowing her eyes.

"alright, so. five years ago, right before... before Thanos, i was in a place called the quantum realm. it is like it's own microscopic universe, you have to be incredibly small to get in there. i got stuck in there, for 5 years.. because.. the person supposed to pull me out was snapped."

"i'm sorry." the russian whispers, clearing her throat. "that must have been long five years."

"except it wasn't. for me, it was 5 hours," Scott continues, making Natasha frown even more. "time works differently there."

Tony seemed to get a finger on what he was talking about. he shook his head and shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets. "so you want us to navigate the quantum realm. you want to create a time machine."

"not a time machine. it's.. it's.. it's crazy, it's.." he mumbles, huffing frustratedly. "yes, a time machine."

"no, absolutely not." Tony says firmly, not having to think twice. "quantum fluctuation messes with the planck scale. which triggers the deutsch proposition. in layman's terms, means you're not coming home."

"Scott did." Steve shrugs, simply.

"no. he accidentally survived." iron man insists. "it's a billion to one cosmic fluke. and now you wanna pull your so called.. 'time heist'?"

"the stones are in the past. if we go back, we can get them," Natasha nods slowly, her expression changing to a more determined one. "we can snap our own fingers. we can bring everybody back."

"or screw it up worse than he already has. right?" Tony chuckles and denies it once more. "no. i'm not doing this."

"Tony." Natasha murmurs. "we have to take a stand."

"we know you got a lot on the line. you got a wife, a daughter. but i lost someone very important to me. all of us did. it's not only you we are talking about here," Steve explains and Natasha flinches at the mention. "there's somebody who i absolutely know will help you, help us,"

the redhead looks down, a bittersweet smile crossing her lips. "they're not really talking to me right now. but if you ask them, Tony. isn't that a shot worth taking?"

"oh. you all mean Natasha's partn—" Scott mumbles, but is interrupted by Steve smacking his shoulder.

Tony seems to think for a while, but eventually, his walls break, as he remembers you. all the times you helped with his projects, how nothing ever failed when you teamed up. yup. to your house he went.

— ₊⊹ ★

"so basically, in Saint Francisco, ant-man suddenly left the quantum realm and Steve found him laying in a bunch of boxes in an abandoned parking lot."

you listened to Tony's explanation wide-eyed, not believing a single word. you smirked somehow. it took a lot to even let him in, you only did it because he had his daughter anyway. and now he was asking for you to suddenly go back to where you left.

"and now, you all want to pair up again and build a time machine and time travel." you ask, but it sounds more like an affirmation.

"you see, they took a while to convince me too." he says, looking into your eyes. Tony wasn't the selfish man he usually was. he was genuinely concerned, and seemed to consider the request.

"because you don't wanna lose her,"

you say quietly, as Morgan snuggles up against you. you were the one who always took care of her when Pepper and him couldn't. she was like a niece for you. a rush of wind causes the girl to shiver and mumble something, but she quickly goes back to sleep. you carefully lean your head down against the girl's.

"... Pepper and i already consulted FRIDAY." Tony gulps, nodding. "it might work. can you believe that? we are actually able to time-travel."

"usually you'd say that's horseshit," you snicker, coaxing a small laugh out of Tony.

"i did say that." he nods, wrapping his arm around you both, allowing your weight to rest on him.

it was good to know you still had a friend, something to take care of. and also, someone needed this to work as much as you did. and you didn't want that person to think you had forgotten about her.

"..fine." you mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind Morgan's ear. "when and how are we doing that?"

— ₊⊹ ★

seemingly, everyone was back. well, the glimpse of who the team was.

Thor had gained a few pounds and hadn't gotten his beard done for ages. Clint, looked like a teenager who liked being emo. Tokyo did something to him. Bruce, had somehow joined himself and the Hulk, and now he was green all the time. a lot changed ever since you saw everybody.

"okay, here we go. time-travel test number one," you say, holding the clipboard where you noted the events. "Scott, fire up the... uh, the van thing."

he opens the back of the van which was being used as the time-travel portal and fires up the engine. Steve sets the emergency generators, as Scott puts the helmet on.

"i'm sending you back a week, let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds." you explain, taking a step back.

"we got this," Natasha says apprehensively, picking on her nails.

you look at her with your peripheral vision, taking a long, sharp breath, trying to focus on the main task there. bring everybody back, before thinking of your previous relationship.

Scott is send back a week, then. the propellant pulls him inside the portal and in a count of three, you press all the buttons again, and boom. ant-man, perfectly fine.

"time travel!" Bruce-Hulk exclaims. "i knew it would work! you're the best,"

"mhm," you hum, bittersweetly smiling and sighing in relief. "now, it's simple, we just gotta find a way to know where the stones are, travel, come back, and everything is solved."

"good job," Tony throws you a smile. you return it.

"this is how we're doing it," Clint steps in, and everyone looks at him. "we're taking Nebula, Rhodey, Rocket and all the Guardians of the Galaxy. we're gonna need as much as back-up possible. we know the how, now, it's the where, and the when."

"to the meeting room we go," you comment, placing the clipboard down and walking back inside.

— ₊⊹ ★

"almost everyone in this room had an encounter with at least one of the six infinity stones," Steve says, pointing at the images of the stones showing on FRIDAY's pannel.

"i haven't," you whisper, covering your mouth to prevent a chuckle from escaping. "i have no idea what the hell you're all talking about."

"regardless," Bruce sighs. "we only got enough pym-particles for one round-trip each."

"and the stones had been in a lot of different places throughout our history." Natasha finishes, following the path of thought.

the Avengers analyze each stone and recall in which time of their lives they had found each stone, so that they could pick their targets correctly and find them. until Nebula begins talking about the last one. the soul stone. "Thanos found the soul stone in Vormir."

"what's Vormir?" Natasha asks, grabbing her notepad and a pen. the explanation, though, was not something you were expecting.

"a dominion of death." Nebula whispers. "at the very center of celestial existence. it's where.. my sister was murdered. by him."

that word. death. the team sees how it affected both Natasha and you. she shifted uncomfortably on the couch and finished scrabbling on the paper, dropping it on the coffee table in front of her.

"we got a plan." Steve speaks, breaking the awkward silence. "six stones, three teams, one shot."

"am I going?" you ask quietly, looking at everyone who shook their heads at you.

"no, of course not." Natasha was the first to reply. "you're strong, mentally. but you're not a superhero. you're staying here to pull us out as soon as we're back. copy?"

that didn't feel right. and Natasha felt your uneasiness. it broke her so much to know you were still concerned for her. you both weren't in the right places for her to comfort you, so she stayed right where she was.

— ₊⊹ ★

Natasha 'flew' to so called Vormir with one and only objective. making things right. it wasn't true to say she wasn't a little shaken by Nebula's words before. but if it meant dying, to get her family back, get her sister back, and her lover back, she wouldn't hesitate.

it was damn creepy. the sky was a mixture of purples and blues and blacks, mountains covered in snow and long, long cliffs.

"you okay?" Clint places his hand on Nat's back as he sees her expression. she's scared.

"i will be," she whispers, giving him a not-so-convincing smile. "as soon as we accomplish our mission."

the truth was that she was scared of not seeing you again. not seeing your smile for a last time, hearing your voice once more. she had lost everything already, but not you. you stayed. the universe had decided to keep you there with her, that had to mean something. and she was only realizing how much of an idiot she had been right now. the potential last moments she had you by her side, she discarded like they were nothing.

"no time to think back, Natasha." Clint breaks her out of her trance and nudges her shoulder. she gulps nervously and follows him.

the two continue to walk up the mountain, until a strange voice calls out for them. Clint unsheathes his sword and Natasha pulls out her gun.

"Natasha, daughter of Ivan. Clint, son of Edith."

"consider me a guide," the voice continues, "to you, and to all who seek the soul stone."

"good." Natasha comments dryly, aiming at the figure in the black robe. "you tell us where it is, and we'll be on our way."

the figure approaches them, revealing the creature under the black fabric. Red Skull. "what you seek, lies ahead of you."

a glow comes from the end of the cliff, and they both know what it means immediately. they lower their weapons and secure them again.

"in order to get what you want, you need to lose what you love the most. a soul for a soul."

Natasha's eyes lock on the glow coming from down below. those were like two pieces of a puzzle. the sparkle her eyes had lost. it was what she needed to do. she nad nothing to live for. she had already disappointed you, and besides, it would bring your family back — the perfect call. you would be happy again. away from her. freed from her.

"promise me something?" she whispers, taking baby steps towards the edge, and Clint follows. "tell my love i'm sorry."

"Natasha, stop.'' he places his hand on her shoulder and turns her to look at him. he knew that look. determination, pure determination.

"five years. five years and all i did was screw up." she points at herself, voice shaking with raw emotion. "five years and i didn't do a single thing right. i never did, actually, but now its worse."

"Natasha—,"

"promise me." she repeats, desperately grabbing on Clint's suit, squeezing him. "promise me you'll tell them i'm sorry, that i loved them more than anything in the world. that they were the best thing that ever happened to me."

"no, you'll tell them yourself,"

"promise me!" she yells, feeling tears build on her eyes.

Clint stumbles backwards in awe, dumbfounded. what the hell was he going to do? lose Natasha like that? it didn't seem like she was going to back off from this, and if he didn't promise, he'd make her even more disappointed. and it took only a single nod from Clint for Natasha to use her widow's bite and punch him down against the floor, and run towards the end. "i'm sorry. i love you,"

"what the hell?" he mutters and squirms out of the webs, pulling out his hook — he hooks Natasha, and the other end, he hooks on the rock surface. they both hang out of the cliff. "you're a pain in the ass, y'know that?"

Natasha held onto Clint's wrist tightly, the thread of her lifeline almost breaking. she silently told Yelena a goodbye, letting the faint images of you and her together play on her brain. with that, she was in peace.

"no." he feels himself start to panic, as he restlessly tries to pull them both upwards again. failing. "please, Natasha."

"thank you for saving me. for not killing me on that rooftop on Budapest." she grabs her hand knife. "you gave me the chance to have the only thing i ever wanted."

a love. someone to call hers.

"it's okay." the redhead finishes, and takes a deep, final breath. "goodbye, Clint." she cuts the rope off.

the last thing she feels is the wind on her face, and then, an everlasting silence. oops, she doesn't feel anymore. the pain was over. it never existed. from now on, her soul would rest along the memories she had built with you. even if the memories of her suffering were stronger.

the soul stone was now in Clint's hands.

— ₊⊹ ★

"tell me you're lying." you shake your head, taking long, slow breaths.

"i'm so sorry—"

"tell me, you're fucking lying!"

your scream shatters Clint's heart more than he could handle. he looks down, shaking his head in denial.

"you're telling me, she sacrificed herself for the sake of a world who didn't value her," you sharply grab his arm and push him back against the wall. "in the past, in a complete foreign place, and i didn't even had the chance to see her again!?"

it was too much. you sob, covering your mouth and falling to the floor. Clint crouches down with you, his feelings matching yours exactly. you cry, wrapping your arms around yourself and trying to ignore the coldness from the tile floor — or just how cold your body actually felt.

"i'm sorry, Natasha," you whisper to the air, curling yourself into a ball. "i'm so sorry, my love. i'm so, so sorry. wherever you are, i hope you can hear me. i'm so goddamn sorry."

yeah, surely it wasn't going to be easy to live with the glimpse of her everywhere. you weren't even going to live with it. you'd do everything, everything to avenge her, something her own superhero friends didn't do — and go to see her once more.

the blip had destroyed everything. it took everything from you. thinking again, no, it wasn't cool to live with a bunch of superheroes.

( @scarjosii22, finalmente terminei a fanfic 😭 me matei pra escrever tudo isso, tô esperando meu pagamento 😋)

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blaydie · 4 months ago

Text

ᥫ᭡ A (FAKE) DOCTOR’S ORDER — “It’s just a cough.” Aventurine x Dr. Ratio (MLM)

Word count: 1.3k

Contains: MLM, Aventurine x Dr. Ratio, ill Ratio, Aventurine caring for Ratio, not-so-subtle flirting, affection, kissing, cuddles, caresses + more.

A/N: The Aventio/Ratiorine brain worm made me write this. Art cred: @/meronppaii (X)

It was a usual day for Aventurine. After all, he’s always willing to push his luck to see how far he can get. Forcing open the handle of Ratio’s office, he prepares to chime his usual greeting until his eyes meet with a seemingly unconscious torso resting atop the somewhat cluttered desk.

“What the— Are you—” Aventurine pauses, immediately looking around to assess the situation. “Veritas. It’s not funny.”

Despite several attempts of communication, there was still no response. Not even a murmur. Rushing over to the body, his hands fumble as he searches for a pulse. Ratio stirs, a low grumble escaping his lips. Aventurine scoffs, instinctively retracting his hands as Ratio forces himself up straight.

“Well? What was all that about? I thought you were dead.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m—” Before he could finish his sentence, he began uncontrollably coughing, spluttering on his words.

“You look awful. Should you be working like this?”

“It’s just a cough.”

“A cough. Right. There’s no colour on your face. I’ve never seen you look so sick before.” Aventurine leans against the desk, moving the scattered paperwork into the correct piles. “You should get some rest.”

“I don’t need you telling me what to do.” Ratio sneers, snatching away the work documents from Aventurine who was likely to have already destroyed their order.

“I’ll get you some tea then.”

“Don’t bother. I’m sure that wouldn’t help anyone.”

“You know I’m capable of doing things, don’t you? I’ve taken care of myself from a young age. Who do you think looks after me when I get ill?”

“…” Ratio rubs his forehead, recognising his wording may have come across as too snarky. “I don’t like sugar in my tea.”

“I wasn’t putting sugar in it anyway.” Aventurine sighs, a lengthy exhale as he heads towards Ratio’s kitchen. While he won’t directly admit it, the occasional belittlement does sting—like a gash straight across a bare chest. All he wanted to do was help, after all.

An herbal tea intended to soothe clogged sinuses was in the process of being concocted. Whether it be the flu or a cold, it should help ease his airways and prevent further mucus buildup. The tea was steaming, perfected to the best of his ability. Taking the mug, he returns to Ratio’s office, placing it on the desk.

“Thank you.”

“I thought I’d never see the day.” Aventurine snickers, pulling a spare chair to the opposite side.

“This doesn’t—” With the mug hovering by his mouth, Ratio hesitates to take a sip.

“I know. It doesn’t smell good—it doesn’t taste good either. It’s not supposed to.”

With Aventurine’s eyes glued to him, he takes a deep breath and sips the tea. Unbeknownst to him, it wasn’t as bad as he was anticipating. It was drinkable, to say the least. Despite the warm liquid soothing his throat, the chesty cough persists, making the dull ache in his throat grow stronger.

“I was coming to ask you if you wanted to go out for a drink, but it looks like that will have to wait for another time. Shame.” Aventurine taps a pen against the desk, revealing the doodles left in the corner of Ratio’s notebook.

“Were you? Or was that part of something you had planned?”

“Oh, how hurtful, Veritas. Can I not take a good friend out for fun anymore?”

“You always have something planned. Do not act coy.”

“Fine. But, the offer for drinks is still on the table. When you’re feeling better, of course.”

“I’ll consider it.” Ratio places the mug down, rising to his feet. His hands clutch the desk, veins protruding as his grip hardens.

“Do you need any—” Aventurine stands, reaching out to stabilise Ratio’s hunched body. A hand swats him away, leaving him standing there unamused.

“Look down.” Ratio speaks, suddenly dishing ominous orders out.

“Where exactly?” Aventurine’s eyes scan Ratio’s lower half, darting from his crotch to his sandals.

“Do you see?”

“See…?” Aventurine cocks his head aside, still unsure of what he’s intended to be looking at.

“I have a pair of functioning legs. I don’t need any assistance with walking.” Ratio brushes past Aventurine as he hobbles towards the door, his forehead pressed against the frame when he eventually makes it.

“You…” Aventurine pinches the skin between his brows, placing his hand in the middle of Ratio’s aching shoulder blades. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Lacking the energy to protest, he grants Aventurine permission to guide him to the bedroom. Now inside of the elegant room after navigating through the winding hallway, Aventurine strides towards the bed, unwrapping Ratio’s arm from around his neck. That’s until he was met with a slight issue. No matter the amount of strength he exerted in trying to pry Ratio’s arm from around him, it wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly, the two bodies topple down onto the mattress. Flustered by the abrupt tumble, Aventurine attempts to scramble from atop Ratio’s body, but the arm remains locking him in place.

“You’re not talking. Do you want me to play doctor or something?” Aventurine gazes down at Ratio whose expression remains unchanged. Somehow, that sight heightens his nerves.

“I feel unwell.” Ratio’s finger twirls around the longer strands of Aventurine’s hair before travelling down his face, cupping his cheek.

“Here, let me check your temperature.” Sweeping back Ratio’s hair, he plants his palm flat against his forehead. “You’re warm.”

“That doesn’t work when your hands are cold. I’m bound to feel warm.” Ratio chuckles, a sweet sound carrying no malice. Redirecting Aventurine’s hand, he leaves it resting on his chest. “You aren’t doing bad. It was a fair try.”

“You’re being too kind. Are you sure you’re not the one with a secret plan?”

“There is no plan. All that I’m stating is simply the truth.”

Aventurine’s eyes glimmer, his lips curving up as Ratio’s sincere praise replays in his mind. Though they often butt heads, it’s hard to deny that the connection between them exists. Neither one of them is that unintelligent. The ability to suppress their emotions, however, is something they both lack. A force too powerful to combat.

Much like the gem, Aventurine had a beautiful glow to him. His facial features create a composition that works in perfect harmony. Ratio would never admit that though, not outwardly. Perhaps he’ll make him work harder if he wishes to find that information out. He knows he is far more than capable.

Drawing closer, Ratio’s breath ghosts Aventurine’s face. His eyes are locked onto his lips which had been freshly moistened. He wasn’t stupid at all. Closing the distance, their mouths join. Ratio’s breath hitches, readjusting his position as Aventurine leans all of his body weight down. It was always so intense with him; nothing ever starts slow.

Nipping at Ratio’s bottom lip, Aventurine’s tongue meets with his, deepening the kiss drastically. If Ratio wasn’t hot previously, he certainly was now. The heat was radiating from him, causing Aventurine to tug at his own clothes for some air.

Eventually pulling away, Aventurine’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his pupils blown out from the intimate experience shared. His eyes travel down to Ratio’s hands which are gently massaging his hips, thumbs swirling circles across his skin as they slipped under his clothes. A cough sounds out, snapping them both back to reality.

“Wait. Won’t I get sick too?” Aventurine wipes his lips clean, although the action is already irreversible.

“It’s likely. I’ll take care of you if that’s the case.” Tugging him down by the arm, Ratio traps Aventurine in an embrace, one of his legs wrapped over his. Within seconds, he senses his body relax, his cheek resting on the mess of blond hair on top of him. Aventurine’s heartbeat slows—all feelings and thoughts are overwhelmed by burning compassion. Although he cannot see his face, Ratio can picture the soft expression, regardless of the lack of evidence. “Stay with me tonight.”

#💌 — writing pieces #aventurine x dr ratio #dr ratio x aventurine #hsr fanfic #ratiorine #aventio #hsr #honkai star rail #divider gif: @/anitalenia

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