#apologies this is what happens when something snaps

[chiasaaa]

— the night is yours

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: your niece from belgium visits you in madrid to interview your boyfriend for her academic paper.

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when you told sae to vacate his saturday for you, he expected something planned for both of you is up in play. true enough, there is a plan. it’s just far from what he expected it to be.

he sits on the single recliner in your shared living room, distant eyes staring right through the soul of your poor cowering niece. sae always despised interviews—always viewed it as people trying to dissect the information they want to manipulate for themselves right out of his system. it’s uncanny.

sae already bears with the fame by giving short single responses whenever a match ends and he’s declared the most valuable player of his time (which happens all the time), and he absolutely despises every second of it. it’s every second wasted when he could be celebrating his win with you instead. he had no idea how you managed to convince him to participate in your niece’s little project, yet there he was.

maybe the tea you coaxed him with proved effective, after all. that, and a little something you promised him for when the interview’s finished and you have your home alone for yourselves.

he must love you very much, is what goes on in his mind as he watched your niece scramble through the sheets of paper she had prepared for this day.

“hey,” he called out to her softly, causing her to pause from her anxious squirming. “it’s alright. take your time.”

though it was nothing special, he saw how his assurance helped her relax. she nods by a tad bit, then stacked her papers together neatly. unbeknownst to the two, you’ve been watching through the corner of your eyes as you face them sideways on the counter stool, pretending to work on the designs your team had previously come up with for approval.

your niece isn’t that far from your age, currently 15 years old. a gap of three years has always been quite weird as it stands between ‘we’re old enough to view life differently’ and ‘but we’re young enough to get along well’. for someone like sae, however, it’s a completely different story. he’s like an old man stuck in a young player’s body. people normally find it hard to get along with him. and you know that he gives zero fucks about anyone.

however, one thing you love about him is that he tries. he will always try if it means being closer to your family. quite the awkward fellow he can be, but it becomes a part of his charm at some point. even your father, who had long been against you dating, grew fond of him. now that you see him trying his best to make your niece comfortable with him, you could only quietly fawn over the sight.

he always gives you reasons to fall in love everyday—not like he still has to.

you have already loved him for him.

you have never been so lucky.

“as an athlete, of course it’s important for us to maintain a healthy balanced diet because—“ you snapped out of your own world when sae’s voice penetrated through your ears in a gentle tone. your eyes glided back to his direction, finding him talking through a clipped mic on his shirt. they finally proceeded with the interview proper after fifteen minutes of preparing, and he’s as collected as ever.

though, this is the first time you’ve ever heard him respond to an interview so coherently. as if he made an effort to put his answers together well enough for your niece to extract useful information. and as he was going through with the interview, he caught a glance of you watching.

you smiled, so sweetly and gratefully that it had him pause for a moment as well. sae knew what you were telling him through your honey-dipped eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him, just as much as you didn’t need him to tell you when he sent the faintest smile back.

when the interview was over, you and sae walked your niece out the porch.

“thank you for today, auntie!” she hugged you tight, grateful for making the interview possible in the first place. she was only ever able to pursue the topic she wanted because of you connections, after all.

“no worries, hija. tell your mom to drop you off again same time tomorrow, yeah? sae and i plan to take you around the city before you fly back home.”

“really? thank you!” she then turns to sae. “thank you too, uncle sae! i’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

and so she runs off to the taxi cab where her mother waits, taking them home as soon as she enters. you and sae stay by the porch until they’re out of sight, with sae still stunned that your niece finally called him uncle for the first time in the three years you’ve acquainted them.

“looks like you’re promoted, uncle sae.” you tease, smirking as he closed the door after you entered. “does this call for a congratulations?”

he rolls his eyes. of course, the ever so teasing you will make a big deal out of it. though, he can’t blame you. he has to admit that it had him a little excited to feel part of your family.

“maybe it does,” he comes forward and gently tugged you close by the waist, “don’t act like i forgot about your promise to me, hermosa.”

chuckling, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and teased him with a peck on his lips. “oh, i didn’t.” you leaned closer until your lips hovered by his ear. “and you have permission to do what you want with me for the rest of the night, mi guapo.”

that was all he needed to hear, and you’re in for yet another sleepless night filled with blissful memories.

[lsunstreakerl]

definitely going to be posting more on this particular avenue because I think it's horrid and interesting, but until then- 1.5k words, max POV: discipline

HELLO still darkbull! mature themes and content and all that.

Max is fuming as he gets out of the car, fingers angrily yanking at the straps of his helmet. They keep skating over the latches, fucking missing, and Max is-

Max is so pissed off. He waves off GP, and he knows that it's rude, but he doesn't want to snap at him, doesn't want to take his anger out on the team again- even if they maybe deserve it.

He finally gets his helmet off, chucking it into the corner of his drivers room as he tugs at the strap of his racesuit across his neck.

Everything is hot and sticky, and the car won't fucking drive. Max feels like his entire body is slick with sweat as he peels his suit off, and he can't bring himself to feel bad yet, but he'd snapped over the radio earlier, pissy and annoyed.

It's his right, as a driver, but he hasn't been that bad for a few years. The team wasn't expecting it.

He wants to shower, and he wants the car to work, and he wants the team to listen when he tells them there's a fucking problem-

Two of those problems he can't solve. The first he can handle when they get back to the hotel, but he still has media and debriefs, and he'll probably fall asleep after the debrief and forget to shower, and then he'll feel worse when he wakes up.

There's no winning. Not in his choices, certainly not in this race, and probably not the fucking championship either. He's mathematically in it still, but-

It's not happening.

Max clenches his jaw so hard he hears something pop when his door slides open. He's still pissed off, standing in his drivers room, and he doesn't even have pants on yet, just his boxers and one sock, so if it's someone here to tell him to behave better he's going to lose it.

"What."

It comes out snappish, which is exactly how Max is feeling anyways. He drags a hand through his hair, bracelets clinking together on his wrist.

Christian steps in. He's holding Max's water bottle and a damp towel, and if it's a cold towel Max might actually start forgiving the team here and now.

"You left your water outside."

He passes the towel to Max, and it's ice cold- feels so good against his overheated skin that Max just holds it to his face for a moment.

He lets out a low groan, trying to get rid of the anger. It's still there, simmering in his gut, but already- he needs to apologize to the pit crew, probably. In a week or two.

Christian huffs a laugh, holding the water bottle towards Max.

"Thought you might like that. Jake put some electrolytes in your water since you didn't drink enough during the race, so make sure you finish it please. I took you off the presser."

Max lowers the towel finally, looking at Christian in surprise. He thought for sure he'd have to do the press conference.

He finally grabs the bottle, taking a few long sips as he starts running the towel across his arms, trying to get rid of the sweat.

Christian has a point that Max probably should have drank more in the race, but he just didn't think about it. At a circuit as hot as this one he should know better.

He feels marginally better once he's wiped down, or at least less like he's going to fly off the handle if someone breaths at him wrong.

The towel gets dropped onto the bench, and Christian passes him a bundle of clothes, not looking up from his phone.

Max eyes the clothes, a soft shirt, sweatpants, fresh socks, and boxers. It's not teamkit, which means he might not have to do the debrief either- might be able to go straight back to the hotel.

He still waits until he's dressed again to ask Christian about it, pulling his necklace out from under his shirt collar as he speaks.

"Are we debriefing?"

Christian finally looks up from his phone, eyes briefly skating down Max, cataloging that he's changed completely.

"No. Straight back to the hotel for you."

There's the tiniest bit of edge to his voice, and already Max is starting to feel bad, guilt creeping in on the edges of his emotions.

"Christian-"

Christian cuts him off with a sigh, tucking his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms.

"You can apologize to the team tomorrow, Max."

Max shifts on his feet.

"What about apologizing to you?"

Christian's shoulders slump slightly, and he uncrosses his arms, spreading them.

"Come on then."

Max takes a few steps forward and wraps Christian into a hug. He doesn't quite envelop Max anymore like he had when he was younger, but it's still one of the safest places Max can think of, tucked between Christian's arms.

"You were shitty to the team."

Max is well aware.

"I will apologize. I really am sorry."

Christian brings one hand up to spread across the back of Max's neck, palm pushing the chain of his necklace into his skin. His fingers curl around the side of his neck, the tips of them pressing slightly into the front of his throat.

Max breaths out a soft sigh as Christian squeezes lightly.

"For what?"

Max hates this game- the one where he fucks up and has to admit it more than once. It's for 'team cohesion' or something. He still thinks it's humiliating.

He lets the weight of Christians hand settle him, heavy where it's resting. It's grounding.

"For snapping over the radio."

Christian hums.

"And?"

Max's lips twist into a frown.

"Not talking to GP about it."

That's the crux of the issue here- when Max has a problem, he's supposed to go to Gianpiero about it. Preferably before it gets to the point where he's snapping down the radio, and he hadn't done that today- had tried to drive through it instead, letting the frustration build up.

To then go and brush GP off when he was getting out of the car- Max has fucked up here.

Christian squeezes his neck again before letting go, stepping away.

"That's right. Take some time at the hotel to cool down, and we're having a team dinner later. You can apologize to GP tonight, everyone else tomorrow."

Max nods, feeling chastised.

Christian sighs again before reaching forward, tugging lightly at Max's necklace so he looks up at him.

"It's okay, Max."

Max gives a thin smile and nods. He knows it will be okay, but he hates when the team is upset with him.

Max snags his water as Christian turns and leaves, and he falls into step behind him, taking a few more sips. It tastes a bit off, but Christian had mentioned Jake put electrolytes in it- it's probably that.

------

Johnathan is laughing about something with Daniel across the table from Max, but he can't quite follow the thread of the conversation. Hasn't really be able to follow it since they got to the private room at the restaurant, but especially not now.

Max looks back down at his plate. He's not sure how long he's been loosely holding a fork in his right hand, or even what he'd had- it looks like a half eaten portion of pasta, but he can't quite remember what kind.

He leans slightly to his right, shoulder lightly bumping GP's.

"GP? Do you know what I ordered?"

"Aw, Max."

GP half turns, resting his arm across Max's shoulders and tugging him close.

"Can't remember?"

Max frowns. He should be able to, he knows that, but-

He always gets so twisted in knots when he's upset the team, and it seeps into his brain, practically turns him into a different person. He hates when it happens. It makes him feel stupid.

"Don't tease, GP."

His voice comes out a bit whinier than he means for it to, and GP gives him a quick squeeze and a smile.

"Sorry Max. You know it's only out of fun."

Max feels a hand settle across the top of his left thigh, broad and hot, and he turns his head to meet Carlos's warm gaze.

"You got the salmon fettuccine."

Oh. That sounds right. Max leans slightly into Carlos's side, resting his head onto his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Carlos drops a kiss into Max's hair, dragging his hand up the inside of his thigh and brushing over his hip before it's gone, and Max can't help the soft noise he makes. He wants the feeling back.

Carlos is chuckling low at him, lips brushing against his hairline.

"We're still at the restaurant, remember?"

Max fights to wrestle back control of his thoughts, but it's hard- like trying to catch smoke in his hands.

Restaurant. Team dinner.

He looks down at his plate- he can't quite remember what he was eating.

Max turns to look at GP on his right. GP will know- GP always knows.

"GP? Do you know what I ordered?"

GP smiles fondly at him.

"Oh Max. Can't remember?"

[yesimwriting]

omg irl (personally) i would get so fed up with armand like... nothing's ever straightforward with you... there he goesss with his ulterior motives.

I love how you describe Louis' worry in the latest chapter, because as anon requested, it is the crashout of all crashouts BUT its so sublty written and kept between the lines (big kudos to you) because Louis is not burning and killing 20% of the vampiric population like he did in paris BUT there are hints/implication present that he absolutely would do something much worse to protect and/or avenge bestie reader.

And it really shows during the part after the phonecall when he's thinking to himself. Him repeating Josh's name like a mantra??? Girl his last victim was in the year 2000 but im sure he's willing make sure josh will never use both of his wrists to operate a car ever again lmao. Also, being an english speaking foreigner, i'm usually able to keep my accent at bay but i know damn well that Nola accent was HEARD through that damn phone. This reminds me of that older brother vibe ask of yours you wrote before. We all know he booked a flight arriving after sunset so he can personally drive and pick her up from the airport. Also stand as close as possible by the arrivals so she doesn't need to carry her luggage with a broken wrist.

His worry over the medication that makes her drowsy??? Omg Louis loves her so much its sickening what the hell. I need to see Daniel catching bestie in 4k, casually snoozing peacefully with Louis bc she feels so safe and i need daniel to snap a picture to blackmail louis with it later. (the 70 year old senior is louis younger brother confirmed by jacob anderson himself lmao)

The one hundred thousand over set price for her painting reference???? So Louis doesn't even know, I wonder where armand is keeping the painting. I also wonder what his intentions are with reader. Like... what are his feelings, is his interest romantic, platonic, sexual or something completely different.

Now bestie reader is so gen z and i know for a fact the people in this generation will see bullshit from miles away. (we've been trained by social media) I love the idea of armand being the manipulative gremlin that he is and reader just seeing straight through it. She's a baddie we know damn well she will CLOCK HIM the second he tries to shift the playing field. And I know he'll like it too. Just look at him and Daniel. (rip non book readers, devils minion will give you whiplash)

SIDE NOTE: i love the moment in the show when armand is retelling his story of the trial in paris and Daniel questioning how tf a five hundred year old ancient did not have the ability to stop his own coven. Daniel's smug face and the deadpan "Or what?". Daniel GO GET HIS ASS.

Daniel and reader would get along so well.

side note nr 2: i apologize for the bomb i just dropped in your inbox.

omg what a fun ask <33

i love armand, but in real life i'd be so over the theatrics of it all 😭 like yes you're playing chess and we're all playing checkers we get it!! no one will think you're less mysterious if you just answer the question omg

thank you for mentioning the louis thing! i'm glad you liked how i set it up bc i wanted his worry/frustration to be apparent but i still wanted it to feel in character. ik he's not opposed to greater crash outs (like the paris thing for my girl claudia ✊) but i also think that even when he's upset he understands time and place to an extent. like claudia's very intentional killers deserve worse than a guy who has done something relatively minor to reader on accident. however, it's still important that he very much would do the same if not worse for bestie reader if something actually bad happened to her, so i'm glad you read it that way!!

the josh thing pls 😭 i almost didn't have bestie reader give the guy a name bc she knew how he'd react. also i think that while louis isn't chill with murder, knowing that it'd be so easy to hurt someone who he thinks deserves it isn't an easily dismissible thought. i don't think he's jumping to hurt/kill everyone that's wronged bestie reader, but i do think it's an intrusive thought. the wrist thing 😭 i can see louis reacting like that if he was right there, but i feel like louis would only plan out violence if someone seriously/intentionally hurt reader.

this is going to sound off topic, but bare with me for a second. i haven't delved into this yet, but friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and while i'm committed to louis and bestie reader always being completely non-toxic, that doesn't mean their dynamic is simple. a major thing that complicates their relationship is the way that they worry over the way the other perceives them.

bestie is worried that louis perceives her as fragile and therefore fleeting and unworthy of long term attention. she's scared of being seen as a hindrance and as a burden. louis is worried that one day everything will click for bestie reader and she'll realize that he's a monster. so he's doing all he can to not demonstrate violence in front of her.

anyways, all this to say that he's not going around attacking people partially bc of his values but also bc he doesn't want her to associate violence with him.

also, total side note but this dynamic is actually what leads to reader and armand bonding. louis loves her so much and the thought of losing her is so distressing that sometimes he censors himself a little too much or treats reader like she's extremely fragile. armand doesn't. yes, this is because it's easier to risk losing someone that isn't the your emotional support human, but also bc he genuinely thinks she's capable of handling it. he'll tell her every (non-incriminating) vampire story ever in full, gory detail and reader is fascinated.

the accent comment is killing me 😭 ik that nola accent was HEAVY over the phone. reader felt those words in her soul.

and yes he’s AT that airport and he’s happy about it too lol.

also yes louis loves her sm 😭. ofc he was worried about her all alone on drowsy medication. that's the light of his life! what's he supposed to do if something happens to her? go back to only talking to his companion and occasionally a journalist accidentally moonlighting as a divorce lawyer??

also omg daniel and reader interactions are a need!! daniel being described as louis's younger brother is so important to me here omg. i love daniel and louis's relationship sm, and i just know daniel is ready for someone else with common sense to be sitting in. daniel looks at bestie reader like that one meme that's like 'you're the only bitch in the house i ever respected'.

the picture concept is so cute 😭 might have to write that into a scene bc i can see daniel seeing louis and reader asleep and at first being like ? and then taking the picture to bring it up later.

YES THE PAINTING REFERENCE i'm so glad you noticed!! i was so excited for it lol. i mentioned this in another post briefly, but i think armand's lowkey disgusted with himself for purchasing the painting bc it's a physical representation of the fact that he finds reader interesting. even before louis, before he knew her, he found something about her interesting, and bc he thinks reader has dismissed him, he wants to pretend that he's never thought about her at all.

i don't want to spoil where the painting is (it's not a major spoiler lol) but armand still has it and it is somewhere secret.

omg armand's intentions with bestie reader 😭!! i'm going to give you a short answer and then a long answer bc his feelings for her evolve slowly.

short answer: he has a really intense hate-crush on her. she's so beloved and perfect and basically the sun personified. he wants to consume her soul, he wants her to not exist, he wants her live forever, he wants her, he wants her to be just as obsessed with him so that he can calm down. she's an affliction. she's a blessing. he's going through it.

long answer: at first, he resents her bc she's taking up all of louis's attention and love. then, he starts to wonder what is so perfect and wonderful about her that has louis absolutely enraptured by her existence. then, he tries to win her over for his pride, and then..well...it spirals.

there's also the underlying benefits of getting reader to care more about him than louis bc then louis can't leave him without losing reader (most delusional and unrealistic part of his thought process tbh).

as far as end goals, he's a little lost bc all of this was an accident <3. it gets to a point where louis and reader are so intertwined, armand thinks he deserves to be with both of them. he's entitled to a matching set.

bestie reader's gen-z-ness being the reason she can see through everything armand says 😭. omg. in my head, she likes louis and armand together so when she realizes something is up she's like oh no. bc she obviously has to tell louis but she's not happy about it. lowkey on a subconscious level she doesn't want to not have armand in her life so she's like :(.

still calls him out tho bc she's loyal and also bc his lies are so egregious it's hard not to. i can picture her being lowkey sneaky when armand mentions saving louis, like feigning confusion and asking something like "just so i'm clear, isn't lestat also technically a powerful vampire? and wasn't he also in the building?" just to start something but also as a way of sending louis subliminal messages to lock in and open his eyes.

also i can see daniel realizing bestie reader knows something is up and looking at louis and being like "come on...i know, armand knows, even the girl that was really happy to be talking two minutes ago and now can't stop staring at the floor knows..." 😭

omg and armand liking being called out. this is for sure when his obsession with reader peaks. also, this hasn't come up yet, but i picture bestie reader as being very perceptive and when she argues with armand over small things she accidentally clocks him with next level reads that she'll never know how accurate they are. i'm talking reads so accurate, louis is immediately stepping in between them bc he thinks it's so over for her just for armand to let it go. (might need to write a drabble featuring this)

armand's love language to reader is not killing or torturing her for calling him out. it gets to a point where louis is like ? girl i've seen you kill people for implying what she just directly said?? if louis ever notices that something is going on with armand in relation to bestie reader it's bc of a suspicious lack of attempts to physically hurt her fr.

(also total side note, but bc you mentioned devil's minion, i just needed to say i love devil's minion era sm.)

omg in response to your side note, i LOVED that moment so much. "or what?" had me gagged. on the GROUND fr.

daniel and reader would get along so well. two divas coming together to maximize their joint slay. they're sitting around the penthouse giggling over the vampire drama like they're the immortal ones 😭.

also,, never apologize for sending me a long ask!! i'm currently very hyperfixated on iwtv and this was so fun for me! if anything, i'm sorry for how long this response was 😭💗

[fluentmoviequoter]

Pull This Move

0.8k+ words of chaotic Tim Bradford fluff

A/N: Have you guys seen the "when he's copying your snaps so you pull this move" thing? I saw a drawing of it with the Batboys and then this happened.

“Tim never keeps his ringer on,” Lucy muses after your phone buzzes again. “Is that a cop-to-cop thing?”

“Yeah, some people have problems with it, others don’t mind,” you explain. “I usually have mine silenced, I just forgot.”

“Do you know why Tim is off today?”

“Just needed a break,” you explain. “Have to have to a balance in a job like this.”

“And Snapchat gives you that balance?” Lucy teases as your phone chimes with an incoming photo. 

“If it’s from who I think it is, maybe,” you answer cryptically. 

“Who do you think it is?!” she inquires loudly. 

“Hold that thought, we’ve got a reckless driver ahead.”

During your lunch break, you open the new Snapchat and roll your eyes. 

“So,” Lucy says as she sits beside you. “Who is it? New boyfriend? Potential boyfriend?”

“Let’s go with really good friend,” you reply. “Who doesn’t know how to use the app and just copies my snaps.”

“Cute!!”

You hum, then think of the snap you wish to get. So, you open the app and move the phone to one side to capture your flexed bicep. Lucy gasps as you lock the screen, and you furrow your brows at her. 

“What?” you ask. 

“It is a guy! Why else would you flex to have them copy it? Tell me everything!”

“New rule, when I’m substituting as your TO, you have to talk to me like Tim.”

Lucy sighs and raises her hands in surrender when your phone chimes again. Yet, after you unlock it, she snatches your phone out of your hand. 

“Lucy!” you yell as she stands. “No, stop- listen. I will blue page you, Chen!”

Lucy freezes. Half-standing with your arm extended over the table, you exhale. 

“Give it back and I’ll- I’ll let you see the picture. That’s it, and you have to learn to respect boundaries.”

“Will you tell Tim?” she asks, blocking your phone with her free hand. 

“Not if you listen.”

Lucy nods and passes your phone back with a quiet apology. You sit, and Lucy pulls her chair beside yours. You click the red square in the app and lift a brow appreciatively at the muscled arm on the screen. There is a familiar gray shirt stretched tightly around the flexed bicep, and you hold the screen for several seconds to prolong your enjoyment of the picture. 

“There,” you say, shifting your hips to slide your phone into your pocket. “Happy, Chen?”

Lucy doesn’t answer, and you turn toward her. Her jaw drops as she stares at you. 

“What?”

“Was that Tim?” she asks. 

“Why would you think that?” you say rather than answering. 

“He wears a lot of gray shirts, and you… I don’t know how to say this without getting in trouble again.”

You cross your arms below your powered-off body cam and lean back in your seat. “Speak freely, Lucy.”

“Everyone knows you have a crush on him,” she blurts out. 

“So, a gray shirt and a workplace crush lead you to believe that Tim - officer stoic and serious - would send me a Snapchat?” you challenge. 

“Well when you put it like that,” Lucy mumbles, “it sounds ridiculous.”

“I’ll give you something if you give me something,” you offer. “I need some dirt on Lopez. Help me get that, and I’ll tell you something.”

“Done,” Lucy agrees. Then, she asks, “Wait, why? What’d she do?”

“No questions. Agree or don’t,” you reply. Lucy nods, and you say, “I’m going on a date with the guy in the picture tonight. We’ve been dating for a while.”

“Will you tell me more later? If things work out and I get something on Angela?”

You stand to return to the shop and say, “We’ll see.”

Walking into your house after your shift ends, you sigh. 

“Did you actually help my boot today or just send Snapchats?” someone asks from the kitchen.

Laughing, you enter the room and lean your forehead between your boyfriend’s shoulder blades. 

“Lucy saw the picture,” you say. “It was a really good picture, though.”

“How?” he asks, holding your arm as he turns toward you. 

“She wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t tell her much, and she’s helping with our Angela problem.”

“Your Angela problem,” Tim corrects. 

“Which will become our Angela problem when she finds out that my fiancé and my least favorite sergeant are the same man,” you point out. 

“Shouldn’t have told her you were engaged.”

“I didn’t!” 

Tim chuckles, so you sigh and fall against his chest. 

“It’ll be fine,” he assures you. 

“As long as you keep showing those Bradford biceps,” you grumble against his chest. 

“Hey,” Tim begins carefully. 

You pull back and narrow your eyes at him. 

“If Angela already has an idea, and Wade knows… maybe we should ask them to help,” he suggests. 

“You want Wade and Angela to be our witnesses?” you clarify. After a moment, you concede, “It could work. She’d keep it a secret if we let her come to the wedding.”

“Not what most people think about when they’re wedding planning.”

You smile and kiss Tim, thankful that your relationship is anything but average. Most people don’t have Tim Bradford going down the aisle with them, you think.

[caesariawritesstuff]

Hello there! 👋I had this idea in my head for a while. The detective decides it's better to leave Gotham and Edward manages to convince her to stay by admitting his feelings for her. If you have the inspiration to write something like this I would be more than happy to read it��🥺🥺

Your works are all amazing and I can't wait to read more❤️❤️

Don't Leave Me

Summary: You try to leave Gotham, but Edward stops you just in time.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: Spoilers for the end of Arc I of Cat & Mouse.

A/N: My dear @vas17sblog, I have to sincerely apologize for the fact that this ask has been sitting in my inbox since July. 💀 I am literally the worst. I'd always intended to answer this since I felt it fit better after the events of Arc I, but damn, I'm so sorry this took me months to get to. Please forgive me!!!

I also had a request to use the prompt "Don't leave me. Not like this" from an anon, which I combined into this request!

It was snowing.

Soft flurries came down from the sky, threatening to coat Gotham in a blanket of white. One bag was clutched tight to your side, the strap digging into your shoulder. The bus stop around you was quiet, not a soul in sight, as cars drove past on the icy roads. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the ticket for Metropolis, gazing at it for a long moment, before stuffing it back into your pocket, the paper rough against your fingertips.

The movers were already at your apartment. You’d let them in, instructed them to pack everything into boxes, and that was that. You couldn’t bear to do it yourself. You didn’t want to see all of your things, belongings you love, stuffed away into boxes and hauled into the back of a truck. You’d already rented a place in Metropolis. Hadn’t even cared to look at anything more than a few photos online. Hadn’t cared that the rent was high. The truth was that you just wanted out of this fucking city, and you were willing to pay a high price to get out. Everywhere you looked, your memories were plagued with all that happened with Beau and the rest of the GCPD. His words remained a constant echo in your mind, gnawing at your soul, ripping it to shreds. Ripping it right from your marrow and stabbing into your very flesh. When you closed your eyes, you saw his smug face. In the dead of night, you heard his voice. Saw Archer’s dead eyes staring back at you. The brand on your skin was still healing, and you itched at the skin around it almost absent-mindedly, like a new bad habit. A habit you couldn’t shake.

This decision hadn’t come lightly. You’d spent hours thinking about what you could do, how you could just get out of Gotham and leave everything behind. The truth was that you needed a fresh start. You need something else – something but the pain and agony rippling through you. Something more than the suffering, more than the pain. You didn’t know what you were going to do, or what Metropolis had in store, but getting out of here…it was the only thing you knew what to do right now. The only thing you wanted.

Edward didn’t know. He couldn’t know. You’d written him a letter and dropped it off at the GCPD, and asked for the receptionist to deliver it to him. By the time he read and came looking for you, you would be long gone. And he couldn’t follow you out of the city, not without risking his parole. He would be made. He would be furious…but he wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t he? He knew what you’d been through, seen it with his own two eyes. He had to understand…but he didn’t have a choice. You’d made your choice.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away, squeezing your eyes shut as you shivered against the cold. Where was the damn bus? It should’ve been here by now. Should’ve—

“Detective.”

His voice.

Your eyes snapped open and you turned around in time to find Edward standing there, his eyes wide, his cheeks and nose tinged pink from the chill. Soft flurries of white fell into his hair and onto his shoulders.

“Edward…” you whispered, panic rippling through you. How did he find you?

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice rough, eyes narrowed.

“Didn’t you read my note?”

“Of course I did. Every damn word. Twice.” His lips curled back in a scowl. You recognized this look – just how mad he was.

You averted your gaze, a lump forming in your throat, as you glanced both ways down the quiet, still streets. Headlights from passing cars flashed in your eyes.

“It’s not coming,” he said. “I hacked into the bust depot station ad changed the route.”

“What?” you asked, turning back to him. “Why would you do that?”

“And why would you do this?” he demanded, yanking the note out of his pocket, shaking it in his white-knuckled grip. He took a step closer, redness crawling up his throat. “Why would you – I thought – I…” His words trailed off.

“It’s easier this way, Edward,” you said, your voice holding no warmth to it.

He scoffed. “Easier? For who? For you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re running, my dear.”

“I’m trying to get away from all of this. From Gotham. Don’t you get that?”

“Are you trying to get away from Gotham? Or from me?” he asked, raising his brows.

His words were like a slap in the face. You stepped back, blinking, your lips twisting into a scowl that matched his own…but maybe there was some truth to what he was saying. Some truth to the reality in which you were trying so hard to avoid.

“I…” the words lodged in your throat.

He took a step closer. “Don’t leave me. Not like this.”

The pain in his voice was raw and real. It was full of everything that made your heart shatter into a million pieces, breaking apart and shattering your very soul. Tears welled behind your eyes as your mouth fell agape, all words dying on your tongue.

“Edward…” you murmured. “I can’t stay here. I can’t—”

“Please,” he whispered, his hands shooting out to capture your face in his hands, his skin warm against your cheeks. Tears spilled from your eyes, and he wiped them away.

“Please don’t run away,” he said. “Not from me. Not from this damn city. Please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tilting your head slightly into his hand. You’d been so firm in your decision, so adamant about it, so desperate to get out of here and keep everything a secret from Edward – because you still couldn’t look at him. This was the first time you’d seen him in person in weeks, and this was exactly why you’d never wanted to see him in the first place – because seeing him reignited all those feelings inside of you, that aching warmth in your heart.

And now you were questioning everything all over again.

“I can’t,” you whispered, voice trembling.

“Yes, you can,” he pleaded. “You’re strong. You’re not a coward.”

“But I’m so scared,” you whispered. You were terrified of what the future held, of what was going to happen next. It clawed up your throat and made itself known, shedding your skin and burrowing its way inside.

“I know,” he said. “But don’t let your fears control you. Don’t let it consume you.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” you asked, opening your eyes again to find him staring down at you, towering over you, his body heat enveloping you.

“No,” he said. “Not as long as I have you.”

You scoffed under your breath. “I have to go, Edward.”

“No,” he said, firmer this time. “I refuse to let you run.”

You looked away, back at the quiet streets. A thousand questions raced through your mind, but you weren’t sure what to ask of him or how to make sense of this. How were you supposed to move on? To go on after everything that happened? To walk these streets and pretend that nothing happened to you?

You met his gaze, hardened, his jaw set tight. His hands still cupped your face, wiping away the tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. But the longer you stared at him, the more the heartache in your chest only grew. God – this is exactly why you’d never wanted to see him: because standing here with him reignited all of your feelings and reminded you just how much you wanted to stay with him, to stay in the city you called home.

“After everything we’ve been through…why would you do this to me?” he asked.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you said. “I just—”

“Don’t you get it, detective? How much I care about you? How much I need you in my life?” he asked. “And if you leave, I’ll…” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t get the words out.

You looked away again, words dying on your tongue. His words were a knife in your stomach, twisting and twisting, pulling your soul from your body and stomping on it.

“Detective,” he said again, pulling your eyes to him again. “If you get on that bus, you’re not just leaving Gotham. You’re leaving me. And I cannot sit here and watch you disappear from my life. I won’t let it happen.”

“Edward…”

“I won’t let you run from this. From me. From us,” he said.

Your jaw fell open slightly, your vision blurring from the tears. “But I’m so fucking scared, Edward,” you whispered.

He exhaled a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your face, as if he feared you would slip away the second he let go. His blue eyes burned holes into your own. The soft flurries increased a little, melting on yours and his warm skin.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice unsteady. “I know, because I am, too. Every single day, I wake up terrified that I’ll lose you. That you’ll decide I’m not worthy of you anymore, that one day, you’ll come to your sense and realize I’ve just been a waste of your time. That one day, you’ll wake up and realize you’re better off without me. And now…now you’re proving that fear right.”

Your throat tightened. “Edward…”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes burning with anger. “You need to listen to me. You need to get it through that thick skull of yours, through that tiny mind I love so much, that if you walk away, if you get on that bus, I swear, I’ll never be the same again.”

“Edward—”

“Listen, detective,” he said again, firmer this time. “Gotham has been nothing but a warzone for me. A place I wanted to prove myself better than the rest of the idiots he walk these streets. A place where I’ve had to run and fight and manipulate to survive. I fought for control, to conquer, to ruin. And then you…” He shook his head, scoffing. “And then you had the audacity to walk into my life. “To make me feel something for you that I’ve never felt for someone else. To make me feel things I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling. And I don’t give one damn about the rest of the city, or the GCPD, or anyone else. You are the only thing I care about.”

His voice dropped into a low whisper. “Detective, I…”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the tears continuing to fall, trembling in his arms now as he pulled you closer, his breath a soft mist against your own skin.

“I don’t know what will become of me if you leave,” he continued after a moment. “I don’t know how I’ll just go on with my sorry, miserable life. You are the only thing that makes my life bearable. The only thing that keeps my reform something I want to work for – to be better for you. If I have to beg, I will. If I have to kneel in this damn snow and swear my life to you, I’ll do it. But please, for the love of God, do not get on that bus. Stay with me. Please.”

The weight of his words crashed over you like a tidal wave. His hands trembled, his breathing grew uneven, as if every part of him clung to you. Like the moment he let go, he would shatter completely, the pieces of him broken all across the snow. His gaze was unwavering, determined, filled with that look you loved so much, his blue eyes only drawing you further and further in. Your chest tightened painfully, like someone was squeezing your heart in their fist. Your own breath hitched in your throat, more tears streaming down your cheeks, which he only wiped away without hesitation.

In the quiet, you heard the deep rumbling of a bus down the road. You finally tore your eyes from his and looked away just in time to see the bus come to a rolling stop by the sign. The doors opened, lights bright and flashing, headlights illuminating the flurries in the snow.

“Please,” Edward whispered again. “Stay. Stay with me.”

His words crackled something to life inside of you, breaking through the walls you’d formed around your fragile heart. He was laying everything out, every vulnerable piece of himself, begging you not to leave…and God, how could you walk away from this? From him?

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to stay here,” you whispered.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said without hesitation.

“You’re impossible, Edward Nigma,” you whispered. “You’re so selfish.”

“Selfish for you,” he replied, his lips curving into that smug smile you loved so much.

You shook your head, but pain rippled through you – but a sob tore from your throat, and before you could think, you threw your arms around him, burying yourself in his warmth. He clutched to you just as tightly, his arms wrapping around you, his breath in your hair, at your cheek, as he trembled against you.

“Please don’t leave,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “I don’t give a damn about this city. But you…you are the only thing that has ever felt real.”

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his coat, holding onto him like he was a life vest. The bust doors closed as it pulled away, continuing on its route. The ticket in your pocket was meaningless now. Because, deep down, you knew the truth: he had become everything to you. And even though you could leave Gotham, you could never leave him.

And maybe that was enough.

[hakusins]

ngl i can never understand when ppl look at mydei or gilgamesh and go 'omg daddy!!!' because these two are the most womanly looking women i've ever seen. feminine little princesses. pampered spoiled brats who never worked a day in their life. the kind of feminine woman that brings out the misogynist in you and makes u want to get them pregnant with quadruplets-

[primofate]

"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left

Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts

Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  

Aether

gets flustered

"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."

he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?

Starts to second guess if he really gave you that

Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment

Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark

"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"

Albedo

stares at it for the longest time.

There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.

Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever

"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"

Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it

Brews about a 100 of 'em

Alhaitham

Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye

"I'd advise you to hide it,"

he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out

but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you

"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."

He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.

"...I best be going now."

He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.

Ayato

chuckles to himself

"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"

but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.

Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"

You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.

Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"

Cyno

is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.

Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.

Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind

Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...

Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.

"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."

You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding

Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.

Dainsleif

Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.

Points it out immediately

"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.

"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...

"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"

Diluc

is surprised, then apologetic

He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night

Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.

"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"

Is seriously considering repenting about it

Itto

"Whoa--"

Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers

"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully

No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say

"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"

You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment

Kaeya

smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.

"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"

winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.

"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"

is only half joking

Lyney

mischievous laugh

is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic

"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling

"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"

Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"

always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.

Neuvillette

clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water

"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.

"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.

"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"

points it out by gently thumbing at it

Scaramouche

shit-eating grin at the sight of it

Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.

"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now

but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"

Tartaglia

laughs but is slightly apologetic

"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.

"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"

I think you know what or where he's thinking about

Tighnari

Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.

"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"

He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously

He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"

He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.

"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.

Wriothesley

laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards

Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically

"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms

Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"

Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.

"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"

Xiao

Freezes while looking at it

For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.

"...Y/N..."

seriously does not know what to say

stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.

"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"

You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.

Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"

Zhongli

chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.

"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"

he again chuckles as he explains.

"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"

brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it

End

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Here’s the Masterlist

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ When someone tries to imitate you or take your place 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone 

(tw: general mentions of violence and intimacy, swf. Old ask suggested by the lovely @pandaquick, better late than never)

Your position in the Fatui is a much more personal and delicate matter. You are not just some high-rank advisor or soldier idling within the Zapolyarny Palace, nor can you be defined as another Fatuus. You are someone of a different echelon - a Harbinger’s beloved, safeguarded with the utmost honor conferred by Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. It is no secret your significant other would utilize a whole army to protect you, but what happens when someone, in their foolishness, forgets that?

✧ Pierro was the first to notice that someone tried to imitate you. An individual of high status endeavored to emulate your work and areas of expertise. Subsequently, this individual began to adopt aspects of your appearance, from hairstyle to clothing. However, the breaking point occurred when this foolish person attempted to purchase an identical jewelry brooch to the one you frequently wore. It was a similar piece, one gifted to you by Pierro.

Except that imitator missed one important clue - Pierro orders you custom-made silver adorned with deep-cut sapphires that would put the Tsaritsa’s crown into shame. A one of a kind piece.

This cheap attempt to imitate you and usurp your spot was what forced The Jester to abandon his silent observation. His gaze has long caught the envious glances directed towards you whenever you accompanied him on meetings, whenever he linked his arm with yours, whenever he generously kneeled beside you to put his coat over your shoulder and keep you warm from Snezhnaya’s cold - the same individual, always seething with resentment. Thus, it was time for the Director to silently act. 

He kept tabs on this person via a network of spies, gathering intel on their behavior and intentions. And with the most skilled spies raised from the House of the Hearth, it didn't take long to have a whole pile of evidence right on his desk. And with the simple snap of his fingers, he effortlessly orchestrated the apprehension and subsequent banishment of the culprit, sparing no unnecessary words. Hearsay will not be tolerated in the Fatui, but to see some lowly scum tarnish your reputation by cheap mimicry then it’ll be his responsibility to weed out. 

“Pierro, dearest, What's wrong? You seem so deep in thought.” - Your gentle murmur broke The Jester's train of thought. As he lay in bed, your head resting on his chest and his arm draped over you, he reminded himself that he was in the comfort of your love. He doesn't have to mull over the bloodied ordinances when he feels the warmth of your skin underneath the covers.

“Apologies, my divine. It seems my mind was drifting to troubling thoughts. But it no longer matters when you're here.” - Thus, he gently planted a kiss on your forehead and tucked the covers around your body which harbored marks of his devotion earlier that night.

✧ Il Capitano clutched the hilt of his sword in resolution. Something was wrong and he could see it. The Harbinger was in the middle of his morning spar with you, a regular training session where you and the Captain warm up as a routine. He stood in a defensive stance, his movements fluid yet measured as his sword received blow after blow from your weapon. You, on the other hand, moved like a silent tempest, your strikes precise yet frustratingly urgent.

It was unlike you to be so unsteady, noted Capitano to himself, especially when fighting. Despite the unspoken patience, an undercurrent of concealed despondency and anger laced your body language. 

“Alright, my dear, I can feel your unease. What troubles your heart?” 

You shook your head, panting as you almost faltered. You insisted on continuing the training session, but it was clear your brave facade was almost crumbling. 

“It would be foolish to continue. And I care about your well-being. Please, confide in me, my beloved.”

You tried, you really did. But before you know it, your lips pursed into a thin line and a flood of tears escaped the moment you shakily lowered your weapon. Now the Captain was on full alert, rushing towards you and gently supporting you before you could hide your tearful face in shame. With an arm around your trembling form and much persuasion - you relented and shared the source of your frustration. A newly enlisted soldier had undergone thorough training under the tutelage of Il Capitano, and their impressive advancement was unmistakably evident in their unwavering dedication. However, this individual began to devote more time to the Captain, delving into military intelligence and climbing the ranks. You genuinely felt joy for the new recruit, truly. Yet in timid humiliation, you had to confess you felt obsolete as if your power alone wasn’t enough for a harbinger of his caliber and ranks.

“Ah, my dear, you are far from weak. My time with the trainees is merely a duty, a part of my job as the 1st Harbinger. But when it comes to you, my dear, your might and wisdom are incomparable. You don’t deserve my ranks, you deserve my life laid before you.”

But whatever gentle words of affection were coming out of the Captain, your next words of truth made him halt at once. “... At least, that’s what the recruit told me when we spoke. That I'm weak.” 

“...What did you say?” 

The gentle armored hand on your shoulder now tightened in restrained anger, fury flaring within his chest. Capitano now understood: your tears, your sudden insecurity, your doubt, your silence… It wasn’t coincidental. This recruit who was so conveniently rising in the ranks made sure to aim not just for the Harbinger. Specifically, you; to sow self-doubt onto you and hinder your precious relationship. Someone was deliberately bullying you.

You looked up at Capitano’s dreadful silence, asking him what was wrong.

“It… seems, my dear, someone has crossed an unforgivable line. One that would cost them their life dearly. And I am to blame for not noticing when harm and doubt came your way. I must amend this transgression for your forgiveness.”

You blinked in response, not having time to comprehend the severity of his words; It’s hard to respond when your beloved suddenly kneels and bows like a knight on duty. In the end, Capitano ushered you to take a day off and let your mind rest easy.

The next day, Capitano returned home early but was eerily silent once more. He stayed with you the whole day, like a hawk overlooking his nest, his arms crossed but his touch gentle. Although he claimed nothing was wrong, you received news that certain recruits were gone, and any upcoming soldiers that would come into his care would receive even stricter training from now on. That day, you wondered why some Fatui soldiers feared talking to you. Not to mention the armor around Capitano’s knuckles seemed faintly red-tinted.

The Fatui organization was a constant battle of powers and ranks. But to climb the ladder and meddle with the life of The Captain was a personal offense, one that would result in quick and unapologetic bloodshed. Nevertheless, he made sure to remind his soldiers about that. 

✧ When one of the folks working under Il Dottore as a lab analyst approached you, you didn’t expect them to call you names so suddenly. You stood there, confused and apprehensive at the sudden barrage of insults from the stranger. But they explained:

“You don’t do anything when helping during research, you know! I don’t even know how The 2nd tolerates you when you’re this useless. I’ll tell you what, quit your special-treatment act, and don’t come back to the lab. The Doctor is better off with someone of his level of intellect.”

You didn’t fight or defend yourself, you didn’t even insult the assistant. Instead, you smiled simply  - “Very well, I won’t. Good luck.”

That day, you turned and left. The frustrated lab analyst was left in confusion but thought they succeeded in eliminating the only obstacle left to get closer to the elusive yet powerful Harbinger. After all, what the hell do you even do at his lab? You exchange a few words with Dottore, maybe sporadically point at what to do, and remain seated in the back, resting as if you were the Tsaritsa herself. The audacity. How come Il Dottore never kicked you out?

Well, it didn't take long for this person to find out.

The next day, naturally, Dottore couldn’t find you when he proceeded with work. You were neither at his study, nor at the lab, nor at your favorite corner of the library. It was barely noon, and receiving your warm greetings was his routine. And the Doctor always follows the agenda.

“Where are they?” 

His question was brief but pointed, and his subordinates knew exactly who he was referring to. They could sense the tension in his voice. The only individual privy to the reason for your absence smirked smugly and responded.

“Hmph. It seems they decided not to come, Lord Harbinger Dottore.”

That was their first mistake because The Doctor caught on to the haughty smirk coming from his new analyst.

“And you know so certainly how?” - he quickly gestured to a nearby Fatui servant with a flick of his wrist. “Send in servants to check in on my behalf. I wasn’t informed. If my darling is feeling tired or unwell, bring their preferred refreshment immediately, and ensure it is warm.”

However, this displeased the new lab assistant, as even while you were away, Dottore was still dotting on you as if it was his second nature to do so while he was busy with work. Thus, they cleared their throat and spoke up:

“They… barely accomplished anything in your presence, doctor. So I advised them to leave, to which they agreed. Pretty straightforward, s-sir.” 

“Oh? Did you, now” - A burning rage, like never before, flared up within Il Dottore. With clenched teeth and a rigid jaw, his voice oozed with venom. But any seasoned lackey working under Dottore knew that this was the calm before the storm. Because soon, an echo of shattering vials and slammed objects would ring out from the laboratory. And in your absence, nothing would prevent the doctor from showing a bit of despotism. 

Much later that evening, after everything was set and done, the servants informed him of your whereabouts. Il Dottore briskly made his way through the Zapolyarny Palace to find you. Spotting you tucked away in a secluded nook of the palace, he hastened over, anxious to ensure your well-being, fearing you might’ve withdrawn due to the influence of some blabbering lowlife. 

“Dear! There you are… No one has the right to speak to you like that ever. Are you alright? My dearest, why did you not tell me immediately?! I would’ve-”

Dottore’s frustrated rambles come to a halt when you place a finger on his lips to shush him. You didn’t look despaired, in fact, you looked calm - “Zandik? Did you have another tantrum in your lab while I was absent?”

The doctor gulped, remembering his place. Calming his senses, he placed his hands on your waist and ushered you closer to his arms.

“... Perhaps. But I had to. How could I be certain that no one had harmed you? Why did you comply with that impudent fool? You should’ve gone to me first.”

“Well, it was unpleasant to hear the insults, sure. But…" - you glanced apologetically and a knowing smile returned to your lips. "I knew you'd find out and deal with the issue very quickly." 

✧ You and Pantalone were an odd couple. You didn't hail from a rich background, nor were you well-versed in the art of business and finance. You were more proficient in adventuring, your travels taking you to all sorts of journeys and commissions, a polar opposite from your beloved Pantalone. This led to raised eyebrows among the aristocrats of Snezhnaya. How can the richest man of Teyvat, who lives and works in prestige, be associated with such a simple person as you? For some, this gave the impression that they had a better chance of winning him over.

Thus, once upon a night, Pantalone was invited to a luxurious soirée. Here he was, clad in his finest suit, silver rings complementing his equally expensive optics. But to the Regrator, the jewelry adorning him was the least of his concerns - because you were the most precious gem in this gala. You accompanied him, although reluctantly, feeling out of place amidst the grand assembly of extravagant guests and the languid orchestra.

“Pantalone, do we have to…? I know you said this is not a business party, but there are so many guests already lining up to talk to you.” 

“Oh do not fret, my sweet. Evening galas like these are where the real negotiation and connections entail. But I know the details bore you, so I promise we won't stick here for too long. Besides, I get to introduce you as my one and only!”

That's exactly what you were afraid of. As a company of some esteemed noble ladies adorning elegant gowns, you had difficulties matching Pantalone’s polite smile. Overwhelmed by the scrutinizing gazes of some guests, you politely excused yourself to the bathroom. Pantalone was concerned, thinking of following you, but that was exactly what the guests wanted. 

You spent a long while by the hallway alone, trying to stabilize your breathing. The muttering of guests enjoying drinks and strolling was faint, but you could hear some people nearby:

“How can the 9th be with someone like them…? Surely it’s a joke.”

“A charming, rich man like him, and he can have anyone he desires. Yet he wastes his time on a simpleton?”

“Someone was definitely in it for the Mora, maybe he hasn’t seen real class. Quick, let’s go talk to him while he is alone.”

You stood with your back to a wall, and for the first time, uncertainty crept in. With fists clenched by your side, you reprimanded yourself that you are not alone. You came here with your significant other - and he, above all else, knows that gossip has no place in your shared private life. Hence, gathering up your courage, you raise your head high and strode back into the gala.

Pantalone, unfortunately yet expectedly, was surrounded by the same foul-mouthed nobles who wished to impress him. They prattled on about his financial success, while ladies fanned their folding fans and stood too close for his comfort. While they humored him, The Regrator cast hurried glances around the gala in search of you. Where are you?

“Lord Harbinger, may we offer you more champagne? I am sure this expensive bottle is up to your taste.”

The 9th attempted to hide his frown at the woman's tone, his stomach unwilling to ingest any drink some excessively elaborate name. “No thank you, I’d rather decline. I am waiting for my dear. I promised her a dance later this evening.”

“Oh, please sir, I insist. The night is young and there is plenty more for-” 

Before the woman could continue, your voice cut through the air; calm, yet unmistakably firm. “He said no. Simple enough to understand.”  

A hush fell over the gathered guests, the weight of your words settling like a sudden gust. Only Pantalone beamed with a genuine smile. “Ah, dear! There you are,”. The Harbinger was about to step back towards you, when the same lady suddenly blocked his path, her back facing him while her tone edged with defiance.

“I beg your pardon, but I’m afraid the question is directed towards Lord Harbinger Pantalone. I am sure you wouldn't know the pleasure of tasting a 500,000 Mora champagne from Fontaine.”

You recognized the snark in her tone directed towards you, and you couldn’t deny the anxiety twisting in your gut as eyes narrowed in your direction. However, with a shake of your head, you reminded yourself who you truly are and simply said: “Sheesh, lady, you spend that much on a drink that tastes worse than sparkling water? To each their own, I presume”

Her smile vanished. The guests stared in stunned silence, but it was Pantalone’s genuine laughter that pierced the tension. The sound was rich and real—because only he knew how adept you were at humbling an overconfident aristocrat with a dose of blunt truth. That’s how Pantalone managed to push through the crowd and circle his arm back around your waist, leaving the astonished onlookers behind.

“Ah dear, you’re a savior. I apologize I dragged us into this unpleasant company…” - he confined to you apologetically as you two walked away. “You always knew how to be sincere in your honest way.”

“It’s not like I meant to pick up a fight…" - you sighed. "I simply couldn't bear the humiliation, Pantalone. I'm aware that some people give me strange looks when I'm with you. They regard me as if I'm some peasant standing next to a powerful Fatui harbinger. That I'm nothing. That's why I couldn’t just hide, I had to step up to defend myself.”

“Oh, darling… My sweet, precious darling.” - The two of you left the manor that hosted the soiree, the chill night breeze muting the faint sound of guests and replacing it with a symphony of cricket noise from the garden nearby. Pantalone's fingers intertwined with yours.

"You are not just 'nothing' - you're my everything. You did not come from riches, and neither did I. You of all people know that. Would I really hold respect for some rich fool who didn't know an ounce of hardship when Mora was all they had since birth? No, dear, I wouldn't."

With a tender hand, he rested his palm on your waist, gently guiding you along the cobblestone path as if leading you into a slow waltz by garden roses in the night.

"Besides, you should never be ashamed to seek out my help. Although I must admit... Your tone earlier - oh my. Use it on me more often, darling. I wouldn't mind." 

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Dp x Dc short idea

Jason is Danny’s dad

Warning: Language

Jason had just returned to the family publicly about two weeks ago. It hadn’t even been that long for him to settle before something happened. The press weren’t even off his ass and he has Alfred requesting he return home for an urgent matter immediately, which is butler speak for get your ass here right now!

The family was happy but adjusting to everything. They had mandatory family dinners at least twice a month and voluntarily got together more frequently, mostly just the siblings, but every once in a while Bruce would sneak in for a movie in the family room.

Alfred was pleased with the progress the family has made over the course of many years. It finally felt like everything was coming together and maybe settling down. He knew he thought that too soon when he answered the buzzer at the front gate. They weren’t expecting any visitors and looking at the video feed it was a young woman with hands on her hips glaring back at the camera. There were two large bags with her and surprisingly enough a young child playing in the grass just a short distance behind her.

“Wayne Residence, Alfred Pennyworth speaking, how may I assist you, ma’am?”

“Lettin’ me in for starters,” she says back with venom on her tongue.

“My apologies, but you do not have an appointment.”

She snorts, “Nah, but ya see, I saw that bastard on the news and thought I’d drop off what he gave me.”

To get her point across, she turns and looks back at the little boy not paying her any attention.

“Danny!” She snaps and he jerks his head to look at, who Alfred is assuming is, his mother. “Come here.”

He hops up at his own pace and dusts off the grass on his knees before trotting over. She leans down to angle the young boy away from the camera and pushing back his hair.

He couldn’t see it well before by the way the boy was positioned before, but Alfred could clearly see a prominent patch of white hair on the left lower section by his neck. Just like the white batch on Jason.

“You gonna let us in now?” She asks rudely.

Alfred has already determined he did not like this woman. He still buzzes them in. He contacts Jason immediately followed closely with Bruce.

Alfred then helps the two carry in the bags, while subtly checking for any weapons or explosives. Instead he finds things meant for a child.

He really didn’t like this woman.

Bruce is the first one to arrive down the stairs, pausing towards the bottom. He glances at Alfred and can see the displeasure in the butler’s eyes.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you.”

“Fuckin’ everyone knows who you are, Brucie Wayne,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Bruce glances down at the very young child who is hearing the foul language. He couldn’t be more than five, and completely oblivious as the little boy runs a hand along the wall and looks around at everything. He particularly keeps going back to the shiny chandelier above their heads.

“Who might you be?” He asks the woman, coming back to her as she almost touches the vase on the entry table. She draws her hand back to fold her arms across her chest.

“Grace.”

The name seems ironic compared to her behavior.

“And how can I help you, Miss Grace?”

“Your thought-to-be-dead son left something of his. I’m here to return it.”

It took no detective to determine she was talking about the boy currently using the door frame to the sitting room as leverage to rock back and forth, holding on with his tiny hands. Bruce could see the splash of white among the dark hair from this angle.

Bruce hums.

“Is that so?”

“I’ve already contacted Master Jason. He should be arriving soon. Shall I prepare some refreshments in the drawing room?” Alfred informs.

“Thank you, Alfred. Right this way,” he says to Grace, directing her toward the left while pulling out his phone to ask Tim to prepare the proper equipment downstairs.

“Danny!” The woman calls with impatience. She glares at the little boy who calmly turns to look at her, then skips behind them.

Grace huffs but doesn’t say anything else as they enter the room. She sits herself in the middle of the love seat and Bruce takes one of the chairs across from her. The boy, Danny, explores the room thoroughly, walking around without pattern and investigating every nook and cabinet to keep himself entertained. Very curious little child.

Bruce tries to engage her in conversation to dig up more information, but she firmly wanted to wait for Jason before divulging anything. He did however find out that Danny is four and needs to be enrolled in kindergarten next turn. Grace works night shift but wouldn’t say where.

Alfred came with three waters, one in a smaller plastic cup for Danny, and a plate of crackers and cut up fruit.

Grace eyes the butler with a raised brow. However, the first words Danny has spoken in their presence is a cute, “Thank you, mister,” before munching on a cracker and sipping from his cup. His curious eyes flick over the fruit and wanders over to his mother who picks at a rip in her jeans. He taps her knee and she sighs.

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

Danny points to the fruit.

“What’s what?”

He creeps forward to point directly at the blackberries mixed in with the blueberries and strawberries.

“Blackberry,” she answers shortly.

“What’s it taste like?”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

He must have approved of that suggestion and reaches in to clumsily wrap a tiny hand around one of the dark berries. He flips it over in his hand for a minute, observing it at all angles, feeling the texture of the little bumps, before shoving it in his mouth. Danny leans his body over the coffee table to drag the bowl closer and rummage through it for more goodies.

Really looking at him, Bruce could see Jason’s freckles and the few other similarities like his square jaw and lip shape. He hasn’t seen it yet but Bruce bets Danny has the same crooked grin as his son.

He has the woman’s pale complexion and nose shape. His hair was straight like hers instead of Jason’s curls, but Danny took his dark coloring compared to her light brunette.

The boy was an adorable mix of both his son and this woman. He almost felt the test was unnecessary, but he didn’t stop Alfred from replacing the plastic cup and take it back to the kitchen where he knew it would be handed off to Tim.

Thankfully it was a day where there weren’t any meetings for either of them to attend.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Jason that enters the room first, it’s Damian coming home from school. The fourteen year old, almost fifteen, holds a leash in one hand with Titus standing patiently next to him, ready for his after school walk.

“Father, I heard we have guests.”

The teen stops in the doorway and Danny turns with interest until he spots the animal, then his eyes bug with excitement.

“Mommy, doggie,” he whisper shouts.

She just hums in affirmative, looking the new arrival up and down.

Danny grabs a blackberry from the bowl and trots over to Damian. He holds out the piece of fruit.

“This is a blackberry,” he states proudly.

Damian blinks down at the small child. Titus tilts his head, his nose working hard.

“I’m aware.”

“You can have it, if you let me pet your doggie,” he negotiates like he needed to give something in order to receive permission.

Damian looks up to his father for answers.

“Jason will be here soon,” is what he gets instead, his father’s lips twitch.

Damian looks back down in sudden realization when he sees the similarities between the man and this boy. He sighs tiredly.

“Pennyworth. A wet washcloth if you please.”

“Right away, Master Damian.”

“Next time, you only need to ask to pet Titus, you do not need to give me anything in return,” he tells the child.

Danny looks down at the berry sitting in his stained hands.

“So you don’t want it?”

“…Maybe later.”

“Okay!”

Danny skips back to carefully set the berry off the side on the tray, as if to save it for Damian for later like he said. He jogs the short distance back to them.

“Can I pet your doggie now, please?”

Damian takes the washcloth Alfred hands him with a nod and crouches down to get level with the boy.

“We must wipe our hands first. We don’t want anything sticky in his fur,” he explains as he holds out the washcloth for Danny’s hands.

The four year old looks down at the stains to see what he means and then places his hands on the washcloth for Damian to get the juices off.

The teen then calmly explains how to properly approach a dog he does not know by letting Titus smell the back of his hand first and then to always stay calm and confident.

Titus, the gentle giant that he is, had no problems letting the tiny child pat him and run small fingers through his short fur. It was endearing to hear the giggles when Titus used his big nose to sniff at the child’s face and neck. Sitting down, Titus was taller than the child standing up, which would have been scary to some kids, but Danny seemed to love Titus instantly. The little boy easily telling the dog what a good boy he is even with the dog sitting there doing nothing.

“Titus needs his afternoon walk now,” Damian informs.

Titus stands at the word walk, clearly ready to go.

“Oh, okay.” Danny turns to the big dog to reach up and pat his head twice. “Bye-bye, Titus. Have a good walk.”

The two leave and Danny skips back over to hang over the arm of the love seat his mother sits in, typing on her phone.

“Mommy, did you see the doggie? His name is Titus. He’s a good dog.”

“Uh-huh,” she comments without really listening.

“Do you like dogs, Danny?” Bruce asks with a smile.

Danny looks at him like he forgot the man was there, tilts his head as he studies him for a moment. Bruce waits patiently until Danny deems him okay and perks back up with bright eyes.

“Uh-huh! I love dogs! Mommy says we can’t get one ‘cuz our ‘partment is too small and they’re dirty. You’s guys are lucky,” the boy rambles as he wanders around the coffee table to get closer to Bruce and away from his distracted mother.

“How do you feel about cats? Damian has a black and white one around here somewhere.”

Danny shrugs and they continue to have a rather pleasant conversation about different animals and foods and each of their houses. It takes up the amount of time for Jason to walk through the door, seemingly already informed of the situation from Alfred.

Jason was… flabbergasted. Bewildered. Caught unprepared. He was a lot of words. Mostly he was scared.

Did he really have a child? A son? If that was true then he missed so much. He missed all of his firsts. First words, first steps, first laugh, first everything.

Would the boy even like him? What if he saw all his scars and was scared of him? What if he didn’t want anything to do with Jason after not being in his life this whole time?

But the boy might not be his. There’s that. That could be… Jason didn’t like the disappointment that thought brought.

Grace was the first one he noticed. Her ripped jeans and low cut top being out of place among the antique furniture and Persian rug. She scowls at him, putting her phone down.

“Finally decided to show up?”

He bites back a comment. He broke several traffic laws to get here, it wasn’t his fault he was fourty minutes away at the time he got the call.

He glances over at Bruce and instead his eyes zero in on the child standing by the armchair Bruce was sitting in.

Just one look and he knew the boy was his.

He looks to Bruce anyway for confirmation, since he has no doubt he sent off a sample to Tim hiding like the troll he is in the basement. The man nods. Jason sucks in a deep breath and suddenly needs to sit down.

He sinks heavily in the matching armchair next to Bruce’s, separated only by a round end table. Jason can’t stop staring at those big, blue eyes that are filled with such curiosity and innocence he almost breaks down right then. But he can’t. He has to be strong. He can’t just walk away to get a handle on his emotions. He’s a dad now.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Grace folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been busy,” he answers lamely.

She humphs and looks away with a shake of her head.

The boy, Danny Alfred said his name was, creeps around Bruce’s legs to get closer, obviously seeing something in Jason enough to investigate. The room is quiet as they wait to see how Danny will react.

Coming to a stop right before his knees, Danny stares up at the large man with lots of scars and muscles from what he can see. He wasn’t scared. There was just something familiar that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He looks… he looks like… and he also feels almost like…

Furrowing his brows in a pout, he knows his Mommy doesn’t like it when he does it, but he still makes his eyes burn with green.

The man gasps and his eyes also swirl into an angry green.

“Daddy?” Danny asks with hope and joy.

Daddy swallows and then nods.

“Yea, buddy, I’m your dad.”

“Daddy!” The boy cheers, jumping in place with a wide smile. “Daddy! Mommy, look! It’s Daddy!”

Danny wastes no time climbing into the man’s lap and wrapping his arms around him as far as they’ll go (not very far) to press his ear to Jason’s chest over his heart. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and Jason makes sure to set a large hand on his back to hold him close.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Grace hisses, her eyes wide at the display earlier. Both of their eyes had returned to their calmer blue and teal color, but everyone in the room saw it. “I knew he got it from you.”

His eyes narrow in warning, pulling the boy closer to his chest. He sets a hand over Danny’s exposed ear to protect him from the harsh words he’s probably already heard before.

“Do you have any idea how creepy it is to deal with a tantrum when your kid has fucking glowing green eyes?”

“Did you hit him?” Jason growls, the vibrations seeming to settle Danny even more.

“Please, I’m not my mother,” she dismisses with a sneer.

Could have fooled him.

“Everything was fine until he started doing freaky shit. I don’t know how to raise a meta kid, alright?”

“What are you talking about?”

Now he was just confused. What stuff was Danny doing that Grace thought he was a meta?

“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have powers too,” she points viciously.

“I’m not pretending. I don’t have powers. I don’t have the meta gene. What can he do?” He demands while being transparently clear.

She just glares back at him, obviously not believing him. That didn’t exactly matter at the moment.

“What can he do?” He repeats with emphasis.

She puckers her lips like she’s tasted something sour and then lifts her chin.

“Why doesn’t he just show you, huh? Danny- Would you stop babying him? Danny, show him the things you can do.”

After Jason takes the hand off the boy’s head, Danny turns to his mother warily.

“But you don’t like it,” he reminds, like she forgot.

“He wants to see it, so show him,” she waves a hand at Jason like he just asked for something he would regret.

Danny leans back to look up at his dad.

“You won’t get mad? Or scared?”

He sounds so unsure and scared. As if Jason could ever hate him. Jason really wants to punch something. Preferably something with her face on it.

“I promise I won’t.”

Another parent might have something more profound to say to reassure their child, but Jason was just starting out and honestly, it was more than Bruce would ever say.

Danny thinks for a second before wiggling to get down. He looks back once more at his mother who gives him a ‘get on with it’ motion.

The boy fidgets a little before covering his face with two hands like he’s playing hide and seek, then- disappears. Jason jerks at watching his son blink out of sight like a Martian.

“Boo!” Danny pops back into view, exactly where he was standing before with his hands out like any child on Halloween.

Jason blinks and then starts laughing. This was karma. Danny could literally become invisible, something the Bats train to do for years.

“That was good, buddy,” Jason chuckles, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Danny hesitantly smiles back, a bit of hope and pride in those eyes.

“There’s more,” Grace interrupts, seemingly uneasy with how well Jason reacted.

“Yea?” Jason directs to Danny, his focus on his son.

Danny gives a shaky nod, glancing over worriedly at Bruce who is just silently watching. Jason could see the tension in his shoulders but also the intrigue.

The boy places a hand on the coffee table and focuses on his hand. It took a few minutes of concentration before Danny’s hand went through the table like he was just dunking his hand in a pool instead of through a solid object.

He pulls his hand out and they could see it be slightly translucent.

“That one’s harder to do when I want to,” Danny mumbles.

“You mean it mostly happens on accident?”

Danny nods.

“I drop a lot. And get stuck sometimes.”

Yea, Jason can see how that could be a problem. He can’t imagine how terrified Danny was the first time a body part got stuck in an immovable object. He really wishes he could have been there for him in his panic.

“The last thing is hard too. But I’ve been practicing. Watch!”

Danny jumps once, twice, and on the third time he lingers in the air, coming down slowly like someone in water or astronauts on the moon. Danny pushes off the ground a fourth time, this time floating steadily higher like gravity meant nothing to him.

Despite the kid obviously have done this before and enjoying it with his giggles, Jason stands under him in case he falls. And falls he does. Suddenly, like the strings being cut and gravity taking hold of him again, Danny plummets into Jason waiting arms. The boy grunts on impact and then smiled sheepishly up at his dad.

“Sorry, Daddy. I promise I’m doing better.”

“That’s okay, squirt. I’m glad I was here to catch you.”

Jason plops back into the chair with his child in his lap.

“Anything else up that sleeve of yours?” He teases but is equally as serious.

Danny shakes his head enough to make his hair fluff. Jason looks to Grace for confirmation and sees she is still recovering from Danny’s fall out of the air. How many times has she had to catch him? Or wasn’t able to catch him?

She clears her throat.

“I don’t know if it’s part of it, but he never gets sick. Never even had a cough.”

Children always get sick, that’s how they build immune systems. For Danny to have never gotten even a cold, Jason doesn’t know if it’s worrying or a good thing.

“Any allergies?” Is the first thing on his mind, thinking of what Alfred will need to know.

She shakes her head with a negative hum.

“In one of the bags is a folder with all of his documents. Birth certificate, immunizations, doctor visits. I also made a list of some favorite things and things he hates. It has foods on there too.”

That was… honestly more than he was expecting from her. But it also cements the fact that she intended to drop him off with him and then never see them again. She raised him for four years and she doesn’t even want visitation? Does she not understand there are legal documents she needs to sign to transfer custody properly?

“There are some things you need to sign, but it will take some time to get it sorted,” Bruce chimes in all business.

Long nails swipe through the air like signing her rights away was trivial.

“My phone number and address are on one of the documents. Just tell me when and where.”

She stands to leave and Jason can feel Danny tense up.

“Are we leaving?” He asks worriedly, climbing down from his seat on his dad’s lap. He didn’t want to go.

“You’re staying here. With your dad,” Grace says shortly, not once looking at the boy.

“Are you going home to get the rest of our stuff?”

“No. I’m going home. You’re staying here. End of story.”

Danny visibly thinks on that for a second then scampers after his mother as she leaves the room.

“Is it like Robbie where his mom lives in one ‘partment and his dad lives in a different one?”

Grace sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She’s clearly flustered and is showing it as irritation, but Jason can’t help but trail behind in case she says something that she shouldn’t.

“No, Danny, it’s not like Robbie. I- I am leaving you here and I’m not coming back, okay?”

Jason takes a step forward to draw her attention and send her a look that says ‘choose your words carefully, this is a conversation he will remember for a long time’.

“But- but why? Is it ‘cuz of my things? I’m sorry I scared you, Mommy. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do them again, promise.”

Jason grits his teeth at how desperate his son sounds, trying to keep his mother with him. Even making a promise he can’t keep.

Grace finally looks at her baby. Sees the turmoil and tears in his baby blue eyes. She gets down on her knees to get level and places her hands on his tiny shoulders.

“You will do them again and that’s not a bad thing. Your things are part of you. That’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. I just- I’m in over my head here, Danny. I can’t take care of you the way you should be taken care of, okay? But your dad can, I hope. So I’m leaving you here. With him.”

Danny’s lip wobbles and she has to restrain herself from not hugging him like she always does when he’s upset.

“Then- then you’ll visit, right? Like Chase’s grandma visits him?”

Why is this so hard?

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you’re gonna see me again. I’m sorry.”

Danny is silent for a while. He wipes his eyes and sniffs.

“Are you goin’ ‘way like Jamal’s dad?”

The ten year old in the same building as them lost his dad in a wrong place wrong time type situation. Jamal had told Danny his dad went away forever so he couldn’t see him again. Grace had told him that when people go away forever, they get put among the stars he loves so much to be remembered.

Grace wears such a pained expression Jason half thought she was about to burst into tears.

“Kinda,” she nods. “So give me a big hug, okay?”

Danny was in her arms before she finished speaking. Jason didn’t exactly know why she wanted to stop all contact, but he had a theory that if Danny really was a meta (and with his powers he was leaning toward believing it) then Grace would want to distance herself as much as possible to protect them both. He met her in Crime Alley, he knew they didn’t live in a good spot. If any one of those crooks saw Danny use any of his powers, they could steal him easily from his single mother. She didn’t want to give those kind of people leverage to get Danny and sell him off. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, she was just trying to do what was best for her kid, even if that meant cutting her out of his life.

He had a strange new respect for her he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Grace takes a heavy breath and pulls away showing Danny’s tear stained cheeks. She wipes them like it would do anything.

“I gotta go now, Danny.”

“No,” he cries and Jason’s heart breaks a little more.

“We gotta say goodbye now. Please.”

Grace is just barely hanging on. Jason knows as soon as she walks out that door she’ll break down.

“I don’t want to. Don’t want you to leave,” Danny whines, trying to keep a strong grip on his mother.

She holds his hands in hers and gives him a serious look.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re gonna be just fine with your dad.” She leans in and whispers, “You’re not alone, Danny. You are never alone. Just look up. Look at the stars, baby, and you’ll be okay.”

Danny pouts, but thinks about those words.

“I like the stars,” he mumbles.

She smiles, probably the first one in a while.

“I know you do.”

She kisses his forehead one last time and stands. Danny whines. She steps away.

“Bye-bye, Danny. I- I love you.”

“Mommy,” he cries, tears and snot coming full force now.

Jason can’t take anymore and picks up his son to hold on his hip.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” he assures. He turns to Grace who is having the internal battle of her life in the foyer. “I got him.”

It’s an assurance to her too, that he will take care of Danny, that he would be there for him. It was a promise.

Grace sees it for what it is and leaves out the front door without another word.

Danny screams and cries and struggles, but Jason holds on tight, scared he’ll fall or use his powers to get away and disappear. The man walks back to the drawing room so his son wasn’t staring at the door longingly.

As soon as Jason sits down, Danny struggles harder since they stopped moving. So Jason stands again, adjusting the boy in his arms and starts pacing a path around the room.

Bruce has already disappeared, not knowing what to do with a heartbroken child crying his eyes out. Alfred has cleared away the tray of snacks, leaving two waters on the table, one in a small, plastic cup. Jason spies Damian poke his head in for a second to see what the matter was, and upon seeing no immediate threat went off wherever. Other than that, father and son were alone to figure themselves out.

Danny was going through a lot for a toddler and Jason didn’t exactly know how to handle what happened either. He tried his best with speaking reassurances into the boy’s hair, but he didn’t know if Danny even heard him over his own crying.

It was a rough first meeting to be frank, but after a while (what felt like ages) Danny cried himself to sleep and Jason felt it safe to finally sprawl out on the loveseat with the boy laying on his chest. Compared to a grueling patrol, that was definitely worse. He never wanted to have to go through that again, but knew as a dad it was part of the job description.

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[tender-rosiey]

Can u do a drabble with jjk men where their child gets into a physical fight?

"MY KID IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!"

— when your kid with gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto, and toji gets into a fight (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband happily swings your hands together, as you walk to the principal’s office. meanwhile, you’re worried sick about s/n and what happened to him.

satoru rubs your hand reassuringly before slamming the door open and yelling, “did you win?!”

your eyes widen, but before you interject, s/n replies back enthusiastically, “yes, I did!”

you hurry to your son, kneeling in front of him to check him thoroughly.

you let out a sigh of relief when you see that he isn’t hurt in any way. sensing your distress, he hugs you. “I missed you, mama,” he says, snuggling into your neck.

“me too,” you smile and almost get lost in the moment, but then you hear a camera shutter. you look back and see your husband, holding a camera.

“oops, don’t mind me, hun.”

the dad of the other boy—who you didn’t notice was even there—stands up, livid, “can you take this a bit more seriously?! my son is injured!”

you’re about to reply yourself, but then satoru beats you to it. he stands right in front of the man and looks down at him, “surely, you’re not yelling at my wife, right?”

the man stumbles back into his chair, and satoru stares him down, making him sink even further into the chair.

the mother then speaks to you, “what your son did is unacceptable! look at how my baby is right now!”

looking at the other boy, you decide that the mother has every right to be mad. his nose is bleed profusely. you’re pretty sure it’s broken.

you look at your son and quirk an eyebrow, “s/n? what happened?”

“I was showing my friends the picture I got of you, and he said you were ugly! he can’t do that!”

your husband turns back and gasps, “he did what?!”

as if the dad himself is the one that is getting scolded, his eyes get teary.

meanwhile, you see the mother whispering to the boy, and he nods, ashamed. she looks back at you and says, “however, what your son did is not acceptable.”

“I know that the reaction was a bit much, but what your son did is also unacceptable,” you answer with your son nodding behind you.

“well—can you not be so close to my husband?” she snaps at satoru, whose cursed energy is increasing.

“you and your husband need to get taught a lesson if you raise a kid that’s so stupid he thinks my beautiful, divinie, and drop dead gorgeous wife is ugly,” he states, and the lady finds herself shrinking back beside her husband.

the little boy also scrambles into his parents’ embrace.

you place your hand on satoru’s forearm, and he immediately relaxes.

you smile and press a kiss to his cheek then pat your son’s back before instructing him softly, “you have to apologize for hurting him so much, though, s/n, okay?”

your son, ever the obedient sweetheart when it comes to you, looks at the boy, “I am sorry, but you should be sorry too!”

the other boy nods, crying, “I am sorry!”

your son nods, satisfied with the answer. your husband then picks s/n up and spins him around as he sings his praises, “I am so proud of you for defending mama like that! so so proud!”

the boy grins happily and hugs his dad. satoru then raises his finger, “but you gotta know that people are weak, so we can only do this to them all the time.”

your son nods eagerly, before wiggling to the ground. he runs to you, excited to tell you about his day. you grin and listen to him happily, ignoring the crying family on the other side.

your husband kisses the top of your head before turning to the principal with a smirk, “so, principal, is there anything you would like to say?”

“I am gonna piss myself.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

you dragged sukuna to the principal’s office, after you got a call of a major incident happening involving him. your husband insisted on dismissing it, but you just had a feeling that something is seriously wrong.

you both enter the office, eyes immediately falling on your son who is sitting unbothered on the chair. meanwhile, the principal is resting his elbows on the desk and striking a pose that could only be described as trouble.

when s/n sees you two, his eyes light up, and he runs to give you—and only you—a hug. sukuna scowls, “what about me?”

“you said you don’t like my hugs,” your son huffs, averting his eyes away. sukuna stares at him for a second, before picking him up by the scruff and placing him in his arms.

the boy looks at his dad, shocked, before snuggling into his embrace.

your husband leans his head just a bit on s/n’s head. you both then direct your attention to the waiting principal.

the principal taps his fingers together, but sukuna grumbles, “are you not gonna talk?”

you stifle a giggle—which sukuna notices and you notice the slight smirk now present on his face. the principal looks up at the three of you then speaks slowly, “well, you see…”

he looks up, “your son set my car on fire.”

a few beats pass.

then your husband barks out a laugh, one so hearty that it catches everyone but you off-guard.

the principal looks incredously at sukuna. your son tilts his head in confusion, before sukuna ruffles his hair, “how did you even do that? seriously, that’s my son for you!”

the boy thrives off his dad’s praise, and they get lost in their world, as your son details how he orchestrated everything.

the principal frowns, vexed. he clears his throat to speak up, “sir, I think you might have misheard. I am saying your son—”

“did I ask you to repeat yourself?”

the tone leaves no room for discussion, and it also sends shivers down the principal’s spine. your little boy snickers, and you side-eye him, effectively shutting him up.

the principal shakes his head slowly, then he looks at you for help.

truthfully, the man has every right to be both terrified and offended cause what the hell kinda is able to set a car on fire and act so nonchalant about it? it’s the kinda kid with a dad who backs him up for it.

however, the man assumes that voice of reason is you.

you want to help, but you’re just too tired. so, you smile, “I understand that what happened is harsh, sir,” he lights up, then you continue, “but surely, you can get a new one, right?”

the man pauses and looks at you with wide eyes, before spluttering, “wha—ma’am, you can’t be serious—"

“surely, you. can. get. a. new. one. right?” you glare.

the man nods frantically.

sukuna smirks pridefully, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. he leans his face near your ear and whispers, “my kinda woman.”

you smile and wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze his hip in return. you both exchange affectionate bedroom looks, forgetting about the frightened principal.

meanwhile, s/n looks at you guys, wrorried, and murmurs, “mom, you’re scarier than dad.”

despite what he says, s/n jumps into your arms and nuzzles against your cheek. your husband rolls his eyes with no real annoyance behind them.

with all the courage left in him, the principal smiles nervously and stutters, “you—you can leave now; I sincerely and deeply apologize for the hold up.”

nobody moves an inch.

“…please leave.”

NANAMI KENTO:

you, your husband, and your daughter are now seated in the principal’s office.

you are waiting for the other kid and her parents to come in as well. you’re tapping your feet, restlessly, but kento lays his hand on your knee and rubs it gently.

he nods at you, and you smile.

you know your daughter would never fight unprovoked. said daughter gets off her chair and climbs into your lap. she hugs you tightly, and you instantly start petting her hair.

she lets a small sigh, but then the principal enters the office with the other parents in toe. you see your husband’s eyes narrow, before he leans close to d/n and asks gently, “isn’t that the girl you said was bullying your friend?”

your daughter nods intensely and whispers back, “she was about to hit her today, and you told me not to let people bully others! that’s why I hit her.”

you pat her head, and she grins. kento hums then nods, “I get that, but couldn’t you get a teacher, sweetheart?”

“the teacher would’ve taken too long!” your daughter huffs, and she is right. but, there still is a lesson that she needs to understand.

the principal clears his throat and sits in his chair. “well mr. and mrs. nanami, your daughter has inflicted pain on a friend of hers—”

“bullies aren’t my friends!”

good saying, but this probably isn’t the time. you pat her back, and she instantly understands what you mean, so she—begrudgingly—calms down.

the principal continues, “as I was saying, she hit her classmate, and as you can see, it left a bruise. such violent acts are prohibited in this respected establishment.”

“shouldn’t bullying be prohibited as well?” you ask, and the man splutters.

“that doesn’t happen—”

“i can assure you that my wife is speaking the truth,” kento backs you up, “if you would like, we can check the cameras or what the teachers say regarding the environment you’re fostering.”

your daughter’s head starts spinning from the big words.

your husband places a hand on the top of her head before resuming, “while I acknowledge that my daughter shouldn’t have been physical in defending her friend, you ought to acknowledge that what the other girl did was also unacceptable.”

“and since you want to solve the root of the problem, shouldn’t you punish the one that did the bullying and warranted my daughter to act in defense?” you press on, and the principal gulps.

the father of the girl stands up, “my princess would do no such thing—”

“your record isn’t that pretty either, so I suggest you sit down,” you say with a smile, and it does the trick. the man immediately sticks to his wife—who has said nothing, and you assume it’s because she knew what her daughter did.

everybody keeps staring at each other for a while, with your daughter having a staring contest with the other girl.

“we will deal with our daughter accordingly,” kento speaks up as he stands up, straightening his suit, “but we expect that the girl is also held accountable for her shameful actions. thank you.”

you and d/n get up, and the three of you exit the office—like icons. kento holds your hand and d/n’s, and you giggle, “did you see how they looked?”

“should you be encouraging d/n about laughing at others?” your husband asks with a small quirk of his eyebrow. you nod confidently.

“if they’re rude then yes!”

he shakes his head helplessly with a smile. then your daughter looks up to kento as you are walking and says excitedly, “dad, I won!”

your husband looks down at her then smiles gently, nodding as he gives her a thumbs up. you raise your eyebrows and gasp lowly, “hypocrisy?”

“hmm, I don’t know.”

GETO SUGURU:

your daughters hang off their dad’s back as you guys head to the principal’s office. they squeal and giggle, and suguru has an ever-permanent smile.

he is holding onto your hand gently and says, “don’t worry; I doubt that the girls actually caused damage.”

“I know, but what I am curious about is why they would get into something,” you reply, pensive, “I know my daughters very well,” you smile, and the girls grin.

they start chanting your name, clapping, and saying I love you a million times.

you open the door slowly and are met with the principal standing in front of his desk and a girl standing on top of it. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, as you all enter.

your husband wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. he tilts his head, “so, what’s wrong?”

the man drums his fingers on the desk, leaning back, “your daughters have ganged up on my daughter.”

the both of you take a moment to examine the girl from afar. there seems nothing wrong with her: no bruise, no blood, no nothing.

you exchange looks, and you take the turn to speak up, “your daughter looks okay to me.”

the man huffs and crosses his arms, “she was hurt emotionally! severely too!”

the girl nods strongly and pouts. her dad gasps and hugs her. he then starts coddling her before asking her, “what did they say to you, sugarplum?”

“they said that I looked like a mole rat, daddy!” she replies, hand on her chest as she ‘falls’ to her knees, “and—and that’s only one of the many bad things they said!”

the man gasps yet again and starts comforting her.

you and your husband let out a snort, barely containing your laughter. the girls puff their chest in confidence. you and suguru look at each other with a poorly hidden grin, and you get caught.

the man fumes, “you’re laughing at my dear sweet princess sugar?!”

“no, we are laughing at the insult,” you reply.

“it’s quite creative,” suguru chuckles before turning to the girls who have long let go of him. he kneels down and asks them, “why did you guys do that?”

“she pulled my hair!” one of the twins spoke.

the other chimes in, “and she made fun of me.”

“oh.”

just from that word alone, you can tell which path your husband is gonna take in continuing this conversation. you have a half a mind to make him summon rainbow dragon to take you home.

you just wanted to know the reason, and suguru is probably never going to leave it at that. forget how ‘calm’ he usually is, his family should never be insulted.

“…see, this why you’re all a bunch of monkeys.”

“monkeys!!” the twins scream in unison.

this time both the principal and the daughter gasp incredulously. your secretly a diva of a husband carries your girls then holds your hand before exiting the office.

he walks in silence, and you quirk an eyebrow, “so, what are you going to do, mister ‘filthy monkeys’?”

“I have a feeling that you’re making fun of me, honey.”

“and that feeling would be right.”

the girls settle on his shoulders, freeing his arms, and he takes the chance to tickle you. you squeal, “suguru, stop! I am serious! not in public!”

“but you’re being mean, sweetheart,” he mock pouts, “such bad things you’re saying.”

your roll your eyes, and you guys continue on your merry way back home.

that event passed by like a breeze, but for some reason, the school has been appointed a new principal because the last one went missing.

I wonder why.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

“relax, ma,” your husband says as he rubs your shoulder in hopes of comforting you, “the kid is surely fine; he is our son after all.”

“I know, toji! but what if he did get hurt?” you fret then scowl, “I swear to god, if they harm a single hair on megumi’s head, I will make them wish they were never born!”

toji smirks lightly and ruffles your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before opening the door. he sees megumi sat, arms crossed and frowning.

involuntary, toji lets out a sigh of relief, and you waste no time in going to your son and checking on him, bombarding him with questions.

“did you get hurt?”

“no.”

“did he hurt you?”

“no.”

“are you okay?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, mom, I am fine,” megumi murmurs, cheeks heating up at your affection. toji chuckles at the display before looking at the principal.

the man purses his lips before sighing, “your son has beaten up jay.”

you and your husband blink silently. then your husband tilts his head, “who?”

the principal grits his teeth before standing up. he crosses his arms before huffing, “jay, the son of the town’s mayor! that boy is as important as his father, yet your son has so brazenly hurt him!”

you frown, “I don’t care who he is, and I am sure that my son won’t hit somebody for no reason!”

megumi nods, and you smile at him.

you pat his hair gently, and he reluctantly leans into the affection. meanwhile, toji has been listening silently before turning to megumi and asking, “who the hell is that?”

“the one with the sea slug hair,” he replies instantly. you let out a hum of recognition.

your husband stares blankly before he clicks his finger, “oh,” he then looks at megumi and ruffles his hair with a small grin, “I hated that kid’s dad—good job.”

megumi lets out a small smile before giving his dad a thumbs up. you roll your eyes with no real annoyance behind them and side-eye toji.

toji chuckles then looks at the fuming principal. the man, now red in the face, yells, “mr fushiguro, that is unacceptable behavior from both you and your son!”

“…okay?”

you shake your head and usher megumi out of the room. you and toji share a look, before you close the door. the moment it clicks, your husband turns to the principal with a blank face.

he takes a few steps, stopping right in front of the man. toji grabs the principal’s shoulder then speaks lowly, “you won’t speak of this, ‘kay?”

he nods frantically, face contorting as he tries to compose himself. toji smirks and heads to the door with a small wave, “see ya never, teach.”

your husband finds you and megumi in the school’s garden.

he sees megumi and yuuji—his friend—playing together, while you relax on the bench. for some reason, toji feels a wave of warmth flood his chest as when he sees you and megumi smiling.

yuuji yells something to you that makes you laugh heartily. toji feels himself relax and smile just slightly. it’s moments like these he feels ever so grateful to have you in his life.

and he swears to forever protect you and megumi. he has acknowledged a long time ago that his only wish is to be by your side.

that’s why, in no time, he is behind you, effectively blocking the sun. you look up from where you’re sat to your husband.

“hey pretty,” he hums.

you chuckle as he rests his elbows on the bench, “slain?”

he grins, “slain.”

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[banj0possum]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

[fyoggo]

sorry to get into your reblogs like the little freak that i am but i also read that the german localization was supervised by yuriko nagata and differs from the other translations bc of it... so in german ignis is even more adamant... shouting, "he's suffered enough! the cost is too high! i will never allow for noct to sacrifice his life for us! i will do everything i can to change his fate!"

(lt. "Er hat genug gelitten! Der Preis ist zu hoch! Ich werde es niemals zulassen, das Noct sein Leben für uns opfert! Ich werde alles tun um sein Schicksal zu ändern!")

and if you pair that with the game's main theme of like... unavoidable destiny and prophecies that all come true, and knowing that all characters are highly aware of these things, including ignis, i think it makes his devotion even more powerful

and if that's not enough, then later when noctis finds him he questions that destiny itself (the gods that they serve as well) he says "why was i picked by some fate? why does it keep taking my loved ones from me? i'm not letting some 'destiny' steal anyone else from me", ultimately later replacing the 10 years later line in english that says "stand tall, friends" with "remember, friends, we choose our own fate"

love and devotion and friendship that transcends duty and destiny and all of that yknow how it is...

it's always "i love you" but never "this world means nothing to me, do with it as you wish. but i refuse to let noct sacrifice his life to save ours. i won’t let you take him away."

[buckyalpine]

You know what I was thinking of all day? Comforting our sad baby Bucky who just wants a hug. He's tired from a bad mission. His body aches. He saw things he didn't want to. He could really just use something.

Even just a smile?

He doesn't have a lot of friends and most people around the compound outside of the team avoid him. Even those who'd worked with him for ages were still wary, scared he'd snap if they just asked how he's doing. He would have liked it, even just a hello in passing. When he walks by with a scowl on his face, no one meets his eye. If they did, they would have seen the storm that was brewing inside was not an angry one.

He just needed to be held.

When he continues to make his way towards his room, he's given a few nods from a couple of teammates but he knows they're doing it while holding their breath. He reaches his room and the damn is about to break, he hasn't been held in years, he feels so cold and empty, was he really so terrifying, no one would-

"Sergeant Barnes?"

A gentle voice calls for him, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. He knows that voice, mustering his best smile as he turns around to find Tony's lab assistant with a cup of chamomile tea in his mug and a file with the mission report he was supposed to fill out.

"Everyone's filling their reports in the conference room, I figured you'd rather have some privacy so I thought I'd bring it to you" You give him the same warm smile you grace everyone with, handing him the steaming cup, "and of course, your favourite"

It's too much. Normally it wouldn't be but he's never given such kindness but he always gets it from you. You're so unbelievably affectionate to everyone and he really doesn't feel worthy but today he needs it so he graciously accepts the tea and file with a soft thank you.

"and call me Bucky, doll"

You stiffen at the slight crack in his voice, frowning when he keeps his eyes trained to the floor. It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep to himself but you catch his reddened nose and glassy baby blues and it breaks your heart.

He opens the door to enter his room ready to drown in a lonely storm when that voice calls again. Surely he was dreaming. He sets down his things, turning to find you still at his door.

"Bucky?" You enter his room, standing before him when he doesn't ask you to leave, "Are you okay?"

He doesn't trust himself, nodding and desperately blinking back tears. He wished you'd leave, he wished you'd stay, he wished he could just tell you what he needed, his hands fisted into balls by his side, he should just suck it up, what was he expecting-

"Come here" You whisper, your hand coming to cradle the back of his head, bringing it to rest into your neck where he can let go, your arms wrapping around his body.

Bucky doesn't get a chance to realize what's happening because as soon as he feels your touch the first sob escapes. He's hidden himself away in your hold, his tears wetting your skin with no remorse. He clings onto you like a lifeline while you coo and comfort him, playing with his hair and rubbing his back.

You don't let go, allowing him to cry for as long as he needs. Even after his cries turn into sniffles, you comfort him, pressing a kiss to his temple while he holds you extra tight.

When he's finally ready to let go, albeit reluctantly, he's instantly shused from trying to apologize. You don't ask questions asking what happened or why he was upset. It really didn't matter. You just knew. Bucky whispers a thank you, making a mental note to get you some flowers to properly showed you how much he appreciated it.

Of course you'd always just know when he needed it so he'd thank you again with coffee.

Dinner.

Dinner again.

Eventually, a ring.

You always knew what he needed.

A hug.

That was all.

[alaia777]

jacked and kind?

ೃ༄ barou;

you giggled while you set your phone on the drawer in your room, you don’t know how you managed to convince your boyfriend to do this trend with you, but you did.

“alright, all you just have to do is pick me up and put me on your shoulder.”

“whatever.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

suddenly, you’re lifted off the ground and put on his shoulder. you start to laugh, not because of the situation, but because he’s flexing his muscles in front of the camera. you put your hands on his hair and tug a little. “you’re so corny. stop flexing, who are you trying to impress?”

the next second, you’re thrown onto the bed, and he’s leaving the room, mumbling something about how a king never tries to impress anyone.

ೃ༄ bachira;

“pleaseeeee. i promise i won’t drop you.”

“bachira, no. you’re 5’9. i know for sure you’re going to drop me.”

your boyfriend was trying to convince you to do this tiktok trend he saw. you trusted him, but the last time you tried one of his ideas, you found out he’d been using your toothbrush. you didn’t speak to him for days after that.

“i’m going to stay in front of the bed so, in case something happens, you’ll fall on something soft.”

you sigh, already regretting this, and move in front of him so he can do this stupid thing.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you feel his hands grab your hips as he slowly lifts you onto his shoulder. you cling to him tightly, silently promising that if you’re going down, he’s coming with you. when you catch his reflection in his phone, you can’t help but smile—his expression is so adorable, so focused.

until you feel him slowly backing away.

you squint in confusion as you see him shift his weight.

“what are y—”

before you can finish your sentence, you realize exactly what he’s about to do.

ೃ༄ shidou;

you watch as your boyfriend struggles to prop his phone up, grumbling under his breath. “stupid piece of—”

“no cursing, ryusei.”

he mumbles something about not telling him what to do, and honestly, you’d snap back at him, but considering he just woke you up to do some random trend he saw on his phone, you let it slide.

“alright, stop making faces and look at the camera.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

before you have time to process that thought, he hoists you up onto his shoulder like you weigh nothing. grinning like an idiot, he spins around, showing off different angles to the camera.

when the video finally ends, you wait for him to put you down. but, of course, he has other plans.

“ryusei, what are you doing now?”

he strides toward the kitchen, still carrying you effortlessly. “you’re going to watch me make a sandwich. ratatouille style.”

ೃ༄ rin;

“this is stupid.”

“you are stupid. shut up and do what i just told you.”

rin couldn’t believe he agreed to do some brainless trend like this. one second, he was watching a football match on tv, and the next, he was standing in front of your phone’s camera, looking unimpressed.

“what if i decide to just drop you?”

“then you’ll be sleeping outside in your car.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

for a moment, he didn’t move at all, like he was genuinely refusing to take part in your trend. but just as you turned around to give him a piece of your mind, he scooped you off the ground and threw you over his shoulder. he was so stiff you almost felt bad for making him do it, but when the video ended, he surprised you—his hand gently caressed your knee, and he leaned into you.

“don’t post it.”

ೃ༄ isagi;

you were laughing so hard your sides were hurting. isagi looked like he was on the verge of tears, all because, during this trend, you accidentally hit him in the crotch with your sole, making him lose his balance.

“stop laughing, i could’ve hurt you.”

“isagi, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to.”

“you know, this apology would’ve been better if you weren’t laughing like that.”

you wanted to go and hug him, but he seemed more focused on restarting the video. it was clear he really wanted to get this one right.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you sat up straight, waiting for him to pick you up again. and that’s exactly what he did. this time, he made sure your legs were far from his crotch as he lifted you onto his shoulder. when the video ended, he gently lowered you into his arms, holding you close and murmuring how much he appreciated you.

ೃ༄ i hope you guys like this one :’)

ೃ༄ also, my requests are open so please let me know if you guys have any suggestions !

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141 (pt. 4)

You thought it was a mistake when someone called in reserving a party of 14 for a birthday. The voice on the other line assures you it is not, and that they'll be arriving at 7pm. You inform everyone.

"Who wid want a birthday in this shithole?"

Johnny gaffaued, spraying down some dishes.

"Probably just a prank call."

Kyle replied, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulders. But it wasn't a prank call. The first half of the party arrive and you and Gaz have to scramble to push tables together. It's overwhelming, everyone is talking all at once, demanding things left and right. Gaz swoops in to help deal with one half the table while you the other. The food comes out, leaving you to be able to sit in the back for a few minutes, talking to the guys about nothing. Walking back out, some older man was snapping his fingers at you, waving his arms as if they weren't the only fucking people in the joint.

"Steaks burnt to hell, remake it."

He slides the plate to you, making you catch it before it falls off the side of the table. You apologize profusely and send it back to the kitchen. Price raises an eyebrow,

"Looks fine to me."

He stares at the piece of charcoal on the plate.

"Fucks sake, lemme do it."

Simon grabs his shoulder and cooks another steak. You set it down infront of the old man, watching him take a bite. He throws his fork down,

"Still burnt. How hard is it to cook a fucking steak?"

You look at the plate, meats still pink in the middle. Apologize again and offer to remake it.

"No, don't bother. Jesus."

He stares daggers into you. You wring your hands nervously.

"Actually, everyone's food was shit. None of us should have to pay for this."

Your mouth goes dry. You look over your shoulder to meet eyes with Kyle at the bar. He immediately walks over.

"Everything alright?"

He puts on his nicest customer service voice and that charming smile that can melt anyone. Except this asshole apparently.

"No everything is not alright, this was the worst dining experience I've ever had! Everything came out wrong, and it all tastes like shit!"

Spit flies out from the mans mouth. Kyle stands between you and the customer, trying to diffuse the situation. And much to your horror, one by one, the table starts to leave. You try to say something but they ignore you.

"Go get Johnny."

You run back, trying to act casual in front of Simon and John while tugging Johnny by the sleeve. He looks down, concerned.

He's on the floor before you can finish telling him what happened,

"Ye'r gonnae have tae pay sir."

His tone is more firm than Gaz, arms crossed and looking down at the old man. You're almost in tears as you watch more of the table file out the door, you turn back to look at Gaz. He frowns, furious. There's a heated argument at the table, the old man is yelling now. Not at Kyle or Johnny, but the only person he wasn't afraid of; you. The commotion makes John and Simon step out. This idiot is gonna get himself killed. You can see the moment when the customer loses the fight in his eyes. Shuts right up as soon as Simon says,

"Problem?"

Like a fish out of water, all the old man does is open and close his mouth wordlessly.

"Grab the cheque."

You don't know who Simon said that to but you and Soap crash into each other turning around and walking to the POS system. Ghost gently grabs the bill from your shaky hands and shoves it into the customers chest,

"Cash only."

"I don't have cash."

"There's an ATM around the corner."

The old man nearly jumps out of his seat,

"Right. Be right back."

He rushes to the door, Kyle and John follow.

"Oh there's no need-"

"Making sure you don't get lost."

Kyle smiles, eyes dangerous. It's about five minutes when they're back, the old man placing some 20s down before complaining under his breath. Then he gets kicked out,

"I need my change!"

He looks over Johnny's shoulder, looking to you for help. You shrug, arms crossed. When the door closes you sigh, running fingers through your hair

"You alright, darling?"

Gaz asks, voice as sweet as ever, gentle hand on your face. You nod.

~

That evening was pleasant. More than that really. They pampered you, cooed and soothed you as you huffed and sniffled. Ran you a hot bath,

"Poor thing, dinnae deserve tha."

Johnny massaged shampoo into your hair.

"Won't let you stay around next time we deal with something like that again."

Kyle kneaded the tension out your shoulders. John sat you in his lap, brushing hair out of your face while saying sweet nothings. You really do enjoy milking this for all it's worth, sad eyes looking up and huffing like you didn't get over that bullshit as soon as that old man walked out the door.

"Pampered little princess, you know that?"

Simon's lips are pressed up to your neck, just under your ear. You just nod, his words rattling around your brain while you got fucked senseless. You're tired, but the boys promised to coax an orgasm out of you. From each one of them. Then another. Well, you're a trooper, so what's one more round? Showered with soft kisses and praise, a foolish smile is painted across your face in a pleasurable state of stupor; Gosh, aren't you just spoiled rotten?

**sorry if it's short! I am on holiday ( ╥ω╥ )**