#anyway. would kill and die for him. no hesitation no questions.

[letsplayballet]

kanji: admits that he's a huge asshole loner out of fear of being rejected

me, crying: haha, that's not relatable! don't be ridiculous! don't look at me

[thisblognameistakennow]

Thinking of hanahaki as suppressed unconfessed love, i think Dedra will actually just. fucking die.

[sugusatosluut]

In every universe?

In every universe..

Synopsis: Angstrom Levy has caused mass destruction to the world by unleashing many invincible variants across your mainstream world. The remaining variants find out you’re alive in this universe and Mark takes matters into his own hands to protect you.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, blood,

Mark breaking up with you was not on your plate of things you were expecting. You’d seen it coming from a mile away. He got with you, then shortly after being with you he had an awakening after Angstrom attacked his family. He spent most if not all his time with Eve Wilkins instead of you, his girlfriend. The one time you complained, he broke up with you. Not only did it hurt, but his choice of words weren’t something you could argue with. Not to mention, his unresolved internal conflict of having to choose you or Eve.

‘I just want to protect you, y/n. It’s better for both of us this way— just at least until I figure everything out.’

Those words were the last you would hear from Mark Grayson, that was until the third day following the attack of the Invincible Variants. They were dispersed across the world, violently killing and playing with their victims until they got bored and destroyed everything in their path. For three days they attacked and for those three days you didn’t hear from Mark. All you knew was that your town was under attack now. You were hiding out with William and his boyfriend, thanking the heavens that there was a clear path to your weirdly untouched apartment. On the way to your apartment a building collapsed, the bricks barely scathing you and William. You were both hurt though. A few cuts on William’s arm and a deep gash on your head. It wasn’t enough to stop you. You weren’t special and you weren’t a super, so you weren’t any help to begin with anyways. That didn’t stop you from trying to make sure the people closest to you and even Mark were okay.

Your mainstream Mark stopped in front of you.

“Y/n are you okay? God your head let me see.” He tried to see your wound.

“William needs help more than I do. Go see him.” You said pointing to William. Without any hesitation Mark went to check on his friend. You took advantage of that time to get away, seeking solitude as at least William and his boyfriend got to safety. Mark most likely would stop by after to get you to safety too… or would he just go fight with eve? You honestly couldn’t answer your own question or reassure yourself with confidence about this.. but this wasn’t about you. The world was in trouble. You made it to your apartment, breathless and your head was pounding still. The gash causing a horrible migraine.

Angstrom Levy was debriefing with the variants.

“I want this world in fear of invincible. I want everything he loves taken away from him. His mother, his brother, Atom Eve, that y/n girl..” he said. Immediately regretting that he slipped up. The fear in his eyes became evident when looking at the variants.

“Y/n’s alive?” Mohawk Mark had a look of utter regret and fear in his eyes.

Sinister Mark rushed in to grab Angstrom by the throat.

“You’re going to tell me where she is. You lie, I’ll know and I’ll kill you.” He said between gritted teeth.

All the Marks were sent into a panic. This was huge. The emotions were so intense. Most of them were dead, the remaining Mark’s now had only one mission. Find you.

“Don’t think she’ll be happy to see any of you.” Angstrom smirked.

Meanwhile in your apartment, you lied down on the couch, arms spread out and head tossed back with a wet cloth over your head. Your vision was just so blurry at this point it was useless to get up. You felt like you’d probably die. You closed your eyes, feeling a presence shortly after. You opened your eyes slightly, lifting the rag. You recognized the bottom of Mark’s suit just barely.

“Mark..?” You asked weakly.

You lifted the rag up higher, noticing it wasn’t your mark, it was sinister mark. Fear struck your heart, your body throwing itself off the couch. This felt like agony, you were already down and this could be your final moments. You struggled to move after falling off the couch.

“Y/n.. you look bad let me see it.” He said crouching on the floor to get closer to you. He reached out and you shut your eyes tightly. The fear paralyzing you. You shouldn’t be feeling this scared of mark but after what you’ve seen, you couldn’t help it. You were expecting to feel the weight of Mark’s strength crushing your throat but instead you felt his rough hands caress your cheeks. He took his gloves off to touch you.

“You’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He said. The shock of seeing you was more than enough for him to decide he wanted to stay.

“You hurt all those people- when you hurt people, you hurt me.” You said wincing.

Sinister Mark completely stopped what he was doing. You said it again.. you said it in his world before the Omni man in his world killed you in cold blood. He lifted the rag off your head.

Mohawk Mark and semi-long haired Mark arrived in your apartment as well. They looked timid, completely opposite of what you’ve been seeing. They came up to you, checking on you.

“She needs help. I’m not letting what happened to her happen again. I just can’t.” Semi long haired Mark said as he propped you up on the counter.

“I’m fine—“

“No! You’re not.” They shouted at you in unison.

You flinched.

Sinister mark tended to your head wound with the needle and thread you had in the kitchen.

“What the hell is this? Why are you acting like you guys didn’t just kill millions of people?” You asked.

“You died in my world—all of our world’s y/n. This is the only world you’re alive in. I came to bring you back home. It’s clear the Mark of your world is a complete idiot. What the fuck is wrong with him? You’re supposed to be with him, he’s supposed to be protecting you!” Mowhawk mark explained.

“Mark and I aren’t together anymore, he’s with eve, wait a minute— I’m dead?” You asked.

“Mhm” sinister mark said.

“In every universe?” You asked.

“In every universe.” Semi long haired mark said.

“He’s with eve? God I hate her, I’ve always hated her.” Mowhawk mark said.

“This is why you need to come home with me.” Mowhawk Mark sighed with a hand on his head.

“With you? She’d thrive better with me. She’s coming with me.” Semi long haired mark argued.

“No. She’s not leaving with either of you, she’s coming with me-“ sinister mark butted in

“Why? So dad can find her and kill her again in your world?” Mowhawk mark shouted.

The Mark’s strted to argue, leaving your wound dressed and treated, they started to argue more, the arguing turned to shoving and shoving turned into knocking out half of your building, you tumbled, falling out of the building and hanging on. You slipped, one of the Mark’s picking you up and saving you. It was Mowhawk Mark. Everything was fine until sinister Mark knocked you both out of the sky. They fought eachother as you plummeted, closing your eyes tightly hoping the impact would just kill you. A pair of arms grasped you tightly.

It was your Mark.

“You’re okay- you’re okay. Let me take care of this.” He said as he placed you down on the ground. It was fairly quick, he left you to kill both of them but they disappeared in a flash, Mark coming back to you quickly. He picked you up and held you tightly. In the heat of the scuffle between the mark variants, your wound reopened, blood was dripping down your head and your clothes were dirty and torn. Mark set you down in his bedroom, the two of you sitting in silence. Mark was standing, pacing trying to get you some clothes and a towel to run a shower for you. You showered and washed the blood off of you, mark tended to you carefully.

“Let me take care of you.” He said lowly.

Mark cleaned out your wound and fixed it up neatly. You were zoned out the whole time, letting him do whatever he needed to help you. He couldn’t do this anymore, the feeling was overwhelming. He needed to do this now especially after what just happened.

“I’m sorry y/n. It’s you and it always has been. I’m and idiot and I shouldn’t have tied myself up in how everyone else is expecting the future to go for me. I know what I want in my future and that’s a life with you. I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you, I should have chosen you. You have every right to be upset with me, but I want you to be in my life, I want you to be my wife and have my kids, I want that in our future. I could have lost you and that scares me. I cant live without you, you’re my soulmate a-a-and that’s okay if you don’t feel the same but that’s how I feel about you.” He whined.

You looked him in his eyes, those sweet deep puppy dog eyes of his. A part of you always knew that you and Mark would be in eachother’s lives in some way, but this was him saying he wanted it in the way that meant he’d protect you, that he’d be with you permanently.

Your slow blink worried Mark, his soft hands touching your cheeks. You closed your eyes, his hands were so soft compared to the other Mark’s. You melted into his touch with your eyes closing. He kissed your nose, then your lips softly. You were kissing eachother passionately, the warmth of his lips making you blush. Your body relaxed, opening for Mark to lay you down passionately. His touch burned with intensity. His kisses made your skin tingle as you had sudden flashes of the Mark’s that destroyed your apartment. This was your Mark, so why do you feel so intense?

You placed a palm on his waistband, sliding your hand down his pants. You held his hardness in your hands as he kissed you, repositioning your bodies so that you were on top of his own. You slid your shirt off, your boobs bouncing as Mark’s oversized shirt came off of your damp body. You were stark naked sitting on top of him. He looked at you in all your glory as you helped him remove his suit. He was holding your body closed, your chests smooshed together as you made out. Your wetness pooled, allowing him to slip it in with ease and comfort for the both of you. He groaned, giving you love bites and hickeys as you relaxed and allowed him to slam into you. You slipped your arms over his own and pushed him down into the sheets. His arms going above his own head. You were riding him intensely, but he was already so close. He grabbed your hips, locking them in his biceps as he slammed into you. You were both close now, Mark’s pants and huffs taking over the once noiseless room. He slowly ground his hips into you, the pulsing signifying that he was just so close. Your stomach tightened and your grip on his shoulders tight. You both came in complete silence as you dropped onto the bed next to him.

“I don’t want to be cliché but I love you. I always have and I always will. In every universe.” He said as he cuddled you, moving your hair out of your face and kissing your temple.

“I love you too Mark.. in every universe.”

[saatorus]

she won't go away— a sukuna fic

art creds to to_0fu (twitter/x)

pairing — college sukuna! x reader

synopsis — of all the people in your chemistry course, you get stuck with ryomen sukuna—the most insufferable, arrogant asshole on campus. he barely does any work, runs his mouth like it’s a sport, and somehow manages to make your life even more exhausting than it already is. if this project doesn’t kill you, he just might.

teaser wc — 1.8k (long for a teaser but i'm desensitised to any word count below like 100k words)

actual wc — 20-25k (gonna try and force myself to stick to this and not go into the 30s..)

tag list status — closed! the fic has been posted

warnings — explicit sexual content!!! sukuna being an absolute vile dick and saying questionable shit (i need him to be at least a lil canon compliant), mentions of reader and sukuna telling each other to go die, reader not being meek and letting him walk all over her, mentions of feeling insecure, multiple crash outs, angst?? will add more as i go along!

“That ‘little homework’ is forty five percent of our grade,” you bite out.

“Don’t give a fuck,” he grunts, sounding bored.

You inhale deeply. “So, I was thinking—”

But he groans, dragging a tattooed hand down his face. “Are we seriously doing this now?”

“Yes, we’re seriously doing this now,” you snap.

He exhales sharply through his nose, glaring. “God, you’re fucking annoying.”

You’re not sure whether you should be offended or hurt. On one hand, obviously as a normal human being, being spoken to like this from a person you’re quite literally talking to for the first time is bound to hurt your feelings. On the other hand, this guy’s dickhead personality is kind of well known through your university. Your grip on your pen tightens, but you keep your voice even.

 “I’m annoying because I want to pass?”

”You’re annoying because you talk way too fuckin’ much.”

 That stings more than you’d like to admit.

You grit your teeth, ignoring the way your stomach tightens, and push forward anyway. “If we divide the research today, we won’t have to meet up as often,” you say, firmly. “I assume you’ll want to do as little work as possible, so let’s just—”

“Holy shit.” Sukuna pushes his chair back with a loud scrape, fixing you with an exasperated look. “Do you ever shut up?”

You blink, stunned.

Toji snickers.

“Oh, come on,” Sukuna scoffs, throwing up a hand. “You’re gonna sit there all wide-eyed like I just kicked your fuckin’ puppy? You started it.”

Your fingers twitch against the table.

“Started what?” you ask, voice dangerously calm.

“This whole thing—acting like I’m some bum ass delinquent who needs a babysitter.” His eyes narrow. “If you wanna play boss, go find some other loser to be a bitch to.”

Your patience snaps. “Or you could just not be a lazy asshole. Do you lack brain cells? You’ve seriously told me to shut up like 5 times in the span of about ten minutes. Do you have a problem where you can’t focus?”

The air between you shifts.

Sukuna’s jaw tics. His expression darkens, something sharp flashing through his eyes, but then his lips pull into something crueler than a smirk—something with edges, something dangerous.

“You think I’m lazy? Got somethin’ wrong with me because I can’t take your nerdy bitching?” he asks, voice low.

You hesitate, but only for a second. “Glad you have the ability to comprehend what I said.”

That makes him grin. “And you think I’m an asshole?”

“Yes.”

He hums, tilting his head. Then he leans forward, just slightly, elbows resting on the table. His voice drops into something smug, mocking—

“Then why the fuck are you still talking to me?”

Your blood boils.

What the fuck is his problem?

You lean forward too, matching him, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “Because I have to, dumbass,” you snap. “I tried to change my group. I begged. I offered to do extra credit. I would have written a whole goddamn thesis if it meant not sitting across from you—but guess what?” You gesture sharply between you. “I’m stuck with you.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Tragic.”

You let out a frustrated breath, gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turn white. “So, as much as I’d love to pretend you don’t exist—”

“Then do it,” he interrupts, tone dry.

You blink. “What?”

“If you wanna pretend I don’t exist, go ahead,” he drawls, leaning back lazily. “Do the whole project yourself. You’ll probably enjoy it, since you’re clearly getting off on playing group leader.”

“Oh, my god.” You clench your fists, barely restraining yourself. “Why are you such a dickhead? Parents not teach you basic respect?”

“Because you don’t shut the fuck up,” he snaps, finally looking genuinely irritated.

Your lips part, incredulous. “I’m literally just trying to do the fucking project? Like any normal human being?”

“No, you’re trying to control shit,” Sukuna says flatly. “Like this is some big deal—like I haven’t passed a million of these useless classes already.”

You stare at him. “You think this is useless?”

He smirks. “Yeah.”

Oh, you hate him.

“Some of us actually give a shit about our grades, Sukuna.”

“You know my name? Cute.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to stay calm, trying not to launch your textbook at his stupid, perfect face. “I don’t care how many classes you’ve passed,” you say, voice taut. “You’re doing this one with me. I care about this project. And if I have to suffer through working with you, you can at least pretend to give a shit.”

He tilts his head, mockingly thoughtful. “Mm. No.”

You exhale slowly, trying—failing—to stop your hands from curling into fists.

“I swear to god—”

“What, huh?” he cuts in, voice dripping with condescension. “You gonna whine to the professor again?” He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Pathetic.”

Your jaw tightens.

He grins, like he’s won something. Like he’s getting exactly what he wants—like this is a game to him, something to toy with, something to waste his time on.

And you refuse to let him win.

So, you straighten your spine, lift your chin, and meet his gaze without flinching.

“Fine,” you say, voice steely. “If you want to half-ass this, be my guest. Just don’t expect me to pick up your slack.”

Sukuna watches you, amused, as if he’s waiting for you to crack.

When you don’t, he smirks.

“We’ll see.”

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to keep your voice level.

“Well, unfortunately for you,” you say stiffly, “you actually have to do your share.”

Sukuna snorts. “Says who?”

“The professor.” You cross your arms. “Since apparently, students have been slacking on group projects, we have to submit proof of collaboration—meeting logs, progress updates, actual proof that we’re working together.”

His expression darkens.

You fight the urge to smirk. Suffer.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he mutters.

“Nope.” You press your lips together, trying to hold back your pure satisfaction. “So, congratulations, Sukuna. You have to meet up with me at least once a week.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, glaring at you like you’re personally ruining his life. “You’re telling me I have to sit through this shit every week?”

“Yep.”

“You specifically?”

“Yep.”

Sukuna groans, dragging a hand through the unruly pink strands of his hair. Then, just as you’re about to remind him that this is literally his problem for being a shit student, he lifts his head—eyes raking over you in a slow, lazy once-over.

And then, he smirks.

You freeze.

“What?” you snap, immediately on edge.

His smirk widens.

“Nah, I was just thinking,” he drawls, tipping his head back against his chair. “If you were hotter, this would be way less painful.”

Your stomach drops.

The words hit you like a slap, and for a second, all you can do is sit there, stunned, completely caught off guard by how casual—how easy—it is for him to say something like that.

Like it’s just true.

Like it’s a fact.

Your fingers dig into your sleeve.

And the worst part? It’s not even the insult itself that stings—it’s the sheer, blatant dismissal. The fact that he looks at you and immediately decides you’re not worth even pretending to be interested in. As if you were hoping for his attention. As if you were seeking his approval.

You clench your jaw.

“Yeah?” you say, voice flat, emotionless. “Well, if you were smarter, I wouldn’t have to carry your useless ass through this class.”

His grin falters, just barely, but you see it—and for once, it’s your turn to smirk.

You lean forward, matching his posture, tilting your head mockingly.

“Guess we’re both disappointed, huh?”

For a moment, Sukuna just stares at you.

And you don’t miss the way his jaw tightens, how his fingers twitch against the table like he’s fighting the urge to rip you apart.

Good.

Then—he exhales sharply through his nose, tipping his chair back slightly, acting unfazed even though you saw the flicker of irritation in his eyes. “Damn,” he muses, voice slow, dragging. “Didn’t know you had a mouth on you.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head. “Didn’t know you gave a shit.”

Sukuna scoffs. “I don’t.”

“Then shut the fuck up and do your work.”

He lets out a low, mean laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today.”

“Generous?” You nearly choke. “You’ve been nothing but a dick since the moment I sat down.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Could be worse.”

Oh, you want to strangle him.

Instead, you inhale sharply through your nose, pressing your palms flat against the table before forcing yourself to stay on track. “Whatever,” you say, shaking your head. “Here’s the deal: we have to meet at least once a week. I don’t care where. I don’t care when. But we need to get the work done, and I need proof that you were actually present—because if we don’t, we both fail.”

Sukuna glares at you, as if the very concept of responsibility offends him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face again. “You’re really gonna be a hardass about this, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You don’t care about failing?”

“Not really.”

Your eyes narrow. “Then why are you even in this class?”

At this, he finally drops his chair back down onto all four legs, leaning in slightly. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he says, voice lower, more serious. “I don’t need this shit. I’m here because my old man thinks I should at least pretend to give a fuck about college.” He smirks, sharp and taunting. “But don’t get it twisted—I don’t actually give a fuck.”

You pause, studying him, trying to piece together the weight behind his words.

Of course, you know he comes from money. Everyone does. The Ryomen family name carries weight, old money, power, prestige—so it makes sense that college, for him, is just some bullshit obligation rather than a means to a future.

Still, something about the way he says it—how bitter it sounds—sticks with you.

Not that you care.

You roll your eyes. “Right. Got it. Poor little rich boy.”

His smirk drops.

For a second, there’s silence.

Then—

“You know what?” Sukuna says, voice eerily calm. “Fine. I’ll meet up with you.”

You blink, a little thrown off by how easily he gives in.

“…Okay?”

“But.” His gaze darkens, and the corner of his mouth twitches, almost like he’s daring you to argue. “You work around my schedule.”

Your stomach twists with irritation. “That’s not—”

“Not my problem,” he cuts in smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t do morning meetups. I don’t do last-minute bullshit. And if you start bitching about how I ‘don’t take this seriously,’” he mocks, voice lilting high, “I will walk out and leave you with an automatic fail. Or whatever the fuck happens to your grade if the other person doesn’t do their part. Got it?”

Your blood boils.

But what can you do? You already tried to get reassigned.

So, through gritted teeth, you say, “Fine.”

Sukuna smirks.

“Good girl.”

a/n: very overused trope but i love college au sukuna. sorry for making him a total asshole but i promise character development!!!!! i looove a good enemies to lovers, as seen with my take on nerdjo lolol!!! also yes this fic is based on "she won't go away" by faye webster and yes this song and it's lyrics will be making a cameo in my fic heheh... hope you all liked the teaser!!

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 8

Prev Next

Author's note: Sorry it took so long. I rewrote this whole chapter because I was just not happy with it. Though I am glad I took the time because this chapter feels more critical than what I would have released. Plus college and work have been a hot mess, so updates might be slower but they should be same quality.

You sat at the breakfast table by yourself. Last night you could barely sleep after burning the blood cover clothes. In the end you had maybe one or two hours of sleep. Giving up at 6:30am you went down early for breakfast.

There was a yawn from the hallway shortly before Barbara rolled into the dining room. She stopped at the entrance to the room, blinking at you. "Oh morning. You're up early."

"So are you. Or do you count this as late?" You leaned back in your chair. One of the books you had gotten with Duke in your hands. There was a decent calm but you still didn't like the quiet.

Barbara rolled closer to you. She stopped when she was sitting next you. Placing her hands on the table, she took a deep breath. You paused your reading to look her. She had a look on her face that told you she was about to ask questions. You shifted yourself away from her slightly, "Don’t. Please just don't."

"I'm trying to find who hurt you (Name). I just... I need a little more information to work with." Barbara leaned forward bracing her arms on the table. "I know you got upset with Dick for asking..."

You scoffed closing your book, "Babs. Please just drop it. I guarantee you that you're not going to like or find anything I tell you useful."

"I want to help you get the justice you deserve." Barbara reached a hand out to you. An olive branch. You almost reached back, almost told her everything but stopped yourself.

The devastation you felt at learning everything was a lie. That the person you trusted not only failed you but almost certainly betrayed you. It was destroying some integral in you. Could you do that to someone? Sure you had committed murder but Davis had deserved for taking part in your suffering. Plus you let him die with his world view intact. But Barbara?

"Would still wish to get me justice if you learn that someone important was involved?" This was your test for her. If she didn't hesitate or ask questions, than you'd tell her. If she showed you she was sure she wanted to go down that road than you'd tell her.

Barbara blinked at question. Eyebrows throughing, she opened her mouth than closed it. You deflated when she asked the last thing you wanted to hear, "What do you mean?"

"Nevermind..." You grabbed your book. It was funny to you in a way that the book you were reading was about a girl discovering her world was lie while you lived through it.

Barbara grabbed your hand. There was desperation in her tone, "(Name), please tell me. I want to help you in anyway I can."

"I don't know their names, just faces." You pulled your hand from hers. This was not going to end well. It was only necessary to punish the guilty, not the innocent. Not Barbara, especially if she was telling the truth.

But what if this was a lie? Your chest tied itself up into knots. Was this another misstep that would tip Bruce off to you knowing he was involved. If Barbara told him, or worse was involved in what happened. Shit, what were you going to do?

She grabbed your hand again refusing to let go, "I don't believe you. (Name) we're here for you, I know we let you down in the past but are we here and trying to do better. Please let us in, tell us what happened. Tell me who hurt you."

A tear slid down your face. Pure fear gripped your chest. This was a test not for her but for you. Did he know about Davis? Had killing the accountant been a mistake? You took a few deep breaths, "Barbara, please just let it go. It's not worth investigating."

"It is. You're worth investigating for."

"No, I'm not." You pulled your wrist from hers. The hollow feeling in your chest was coming back. You needed to get out of the manor, at least for a little bit. It wasn’t safe here. Turning you ran from the room.

You weren't a 100% sure where you go so long as it wasn’t there.

Tim stared at the tablet in his hands, still attempting to process the information from the Davis scene. It was a messy scene. The killer had seemingly playing the blood yet had left no finger print. Even the message on the wall didn't help identify the killer, they had it written with Davis's severed thumb. A truly demented move or a forensic counter measure. Sighing he lowered the tablet back down onto his dresser.

After adjusting his tie, Tim exited his room. Walking towards the dining room he was prepared for another sit down with (Name). What he wasn't prepared for was said girl running into him at full speed. Her hands were pressing into her chest and her breathing was frantic. Tim reached out grabbing her to keep her from tumbling to the floor.

She started to kick and claw at him. Tim held her at arm's length before pulling her in as close as he could. She was clearly have a panic attack of some kind. He focused most of the pressure of the hug on her upper chest where her hands had been digging into. She thrashed around for a bit before going limp in his arms. Tim looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years.

She was slightly shorter than Damian. Yet she seem so much older than she was. No longer was the three year old girl that had stolen his mask. The confused and upset little girl was gone replaced with a haunted ten year old. Tim picked her up.

She was still limp and nonresponsive when Tim brought her to the living room. Setting her on the couch, he grabbed a weight blanket they had for Jason. Tim had always found her the hardest to communicate with. Out of all his siblings she was the one he knew the least about. Attempting to help her now just made that clear. It was concerning.

He was supposed to know almost everything about everyone. The genius prodigy who could tell you anything. Expect for where (Name) was concerned apparently. She really was one mystery after another. But Tim was good at solving mysteries.

"Hey, focus on my voice okay." He got her to look at him. Her stare was vacant and floated everywhere but his face. "Can you tell me five things you see around you?"

"There's..." She blinked, eyes searching the room. "Two cameras in this room, the model suggest that they have audio."

Tim blinked. She was right but those cameras were hidden. One in the bookcase by the TV and the other in the camera rod pointing towards the hallway. Her shaking didn't stop as hers eye moved between the cameras and door. "No hiding spots."

Tim stood up. First he moved the book camera so it was facing the opposite direction. She blinked mildly confused, Tim took that as a good sign. Than he turned the curtain rod so the camera was pointed to the ceiling. (Name) tilted her head to the side. Tim walk back to crouch infront her, "What are five things you can see?"

They ran through the grounding technique. At the end Tim had chosen to sit next to her. It was peacefully quiet say for the occasionally buzz of Tim's phone. He checked it to see some text messages from Barbara, Bruce, and Damian. Tim shook his head turning his buzzer off. (Name) was still shaking. Tim bit his lip, while watching, "Do you want talk about it?"

"No." She shrugged the weighted blanket off her body.

Tim nodded, "Okay. Bruce wants us to come to breakfast."

"Bruce is on business trip until Tuesday." She gave him a weird look.

Tim shook his head, "He came back early after Alfred called about you arriving suddenly. He wants to check that you're okay."

"I don't want to see him." (Name) turned away from him.

Tim blinked slowly. He remembered from before she disappeared that she had always want to see Bruce. On more occasions than he could count she had asked him give the man invites to open houses, art displays, science fairs, and school plays. She had always wanted her dad to be there. For that to have changed, something truly bad must of happened.

Maybe she didn't feel like she deserved to be near Bruce. Tim knew he struggled with that after Junior. It took time to mend his relationship with Bruce. Maybe that's what she needed, time. Tim could give her some time, "That’s okay, but we probably should still get something to eat."

"Right." She nodded at Tim hollowly. She bit her lip slightly, "did Jason come back to the manor last night?"

"No, not yet but I can message him and tell him you're asking about him." Tim pulled his phone out, ready to send the message.

"No, it's fine...I have to go the library today." She started to mess with her fingers looking towards the window. Tim patted her on the shoulder.

"I'll grab something from the kitchen and give you a ride to the library. Any requests?"

"Do we still have GoGurt?"

Jason shoved another piece of burned debris out of his way. Just as suspected the address the guards had given them was also torched. There were signs that the people involved had taken the lighter equipment. Sparking cords hung from the ceiling with old broken cameras. A few still had scalpels sticking out of them.

"Dude what are we doing here?" Roy Harper asked from behind Jason. After storming out of the manor, Jason made a few calls. The Outlaws now walked behind him in the destroyed building. Bizarro, Artemis, Kori, and Roy had all answered his call to track some people down for 'personal reasons'.

"Remember when I told I have a little sister." Jason said while kicking open a door. It opened to what the sources had called the Main Hall. There was rubble blocking the path to the rooms in the hallway. Evidence pointed towards them detonating a small bomb in the hall way. Her cell was located on the left hand side, the door hanging open. There were four other doors down the hallway. Jason only knew what one of them was, which was a locker room across from her cell.

"Me no remember" Bizarro called from behind him. There were sounds of confirmation from the others. It might have been words, Jason honestly didn't care.

"Turns out she wasn't at that boarding school in Shanghai like I had thought she was." He hated having to admit that but these guys would get it. He hoped. They knew how he almost visited her everytime they were China. Now he wished he hadn't stopped himself, hadn't let her go.

"Wait, wha... Oh shit.", Roy put the pieces together quickly. He began to look around the charred remains of the facility with horror. Out of all his friends, Jason figure would understand the most. "She was here wasn't she and not for good reasons."

Jason nodded to Roy assessment, "We think they were preforming experiments to try and create Meta Humans."

"Oh, The poor thing. What do you need us to do?" Kori started to move debris out of the way. Artemis began helping in moving rubble. They made a clearing to the rest of the doors.

Jason sighed shoving open the door to the locker room. All of the lockers were tumbled over. Most of them looked empty but Jason still pointed towards the room, "We're looking for anything that could be a clue as to who these bastards are."

"Misunderstood." Bizarro said with a nod. With that he headed into the locker room. Set the lockers upright, he checked inside for anything useful. Jason pointedly ignore the room Kori entered. He didn't want to see where they kept her.

"Hold up, I need a little more information than that Jace." Artemis grabbed Jason's arm. He grunted gesturing for Artemis to continue, "Were they successful in making a meta human?"

"Yes, she developed a regeneration ability." Jason started towards another room in the hallway. The layout matched what the two guards had told them. Even if the two didn't know what happened in the last three rooms they knew something important in happened in them. They had taken Jason's sister into two of them. The first door not far from her cell and the last door at the end of the hall. The other door next to locker room only the scientists had entered.

"How did she get out of here?" Roy followed close behind. It was a valid question to ask given the security this place had. Jason had counted 25 cameras and they had to get through three security doors to get here.

Jason shook his head, "She stole a bunch of scalpels, gouged a guy's eye out and stole his keys. Right before she killed a completely different guy while running like hell."

"Fuck, she is your sister." Roy breathed. Jason reached over and smacked him across the back of the head. Roy grabbed where he was hit, "Oww dude. What the fuck that was a compliment. You got a badass sis."

"She's the innocent one in this family." Jason sighed as he opened the door to the room they most often brought her to. It looked like a sterile operation room with a water pool in the left corner. There was a musty scent in the room from the still water. Various tools were throw about from knives, to whips, to guns. "She's not supposed to be fighting or going through stuff like this."

"Have there been anytime attempts to recapture her? Traffickers hardly like to let their 'product' go." Artemis words were phrased carefully. Jason blinked before moving towards the next room urgently.

Green was blurring his vision again. This wasn't good, "No. And it's been six days since she escaped."

"They don't wait that long, even for the 'problematic' ones. Something ain't adding up here." Roy joined Jason in the next room.

The room next to the locker room was the most torched. Scorched remains of papers covered the floor with a flipped over filing cabinet. There was also some sparking medical equipment and a computer. The two walked further in. Roy picked up a piece of half burned papers. He blinked as he read it before reading it again out loud, "Subject Origin's recovery rate appears to be two hours for a bullet chest wound after the removal of all shrapnel. All vital organs show signs of being fully healed and operational. Despite lossing brain activity for an hour and fourty five minutes, Subject Origin shows no signs of inversible damage. This is a good sign for Project Raphael. What is Project Raphael?"

"I don't know." Jason picked up another piece of charged paper. Roy moved closer to see the paper. "The operational for Project Raphael was a success, despite Doctor H and Doctor Q's walking out. Subject Origin is showing signs of recovery. New Subjects Alpha through Hotel are being prepared for transplant. Monitoring period of six months set to begin in secondary locations."

"That might explain why they haven't come for her." Roy pulled back rubbing the back of his neck.

Jason gave him a look, "Huh?"

"Yeah, thinking about like these guys. If whatever they're doing has already moved on to different subjects than having the Origin isn't necessary until you need more subjects. So why not just let her go until they know whether the first 'batch' is successful?" Roy shrugged hapzardly.

"Cause that would a massive security threat." Jason gestured to them simply being in the room. "She's already tipped off every vigilante in the area."

"That’s probably why they trashed the place." Roy kicked some of the paper causing it fly up. "There's probably not much to find here."

Jason growled. Roy had a point, they could nothing if they didn't know what they were even looking for. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the paper. "Just grab what you can. We might be able to find something important."

Roy sighed but began to pick up other pieces of paper that seem legible. Jason quickly sent the picture to Tim with a brief note to be ready. Roy held up a paper with only Subject Origin written on it, "Hey all of these refer to them doing some fuck up shit to Subject Origin."

"Just focus on grabbing the things, we'll worry about what they say later. I'll focus on recovering the computers hard drive." Jason was focused on taking deep breaths. If those paper were truly talking about (Name) that meant she had endured worst things than they were originally think. Barely injured his ass, they were shooting her just see how she would recover. Lossing brain activity meant she was medically dead for a whole hour. Green was starting to over take his vision. Doctors H and Q had some explaining to do when he found them.

The computer wouldn't turn on. Jason decided to just take the hard drive. It would be easier to recover information at the batcave anyways. Even if that meant go back to the manor. All he needed was a name or a picture. Something to point him in the right direction.

"Hey Jace, I think we got something." Artemis was calling from the hallway. He grabbed the hard drive before going to check out what they were talking about. Artemis held up a burned student ID for Gotham U's Medical school. "Bizarro found this in a locker. Can't read the Name or see the picture but we got the last 3 digits of a student number."

"Good, it will help us narrow the list down." Jason nodded looking around the place. Roy had been right. There really wasn't much to see that wasn't destroyed. Jason was willing to bet they wouldn't find any real names on the computers hard drive. That was assuming it wasn't wipe.

"I have found this in the sleeping quarters." Kori came out of the room holding a scalpel with dried blood and some decaying matter. Jason half laughed, she actually did gouge out a man's eye to escape. He wasn't sure if he was impressed or horrified. On one hand his sister could defend herself. On the other hand she should never had to do that in first place. Whatever Project Raphael was it had pushed her to a limit Jason never wanted her near again.

Jason got yanked out of his thoughts by his phone buzzing. Unlocking it he saw a text from Tim. "Drop off everything you got from that place at the Batcave. Also be at the library at 2pm, (Name) will be wrapping up there at that time. Pick her up."

Jason looked at the time 11am, they had three hours. "Let’s move."

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[froggiewrites]

Ties That Bind (1)

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: You have spent your entire life preparing to meet your soulmate. Even with the words inked on your skin, you could never have imagined how badly your other half would hurt you, nor how much you'd want him anyway. Content: GN!Reader, Angst, Soulmate AU, Imprisonment, Medieval AU, Yearning, Unwanted Soulmates, Eventual Happy Ending Word Count: 3.2k

They were embedded on your ribcage, just above your heart. Your mother had always thought the placement was romantic, proof that your soulmate was going to be strong and steady, just like your heartbeat. 

Your father was more concerned with the content of the phrase, afraid for your future safety, what the context could be.

I’d kill you this instant if I could.

The words scrawled across your skin marked you as someone’s other half, part of a perfect, unbreakable pair. 

Your mother often insisted you were lucky. She reluctantly admitted your words weren’t ideal, but at least you had them. Some people were born bare, nothing to guide them in the world. Maybe they’d never meet their soulmate, or maybe they never had one at all. But you? You were promised something great.

You tried to share her optimism at first, but the older you became the more you questioned it. What happiness could you find with someone who would say something like that to you, let alone have it be the first thing they ever said to you? A soulmate mark didn’t guarantee you love, necessarily. It simply promised you an equal, another half. Maybe for you that was a combatant.

You never told anyone why you first picked up the sword. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were good at it, great even, and no man or woman that the universe sent to you would take you down without a good fight.

It only felt natural that you’d join the military when you came of age. That you’d have few friends, too focused on the battle ahead. On preparing yourself, no matter how painful of a process it was.

Your words were kept a secret. From the few friends you managed to keep, from your superiors, from those foolish enough to try to court you. Out of shame or fear you didn't quite know. You just knew that you couldn't stand the idea of seeing that familiar look, the one on your father’s face when you mentioned them, like your life was over before it began. Maybe it was.

You were a machine of war. You didn't need fate, you would insist. But you dreamed anyway. Of kind hands, loving smiles, gentle lips meeting yours. You chased them away in the morning, but they always found their way back.

You hated the smell of blood. The sound of metal upon metal, the sound of crushing bones. But you were terribly good at bringing these things about. So you kept moving up in the world, kept gaining accolades you didn’t care for. Maybe someone else would appreciate them more. Maybe someone who wanted them didn’t deserve them. But things that could be don’t matter as much as things that are.

General, they called you. You often wonder if most of them even know your name.

You don’t know if the steps you took lead you here or if this fate is what determined those steps. Maybe it doesn’t matter, considering the destination is the same. But you’d like to imagine there was some choice to it.

The enemy Commander is fury incarnate, slashing through your men like they’re paper. Despite the carnage, you can’t help but admire his strength and grace. There’s something almost hypnotizing about the way he moves, like a dancer.

He’s unarmored. A foolish move, but one you can’t help but admire. Facing death like that is no easy task. He’s a brave man, or a stupid one. Sometimes you think there’s no difference between the two. They live and die just the same.

He easily grows closer, twisting and twirling through the crowd, leaving devastation behind him. You wonder if he knows those men have families they’re leaving behind. You wonder if he cares.

You see no trace of guilt, no hesitation in his swings. For a moment you think you may hear a laugh carried by the wind, one filled with a mania that frightens you. But that cannot be true. No man can take joy in such carnage.

You’re forced to turn your attention away, to clash swords with another man who snuck between your defenses. You may not be stronger than him, but you’re certainly more skilled. You down him quickly, spilling red onto the soil and depriving yet another mother of her son. You stop for only a moment, just one. Just to catch your breath, to remind yourself that you too have a mother waiting for you, a family who would mourn you. It was him or you, you tell yourself, as you always do.

Before you realize it, there is a sword between your ribs.

He is in front of you, menacing and glowing against the vivid orange sky behind him. The sun is setting, obscuring most of him. A shame. You’d love to get a close look at the man who killed you.

You wait for him to retract his blade, to feel the blood start to pour out in earnest. You expect to christen this field with your blood, die with dignity like you were meant to. A warrior’s death is a fine one.

But he doesn’t move.

Instead he leans forward, allowing you to see the sharp cut of his jaw and the cruel twist of his smile.

“I’d kill you this instant if I could.”

Your heart skips a beat at his voice, rough with fury, a deep timbre that rattles you down to your bones.

You look up to see the eyes of your soulmate, a deep and vibrant green, as they glare at you with hatred.

He's beautiful, even more than you imagined.

He wants you dead.

“But you’re needed elsewhere, General. Take care not to bleed out before we get there.”

He doesn’t remove his blade, even as he easily pins your arms behind your back and ties them, even as he carries you as though you were little more than cargo. Trying to stem the flow of blood, you suppose.

You don’t recall most of the ride back. There are horses involved, a carriage or two. Hands poke and prod you, but you can hardly feel them. People speak, but not to you.

You don’t know how long you sleep. You wake up aching, your side burning, your head resting against a cold stone floor. There’s a blanket over you, if you could even call the pathetic scrap of fabric that, and a thin straw mattress under you. You’re behind bars, a zoo animal on display. There’s a tray of moldy bread lying near you. You feel as though there’s acid tearing through your stomach, but you don’t dare to eat.

You try to sit up, but the searing pain quickly tells you that’s a bad idea. You’re trapped here, waiting for whoever or whatever is coming, if anybody is coming at all. Perhaps the Commander simply decided you deserve to rot down here, wanted to deprive you of the warrior's death you deserve.

It feels like hours before you hear the creak of a door somewhere in the distance. You pray that it’s the reaper, come to release you, but you’re not that lucky. Those footsteps march to the beat of war; a soldier is coming for you.

“Good morning, General.” You can’t see him, but you recognize his voice instantly. You can hear his smug grin, the teeth he most definitely has on display. 

You open your mouth to answer, but then it strikes you. You haven’t said a word to him.

He doesn’t know.

He’s captured his other half, his destiny, and locked them in a cage, and he’s none the wiser. If he did, would he free you? You doubt it. Disloyal soldiers with weak hearts, those that can be swayed, rarely reach the rank of Commander. Commanders will give their lives to the cause. Why wouldn’t he give yours?

You could tell him anyway. Torture him with it, let him know everything he’s giving up, everything he’s cursed you both to. A lifetime alone for him, one cut woefully short for you. 

Or you could…spare him. A small act of mercy. You could carry the burden alone. Would he even have words, if you never spoke to him at all? Maybe he’d simply think he didn’t have a soulmate, live the rest of his life not knowing what he’s lost. Maybe that’s for the best. He can be normal. Happy. And while it’s hard to wish for happiness for a man who wants you dead, it’s quite easy to wish it for the man you’ve been waiting for.

You close your lips, closing your eyes and focusing on nothing but the sound of your own breathing. You can be merciful. You can be kind. Someone has to be.

“What, you’re ignoring me? How disappointing, General. I heard great things about you, I didn’t think you’d do something so childish.” There’s irritation in his tone, but something deeper as well. He’s disquieted by your silence, and he doesn’t know why. Maybe even though the man doesn’t know you, his soul does. It reaches out to yours, begging you to speak, begging you to finish the connection the universe has prepared it for. Your own soul does the same, your heart pounding as words threaten to spill from your lips. Nothing with meaning, just mindless babble, anything to let him know. But you wouldn’t be a soldier if your willpower was so weak. You do not speak.

“You know, General, I really respected you. I saw the way you fought. You cut people down without hesitation.” You wince at that. “But you aren’t cruel about it. That’s important in a warrior. The joy of a fight shouldn’t come from the inevitable death.”

There is no joy in fighting for you. It’s easy not to revel in cruelty when you can hardly stand to hold a blade in your hands after you pull it out of some poor bastard’s chest. You can’t imagine finding anything worthwhile in the heat of battle. You’re only here because of him, a curse put in place by some higher power that’s enjoyed watching you struggle, enjoyed watching you retch and sob after your first kill, the way the light left your eyes the same time it left the body.

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. Those memories are of no use to you now. You need to find out how to either get out of here or speed up your execution so your suffering isn’t prolonged.

“It’s a shame to watch a worthy opponent die in such a shameful way.” It hurts worse, the way he sounds like he means it. There’s genuine pity in his voice, a sort of kindness his hardened exterior can’t hide. “But orders are orders, I suppose.”

You want to disagree, but the orders that put you in this cell aren’t that different from the ones that put you on the battlefield, and you hate to be a hypocrite. You shift, trying to put less pressure on your broken ribs, but you simply make the pain worse. You can barely bite back a whimper. You hear a sigh behind you, a small sign of defeat.

“Don’t kill yourself before one of us can, General. And try to roll onto your left. You have less bruises on that side.” Those marching steps lead away from your cell, down the hallway and back out into the sunlight you’ll never see again. With great effort, you roll onto your other side to find it is more comfortable that way, or at least less agonizing. You may be able to sleep this way, if you’re lucky.

The Commander doesn’t return before you fall asleep, but a meek little footsoldier brings you sustenance at some point. You hesitate to call the strange foul-smelling broth food, but it’s something. You can’t sit up to eat it yourself, so the poor lad props you up slightly, wincing when you groan.

“Sorry,” he murmurs nervously. “You need to eat.”

“No need to apologize. You’re not the one who stabbed me.” You huff out a laugh, which only makes it hurt worse. He stares at you with widened, fearful eyes, and you’re not sure if he’s scared you’ll hurt him or that you’ll drop dead on the spot. When he brings the mug to your lips with shaking hands, he does so a little too quickly, and you can feel the unpleasant sting of a burned tongue. You don’t bother to pull back or to stop drinking. What’s one more injury?

He only pulls the cup away when it’s entirely empty, before quickly standing and beginning to scurry out. He pauses for a moment once he’s past the bars, safe from the injured beast trapped behind them. “Someone will be back to change your bandages soon.”

“No, they won’t.” They don’t actually intend to keep you alive in here, you know. Sure, you making it to your scheduled execution would be a nice morale boost, but they’re not going to waste resources on treating a prisoner of war.

He doesn’t respond, and you can hear him skittering out of here, away from the stench of your blood and the rotting cot beneath you. It’s too soon to say the place reeks of death, but the stale air is a reminder that it will come soon.

You’re asleep when the next person enters, and you haven’t even had the chance to open your eyes before there are hands on you. You whimper, from the pain and the fear, the exhaustion weighing you down, but a familiar voice gently shushes you. “It’ll be quick, I promise.” The Commander’s hands are callused and rough, but they’re soft against your skin, and pleasantly warm. You manage to crack open your eyes to see his handsome face above you, his good eye narrowed in concentration as he takes in your state. “It’s going to hurt, but you’ll feel better after.”

You can see bandages on the ground next to him, as well as a set of clothes. They seem a bit too big, but it’s certainly better than the bloodied rags they left you with after they stripped you of your armor. He moves with the confidence of someone who has done this hundreds of times before. Was the Commander once a wartime medic, patching up his fellow soldiers? Or was he simply adept at patching up his own wounds?

“This is going to be the worst part,” he murmurs. You feel something cool against your torn skin, a pleasant chill running through you before the burning starts.

You scream.

It’s embarrassing, really, a soldier being reduced to screaming and sobbing simply from a bit of antiseptic. But whatever this is stings much worse than the salves back home, and your wound is much worse than any you’ve suffered before. You feel the burn down to your bones, piercing your marrow and turning it to ash. You’re losing something vital, part of your foundation, threatening to collapse you entirely.

It isn’t until his hand brushes your cheek that you realize you’re sobbing.

“I know,” he whispers. Part of you is furious at the pity in his voice. Another craves it, craves any sort of gentleness or comfort, any distraction from the pain. “It’s awful, it really is. It’ll be over soon, and then we won’t have to worry as much about infection.”

You’re not worried about infection. You’re not worried about making it out of here at all right now. You’d gladly welcome the executioner’s axe, embrace the hangman as though he was your oldest friend. Anything to make it stop. Anything at all.

It feels like hours before the burning subsides, but logically you understand it couldn’t have lasted more than a minute. In that time, you seem to have grabbed his hand, and strangely, he allowed you to. It is only once your whimpers quiet that he removes his fingers from yours and gets to work redressing you. The scratch of the gauze against your exposed muscle and viscera feels like a gentle kiss compared to your earlier suffering. He has to lift you to fully wrap you, his rough hands pressing against your very broken ribs as he unhurriedly pulls your bandages tighter. While he does not rush, he does not linger to revel in your pain.

He pulls the oversized shirt onto you, and the scent of soap envelops you. A welcome distraction from the stale air. It’s a little stiff, the texture a little rough, but you certainly won’t complain. For the first time since you arrived you feel protected, as though they hadn’t stripped you of your armor. A loose pair of pants follows, but the best gift the Commander has given you today is a warm pair of woolen socks. You can finally feel the chill from the stone beneath you begin to fade, a soft warmth beginning to fill you. You don’t know if it’s from the fabric surrounding you or from the gesture, but either way you cannot help the smile that makes its way onto your face, the picture of contentment.

“Feeling better?” His voice is kinder than you expect.

You just barely stop yourself from expressing your gratitude, the pain and subsequent relief blurring your mind and softening your heart. The clarity only comes when you see a small light in his eyes as your mouth opens, an innocent excitement at the idea of hearing your voice. Even though he doesn’t know why he so desperately wants to hear it. You press your lips together, instead giving him a tight small and a nod.

He sighs, his gentle bedside manner dissolving nearly instantly. An enemy remains. “Still not speaking?”

You shake your head softly, giving a small shrug and hissing through your teeth at the sting that follows the movement.

He lets out an offended huff. “You spoke to one of my men.”

You nod.

“But not me?”

Another shake and an apologetic smile.

“I see.” His lips press into a tight line, disapproval radiating off of him. He clearly thinks this is some kind of snub, an act of rebellion. You were never prone to such things, but how could he guess that? You’re a stranger, no matter how tightly you’re linked by fate.

He doesn’t speak again, silently ensuring your bandages aren’t too tight and ensuring the clothes fit as well as they can. You can see him quietly simmering with rage, upset by your apparent rejection, but you can’t feel it in any of his actions. He’s putting it aside for you, even as an ungrateful stranger. There’s a small ache in your chest, a small shred of longing you try to bite down. You had always hoped your soulmate would be kind.

He leaves without a word, only a small grunt that you think is his form of goodbye. 

There’s nothing left to do but wait. For tomorrow, for his next visit, for your inevitable end. And so you allow yourself to fall back into a fitful sleep, dreaming of a different life; gentle touches, warm smiles, and the way the sunlight would dance in green hair.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[imnotditzy]

Captain Marvel doesn’t know what a normal death is

(TW: mentions of death, brief mentions of murder gang violence)

No but really if you ask a street rat, literal living lighting, a bunch of ancient immortal people and a really wise king from a bajillion years ago, why would a reasonable answer be an option?

Like Billy thinks that if you’re 60 one of your feet are in the grave. Why? Because that was the life expectancy in the 50s. He's also homeless so he’s already more exposed to crime anyway, I wouldn’t doubt he thinks death by “minding someone else’s business” is common enough to be recorded as such in its own category and not murder. Also, he literally fights supervillains who try to kill him everyday? His view is skewed so much, that the damage might be irreversible. 😭

Moving on, Marvel is literally sentient magic. They can’t die, and if they can it’s not a thing that’s very easy to come by. The amount of work it takes to even do the equivalent of a paper cut is excessive, the concept of them dying would take a lot to set in. And they are a lost cause when it comes to knowing what a normal death is. The only “normal” deaths they’ve really paid attention to are the deaths of the Champions…and none of them had anything close to a normal death. (One of them literally gets hacked in two 💀)

The acronym; do I even have to explain? All of them besides Solomon, Heracles and Achilles literally haven’t died. And literally no hero in Greek mythology dies normally. Solomon is the only one who’s died of natural and normal causes, but he was alive in the BCE. That is a long time ago.

Now, Combine all of them together and what do you get? Captain Marvel: someone who does not have a correct interpretation of typical death!

This would probably concern others around them. Especially the JL, because I feel like Captain would mention this randomly.

—

(Green Lantern [Hal] and Captain Marvel were sent to investigate a crime scene together and they stumble upon the body.)

Captain Marvel: Aw…seems like their time came. (Captain’s got a sympathetic but large smile.)

Green Lantern (looking down at the stabbed body): Um, Cap?

Captain: It’s a shame. But I guess nothing could be done…

Lantern: Captain, they were stabbed???

Captain: Oh, I know. Happens to the best of people, right?

Lantern: Uh —No? Captain this is…worrying??

Captain: They’re in a better place now. Maybe.. ☺️

—

(They’re now back at the watchtower for a debrief, but it somehow turned into Batman questioning Captain Marvel.)

Batman: Captain can you explain why the body was not concerning to you?

(Batman’s staring at Captain intensely.)

Captain (confused smiling): …because there was nothing to worry about?

Batman (raising an eyebrow): Why?

Captain (hesitant): Because there’s probably not a serial killer or whatever running around? They killed an insider, it was gang violence.

Batman: How were you sure?

(Captain looks up to the side like their remembering before shrugging)

Captain: …Oh, I’ve seen similar bodies like that before.

—

(This occurrence is reason #5738 on why Captain Marvel cannot interact with civilians. But in Captain’s defense, how was Billy supposed to know lifespans updated?)

Captain Marvel (pointing at an “old” lady): Oh, she’s 62?

Citizen: Yeah?

Captain (sympathetic): Oh. It’s good she’s still on her feet though.

Citizen: What?

Captain: She’s thriving for her age, right?

Citizen: C—Captain Marvel, she’s 60 not 99. She just retired.

Captain (confused): Really? Why would they have her working so long if she’s nearing the end? (The lady turns around with this expression on her face: 😟)

Citizen: Because she wanted to?? Captain are you ageist?

Captain (never heard that word a day in his life): Uh, I don’t think so? What does that even mean??

(The media later somehow gets ahold of the footage and it becomes such a scandal it reaches the JL; Captain Marvel is then forced to have a public statement. At the giant press conference, Mary and Freddy are there standing next to him and laughing.)

Captain Marvel (whispering): Shut up, it’s not like you thought any different.

Miss Marvel (also whispering): Yeah but we’re not stupid enough to say it to their face, Captain.

Captain Marvel (still whispering): It’s not like you guys would have any less scandals than I do if you were in the media as much as I am.

Reporter (impatiently): Ahem. Marvels?

(Both siblings look like deer in headlights while Freddy laughs at them. They both apologize in unison.)

(Captain then clears their throat, they look like they’re dreading this.)

Captain Marvel: I am terribly sorry for what I said about [62yo citizen]. I hadn’t intended to be rude, but I seemed as such because I had a gap in my…

Solomon (telling him what to say): …Knowledge. I was under the assumption that the average lifespan wasn’t much longer than a person’s 60s…

Captain (repeating what Solomon’s saying): I now know that, while once true, that information is outdated.

(Billy went on for three more minutes, only stopping because the DTC got too bored and people were starting to give him funny looks.)

[cod-fishing]

“Would you want to be buried with your family, Si?”

Simon looks over at Johnny, eyebrows raised at his lovers random interjection. He gives him a once over, eyes narrowing a little bit, trying to find what could have possibly brought that question on. Finding nothing, Simon turns back to his book.

Johnny watches him scan a few lines before replying. “Can’t.”

Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why not?”

“They thought I was dead,” he replies simply, almost absentmindedly as he flips a page. Johnny’s confusion only grows until,

“Washington got your spot,” he says with dawning horror.

Simon says nothing, just humming an assertion. Johnny finds himself in a position he is in far, far too often as Simon’s closest confidant- utterly horrified, while Simon shrugs, already having worked through it with a therapist years ago, and numb to the sheer tragedy.

Simon turns another page, and Johnny breathes through the instinct to start screaming. A man who betrayed him, tortured him, and killed his entire family. Buried in his families plot, where Simon deserves to be someday. Where Simon was supposed to be able to fucking rest, someday.

Eventually, when he’s more in control, Johnny opens his mouth again, and it only comes out a little bit grated.

“So if you die, what would you like?”

Simon snorts at the ‘if’, and finally looks back at Johnny, considering him.

“What do you want?” Simon asks simply.

Johnny just looks at him for a second. Blinks, licks his lips. Opens his mouth to tell the truth, but pussies out at the last second.

He cracks a smile, but Simon can see the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Ah, I dunno. Just curious.”

Ghost considers the obviously bullshit answer, but decides to allow the out, turning back to his book. They lapse into a comfortable silence, Johnny going through his gear for their mission tomorrow, Simon flipping through his novel.

“What made you ask, anyways?”

Johnny stops in his movements, and looks over to Simon. The room is technically his, as the commanding officer, but it's strewn with evidence of Johnny’s place in his life. Clothes, notebooks, weapons. His shave kit in Simon’s bathroom, cause the lighting is better, and because its pretty nice to have Simon walk up behind him with a soft touch to his back while he cuts his hair, making sure he hasn't missed anything and leaving him with a kiss pressed to his shoulder.

"I'm thinking about retiring," he blurts out.

Simon looks over, and blinks.

"And…and I want my ashes scattered in the highlands. Unless you want to be buried next to me," he says, feeling out of breath at his confession. "That would…that would be good too,” he near-whispers.

Simon puts down his book.

“But if you wanted to be with you family, I could probably rob the grave and get Washington out of there, and put you back in. I’ve done crazier stuff.”

Simon’s mouth curls just a bit. “Come here, Johnny.”

He hesitates, for just a moment, feeling raw and vulnerable. But Simon pats his thigh, and Johnny could never resist that call. Curling up on Simon’s lap, he hides his nose in his neck, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders of his best friend, his lover.

Simon embraced him back, pulling him close against his chest. They stay there for a moment, tension slowly draining from Johnny, and eventually Simon whispers.

“I’ve had it in my will that burial rights go to you for a year already. And as for retirement…”

He pulls back, and Johnny does to, looking into his warm eyes, shockingly open in this moment.

“You let me know when, and I’ll follow.”

[gibberishfangirl]

WINDBREAKER | i’d let the world burn for you

Synopsis ✰ which boys i think would relate to that song lyric “id let the world burn, id let the world burn for you” and why i do or don’t see it happening

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Choji Tomiyama, Jo Togame

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩 -> okay hear me out. i see this being 50/50. i feel like Sakura is such a crash out at times especially when it involves you. this man will 100% crash out over you and bring hell on whoever hurts you. on the other hand… he is main character and is very heroic which is why i cant see him fulllyyyy resonating with this lyric. a hero simply cannot unleash hell onto everyone. but if its just targeted towards one individual he’s for sure going to jail for attempted murder. he’d most likely succeeded tbh so maybe not even attempted

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩 -> yes. no doubt about it. HEAR ME OUT. i know he’s also a hero and he’s a leader so he shouldn’t sacrifice everything he has for just one person. BUT HE WILL ANYWAY. this man is ready to die on that hill if it means you’re safe. being in love and having someone be so dear to him brings out a whole new side to him. if it had been any other person, definitely not, he’d be more rational. however, since it’s you and he’s madly in love, he’ll 100% set the world on fire himself. Ume is ready to stand up for the ones he loves. no question about it, he’ll take extreme measures without hesitation.

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩 -> okay. i want to say yes but in reality it’s like maybe 60%? i’m a helpless romantic and Suo is practically the definition of romantic so i like to believe he would for the plot. when Suo loves he loves hard and desperately. he’s the kind of man to sacrifice himself more than anything. he loves you like a bruno mars love song. yk grenade, the song, we all know it. that’s him. that’s just his song. he gives the vibe of sacrificing himself than the world for you.

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩 -> …no. DONT HATE ME but i dont see it happening at all. i mean he’d most likely die for you and take a bullet for you and all that romantic stuff. BUT SACRIFICE THE WHOLE WORLD?? now that’s a bit extreme in his book. he loves you and would die for you. off topic but Nirei just gives me the vibe that he would want to be buried next to you so that way the two of you can find each other in every timeline <3

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩 -> have you seen this man during his villain arc??? it’s a clear cut yes. this mf will actually kill someone with his own bear hands for you. he’d carry all the blood and taint himself if it meant you would be okay. he prioritizes you more than anyone else, so he will absolutely lose it over you. if anyone even had the audacity to put their hands on you. it’s game over. all that development he’s had and has worked on will vanish in less than a second. he’s the core definition of ‘0 to a 100 real quick’. it’s not even worth testing.

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩 -> this song was made for him. literally his fucking song. hes made himself the bad guy before and he’ll do it again. especially for your sake. Togame might be a nice guy but dont ever mistake that for anything more. just because he can have a polite mouth doesn’t mean he won’t completely pummel someone into a state of oblivion just for making you uncomfortable. biggest crash out next to Sakura.

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

"Have you ever thought how easy it would be for us to end the other one and never get caught?"

I'm ngl, I should do something about procrastinating (◞ ‸ ◟ㆀ) anyways, tagging: @shintaru @ravenwritten @sylith @bfwooin @zyart-jpg @i-nssomniia @kuchisabishiiiii

HYUK:

Honestly, at first Hyuk thought he heard you wrong. He's half-asleep on your chest, while you were gently playing with his hair, brushing it with your fingers or curling his dark folds around your digits.

And then you suddenly asked....that.

"Have you ever thought how easy it would be for us to end the other one and never get caught?"

Your question caught him off guard, especially your sweet tone and whisper, like you were asking if today's date. Hyuk lifted his head from your chest, his chin resting on your skin.

"To be entirely honest..." His voice trailed off, as if he was unsure whether it would be alright to admit it or not.

His hesitation made your chest beat faster. You were joking, of course. You asked that as a joke. It was totally just an intrusive thought- but with Hyuk...He was joking too, right?

He opened his mouth to speak again. "I've thought about what I would do if you were to die."

You blinked at him, his confession coloring you surprised. "Really? And what would you do?"

Hyuk stared at you for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. His mind shrifted to the old thoughts he had kept locked in his heart. It was unpleasant thought. No, it was more than just unpleasant.

The amount of effort he put in just to make you fall for him, just so you could get interested by him — whether it's the amount of times he freed his schedule just to see you, when he took you to playgrounds and proudly showed off his stunts, randomly asking to hang out with you, casually showing up in front of your house, memorizing your schedules, maybe he's bit guilty of obsessively having all his attention on you too.

It's weird to others maybe, but to him, it was normal. It was his calling to make you his, to understand you throughoutly and it was also his calling to don't lose you.

Hyuk usually didn't care about death as any normal person would. Maybe because he grew up in environment where death wasn't taken as seriously as it should have been, maybe because that thought didn't occupy his mind often. But maybe, just maybe, that wasn't case with people he was permanently fixated on.

Deep beneath that heart, he held a special place for people that he loves, in his own ways, and Hyuk isn't the type to just...get used to them not being here.

So what he would do if you died?

The thought is terrifying enough as it is for him, but confronting that question to give an answer was harder than he had thought it would be. "I wouldn't date again" he mumbled, loud enough for you to catch his words but quiet enough for the intimate moment. "I would still text you and send you videos of my stunts."

You let out small "aww", it was rare to see Hyuk being this open but i guess that's how he usually is half-asleep — clingy and open.

"But baby..." You awkwardly called him. "That wasn't the question....I still appreciate your answer though."

After hearing that, Hyuk furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and adjusted his position. "Then what was the question?"

"Have you ever thought how easy it would be for us to end the other one and never get caught?" You repeated for him.

He immediately flopped his head back on your chest, replying with "Nah" but then he slowly looked at you, raising his eyebrow slightly. "Have you?"

"Well..." You glanced away, rubbing your neck in awkwardness, purposely ignoring Hyul's soft gasp. "As a joke, kinda...That was when you scooped me as your backpack on your bike and pedalled like we had nine lives. At that time? I kinda wished to kill you but jokingly!"

Hyuk scoffs, closing his eyes. "Oh wow..." Honestly, he isn't surprised. You did almost bruised him from how hard you were holding him back then.

You continued to caress his hair gently, humming to yourself. In the midst of random prank question you heard from tiktok, you got such intimate moment for yourself and your boyfriend admitting he'd stay loyal to you even after death. What else could have possibly made you happier?

Wooin:

On a beautiful starry night, where moon blesses the streets with its silver light, when people are taking walk outside, kids playing football on playgrounds—screaming and laughing together, couples going on dates despite the time of the day, enjoying the warmth of the night....

You're stuck in your home with your sadistic, son of a bitch boyfriend, who decided making you watch horror movie with him was the best plan for indoor date.

That's how you ended up snuggled up to him, wrapped in the blanket like a burrito, your eyes wide in pure horror, fear nestled in your very bones. Wooin? He had smug grin on his lips, arm wrapped around you—pulling you in his embrace, his eyes switching from glancing at you to watching the movie, that didn't even scare him even a bit.

Honestly, he knows he's sick for enjoying the moment you're so terrified at but the way you're holding onto him like he's the safest space for you right now, the way you're cuddling with him, the way you're jumping at jumpscares and cussing out the ghost who, apparently, made you believe in existence of god as you were repeatedly begging deities to spare your heart from whatever the hell he picked—all of this was so amusing to him.

His eyes darted to the TV again, watching the way a main character killed his own wife in the fear of her being a witch and get away with it. Oh, that guy was nutjob, definitely. But then what could Wooin be called after asking you stupidly terrifying question at the worst (right) time possible?

"This made me think how easy it is to kill your own lover and get away with it. Have you ever thought of it?"

Your eyes immediately shoot up to look at him like he grew three separate heads, giving him most offensive side-eye he could ever get from human being, then turned your head to face him. "If you don't stop purposely trying to get me scared, I will kill you."

"Oohh." Wooin grinned. "Is that a threat? From you?"

"Very much so." You answered and turned your head back to the TV.

He hummed to himself, his thumb brushing your thigh. "But I could—"

"Say one more word and I'll suffocate you like this guy did in the movie."

"....." He opened his mouth again. "You know what? I don't dislike that idea."

And that's how he ended up sleeping on the couch instead of bed with you, since you claimed he was going to bring bad luck to you now–after all the nonsense he sprouted from his mouth.

JOKER:

Training with him was always amazing way to spend time, since both of you are quite athletic. But as always, his training schedule was too exhausting for you—as someone who wasn't interested in boxing nor weightlifting.

So watching him train after taking a break? Now we're talking. Usually, you'd be too distracted by his muscles, his biceps, the way his abs glistened with sweat but now? Your thoughts were occupied by certain question that intruded your brain.

So being too comfortable with him, you didn't mind asking it. "Hajun."

At the mention of his name, he glanced st you mid lifting, humming in response.

"Have you ever thought about how easy it would be for us to end the other one and never get caught?"

That's it. You did it. And almost made him drop the bar on himself.

His eyes meet yours, processing the question you just asked. Then he went back to lifting his weight while answering you with question. "Is that one of your intrusive thought too?"

Chuckle gets past your lips, barely audible. This poor man had to deal with lot of weird questions from you, huh? "No, this thought might be wanted."

He stops once again, side eyeing you before sighing in pure agony. "This is why I didn't want you to meet Hyuk. You got affected by his homicidal impulses."

"What impulses?!" You burst out laughing, leaning forward out of habit.

Opposite from you, he was NOT amused. Probably because of the recent race he had where Hyuk messed up everything by trying to have fun. Hajun, without a hesitation, repeated. "Homicidal."

He scoffed at your careless reaction, not seeing where he's coming from. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just..." You got yourself together, your laughter dying down. "I wasn't expecting you to insult Hyuk like that."

"It's not insults. It's facts. And you're getting influenced too." He explained, completely putting down the weight on the floor. "So, please don't act on your homicidal impulses. I actually have plans for our future."

[sweetteaanddragons]

Maedhros in Troy AU: Outcome

Okay, so with the Maedhros in Troy AU, I have spent way more time on Maedhros than Odysseus.

BUT.

I think Odysseus might be the key to how this whole situation gets resolved.

Consider:

Odysseus finds Elured and Elurin and tries to find a way out of the woods. In the process, he comes across some of the other refugees from Doriath, who are very relieved to see their princes and very grateful to the man who rescued them. For lack of better ideas, Odysseus stays with them.

(He doesn't recognize these stars. How is he supposed to get home if he can't even recognize the stars - )

The refugees head to Sirion. Eventually, they manage to get past the language barrier well enough to communicate.

None of the elves know where Ithaca is, sorry, or how he might have gotten here, they don't know anyone who would know - except the Valar, of course, ha-ha -

The who? Odysseus asks, very interested.

Oh, well, the Valar, these superpowered not quite all knowing beings who live across the ocean -

That ocean? he asks, pointing, just to be sure.

(This is the man who saw Aeolus's island and decided he was going to climb it. Who was told to go to the Underworld and didn't hesitate. He is absolutely going to try to sail west.)

This is a bad idea, the elves say hastily. Everyone who has tried to sail west has been forced to turn back or die.

Odysseus tries anyway.

He is forced to turn back.

He keeps trying.

In between attempts, he picks up some knowledge of the Silmaril. He doesn't care about it particularly; he just can't avoid picking up on some things about it.

Like the fact the Valar, at least at one time, badly wanted it.

Odysseus steals the Silmaril and makes another attempt.

The Valar have so many questions for him when he shows up.

He does get back to Ithaca, though.

In less than twenty years.

(The Valar, in fixing this situation, also get Maedhros back. There are many awkward things about this situation; the Valar have the Silmaril but don't really consider themselves to rightfully hold it given how Odysseus got it in the first place; Maedhros is an exile who is not supposed to be in Valinor and who does not want to be here, and now they have to decide what to do about that - )

(It does not help the awkwardness that Maedhros, who has had to deal with Zeus's tantrums over his refusal to kill a baby, Aphrodite's tantrums for reasons he's not sure he wants to understand, Athena's demands to know where Odyssues is, Hephaestus and Ares being what they thought was helpful, Apollo's curse on Cassandra, and everyone's general surprise when he didn't think human sacrifice was the best solution for placating the storms - )

(Maedhros looks at the Valar thoughtfully and decides that, for all his problems with the Valar, he respects the fact that they are not the Olympians.)

(The Valar are deeply concerned with what they hear about the Olympians.)

(This may influence their decision that while the Trojans can't stay here-here in Aman, they can stay in Middle Earth.)

(Maybe with the Edain on that island they were thinking of raising . . .)

[leyaholmes]

Verso Imagine ; I will never let you go away from me again

I do not recommend to read this before you had finished Act 1 and 2

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I try my best, please be gentle. And I don't have finish the game yet, so some description are going to be unclear because I don't now the why from the how and the for what of the question.

This is an idea, not my best, but the best I can do without having finished the game yet.

It takes me 4 days, I am not gonna lie, I'm happy to be free form this story now TvT

TW : mention of dead, near-death experience, mourning, angst but fluffy ending.

You were part of the expedition Zero with Verso. For the first expedition everyone was naive enough to be happy to "save the world". Nothing would had never prepared you to the truth.

At first, neither you or Verso see a problem to the immortality. It was before realizing you were having to kill everyone who will ever try to save the world too for keeping it. Quickly, you had decided to live with your life choices but without hurting anyone who had never the luck to choose.

Renoir was a problem. This man will always be a problem as long as he will breath. So when it was appearing clearly that Verso will not continued to help him, he had tried to separate you and Verso. Killing you was according to him the best way to do it. Renoir was convincing himself that without you Verso will finally see the true.

Tough luck, you were not likely to make his project easier and Verso was not to. You had would to run away with Verso by your side. But Verso, stubborn he was, only desired to fight his father. He convinced you to go away without him, saying he will found you later. Accordinf to him, your priority was to escape from Renoir. You had hesitated a long time before finally leave without him. After all he seemed like if he was knowing what to do more than you.

When he found you, three weeks after this event while you were sure you had let him die, he was looking exhausted. But the main shock come from the scar on his face. It was still fresh. Worried for him, you proposed you help that he refused. He had passed the night alone, in an isolated corner of your makeshift camp.

Since, your life with Verso was "peaceful". If we take apart all the remorse, the pain and the distress you shared. The life was certainly boring and dangerous sometimes, but you were grateful to be both in this, and not alone. Being alone in this world where the time had seemed to stop for the objects, when for trade with the Gestrals you have to fight (Monoco who the only hobby was to fight everything and everyone was just the icing on the cake) and with the giants Nevrons. Even if it's on some point of view this was an amazing place and that in despite of everything you were liking Gestrals, anyways, you also had good reasons to go crazy.

Your relation-ship with Verso was complicated. He did not share anything about his life, the conversation you can have were always vague and unclear and he was having this odious habit to disappear without any warning. But, he was having a good heart, always carrying even if he kept distance between you and him, always ready to help and always the first to have problem for his friends. Like this day when you were looking for Esquie's stones and a Nevron taken both of you by surprise. But most of the time he was distant with you when he was more open with Monoco or Esquie. Till an event that had made him change his behaviour…

Verso had disapeared again when you chosed to do something for keeping busy your mind. It was better than waiting him to return to the camp with anxiety. You decided to hunt some Nevron that were making your camp in danger those last days because pf their proximity. During the hunt you had faced a Nevron really strong. Type of them you usally avoid because they are so tall that they can eat you. You had tried to bypass it, but a wrong sum of distance made you fell. The Nevron turned to you and throwed his hand on you. You started to run but can not escaped from the giant hand. You felt your body been lift in the air. You tried to cut the Nevron's fingers but your sword had strayed on the ground. You used an another sword but it was more little than the one you had losted.

At the same time, you saw the mouth came closer. Your first thought in this situation was to Verso because if you die like this he will be alone. And the second was that you will absolutely not die by beenning eat. The Nevron maked a strident scream as you cut permanently one of his finger. In a desperate way to slow uour fall, you stabed your dagger in the Nevron body, which cut it all the way down because of your weight and the strenght with which you had fallen on him. You had done the half of the distance which separated you from the ground when your dagger go out the Nevron's body. You fell free during less than ten metre. Your body touched the grown with violence as you heard disgusting sound from your left leg. If the bones were only broken you could were lucky. The Nevron was now focus on his injuries more than you and gathering what was remaining of your determination, you ran untill the forest where you had will at least be protect from the giant Nevron.

Finally safe the adrenaline had started to leave slowly but surely your body as your leg started to hurt more and more. When you had realized you were lost, it was clear that you will not survive. You were ignoring where Verso can be, and anyway, you were alone in this forest. You were laying against a tree, closed eyes trying to forget the pain in your body as you were accepting the fatality.

When you regained consciousness you were laying on something definitively more comfortable than roots. You started to look for Verso around you but trying to move was harder than you expected.

"Do not dare to move, you have had enough issues today don't you think ?"

That was Verso voice without a doubt. Now he had changed his position you perfectly saw his figure against the light. He helped you to sit up a little more straight as he holded you a bowl of water.

"How did you find me ?" You asked once you were rehydrated.

Verso placed the bowl and looked at you. His gaze was grave. His skin seemed pale.

"You are very lucky because for the first time in my whole life I had decided to listen to a presentiment that made me looking for you. My way had crossed the way of that giant Nevron greatly messed up. And what was not my surprise when I found your sword on the grown and you were nowhere. When I had found you, you were breathing so fraily that I believed you were dead. That's how I found you."

You were thinking he was mad at first, but the light had reflected a tear running down his cheek. He seemed in fact, more hopeless than angry.

"I'm sorry." Was the only good thing you found to say. You move your hand on his, making him feel you were alive.

"Be more careful the next time. You need to rest now."

After this event, you became closer to Verso than never before. None of you ever said to the other that you were loving him, or at least liking his company. You had shared particular alchemy which needed no words to exist.

It was just living through your actions. Verso had taken the habit to check on you discreetly after each fight and reciprocally you did the same. But there are a lot of other things.

Like how you had learned to appreciated Verso's fighting obsession and you were always supporting him when he was fighting against the Gestrals or Monoco. You were so supportive that one day you had strated a street fight to "defend his honour" as you said. Reciprocally Verso learned to love your dancing obsession by watching you dance until late in the evening during quiet day.

Or how Verso was so surprise to learn that you were a dancer before the fracture as you were surprised to discover his love for write poems. One night he was observing you dancing. He approched you discreetly as possible. You did seen him only during a pirouette that make you end at two step of him. "You are magnificent" he whsipered so low that you had thinked to dream at first. You smiled adn thanked him. Later, when you gone to sleep, he had confided to you that he will love to see you dance while he was playing piano.

And even some days, when the weather was not pleasant, you were sleeping together because it will be unnecessary to get sick by catching cold.

Now, Verso was not going anywhere without you and you were more comfortable with his company than never before.

During three decades you lived pacified of your remorse, sharing them with each other the days when they come to haunt you. Three decades during which you had learned to love each other without having the need to tell it a single time. It was just in the exchanged look, in the air between you and your way to communicate.

When you were going out, Esquie was the first to tease Verso about why he does not proposed you. After all you were living together since so long and your mutual affection was clear. Worst, you were even not a couple because someone was too scared about his father to live each moment to the full. to Verso was always having the same answer : he was not loving you like a husband can love his wife or like a boyfriend is supposed to love his girlfriend. Esquie was always laughing at him, saying he was too hung-up and that on day it will be to late to make a move.

Sometimes Verso was surprising himself to wish he had listened to Esquie teasing more carefully.

Everything seemed to be fine while you were eating with Verso and Monoco at the top of a mountain after having defeated a lot of Stalacs and others Nevrons of all kinds. Monoco and Verso were, like they used to, argued about which one had killed the most of Nevrons. Of course, they were disapproved mutually the numbers they proposed to each other. You would been laughing with them if you did not felt sick. Since you woke up this morning you were feeling sick but a sickness really weird. You said nothing to your friends because you know they would haved postpone this trip. And despite your state, you were awared of the important for Monoco and Verso to pass time together and Verso would haved never leave you alone if you had been honest.

Now, sitting with them at the end of the day you were feeling the insistent gaze of Verso on you. He was clearly suspecting something. Speaking of the devil, Verso sat down by your side and taken a deep breathe before talking.

"What is happening with you ?" He asked gently.

"I do not know... I'm not feeling well. I probably need to sleep, it will go better later."

"You are sure ? Because, I did not want to be the overprotective guy of the team, more the time pass more pale you seem."

"I'm going to be ok, no reasons to worry I swear." I said during I stand up to take some deep breathe.

You were going in circles around the campfire, trying to escape to the pain, when suddenly a completely unexpected terror capture your body. Your body was paralysed, you were suddenly freezing. As you gaze met Verso you only saw the same terror than yours tormenting him. As he ran toward you, you had lowered your head looking to your body. The petals around it were gorgeous. Verso was calling you, terrified. Looking at him, you understood immediately that do not looked too good. Scared, you tried to hug him. You were not understanding what was happening but you did not had wanting to die.

Everything happened so fast, you had desperately screamed Verso name as you were walking toward him but before you even had a chance to reach him, you disappear. Literally. Of you, they were only lasting petals which were flying in the cold breeze.

And easily as it seemed to be, Verso and Monoco were now only two on the top of this moutain. The only proof of your existence was a bracelet in snow right where you just had disapeared. The one you made at the same time you made one to offer to Verso with complementary colours. Verso had never felt so distraught and useless than this day.

You were so naive to believe that after having found Gustave, Lune, Maelle and Sciel you will been capable of anything. Because the true was standing in front of you, awful and painful as always. An old man was killing Gustave in front of you and you can not done nothing to prevent this. You were hating to feel so useless, if you did not found a way to move quickly Maelle was going to die to.

You tried to save time by distracting the old man. You screamed, cried, insulted him, you had done everything you could without moving your body. The old man seemed to lost his patience enough to approach you. You continued to insult him and to demonstrate the hate you had for him. If you had to die, you had to make it something.

As the old man raised his cane to hit your face, you had closed your eyes. But the punch never came. When you opened your eyes the first think you saw was an expedition uniform. Nut it was really damaged and old. An unknow man saved your life.

Unknow did not felt to be the rightword to describe him, but you clearly can not had known this man in Lumiers because he was giving something you would never had forget if you had ever passed by him, if you had ever met him.

Even his voice when he talked to the old man seemed familiar to you.

As the old man disapear, you finally recovered your hability to move. You stood immediately and started to walk to the unknow man who disapear too before you can said anything. You did not even saw his face.

Later when you had set up a new camp in a deafening silence you finally had the chance to see the face Mister Mysterious. Maybe if you were not unsettled and tired as you were, you would asked important questions like "How do you find us ?" or "How can we be sure of your honesty ?" but the only thing question that escaped from your lips was "How did I know you ?".

Your gaze was meeting Verso gaze, you were sure this man was not as unknown for you as he was for the girls. By the way, the same girls were watching your awkward interaction with attention.

"I'm not really sure... For being honest you are looking exactly like a friend I had three decades ago. She was the victim of the gommage."

You prudently came closer to Verso.

"Since I am little, I make dreams about things I feel like I had already lived. When I wake up, I never remember exactly the people or the subject of the dream but I always feel a hole in my heart. Here, I had wrote all the things I was remembered after I wake up in this notebook since the last ten years." You said as you were holding out in the notebook.

Verso taken the notebook. When your fingers had brused Verso's fingers you felt a strange blush going to your head. You were waiting for him to say something, looking at your hands anxiously, thinking you were maybe crazy. After some time to brows your notebook Verso laughed.

"I can not understand half of this because of the lack of information, but according to what I had can gotten your dreams seems to be moments of your past life for sure. For exemple, I will never forget the day we met Esquie and François and you seem to do not having forget it too. "The strange man fell in the water and got hurt" the true would be more something like "Esquie defied him to dive in the cold water, he missed and a rock injuried his head." He said giggling a little bite.

Verso continued to explain you what he was understanding in your notebook while you were sitting around the camp fire. It was strange to listening to someone you never saw in your life but at the same with who you feel seen and safe for the first time since you "restart ?" it in Lumieres three decades ago.

All your life you were feeling like Lumieres was not the place where you were supposed to be. During thrity years you were feeling incomplete and as you were strating to understand why, you were also realizing that you were remembering some specific fact about Verso.

"Your favorite colour is purple." You said suddenly.

Verso looked at you surprised before nodding his head as approval.

"I can't remeber a lot of things, but I remember things like you were liking to write poems and playing piano. Oh, and we were sharing a best-friend.. Nomoco ? Comono ?... MONOCO right ?!"

"Yes it is. He will be happy to see you."

"I know I'm not supposed to ask this so you do not have to answer to this question if you do not want to. What are we ? I feel like I have a lot of feeling for you and all of them bring me comfort that I never experience before.."

"Well… We were something like close friends. If you ask to Esquie, he will say that we were a couple. But none of us ever said "I love you" because what we were sharing was just the way it was and I suppose that we never feel the need to explain it. On one hand, I am not really sure about my feeling. It's easy to say you love someone when she is the only company you have which is like you, which is understanding your pain as no one ever did. On the other hand, I am mourning you since three decades. At first I was thinking that the pain will go away with the time but it was never. When I saw you earlier, looking for trouble with Renoir I had almost lost my mind. You were here, in front of me and you were already putting yourself in trouble… And I was scared"

Verso taken a deep breath before putting his hands on yours. When he looked at you with his sweet gray eyes you had felt a familiar warmth going all over your body.

"I do not know about what the futur is made, but if you authorise me, I will appreciate to show you all the love I never show you before. I am not affraid anymore, I do not know why I am having a second chance but this time I want to make the thing great. Let me tell you about your past life. Let me tell you how much you were making me go crazy when you were laughing, how good you were at fighting and at dance. And let me show you this."

He held two bracelets out to you. He did not needed to explain because you were remembering making a dream about those bracelets. You were trading with Gestrals for some precious stones. You were wanting to make something special for celebrate your twenty years of friendship with someone. Now you were discovering who was this someone.

"This one is yours". He said, taking gently your wrist to put the bracelet on it.

You had taken time to look at it. You immediately saw the way that the pearls on your bracelet were matching Verso colour eyes and the way that his bracelet was matching pearls with your eyes colour.

"I feel complete with you. And in peace like I never feel before." You confess.

Verso came closer to you. He put his hand on your cheek and suddently hugged you tightly.

"I had wish I can hug you like this again since so long that it is feeling like an eternity. I will never let you go away from me again, never, I promise."

@eddiemunson-86-baby I hope you will enjoy it and I hope it is not a disaster. After 4 days on it I am going crazy, i can't even see the spelling mistake TvT

[altacctforastarion]

Really basic request but can I ask for reader comforting Astarion after he has a really bad nightmare? Sfw is fine! No worries if you can’t get to it <3 thank you!

Hey anon! Thank you for requesting, fuckin love this trope!

Warnings: Astarion’s trauma, PTSD, he dreams you die and wakes up thinking you’re dead, he cries, hurt/comfort. I set this after Cazador’s death.

“He can’t touch me. I’m safe. They’re safe. It’s- It’s over. He’s dead and I’m safe.”

You wake up to Astarion whispering behind you, and you roll over to see him, sitting up quickly at the sight. He’s curled into a ball, sitting in a corner of the tent, his head against his knees and his arms holding his legs so tight they shake. You see his shoulders shaking, and your heart breaks for him.

“Astarion? Love?” Your voice is quiet, afraid to startle him, and you stay where you are in case he needs space even though you long to hold him close.

His head snaps up, and you see trails of tears on his cheeks, and wild, pained eyes stare at you as if you’d just threatened him, before they lose their edge, still wild, still terrified, but recognizing you after a delay. “I- I’m sorry I woke you.” His voice is tense, and he watches you, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, looking at your neck, watching your heartbeat.

“No, no don’t be, it’s ok, I’m not upset with you, love. Would you like to talk?” You slowly move your body so you can face him, sitting cross-legged, keeping your hands visible as much as possible, and your eyes stay on him. “Or do you want some space?”

“No!” His voice comes out loud, and he seems to startle himself, “Please don’t leave.”

“Alright, love. I’m here, I won’t go anywhere. It was just an option. Can I help you in anyway?”

He hesitates, looking at you and then away, “I- I had a nightmare. Could I feel your heartbeat? I know you’re alive, I just need to feel it, please?” He sounds so painfully small, so afraid, and you watch him wipe his cheeks quickly, as if you’ll mock him for his question, for his sadness.

“Of course love, where do you want to feel it, should I come to you or would you like to come here?” You ask, giving him every available option, letting him as much control as possible.

“Will you come here?” The fear in his voice crushes you, you’re so used to him moving you, or asking you to come to him with confidence, knowing you always will. It hurts to see him so small, and you curse the dead monster that made him feel this way.

“Of course, Astarion.” You move slow, crawling over to him and he reaches for you, pulling you in until you’re sitting with your back to the tent as well, one arm around him and head on his shoulder, his hands find your throat and the wrist that’s not around his body, bringing to to his lap as he’s feeling your pulse, and you watch him take some breaths, his eyes closing for just a second as he exhales before opening and fixating on the tent entrance, and you realize he hasn’t blinked once since you’d been awake.

“Thank you.” He says simply, eyes fixated on the tent opening, as if he thinks his former master will come into your camp, into his tent at any moment.

“He’s dead, love. We killed him. You’re free and he can’t hurt you. You’re safe.” You speak low, repeating the mantra he’d been saying when you woke up, hoping that hearing someone else say it will help get through to him.

“He killed you, in my dream. We were at the Black Mass, I was a part of the ritual and he killed you in front of me, then he drank from your corpse. You’d screamed my name and I couldn’t help you, I could only watch. I woke up, and checked your pulse and watched you listened to your blood coursing through your veins, but the second I moved away I was sure you were dead. And then you woke up.” He starts to cry as he speaks, tears falling from his eyes and only then does he blink, still staring at the tent opening, and his fingers still on your pulse points.

You listen to him, unsure if you should respond, or how to respond if you did, before deciding to be bold, moving the hand he’s holding to his face and slowly turning him to look at you, his eyes snapping to you, looking vaguely threatened at first as your thumb wipes away his tears, “He’s dead and we killed him. I’m alive, he won’t taste blood ever again, but certainly not mine. You are safe. I’m sorry that you’re haunted, and I promise I understand why and but please try to remember that we are safe and he is dead.”

“We’re safe and he’s dead.” He seems to contemplate the words, like it’s a sudden realization instead of a factual statement based on your lived experiences. “We’re safe. And he’s dead. I killed him. And you took me to a river and helped me get the blood off of my skin. I cried again then, and you pretended not to notice. I heard your breathing change, and then you started talking about how much you miss bathtubs, you’re not very good at pretending. Then I thanked you for stopping me from completing the ritual, and I took you to my grave.”

He states everything like he’s remembering it as he speaks, and not wanting to lose any progress, you fill in some blanks. “Yes, I used the soap you like, the ones you found in the brothel. And you took me to your grave, and you carved into your tombstone. I put a flower on your grave and you said it was cute.”

“I pushed you down and we had sex there. Then we came back here and slept in my tent, and you said we should see how expensive the rooms are in the tavern, because your back hurts when you wake up. Does your back hurt now?” His eyes roam around the room as he thinks, taking his time piecing together that night.

“I forgot about that, with everything we had to do that morning. We should really do that tomorrow, maybe we can talk the prices down. My back does hurt, yes.” As you speak, his eyes gain a bit more life, and feel relief, happy that he’s coming back to himself.

“Lay down. Let me help.” He demands suddenly, removing your hands from his body, pushing at your waist.

“What? It’s ok, you really don’t need to-“

He cuts you off, “Please, just lay down. Let me help and you can keep being all… you, but if you’re going to insist on being so nice I need to be nice back.”

“You don’t need to do anything, Astarion. I’m not talking to you so that you’ll do something-“

He cuts you off again, a loud, impatient sigh leaving his lips, “Yes, yes, you’re wonderful and kind and you give me so many choices and so much patience. Great. Now lay down, and let me massage your back, darling, or I will lay you down.” He smiles kindly, but there are far too many teeth, and you know he’s not bluffing, so you obey, laying down on your shared bedroll, crossing your arms in front of you and putting your forehead against them.

You don’t hear him move, but you feel when his weight settles on your thighs, and his hands touch your shoulders. He feels around until he finds tenseness or hears you hiss in pain, then he focuses on that spot until the muscle relaxes.

“Thank you.” He murmurs eventually, as he’s working on a particularly tense spot at the base of your neck, “I’m sorry I woke you up, I just…wasn’t well at the time. I wasn’t myself.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Astarion. Please wake me up, I don’t mind. I want to be here for you, if you want me to be.”

You feel his hands stop on your back for just a second, before continuing to work at the knot. “I want that. I suppose if you stuck around for this long, through everything, I can’t cast you aside now.” He leans down and kisses the spot he’d been working at, and then continues to work in silence until he can find no more tenseness. He gets off of your thighs, and lays down beside you, pulling you to him and kissing you gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Star. Would you like to go back to sleep?” You yawn as you speak.

“I’d like to stay awake awhile, but you should rest. Sleep well, my love.”

[darcellexxx]

Better boyfriend than him.

Summary: Coming late to the common room was a mistake, keeping secrets even worse. Telling the marauders that you were dating someone was bad enough itself, but saying that he was a Slytherin made it even harder. Sirius, the charming guy, can’t just accept the truth and needs to go and deal with it himself, whether it be physical or not.

Pairing: Regulus Black x fem!gryffindor!reader (Sirius Black x fem!gryffindor!reader)

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings/Tags: Possessive!Regulus; Possessive!Sirius; The Black brothers competing against each other; PHYSICAL FIGHTING; BLOOD; slight angst (but it’s good)

A/N: WHEEW 😍 BLACK BROTHERS SAVE ME! It was so fun to write this, really. Hate the ending tbh but I think it’ll be fine. PLEASE DO LISTEN TO THE SONG, IT’LL MAKE IT SO MUCH BETTER PLS!!!

Being friends with the marauders meant being involved in all of their shenanigans and pranks, meaning it was a ride-or-die friendship. Being one of the marauders also meant hating all the Slytherin, except you didn’t.

You were actively seeing one.

Walking back to the Gryffindor tower after being down in the dungeons was a whole Quidditch workout itself, but you couldn’t just blatantly admit where you were when you had to be with your friends fifteen minutes ago.

Running up the stairs and hissing out the password breathlessly, you climbed into the common room.

The guys were already sitting there, Remus with a book sprawled on the couch and James sitting next to the fire while Sirius was pacing around the room.

“Sorry guys, McGonnagall stopped me-“ You started before you were met with prying eyes that were fixated on your shirt. Not really yours anyway..

You then realised what the problem was. While you were down in the castle, you grew cold, and you decided to take Regulus’ shirt.

With quick movements you zipped your Gryffindor jacket up, hiding the green fabric before dusting yourself off.

“Where were you?” Remus asked, putting his book aside.

“Stop beating around the bush, why were you in the Slytherin common room?!” Sirius demanded dramatically, looking at you with a small pout.

“What? I wasn’t-.. How do you know where I was?!” You scoffed, blushing at the question and at the way they found out about your secret. Walking over to the couch, you sat down next to Remus, hugging your knees as you watched Sirius who was staring at you.

“Stop lying, we saw you on the map.. What’s going on?” Remus being Remus, asked softly as he watched your chin rest on your kneecap.

With a sigh, you whined softly and hid your face.

“I can’t just tell you, you’ll kill him first and then me..” You reasoned carefully, watching James sit up subtly.

“He? Who is he??!” Sirius squealed, his pout growing deeper.

“Padfoot- just relax and let her speak.” James sighed and rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Sirius sat down and crossed his arms, flipping his hair back like a fancy shampoo advertisement.

“Well? Who were you with?” The guy asked, and at that moment he looked more like McGonnagall than the rebel he was.

“Listen- I was with a..” You hesitated, thinking of a plausible explanation.

“A partner for a project..” You responded slowly, not exactly lying but not saying the truth either.

“A partner for a project?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow, and you knew that you didn’t even fool him.

“Yes, no, yes. Kinda.”

“Kinda?” James asked, an incredulous expression on his face.

“I was with a guy- alright?”

“A guy?!” Sirius exclaimed, and this time James had to hold his arm in order for him to stay in his place.

“A Slytherin? A slimy git?” He continued, feeling agitated.

“Yes. But he’s not a slimy git! He’s actually super nice..” You responded, feeling giggly and slightly giddily about your boyfriend.

“A Slytherin? Nice?!!”

“Sirius, just shut up!” James scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Why would you be with a guy in the common room?” Sirius asked, trying to push James away.

“Sirius, why do you think I would be with a guy?!” You scoffed, now sprawling yourself out on the couch.

“I- I don’t know..” Sirius mumbled, seeming uncharacteristically upset.

“Who were you with..? Not Snivellus, right..?” James asked in a careful voice, now caressing Sirius’ shoulder gently.

“No! No way.. but- it’s- not better either..” You mumbled, biting your lips in an anxious manner.

“If you don’t tell us-“ Sirius started, now looking like he’s ready to jump on you.

“Moony..!” You chuckled nervously, looking at the guy who now jumped at the sudden attention towards him.

“How about I tell you first and then you somehow, magically, without my presence tell it to the others?” You asked, even though it seemed like it was more like a demand than anything.

“Uhh-“ Remus started, glancing to you and then back at the guys.

“Lovely! Scoot over,” You exclaimed, gripping his shoulders.

When you quietly whispered Regulus’ name into his ear, you saw how Sirius was silently fuming and James was trying to soothe the guy.

The life drained out of Remus’ face, his eyes widening.

“Is it bad..?” You asked carefully, hoping to find sympathy in your friend’s expression.

“Bloody hell..” He whispered, looking at you as if you just told him you were pregnant. “Sirius will kill you..”

“WHAT??! Who is it, Lupin?!” Sirius exclaimed, and when the attention was now off you, you quickly darted up to the dormitories.

The only people in the common room were the marauders, and Sirius was now laying on the carpet, feeling numb and drained.

“My brother.. My death-eater, dirty, filthy, little Reggie..” Sirius murmured, staring at the ceiling.

“How did that even happen?! How-?” He scoffed, rolling over on his stomach.

“What do you mean? She’s the beauty of Hogwarts, it was weird enough that she didn’t get a boyfriend before him.” Remus spoke, trying to read his book but it was visible that he was deep in his thoughts.

“Yeah but- Him? That’s insane..” Sirius spoke, running a hand through his hair.

“Padfoot, if you want to discuss it, talk to her. I’m not gonna talk for her.” The guy sighed, slinging his feet off the couch.

“I’m going to bed, it’s a lot to take right now. Try not to kill your brother, mate.” He patted Sirius on the shoulder, walking to the stairs where the dormitories are.

“You’ll just leave me behind?” Sirius whined,

“Sorry mate, if you want to, we can talk tomorrow.”

-

A week passed and the guys were trying their best to keep the information hidden, but it was hard when all Peter wanted was to talk to you about it and Sirius who was trying not to strangle his brother in front of the whole school.

And yet in the whole week, Sirius was avoiding you like the plague, and you decided to put an end to it.

While Sirius was glaring at his parchment paper, you walked over to his table and dropped the heavy books across from him.

“What is going on? Why are you ignoring me?” You demanded, slamming your hands on the table.

“What’s going on? You’re literally dating my brother! My baby Reggie!”

You scoffed, feeling angry at the guy in front of you.

“Does it really bother you that much that I’m dating him? Because now it seems like you don’t want him to date me! Like I’m some bad influence or something!” You exclaimed, and you felt the ghost of the librarian moving behind you. Warning you to keep yourself quiet.

“I am mad at you because he is a Black! He is going to mess with you! He is not who you think he is!” Sirius hissed, his warm eyes suddenly cold. Like a storm.

“Why can’t you just accept this? You know, right now you seem just like your family whom you despise! Cold, heartless and selfish! Regulus was with me when no one was, while you were planning pranks, he was there and listened to me whine and even took me out to the black lake!” You spat, standing up and abandoning your books you initially brought.

“What?! I could’ve done the same! Even better!” He exclaimed, and now stood up as well.

“But you didn’t!”

“And what do you mean I’m like my family? Don’t you dare compare me to the disgusting blood supremacists!” His hand shot up to yours before you could walk out.

“Then maybe stop acting like one, Black.” You couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth, and now you regretted all of your life choices all at once, but you couldn’t do anything but to go and leave him.

Sirius now stood there alone, the cold shiver of realisation creeping up his back. He wasn’t like his family.. He couldn’t be..

His choices were now to find you again or to find his brother, and after the disappointing conversation with you, he decided to find his brother.

Every step was like torture, and he felt like he was just floating between the crowds.

Then he finally found the boy he was looking for, short hair, cold presence. A Black, not him. He’s not a Black..

Sirius grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled into an empty classroom, slamming him against the wall, some pictures and things falling down from the impact.

Regulus hissed in pain, but before he could react, Sirius grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him closer.

“What are you doing with her?!” The older guy barked, tightening his grip around the crisp fabric.

“Who?” Regulus feigned nonchalance, gripping Sirius’ wrist in response tightly.

“Her. I know that you’re just using her. It’s in your blood.” Sirius fumed, clenching his teeth.

“Your blood as well, remember? Could’ve gotten the inheritance, but no.. You think you're better, huh? That you’re too good for it?” Regulus sneered mockingly, shaking his head lightly.

“I’m not a pure blood like you. I’m a person who has a heart, not like you. Heartless, cold. I’m a warm Gryffindor, you’re a greasy snake.” Sirius growled, his face now up to the other ones.

“Yeah? Good, warm heart? Where was your warm heart when she needed help? When she cried, oh so sweetly on my shoulder..?” Regulus cooed, pouting softly before breaking into a smirk.

“You get off of her.. you enjoy seeing her cry, don’t you..?” Sirius asked quietly, anger burning quietly.

“Oh no, not that.. I would turn the world around for her, buy her the things she couldn’t even imagine existed.. Get rid of the people that have yet done bad to her.. I just get off of the thought that she went to me, not you.” He whispered into his ear carefully, the words soft and warm, almost taunting.

Sirius didn’t like the sound of his explanation and he quickly pushed his brother to the ground, his back hitting against the desks and chairs that fell over. Regulus, one not to get messed with, dragged his brother down with him, throwing a punch in the air.

Blood staining the shirts were now all over the alabaster skins of the guys. Knuckles absolutely broken, bloody lips and groans as one and the other tried to get the upper hand.

Sirius was now straddling Regulus, an iron grip on the dirty and crumpled shirt.

“She should be with me.. she should be mine.” He whispered to the guy who was now lying on the wooden floor.

“Yeah? I won’t let her go so easily, I want her. And I always get what I want..” Regulus now grinned, showing his bloodied teeth.

Both of them looked horrible, almost impossible to tell who was winning or losing. Sirius looked like a wild animal, hair unruly and tangled, while Regulus looked like he got run over by a truck. And yet they looked both so hot, enough to make it on the covers for a magazine.

Sirius was about to say something, but he felt a hand on his shoulder that pushed him off his brother’s body, leaving him fall on his butt.

“Love..!” Sirius gasped, seeing you stand with a shocked and angry expression.

“Sirius! Are you out of your mind?” You yelled, crouching down over Regulus, taking his face in your hands.

“You don’t understand..! I-“ Sirius started, getting on his fours, feeling drowsy from the pain.

“You don’t understand! Look what you’ve done!” You cradled Regulus’ face, and while you glared at Sirius, you missed out on the smile on the guy’s face. One that said ‘You are priceless, love’.

“Love.. I’ll be fine, he didn’t even do anything..” Regulus spoke softly, trying to brush the fight off. Like he didn’t get any impact or injuries from the fight.

“No! You look horrible..” You spoke, breaking your gaze from the silent Gryffindor guy.

“Horribly sexy..” You didn’t know whether to scoff or to blush at his teasing. Damaged and pliant Regulus was probably your most precious Regulus.

“Let’s go, you’re acting weird and affectionate..” You murmured and tried to get the guy up.

“It’s just I’m drunk on your love..” He whispered and kissed your knuckles, and you didn’t know if it was because Sirius was watching you or because he really meant it. Nethertheless, you grabbed his arm and threw it over your shoulders, holding his weight, even if it was just a bit, Regulus couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. Maybe he didn’t win the fight, but he won the war.

“You’re too good to me..” Regulus kissed the top of your head, a possessive gesture that showed who was the one who had you.

Sirius glared at both of you, now getting to his feet again.

“I could be better than him,” He said bluntly, clenching his fists. You looked at him over your shoulder, and watched his bad state.

Maybe you would have wanted to help him as well. Patch him up and take care of him.. But you had another one whom you needed to help, and you couldn’t have them both now, could you..?

“I don’t doubt it..” You whispered and were about to open the door when Regulus got ahead of you.

“Ladies first, I insist..” He whispered, showing his boyish smirk, and when you walked out he looked at his brother again who was fuming.

The war wasn’t over, it was just the start of the largest competition. Competition over a heart that wasn’t yet fully occupied.

Sure it was taken by a Black, but which one..?

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[phoenixblaze1412]

Maybe dadtorre with a teen!reader who is like Castorice from hsr, maybe he finds reader surrounded by a pile of bodies, reader doesn't really care and has gotten used it, idrk

Ur work is amazing btw.

Another village.

Another body.

You sit in the middle of it all—legs folded, back straight—surrounded by a pile of corpses that never even had time to scream. All they did was reach out. Try to help. Or hurt. Or simply didn’t believe the rumors until their hearts gave out in your presence.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

You warned them.

Now you just wait for him.

The air parts behind you with the telltale hum of a group approaching, crackling with controlled chaos and antiseptic cold.

Boots crunch over glass and blood-soaked gravel.

“You’re not even trying to avoid them anymore,” his voice cuts in—silken, analytical, eerily calm.

“Didn’t need to,” you reply.

You don’t look up. You know that voice too well.

Dottore.

Your father.

You hear the small movement of his mask adjusting, the shifting of layered coats as he surveys the carnage.

“You told them not to touch you?”

You nod.

He sighs, unhurried. Unbothered.

“It’s getting worse,” he murmurs. “The radius of fatal contact. It’s expanding. Your aura alone reached someone before they were within arm’s length.”

You pick at the hem of your sleeve. “They were all going to die anyway. Just not as fast.”

“…Cold.” There’s no judgment in his tone—just clinical observation. “But accurate.”

A soft shuffle breaks the moment.

From the trees, several figures emerge. Four of them. Eyes glinting in the snowlight, all sharing Dottore’s sharp features—but younger, different.

The segments.

They’re the only ones allowed to come close. And they do—without fear, without hesitation.

Theta drops a thick jacket on the ground before you. “You’re freezing.”

You pull it over yourself, not thanking him but not refusing either. He knows the routine. You all do.

Beta wordlessly sets a container of warm food down beside you.

Omega crouches near your side, inspecting a smear of dried blood on your cheek. “Yours?”

“No.”

He hums. “Still. You should let us clean you.”

Only when Sigma silently offers his gloved hand do you finally stand. You take it.

Because you can.

Because they’re the only ones you can touch.

You don’t look at your father.

But you feel his eyes on you. Distant. Measuring. Protective in a way that’s more machinery than emotion. You used to think it was cruel. Now, you understand—it’s the only way he can be a parent to something that kills on contact.

“Are you going to test me again today?” you ask quietly.

“Not here.” His voice crackles with restrained interest. “Too many variables. We’ll return to the northern lab. You’re destabilizing. I need to recalibrate your restraints.”

“I don’t need restraints.”

Dottore doesn’t answer immediately.

Then he says, “The dead around you would disagree.”

You pause. Then nod. Fair.

----------

You later sit in the observation room of the lab, isolated behind a layer of high-density glass.

Dottore speaks through the speaker system. “Your pulse remained stable during the incident. No emotional spike.”

“They don’t scare me.”

“They should.”

You look up at him on the other side—his mask removed, eyes sharp with something you can’t name.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” you say.

“I know.” He taps something into a control pad. “But you will. Regardless of intent.”

“Why did you make me like this?” you ask.

Silence.

The question hangs there.

Then he answers softly. “Because I wanted something that would never be touched by the world.”

You stare at him.

The segments behind you shift uncomfortably. Theta looks away. Beta’s jaw clenches.

He didn’t say “loved.”

He said “untouched.”

“Are you proud of me?” you ask, not sure why.

Dottore doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t hesitate.

“I am fascinated by you.”

Which is not the same thing.

----------

That night, you sleep curled between Beta and Sigma—your “brothers,” your guardians. Omega sits at your feet with a book across his lap. Theta drapes a blanket over all of you and tucks it in with teasing affection.

They are not quite family. But they’re yours.

You’ve never known a hug from a human. Never held a hand without watching it go still.

But you know the cool, unflinching touch of the ones born of science and blood and brilliance—your father’s monsters.

You think maybe you’re one of them, too.

And in your sleep, you murmur something no one hears:

“Thank you for not dying.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

My dumbest TWST headcanons

Yuu: everyone has forgotten their name and preferred pronouns. No one is willing to ask after so long, hence everyone calling them 'prefect' all the time

Grim: he is the reason why no dorm has tried to get Yuu to transfer in. They simply do not want him and unfortunately they are a package deal

Riddle: cannot handle spice. He ate a bell pepper once and started sobbing incoherently. Bell peppers are notoriously non-spicy

Trey: has mom hands in that he can handle hot plates without even flinching because he has permanently ruined the nerve endings in his hands from all of the times he's handled hot baking trays without mitts

Cater: has only like 7 Magicam followers because, as fun as his tags are, they aren't great for the algorithm

Deuce: has been told "that's unfortunate" multiple times after introducing himself. Does not understand why. No one tell him.

Ace: the type to never wait for his food to finish cooling. He burns his tongue at least once a day. He will never learn. Nor will he ever actually taste anything he puts in his mouth. Uses this for bets ("bet you that I can eat *insert the most disgusting concoction ever*" "don't...")

Leona: the entire school has a group chat devoted to the most insane places they've found Leona sleeping. Nothing has managed to top the time someone spotted him curled up in a cauldron that the first years were about to use for Alchemy. (Ruggie has tried to bribe his way into this group chat multiple times but everyone is too scared of Leona to give it to him)

Ruggie: the type to dump trauma on you without realizing it's messed up. Jack asked him once "Where'd you get that" and pointed to a scar and Ruggie was like "oh yeah that's from the time a guy stabbed me" and Jack has never asked him anything since

Jack: complains constantly about how big his tail is because it keeps wagging and giving away his tsundere-ness. Wants a little tail he can stuff into his pant legs to hide it

Azul: his glasses are fake. He thinks they make him look intimidating

Jade: will make fun of people for yawning in front of him. ("Scandalous" "????") He refuses to explain

Floyd: bites people he likes. Moray eel bites can cause paralysis and even beyond that his teeth are wicked sharp. This has caused several misunderstandings in his life

Kalim: everyone know's he's coming because all of his jewelry clink against each other. Like a cat with a bell on its collar. There is a betting ring about whether Jamil planned for this or if it's just how Kalim is that has spread schoolwide

Jamil: has absolutely responded to Kalim saying "Treat spiders the way you want to be treated" with "Killed without hesitation". Unironically

Vil: has accidentally cursed his own food several times. Never anything serious, but you would think it was with the expression of utter horror on his face every time

Rook: is the one in class to deal with bugs. He will pull a hairband out of his pocket (saved for this very occasion, or in the horrible case that Vil's hair tie might snap) and snipe the bug out of midair

Epel: constantly tries to get away with breaking rules right under Vil's nose. Out of spite. He has yet to succeed, but insists he WILL. One day. He will not

Idia: has lamented sending his tablet to class several times because he can't play some of his favorite games when it's away. Does not seem to realize that he would not be able to play those games while in class anyways

Ortho: has programmed idle animations

Malleus: his horns constantly hit the top of doorways. The entire room will go very quiet when this happens because they're scared if they breathe they will laugh and they Can Not Laugh At Malleus Draconia

Lilia: upon finding out his true age, the first question he is always asked is how his cooking is seriously "like that"

Silver: will wake up, find a miscellaneous animal sleeping on him, and go back to sleep because he would rather die than wake up the poor thing

Sebek: banned from the school library. There is no librarian so it literally doesn't change anything there's no one to enforce it but he still won't go in on principle

Crowley: has submitted a tax form with simply the word "No" on it. Is not sure why it didn't work

Crewel: messed up a potion once in front of a class. Swore everyone to secrecy about it. It is the only secret that has not spread through the school

Trein: has been called by his cat's name more than once

Vargas: students are often late to things because "Coach Vargas is hunting students for sport again :( ughhhh"

Sam: will trip students he doesn't like over 'loose floorboards'