#but if someone wants to unnecessarily interrupt that

[malbecmusings]

You think violence is the answer to violence?

If someone decides to disturb my peace to alleviate their internal chaos and lack of emotional control?

Yes. Yes I do.

[deebris]

From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.

[belxveds]

Could you write a fic where the reader is Stark’s daughter and he catches her and Peter fooling around in her room/main room whilst they think he is out?

caught in a web of kisses

pairings: peter parker x f!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader

brief: (requested!) misunderstandings and compromising situations with peter lead to a whole of cackling and screaming throughout the stark tower compound. a brief look into the life of y/n stark and your struggles with your stupidly overprotective dad and chaotically cute boyfriend.

tags: humour. fluff. borderline crack fic. "enemies" to lover. established relationship.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i appreciate it :) it always makes fills me with so much joy to know someone seeks out my writing <3

requests are open!

wc: 1.4k

Perhaps it wasn't your smartest idea to pretend to absolutely despise your father's intern in front of your parents and the Avengers but . . . well- how could you possibly resist yourself when it was so much fun sharing sneaky, mischievous smiles with Peter as you both shot teasing glares across the room to maintain your appearance as rivals?

Plus, it was just a little prank to keep your relationship with Peter, as well as the days spent at the compound, more interesting. If anything, you and Peter were single handedly entertaining the entirety of Avengers with your debates and arguments. You were fairly sure they had bets going on about the two of you. It was harmless, really.

And it wasn't like you were going to keep it from them forever! You would tell them . . . eventually. You just- hadn't thought anyone would find out like this. With you and Peter in such a . . . compromising situation?

You almost let out a small groan of exhaustion as you sunk into the unnecessarily large couch your dad had purchased for the lounge, melting into Peter's side as you fiddled with the remote to lower the lights and dim the windows. Pouting at the sliver of light that still managed to peek through the sunroof, you let out the smallest huff as you closed that as well before turning to take a glance at your boyfriend.

He let out a small yawn before shifting with your attention on him, cuddling into you tighter as he murmured, "You sure no one will be back for another 2 hours? 'Cause I swear if we get caught because you wanted to take a nap on the couch, I will never let you live this down."

Snuggling deeper into the blanket you'd draped over the two of you, you couldn't help but let out the smallest breathless laugh as you responded, "That's if they don't kill you first."

"Hey!" Peter quipped, voice growing the tiniest bit slurred as the nap you promised him began to look awfully tempting, "I'll have you know that I think your dad and also everyone else is quite fond of me, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a snort as you mocked, pretending to push up fake glasses on the bridge of your nose as you raised the pitch of your voice, "I'll have you know-"

The gentle whack you got on your arm made you stop mid-sentence as you giggled, answering your boyfriend more seriously, "Everyone's schedule says they have stuff going on until at least 6:00, unless they were all just to magically-"

"What happened to, "God dad, if I have to see your stupid intern's face one more time, you're going to have to hold me back from stealing your repulsors and pulverizing the shit out of him?""

You're entire body pauses as you feel Peter tense in your arms, the both of you wincing in sync as you slowly, cautiously, turn your head around to face your dad, voice dragging out as you say nervously, "Uhm...so you see-".

Peter's bewilderment is audible as his head snaps to you, eyes furrowed in confused amusement as he hisses, "Why the fuck are you starting to quote Dhar Mann right now?"

"Peter", your dad interrupts, tone much too pleasant for the situation at hand and consequently sending both your spines into automatically locking up straight as you await his next move, fight or flight instincts activated, "You have 3 seconds to run."

"Mr. Stark, we can talk about this-"

"3 . . ."

"Oh shit!", your boyfriend scrambles, legs tangling into themselves and the blanket in his attempts to get free and run as he presses a ragged kiss to your forehead while declaring muffled through his panicked breath, "If I don't make it out of this alive, just know I wanted you to have my babies and be Y/N Parker-Stark."

The confession sends a surprised wheeze to rack through your body as you see him begin to take down the hallway, sparing a glance over his shoulder at you and your dad before maneuvering himself onto the ceiling and into the vents.

Your eyes tearing up from laughter, you try to speak through your immobilizing giggles as you address your dad, "Dad, father dearest, please- come on- spare him-" "2 . . ." "Dad! C'mon- you have to admit . . . from a completely scientific and objective lens with zero romantic emotions taken into account, considering all the teenage boys out there, Peter is definitely one of the better choices", you tried to level, summoning the critically-acclaimed award winning Y/N Stark inside of you and not the moderately concerned girlfriend worried that her boyfriend's cause of death may in fact be the same repulsors Peter had helped your father tweak in the lab earlier today. How unfortunately ironic. Shuffling over, albeit a bit awkwardly, to where your dad stood, you cautiously peered closer at his profile, trying your best to assess exactly how much trouble you were in. You knew deep down, he truly wasn't all that upset, though, maybe a bit grumpy about having been kept out of the loop for this long. In fact, you were positively confident he was quite happy with who you had chosen. Despite all of his teasing and successfully accomplished fatherly duties of bullying the both of you, it was stupidly evident how much he cared for Peter like a son. Not just anyone was allowed to intern for the Tony Stark, after all.

Lost in thought, you couldn't help but yelp slightly and flinch into your father's side as a muffled voice echoed down from the ceiling, cooing, "Aww Y/N, you really mean that?"

Cursing at your boyfriend's surprising lack of self preservation skills taking into consideration his literal job and particular set of talents, you glared upwards. Hoping your disappointment at his lack of distance somehow radiated through the insulated plaster, you deadpanned, "No, I was just playing. I wish I'd gotten with Harley."

"What?!" squeaked Peter, like a little vent rat, his offended gasp echoing in time with your dad's final countdown.

Giggling once again at Peter's frightened scuttling at the realization that he was out of time, you quickly reached to grip at your dad's suit clad bicep before he could make a motion to call at the Iron Man suit, your voice taking on a more serious tone as you asked softly, his opinion and approval still highly valuable to you, "You're ok with me and Peter dating though? Genuinely?"

The twitch of his signature smirk on the corner of his lips and the nodding glint in his eyes sent a happy thrill through your heart, instinctively grinning wide as you squealed and rushed to give him a tight hug, speaking through a stifled smile into his chest, "Ok, you have my consent to go squish my little spider now. Please don't bring him back to me flattened or burnt- I quite like how he is now." Your father's wrinkled nose and vocal sound of disgust at how you'd addressed his intern sent you into another fit of laughter as he spoke, "Ground rules since I know the kid's out of his freaky super-hearing range. One, ew. Never address him like that again, I might vomit. Two, if I see the two of you touch, I am immediately invoking a 50 year social-distancing ban between the two of you. 6 feet and everything. I'll throw in permanent masks if I ever catch you two kissing. Three, . . . no promises."

"In response- One, . . . no promises. Two, you don't want spider grandbabies crawling up the walls? All I'm hearing is that we can't get caught. Three, I'll tell mom", you grinned pulling back, your gaze filled with amusement and the look of humoured adoration you often had reserved specifically for your dad as he let out a little whine in complaint at your threat of telling Pepper.

It would just be a little rough up. You know, the classic "hurt my daughter and you're dead" speech. And Peter was Spider-Man! He'd be fine . . . probably.

mailbox ༶•┈ peter parker's mailbox! ┈•༶ send letter

[ultravioletbrit]

“jealous” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 465 words

“mistletoe kiss” - 25 Days of Jegumas - Day 21 - @noblehouseofgay

Regulus is standing on one side of the common room leaning against the wall with a drink in his hand talking to Barty and Evan. He’s talking to Barty and Evan, but he’s making eye contact with James Potter.

James Potter, who’s standing on the other side of the common room presumably having a conversation with his friends, but his eyes haven’t left Regulus’ all night.

That is, until a girl Regulus doesn’t know walks over and puts her hand on James’ forearm. It takes James a moment, but he does eventually break eye contact with Regulus to look at the girl with long brown hair and an unnecessarily tight top.

Regulus isn’t prepared for the wave of jealously that washes over him. He has no reason to be jealous, they were just looking at each other. He’s jealous because James Potter stopped looking at him? He shakes his head to clear those thoughts from his mind and pushes off the wall.

“I’m getting another drink.” He mumbles, already walking away.

He refills his drink, but he’s not ready to go back to his friends yet, so he finds a secluded corner where he can take a minute to clear his mind. A minute is pretty much all he gets before he’s interrupted.  

“Hey.”

Of course, James Potter would find him when he’s trying to clear his mind of James Potter.

“Hi.” Regulus says and they fall into an awkward silence.

“She wanted a mistletoe kiss.” James breaks the silence after a moment.

“Who?” Regulus feigns ignorance.

“The girl. Her friends dared her to ask, I guess.” James says nervously.

“Good for her.” Regulus snarks and pushes off the wall to walk away.

“I said ‘no’.” James blocks his path. Regulus instinctively looks up and James is already looking down and they instantly make eye contact. “There’s someone else I want to have a mistletoe kiss with.” James whispers, taking a small step forward.

“Good for them.” Regulus whispers back, never breaking eye contact.

James slowly takes another step forward and Regulus still doesn’t break eye contact even when he notices James’ arm moving.

“Good for you.” James whispers even softer than before.

Regulus gives him a curious look and James breaks their eye contact to look up slightly. Regulus follows his movement and sees James holding mistletoe over their heads.   

Regulus huffs a small laugh and looks back at James. They hold eye contact for just a moment before James raises a questioning eyebrow. Regulus narrows his eyes and bites his cheek to try and hide his smile. He lets out another small chuckle as he steps forward to close the last distance between them.

“Put your arm down, idiot.” Regulus whispers as he pushes up on his toes. James doesn’t put his arm down until their lips meet under the mistletoe.

[princessbrunette]

okay random thought, but ik you mentioned that kitty’s older sister briefly dated barry. so kitty and rafe probably met through barry im assuming? like one day kitty’s and her sister are over at barry’s and rafe walks in and kitty’s probably tryna convince herself he’s just a smug asshole 😒💔

🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚

you’d only tagged along to get out the house for a little while, too cooped up — and there’s only so many tarot readings a girl can give herself before she gets bored. the lovers, four of wands — you’re going to meet someone soon! whatever.

your sister is smoking with barry out on the porch and you’re exiting your sisters boyfriends bathroom when you hear a semi-familiar voice. you try and be sneaky about it, something you can usually get away with — notorious for creeping up on people and slinking about undetected, and yet as you casually stroll the kitchen, peering out the patio doors you lock eyes with rafe cameron, stuffing his hands into his pockets. his eyes jump all across you as he attempts to identify you.

barry is rattling off about something to him, complaining about rafe overcharging unnecessarily and shooing off customers when the kook interrupts him, waving a hand as his eyes follow your form through the house, seeing you in that black mini skirt reaching up to get a glass from the cabinet. “yeah, yeah-yeah look shut up a sec. who’s that in the kitchen?” he drawls, and if your sister wasn’t so high she’d have been quicker to snap at him.

“nah, nah you’re not gonna go botherin’ that lil ass girl rafe. you’ here on business, act like it.” barry dismisses, putting his joint out in a half empty beer can and listening to it sizzle. your older sister lifts her head from the couch, frowning in disorientation at the sandy blonde.

“i didn’t say shit, okay — i just wanted to know who she is.” rafe defends irritably, ripping his eyes off you to blink at barry, wiping clammy hands down his shorts. not even a second passes before he asks another question. “how uh— how old is she anyway?”

“old enough for a real man, aka — not you.” your sister pushes her hands into the worn down patio seat and forces herself to her feet. “on that note we’re getting out of here. gonna get food.” she has the decency to alert barry of her plans for once, turning her head to watch you enter the patio with a nearly empty glass in your hand, looking a little wide eyed and curious as you swallow down your drink. you set it on the table, furrowing your eyebrows at barry.

people always thought you were fiesty, but compared to your sister you always seemed pretty meek and inoffensive.

“you finished the joint already?” you huff in a whiny tone, directed mostly towards your sisters boyfriend who lazily shrugs and gestures at your sister — pinning the blame. rafe huffs out an awkward chuckle, making his presence known and holding a hand out to you to shake.

“hey uh, i don’t think we’ve met — rafe cameron.” he introduces in that rich boy drawl. curiosity gets the better of you, and you slowly reach out to shake his hand only for your sister to smack your wrist away from his.

“c’mon. i’m hungry. don’t waste your time on him.” she rolls her red eyes, swaying her hips as she sashays off the patio somewhat elegantly for someone wearing chunky stompers.

you grab his hand before he can pull it away, muttering something along the lines of “i can shake his hand if i want to.” before rushing off to follow her without a glance behind you. rafe doesn’t miss certain things about you; the way your skirt has ridden up your ass cheeks a little as you bounce away, the slight brattiness in your tone that he couldn’t help but wanna correct, and the way his smirk lingered, only to warrant a long stare from barry.

“whatever you thinkin’ bro i suggest you don’t.”

“shit, i can’t just look at her? m’not doing anything.” rafe smiles simply, going to sit down opposite his friend on the patio seats. something about his tone made barry believe the opposite.

🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚

[help-itrappedmyself]

Crimes and Punishments Part 1: Ra's

Masterpost

There’s a phone on a special shelf in the Batcave near the Batcomputer. This particular phone has been set aside as Emergency Only since an incident involving Bruce’s sons a few months ago. No one has touched it since. 

The entire situation was full of way too many unknown variables for Bruce’s liking. He spent a lot of time unnecessarily stressed about that phone. But it never rang, and they never used it. Until one day, when a loud ringing could be heard throughout the Batcave.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and started looking around. There was a specific moment, when everyone realized which phone was ringing. A moment of stillness. Then they all rushed for it at once. None of the boys wanted someone the caller had never met to pick up, but Bruce was curious, and he was fast. Nightwing however, was also fast and a lot closer. 

“Hello?” Nightwing asked as he answered the call. Everyone else quickly gathered around him, and as upset that Bruce was that he wasn’t on the phone, everyone understood not to interrupt.

“Bats?” Danny responded carefully.

“This is Nightwing.”

“Oh, Nightwing. Good to hear from you, hope you’re doing well. Unfortunately, this is a business call regarding the information I was given by Red Robin and Robin when you were here. Are they available for follow up?”

“I’ll put you on speaker.” Nightwing gave Bruce a look, trying to ward off any interrogations and put the call on speaker. “Everyone is here.”

“Hi, everyone!” Danny called out cheerfully. "Red Robin and Robin, you remember when you were in my realm you gave me some information about illegal activity that I had to follow up on, as well as the locations to check out?”

They both responded in the affirmative.

“Wonderful, I wanted to let you know that the situation has been taken care of.” Danny’s voice turns very official. “As of now, my teams have cleared all known locations of the illegal substance to avoid any more contamination. In the matter of one Ra’s Al Ghul, on the basis of knowingly, purposefully, and repeatedly storing and using the illegal contraband, he has been sentenced to imprisonment in the Nightmare Dimension. Once his sentence has been served, he will be released and will be able to make a home in one of my realms if he so chooses. However, we have determined that he will be unable to return to his original dimension, as the damage he has made to your world has already been too great. Now, speaking of the damage to your world."

“As it turns out, your dimension has had a great many interdimensional leaks, the amount of which I also had to look into.” Danny sounds tired and annoyed now. “A specialist of mine, Clockwork, has informed me of a great many breaches made by a small group of people. He is pushing for a very harsh sentence, your citizens have caused him a great deal of trouble and repeatedly broken the law in regards to his domain. I need to look into this further and was hoping to receive some assistance in organizing a meeting with these people, in order to determine fault, and possible repercussions or sentencing depending on the severity of their crimes.”

There is a pause, and no one says anything for a short moment as they hear Danny take a breath.

“I am unsure of the necessary authorities I should speak to regarding people of your world breaking the laws of mine.” Danny sounds so tired.

“We can help.” Red Robin spoke. “Do you know who these people are and where they are located?”

“Not exactly. They are in America, a few different places, but they can and do travel. Are you familiar with the speedsters on your planet? There should be three of them.”

They exchange looks. “Yes we are familiar. We can set up a meeting with them.”

[bloodywankers]

Trigger Warning! Implied Non-con! Forced Relationship! Yandere Husband!

Unedited | 1.26k Words

Andre was always rational, never unnecessarily cruel or emotional. That was the worst part about him, he was cold, left you feeling touch starved and alone even in his embrace. He was strict, he wouldn’t tolerate deviation from his routine or attempts to ruin the perfect image he had built for you but he wasn’t cruel. At the end of the day it felt like you only had yourself to blame for your misfortune. He wouldn’t criticise you for no reason but that meant that the instances where he did, he was probably right. He wouldn’t scream or yell but in turn left you feeling like a disobedient child.

His affection left much to be desired but you blame yourself for it rather than him, because Andre was perfect. He always remembered anniversaries and birthdays, never letting you want for anything but you had always felt so alone. There was an emptiness that he couldn’t fill no matter what he did because Andre was an actor.

Nothing about Andre was genuine because a character with no flaws is no character at all. He seemed above your childish tantrums and far too sophisticated to enjoy simpler things, lived in a world that was perfectly tailor made for him. But you weren’t Andre, you weren’t logical, or perfect, your acting was subpar at best and you didn’t fit into his world. You were emotional and living in his cold world devoid of any warmth was not something you could tolerate so despite every well planned argument he placed in front of you, you stood your ground.

“I want a divorce.” You tried your best to keep a firm tone, you were sure he would take advantage of any hesitation that you showed.

“Darling, as I’ve said already, I—.” He spoke softly, as always, interrupting you with his finely built arguments, ones that you were sure would work in any other situation. Arguments that you could reason with if you had not been as fed up as you were, filled with unadulterated hatred for the man you were supposed to love. This time you were set on getting what you wanted, you were sick of feeling like this.

“I don’t care for whatever bullshit reason you have this time, I feel miserable every day I spend with you!” You probably could have gone through with this in a more elegant manner but you were at your limit. Andre had always been rational but you couldn’t understand him this time. You were sure he wouldn’t have trouble remarrying someone better, it’s not like you lived in the Middle Ages where divorce meant your life was over. It probably wouldn’t affect his image much. So why was he so hell-bent on keeping you stuck in a relationship where both of you would be miserable?

You expected another well balanced counter argument, maybe a comment about how foul your behaviour was, how unbecoming it was. But instead he stood there, a look you had never seen before and a scowl that seemed so out of place compared to his usual poker face. You instinctively sunk into yourself, trying to avoid what you thought was his attempt at reaching for you, what for you? You didn’t want to find out. But instead he walked past you, stormed out despite still maintaining his obnoxiously elegant posture.

You thought it would blow over, that he would come back and pretend nothing happened, he didn’t seem like the type to acknowledge such arguments. But he didn’t return at his usual time, and instead you found all the exits to your house locked and your set of keys missing.

When your husband did return, he didn’t go to your shared bedroom as usual, instead went straight for his office, you just barely caught him. Slamming the door to his study shut before you said anything else.

“What the hell is your problem?! Where are my keys?! If you’re going to act like this at least let me leave!”

”You will do no such thing.” That’s it. No reason, no explanation as to why he decided on this, just a singular order. You had started to back up, this was unlike Andre. The atmosphere in the room had changed.

“And why is that? Who do you think you are to decide for me?!”

Andre himself didn’t understand. The logical thing, the right thing to do would be to let you go quietly, to not put up a fuss and part ways. He didn’t have any love in him when he chose you as his marriage partner (before you had ever officially met him), you were just the right choice, at the right place, at the right time and with the right background. It wasn’t him who was drawn to you out of all other potential candidates, you were just the best choice. He has a good memory, that’s why he remembered your birthday, and your wedding anniversary. It would look bad if he didn’t buy you the best present money could buy.

Sharing a bed was necessary for any married couple, not because he searched for your warmth, desperately clinging to it every night, whether intentionally or not.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his nose bridge, brows furrowed as he came to the realisation. Love? He had come to love you? Has he always felt this way? For someone who boasted a memory as excellent as his, he couldn’t remember when it started. But there was no denying what this was, it was love, an obsessive love that ate at his insides every moment he kept trying to contain it.

If he told you that, you would understand, wouldn’t you? You’d forgive his past sorry attempts at being a good husband and give him a chance to prove himself, wouldn’t you? After all, you’ve always been understanding, despite your recent outbursts, you would try to understand him.

“Darling, let’s try to calm down.” That’s not what he wanted to say, he wanted to say he loved you, to scream it until his voice gave out but it wouldn’t come out, this in turn only irked you more. You looked ready to leave, too annoyed to even continue talking to him. He couldn’t have that, he’d beg if you wanted so please don’t leave.

Well, if he couldn’t tell you, he’d show you. After all, actions speak louder than words. So he grabbed your wrist before you could drift further from him and dragged you to your shared bedroom, ignoring all cries and protests from you. He made sure to lock the door behind him, you looked like you were ready to bolt out the door the moment he let go of you.

“You-! What are you doing, unlock the door now!” However, your protests seem to fall on deaf ears once more.

“You asked why I wouldn’t let you go? I’ll show you why.”

Andre had never been unreasonable or cruel but that night you realised he was as flawed as anyone else, as dirty as any other and as cruel as he could want to be. You realise how much you miss his distant and unfamiliar self, before you got to know him in so many different ways.

How unfamiliar he looked to you as he kissed you in places he didn’t dare to touch before, as his smile resembled that of a madman and his eyes reflected pure euphoria.

Your husband had always been unreasonable and cruel, you just never knew.

Masterlist

[pitchsidestories]

akward and desperate for love II Lena Oberdorf x Lioness!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1005

a/n: hi everyone, the oneshot is inspired by this request here, let us hear your thoughts on it. ❤️

You hated the initiation ceremonies at Bayern Munich.

It had nothing to do with the club. You loved it here. You adored the city, the familiarity of the club and of course your teammates.

But the initiation ceremony filled you with dread and nervousness on behalf of all the new players. Even now, two years after your own initiation, the thought of singing in front of your new teammates made your skin prickle with embarrassment.

At least as an established member of the team, you had the privilege to just sit back and watch. Which was easier said than done, considering that your girlfriend had just joined the team and would have to face the same fate as everyone else.

In contrast to you, she seemed very relaxed about it. Not relaxed, you suddenly realized. She was drunk.

You leaned over to Georgia who sat across from you at the table: “G, why is Lena tipsy? I thought the beers all had no alcohol.“

Your fellow England teammate made a face as if you had just asked her the worlds’ dumbest question before she finally answered: “You really thought they were okay with non-alcoholic?”

She nodded into the direction of your German teammates. Many of them enjoyed their occasional beer but in all your time here, you had never seemed to get into it.

“But they’re all labeled as… Wait, what mischief are you two up to again?”, you interrupted yourself, turning to Georgia and Lea who tried to hide a giggle behind her hand.

“Nothing.“, the only other lioness in the team grinned innocently.

“Lies. They refiled them with alcoholic beer.“, Sydney blurted out, clearly also a few drinks in.

“Shhh.“, Georgia tried to silence her.

Simultaneously, you felt Leas elbow knocking hard against yours. Excitedly she pointed towards the stage: “Y/n! It’s Obis’ turn to sing now!”

“Children, the lot of you!”, you playfully scolded your teammates before turning to Lea.

Your heart dropped for a moment and your eyebrows knitted together as you watched your girlfriend take the stage. You felt unnecessarily nervous for her.

“Oh god…“, you whispered.

She seemed completely unfazed, flashing her typical confident smile at the team.

Georgia yelled: “What are you going to sing?!”

“Before I start to sing, I want to say a few words first. The past weeks have been really hard because of my injury…“, she started, fully ignoring Georgia. You could tell from the redness of her cheeks that she wasn’t sober anymore and you silently prayed that no one would notice that she paused for way too long already.

“Yeah, tell us, Lena!”, Georgia once again shouted from her seat, prompting her to go on.

“And I couldn’t have done this without my wunderbaren Freundin and Lea. I might’ve lost against her in the Euros final, messed up the tackle, but won after sliding in her dms. Luckily, she agreed to meeting me privately afterwards. This song is dedicated to y/n.”, Lena continued grinning.  

With closed eyes you went back to the time two years ago. It has been the perfect weather for your home tournament in England.

The fan excitement grew over the weeks, your teammates and you have never experienced something huge like this before, your lives forever changed by that summer in 2022. Lena and you both were even younger than now, both hungry and felt like you got something to prove.

 In the final the playing style of the German annoyed you to no end, the midfielder was reckless on the pitch and her challenges against opponents was ruthless. You could never imagine falling for someone like Lena despite her big beautiful brown eyes and loud but very kissable looking mouth.

She turned out to be a different person off the pitch. The young player who was your age was funny, charming and kind. Even a bit shy because you were her first big romantic relationship which you couldn’t believe at first because Lena was so lovable once you got to know her.

“Glad I was mentioned too.”, Leas laugh brought you back to the present.

“Lea, you know that you’re her platonic soulmate, right?”, you replied warmly.

“I appreciate that, but she loves you way more.”, the blonde declared winking.

“I hope the song is over soon, everyone’s staring at us.”, your voice slightly muffled against the fabric of the striker’s sweater in which you hid your burning cheeks.

“Don’t worry, they’re actually staring at her.”, Lea tried to comfort you in a reassuring tone.

“I hope so.”, you muttered under your breath.

Later in the safety of your hotel room you glared accusingly at your girlfriend. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. In front of the whole team!”

“Why? That was fun.”, Lena frowned.

“It was embarrassing.”, you sighed.

“Was it?”, she chuckled amusedly.

“Yes, for me, you know that I worked hard for the place I’ve in this team..”, you started.

“And?”, the German interrupted you smiling sheepishly.

“You don’t feel guilty at all, huh?”, you realized.

“Nope.”, Lena replied letting herself fall on to the bed arms wide open.

“You’re terrible.”, you shook her head before following her on to it.

“You think so?”, the brunette looked alarmed.

“No, not really, I’m just joking. Promise.”, you quickly added when you noticed her concerned face.

Sometimes you both got lost in translation her English wasn’t the best and your German basically non existing.

 “I do hope so.”, she answered sincerely.

“To be honest, I’ve never been this fiercely loved before.”, you admitted.

“You better get used to it.”, Lena said, kissing you, before pulling you into a hug.

“I’ll. Good night.”, you promised. A glance at the clock let you know that it was already past midnight, and you were having training early in the morning.

“What do you mean good night?”, the midfielder gasped.

“It’s late or isn’t it overdorf yet?”, you teased her.

“It’s never overdorf.”, Lena replied cheekily before showing you that the night wasn’t over it had only begun.

[deezee112]

The child Doll

Chapter 2

Yandere!Twisted Wonderland x GN!Reader

A/N : I got inspired by @kansetsu001 on Twitter while I was reading the pictures he used to draw. I got this idea. But this is just something I thought of for fun. I hope you like my little idea.

Warning : This story contains themes of psychological tension , unease , an unsettling relationship dynamic between a protagonist and a mysterious humanoid object , y/n is a hot-tempered and tall person.

English is not my first language.

you sighed, pinching the bridge of you nose as the clock ticked past 6:00 PM. The office, dimly lit and mostly deserted, hummed faintly with the sound of ancient computers and the distant clicking of a few remaining coworkers' keyboards. You leaned back in you chair, you frown deepening.

Four years working under Dire Crowley had conditioned you to expect little in the way of fairness and less in the way of sanity. He was a man who thrived on chaos, throwing his subordinates into bizarre, ill-defined projects while swooping in at the last minute to claim the credit—or shift the blame.

" Y/N, can you come to my office? " his voice crackled over the intercom, interrupting you train of thought.

you rolled you eyes, muttering, "What now?" before dragging youself to you feet. you tall, imposing figure and perpetually frowning face had earned you a reputation as someone you didn’t mess with. Yet, despite you intimidating demeanor, you prided herself on efficiency and pragmatism—qualities Crowley never seemed to value.

The walk to his office felt unnecessarily long. you wasn’t in the mood for whatever nonsense he’d concocted this time, but you curiosity was piqued when you noticed the odd stillness in the air. Normally, Crowley’s office was a hub of noise—papers rustling, phones ringing, his voice booming with unwarranted confidence. Today, it was eerily quiet.

Pushing open the door, you found Crowley seated at his desk, a smug smile plastered across his face. Beside him stood a large, ornate box.

“ Ah, Y/N! My most reliable employee! ” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

You raised an eyebrow. “ What’s this about? ”

Crowley gestured theatrically toward the box. “ I have a very special task for you. One that requires someone of your… unique disposition. ”

You crossed her arms. “ Get to the point, Crowley. ”

His smile widened as he lifted the lid of the box, revealing what appeared to be a doll. But it wasn’t like any doll you had ever seen. It was life-sized, with eerily realistic features—soft skin, glassy eyes that seemed to follow you every movement, and hair that looked and felt disturbingly real.

“ What the hell is that? ” you asked, you with suspicion.

“ This, my dear Y/N, is a revolutionary creation! A child doll unlike any other. It’s capable of eating, sleeping, and reacting just like a real human child. And you, lucky you, have been chosen to take care of it! ”

You stared at him, incredulous. “ You’ve got to be kidding me. ”

“ I assure you, this is no joke. It’s an important project! Top secret! And who better to handle it than my most dedicated employee? ”

“ Dedicated or expendable? ” you shot back.

Crowley chuckled nervously. “ Oh, don’t be so dramatic. This is a marvelous opportunity! Think of it as…..fostering innovation! ”

You narrowed her eyes at him. “ What’s the catch? ”

“ No catch! Well, apart from the fact that you’ll need to keep this little one with you at all times. It’s crucial for the experiment, you see. ”

You pinched the bridge of you nose again, you patience wearing thin. “ Let me get this straight. You want me to take care of this creepy, overly realistic doll— ”

“ child doll ” he corrected.

“ Whatever. You want me to play house with this thing, and you think that’s a normal, reasonable request? ”

Crowley waved dismissively. “ Oh, Y/N, don’t be so cold-hearted. Think of it as a new challenge! You’re always saying you want to expand your skill set. ”

“ I’ve never said that ” you deadpanned.

But Crowley wasn’t listening. He was already bustling around, preparing to hand over the doll. “ Now, its name is—well, it doesn’t have one yet! You can name it whatever you like. It’s designed to adapt to its caretaker’s habits and preferences. Isn’t that fascinating? ”

You stared at the doll. Its eyes seemed to glimmer with an unsettling awareness. you didn’t trust it or Crowley but you knew arguing was pointless. He’d either guilt you into accepting or find a way to dump the task on you regardless.

“ And if I refuse? ” you asked, crossing arms.

Crowley’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “ Oh, Y/N you wouldn’t leave poor little me in a bind, would you? This is a once-in-a-lifetime project! Think of the company’s reputation! and Think of your reputation! ”

You sighed heavily. “ Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I don’t want to hear you whining about it later. ”

“ Splendid! ” Crowley beamed, practically shoving the doll into you arms. “ Now, take good care of it. I’ll check in periodically to see how things are going. ”

You scowled but didn’t bother arguing further. You glanced down at the doll cradled awkwardly in you arms. It was heavier than you expected, and its skin felt disturbingly warm to the touch.

“ This is going to be a nightmare ” you muttered under you breath as you left Crowley’s office.

Back at your apartment, you set the doll down on you couch, glaring at it as if it were responsible for your predicament. You barely had time to process the absurdity of you new task before you phone buzzed with a message from Crowley.

Don’t forget! It needs to be fed, bathed, and put to bed on a strict schedule. Oh, and don’t let anyone else see it! Confidentiality is key!

You're groaned, tossing you phone onto the coffee table. “ Great. Just what I needed parenting advice from a man who can’t even manage an office. ”

The doll sat eerily still, its glassy eyes fixed on you. Despite you frustration, You couldn’t shake the feeling that it was watching you.

Shaking you head, you grabbed a blanket and threw it over the doll. “ Out of sight, out of mind. ”

But as the night wore on, you found youself glancing at the covered figure more often than you cared to admit. Something about it unnerved you, though you couldn’t quite put you finger on why. ( She's just a little tsundere🥺 )

When you finally crawled into bed, exhaustion tugging at you, you muttered to youself, “ It’s just a doll. No big deal. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to deal with this mess. ”

But deep down, you knew this wasn’t going to be as simple as Crowley had made it sound.

You woke to the faint sound of something rustling in the living room. You froze, Had you left a window open? Was it a burglar?

You Grabbing a heavy book from you nightstand, you crept toward the noise, you heart pounding.

When you entered the living room, you stopped dead in you tracks. The blanket Your thrown over the doll was on the floor, and the doll itself was sitting upright, its head tilted slightly as if observing You.

You grip tightened on the book. “ Okay, that’s creepy. Did Crowley install some kind of remote control in you? ”

The doll didn’t respond, of course, but its lifelike appearance made you unease grow.

You approached cautiously, picking up the blanket and draping it over the doll again. “ You stay put. I don’t have time for your nonsense. ”

As you turned to make coffee, you phone buzzed again. Another message from Crowley.

Don’t forget to check its morning routine! It’s designed to respond to kindness and care.

You scoffed, pouring youself a mug of coffee. “ Kindness and care, my ass. He just wants me to babysit his creepy science experiment. ”

But as the minutes passed, you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that you should at least check on the doll. Begrudgingly, you set your mug down and returned to the living room.

“ All right, let’s get this over with. ”

You lifted the blanket again, half expecting the doll to have moved. To you relief and mild disappointment it was exactly where you left it.

Still, as you looked into its unnervingly realistic eyes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far stranger than Your signed up for.

[hunterwritings]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 | 𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍

summary: bi-han is only compliant with you, and you are the last one to realise it | gn!reader x bi-han, childhood friend! reader, flirty and joking! reader warnings: kinda suggestive at the end (?) notes: FINALLY WRITING SOMETHING AGAIN HALLELUJAH | this is very self-indulgent lol

Bi-han was not someone who enjoyed physical touch. Or any affection for that matter.

At least that's what everyone believed, considering how unwelcoming he was to everyone else. If it was talking about kombat, now that was different.

It was something first noticed by his brothers, Kuai Liang and Tomas. They would go to put their hand on his shoulder or pat him on the back and he would swat them away while muttering cold insults. They brushed it off, knowing that Bi-han had acted that way with everyone.

Until you came into the picture.

You had known the Lin Kuei brothers since you were young. You had trained with them, fought with them and grown with them since you were all children. You loved all of them, but something about Bi-han drew you in. How he was so cold and unimpressed with you and your jokes, it made you want to wittingly mess with him even more. You would always walk by his side, taunt him to the point of him wanting to throw a punch at you. You would never do anything to make him uncomfortable, just enough to see him roll his eyes at you and push your face away with his palm.

As you grew with him, some things changed with Bi-han. Your comical and witty nature stayed active throughout time and, in your eyes at least, Bi-han had the same attitude from when he was a child.

But he was different.

It was something people around you two noticed first. How instead of ignoring your witty jokes, he would critique them and say how you could do better than that. How instead of scooting away from you when you would sit unnecessarily close to him on the couch, he would let you sit inches away from him, even lying your head on his shoulder as you listened to him talk about battle plans. How instead of leaving you on the ground after he beats you in sparring, he would offer his hand to you with the same irritated look on his face.

You guess that it's never been something you thought of until Kuai Liang had spoken to you.

"Bi-han has never been so close to someone." He shakes his head with a smirk.

"I guess I never looked into it." You chuckled.

"Then it is clear to everyone except for you. I would not be surprised if he thought about proposing to you."

You nearly chocked on your own breath. "Proposing? That's moving a bit fast don't you think?"

"Well, I suppose that's what Bi-han does." He smiles. "He moves in black and white, it is all or nothing for him. And when he learns to accept his feelings for you, he will make a move before anyone else does."

"How do I know this isn't just some hunch you have?" You crossed your arms and jokingly raised an eyebrow at him. He chuckled.

"I've known Bi-han my entire life and he has never been so compliant with someone, I am certain." He says.

You were a bit dumbstruck by his blunt words. Your love for Bi-han was obvious to everyone else, you wanted to make it obvious as you grew more jokingly flirty with him as time went on. As you began to look at things in retrospect, you notice how Bi-han had been more lenient with you throughout time. Oh my gods, have you been so blind this whole time? Has Bi-han tried to subtly tell you how he felt throughout his actions? Now you were overthinking.

You wanted to speak with Bi-han and see if you could get him to admit something to you. You sought him out throughout the temple, stopping when you found him in an empty training room, using a stick to practice his attacks. He halted his movements the second he saw you enter the room.

"Sorry to interrupt." You chuckle as you walk closer to him. He just raised an eyebrow at you as you approached.

"Is it something you want?' He asks, you now standing in front of him.

"Perhaps."

"Well get on with it." He says as he continues his training movements as you walked around him and pressed your back against the wall.

"I've just been thinking a lot."

"That's new." He wittingly jokes, causing a laugh to emit from your lips. A smirk appeared on his face at the sound of your laughter, that caught your eye.

"You think you're very funny, but that's my job." You smile. "Bi-han." The sound of his name from your lips caused him to stop his fighting movements. He went to turn towards you, but you quickly wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your chest to his sweaty back. You felt his cold hand press against yours wrapped around his torso. "I really enjoy being around you." You softly admitted.

Bi-han felt like his heart stopped, when in reality it was beating quite fast from what you could feel. Bi-han was used to quick and small touches from you in a joking flirty sense, but he could tell that you were trying your best to be serious. He never thought that your feelings for him would go anything past platonic.

He pulls your hands off of him so he can turn and face you. Your face was different from your usual relaxed, this time your eyebrows contorting in anxiousness, wondering if you had just ruined your relationship with him. Bi-han was a bit dumbfounded, wondering how to continue this conversation. So he took a chance.

He leaned into you and pressed his lips gently against yours. He quickly pulled away, only a few inches to scan your face and wonder if he made a mistake. When he feels your hands on his cheeks, he immediately drops the stick in his hand, hearing the wood hit the floor as he reached his arms low and grabs a hold of your legs and picks you up as his lips stay on yours. You feel your back hit the wall as his cold hands stayed on your thighs, gripping tightly.

You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, your eyes darting to every detail of his face.

"How long have you been wanting to do that?' You chuckle, pressing your forehead against his. You could practically feel his eyes roll back in his head. "Shut up." He shakes his head before his lips are on yours once again.

Bi-han is a very serious man, he takes things in his life very seriously. Even before you had told him how you felt, he would go to the ends of the earth to protect you and keep you safe. Now that you were officially his, not only would he be even more protective of you, he would boast about it to everyone around him. He would let everyone know that you chose him and it would feel like the greatest achievement of all time to him. Whether it be from the sounds people would hear through the walls at night or how he now walks with your arm wrapped around his bicep, he will make sure everyone knows that you're his.

And Kuai Liang wasn't wrong, within a few weeks of your confessions, Bi-han brought up the idea of proposal to you. How could you deny the grumpy grandmaster himself?

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Love “Shield of Silence” ❤️❤️ What about this time around Hotch need the rescue and they're in a relationship? Add anything you want. Tag me later. Thanks!! :)))

Title: "Tables Turned"

Part two for "shield of Silence"

(Aaron hotchnerr x fem!reader)

It had been a long case, the kind that seemed to stretch on forever with no clear answers. You and the team had been in Denver for almost a week now, chasing leads that seemed to go nowhere. Exhaustion clung to every agent like a second skin, and tempers were fraying at the edges. Still, you had a job to do, and as always, Aaron Hotchner was at the helm, holding everything together with his calm authority.

The only problem? Chief Jenny Montgomery.

From the moment you and Hotch had arrived at the local precinct, you could feel the Chief’s eyes lingering on him. At first, it was subtle—a little too much eye contact, a smile that lasted just a fraction longer than necessary. You didn’t think much of it, chalking it up to her trying to be friendly. But as the days wore on, her attention became impossible to ignore. She was practically hovering over Hotch at every opportunity, leaning in too close, her hand grazing his arm under the guise of handing him files. It was infuriating.

What made it worse was that Hotch, ever the professional, remained oblivious—or at least, he pretended to be. It was one of the things you loved most about him: his ability to keep his cool under pressure, always staying focused on the case. But this? This was testing your limits.

You’d been dating Aaron for nearly six months now. It had started slow, after that moment in the conference room when he confessed his feelings for you. But what you had was real, and it was strong. You’d been through a lot together, and the rest of the team knew about the relationship. They’d accepted it, even supported it—after all, they knew better than anyone how much Aaron needed someone to lean on after everything he’d been through.

But Jenny Montgomery didn’t seem to care. And you were not in the mood to play nice.

It was the third time that day that she’d sidled up to Hotch during a meeting, her body language screaming interest. You were across the room with Spencer and Rossi, trying to keep your attention on the case file in front of you, but your eyes kept drifting back to the two of them. Every time she laughed—loudly, unnecessarily—you felt your grip on your pen tighten.

Spencer glanced up at you, clearly noticing your growing tension. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered through gritted teeth, not taking your eyes off the pair. Hotch was standing there, arms crossed, looking as stoic as ever while Chief Montgomery laughed at something he’d said. But you knew him too well. You saw the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flickered with discomfort. He wasn’t enjoying this any more than you were.

You stood abruptly, unable to take it any longer. “Excuse me.”

You didn’t storm over—that wasn’t your style. But your footsteps were firm, your body language making it clear that you were not to be trifled with.

“—and I was just telling Agent Hotchner that we have this great little spot in town if he wanted to join me for—”

“That won’t be necessary,” you interrupted, your voice calm but laced with a steel edge. “Agent Hotchner already has plans.”

Montgomery’s eyes flickered with surprise, but she quickly recovered, giving you a tight smile. “Oh? I wasn’t aware.”

You smiled back, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “You are now.”

The tension in the room thickened, but you didn’t care. You weren’t going to stand by and let this woman flirt with your boyfriend right in front of you. Hotch shifted beside you, his lips twitching as if he was trying to suppress a smile. He hadn’t said a word, but you could tell he was enjoying this—probably far more than he should.

Montgomery’s smile faltered. “Well, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just thought—”

“You’ve been ‘just thinking’ all week,” you said, your voice still deceptively calm. “But let me make something clear: Aaron is taken. He’s with me. So, whatever little lunch date you had planned? Cancel it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel eyes on you—from your team, from the officers nearby. You didn’t care. Chief Montgomery stood frozen for a moment, clearly not used to being spoken to like that. She stammered something under her breath and walked away, her face flushed with embarrassment.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a long breath, the adrenaline coursing through you. You half expected Hotch to give you a stern look, to remind you about professionalism and keeping your cool.

But instead, he laughed.

It started as a small chuckle, then grew into full-blown laughter—the kind that had him clutching his stomach, gasping for air as he tried and failed to compose himself. His face turned red, and the sound echoed through the precinct, drawing even more eyes in your direction.

You stared at him in disbelief. “Aaron, are you—”

He shook his head, still laughing too hard to speak. His laughter was so out of character that the entire team was gaping at him like he’d lost his mind. Even Spencer looked confused, his brows furrowed as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.

“Hotch?” Morgan ventured, his voice laced with amusement. “You good, man?”

Hotch wiped tears from his eyes, finally managing to catch his breath. “I’m fine,” he gasped, his voice still thick with laughter. “I just—oh, God—I’ve never seen you like that, Y/N. You—” He dissolved into laughter again, leaning against the nearest desk for support.

You couldn’t help but smile, even as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Hotch looked at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Y/N, that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen anyone shut someone down like that.”

“I wasn’t going to stand there and let her flirt with you.”

“Clearly,” he said, still grinning. “And for the record, I would’ve turned her down myself if you hadn’t beaten me to it.”

You folded your arms, trying to hide your own amusement. “You didn’t exactly seem in a hurry to stop her.”

Hotch stepped closer, his smile softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t need to. I knew you’d handle it.”

His touch sent a wave of warmth through you, and suddenly, the tension you’d been carrying all week melted away. “Next time, maybe I’ll let you handle it.”

He chuckled, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Deal.”

As he leaned in to kiss you, you heard Morgan’s voice in the background. “Okay, seriously, Hotch, what the hell just happened?”

You pulled back from the kiss, glancing over at the team. They were all staring, clearly still in shock at what had just transpired. Rossi had an amused smile on his face, and even JJ was shaking her head in disbelief.

“Long story,” you said with a grin. “But trust me, it was worth it.”

As you turned back to Hotch, you saw the love in his eyes—so much deeper than words could ever express. And you knew, without a doubt, that whatever challenges came your way, you and Aaron would face them together.

And if anyone ever crossed the line again, well… they’d better be ready for round two.

@pear-1206

[gilbirda]

I'm just a simple guard, man

Part 6 of my Danny is an Arkham Security Guard AU (og tumblr post)

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

There was silence and tension as they watched Batman go through the motions, tying up the unmoving but awake Joker and moving him to somewhere closer to the entrance. Joker was surprisingly responsive and lucid, just mellowed and obedient. Somehow it made it better — if he was a vegetable Jason knew Batman wouldn’t let that go until Danny undid what he had done.

Danny.

The Ghost King.

Jason didn’t know exactly what that meant. Heck, until today he didn’t know that ghosts were kind of a thing. Mythical creatures, he could buy. Apparitions, imprints of conscience that were unavenged — that he could buy too. But a Ghost King implied an organized society with status and a legal organization. A power structure.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that.”

He turned towards the doctor well aware his face showed every emotion.

“The fuck?”

“Did that really happen?” Duke was trying to keep calm, but his eyes were wide open and his hands slightly trembling.

“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“But—”

“How the heck—”

“ — how did he do that —”

“ — did he set him on fire!”

“ — and is he even human?”

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

Duke glanced at Alfred, unsure what to make of that statement. He quietly stood up, getting ready to intervene in case Jason decided to get violent; but Alfred held him back with a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Again, he deserves it.”

Tired of craning her neck to look up at him, Jazz stepped back. “He deserves the judgment of the people he’d hurt in the past — something my brother and I can promise you will happen.” Given what they saw in the camera feeds, nobody doubted the siblings could ensure it. “But I’m not going to tolerate that my patient spends his last years alive being unnecessarily abused.”

“I told you—”

“What do you think,” she interrupted Jason, her gaze cold and her body tense, “will happen if someone dies full of rage? If in their last moments they wish they could enact vengeance on those that harmed them?” She narrowed her eyes, knowing her words were hitting something in him. “What do you think will happen to the Joker’s soul if he’s abused and tortured at Arkham, and probably killed, after he crosses the Veil?”

“I—”

“A huge pain in the ass, it’s what will happen.”

The tense silence could be cut with a knife. Duke couldn’t understand how Jazz not only managed to stare down the six foot something tank that Jason was, but she also commanded the attention and respect. He was a newcomer to the place and he had done more than enough crazy stuff during his time in a gang; but he still struggled with openly challenging Jason and Cass. And Tim, but that was when the vigilante fell into his weird mumbling-in-the-dark episodes.

“I’m taking you there.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the garage section of the cave. Jazz yanked her arm free and stopped to cross her arms.

“I can walk on my own.”

Jason bristled, opened his mouth to continue their fight, but apparently that was when Alfred had enough.

“If you want to get there in time,” his voice was neutral, controlled, and his face wore his signature arched eyebrow, “I'd recommend leaving right now.”

His tone was final.

Jazz and Jason looked at each other, frozen under the certified Alfred glare. They nodded and walked quickly towards where Jason’s signature red bike was parked.

***

Arkham Asylum was a mess when the duo arrived — police cars flooded the entrance, and the Batmobile stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the red and blue lights flashing around.

Jazz cursed under her breath. She would have preferred to not turn the situation into a circus.

They managed to walk through the sea of cops and civilians looking in the compound from the metal gates. Funny enough, the few guards blocking the way didn’t move to stop them once both glared at them at the same time.

Jazz made a beeline at the Director chatting animatedly with Batman. Black Bat was standing a bit back with Red Robin, probably discussing what just happened with Danny, but the Arkham doctor didn’t care about them.

“I demand I see my patient.” Jazz didn’t beat around the bush.

The Director blinked and slowly looked away from Batman, as if he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to interrupt this moment. “Miss Fenton—”

“Doctor.” She corrected him.

The man cleared his throat, throwing a nervous glance at the silent Dark Knight.

“Doctor Fenton,” the word was spit like it was a curse, “your shift doesn’t start until eight.”

“But the Joker is my patient and I know he’s in there.” She gestured at the looming Asylum with her hand. “After such a traumatic event I need to see him.”

Someone coughed a laugh behind the Director. At least the man had the decency of hiding a smile.

“The Joker is not going anywhere, Miss— Doctor.” He added when she glared at him. “You can schedule a session tomorrow. That is, if your patient is up for conversation.” With that, the man deemed their conversation over and turned back to Batman. “Once again, thank you so much, Batman. I’m not going to ask how you did it this time, but we will certainly appreciate the results.”

Jason was as happy as everyone else that Joker wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but the way this bastard was treating Jasmine was outright criminal. He squared up for a fight and tried to step forward, but a cold hand on his forearm stopped him. Jazz moved her eyebrows up and her eyes went over his body before she looked back towards the police. Several new vehicles joined the party — all the Gotham news channels were here to record the event.

And he wasn’t wearing his suit. Right.

He nodded and remained where he was, but made a gesture towards where the Director was waxing poetry about how good Batman was for their city and how much the city owed him.

Do you want me to beat him up for you? He wanted to ask.

Jazz chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. She shook her head and patted his arm a few times.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “but not today.”

He didn’t know how serious she was. This was the same person who pulled a gun at Red Hood and five seconds later forced him into a therapy session. The same lunatic that was excited about having the whole bat flock in her apartment so she could question them.

For the first time since the alarm sounded about Joker’s escape, Jason let himself relax a little bit. Jazz was crazy enough to take on Arkham’s finest and leave victorious.

“Director Kallwick,” her voice was pure steel, “I’m afraid it’s imperative I see my patient after such a traumatic—”

“I think there’s something you are not understanding, Miss Fenton.”

“And what is it?” She crossed her arms.

The Director raised an eyebrow, now fully facing her. It didn’t escape Jason how the man squared his shoulders to look bigger and overpower Jazz. He had seen that behavior way too many times, in many different situations — and he didn’t like it when men like the Director used it against people that couldn't fight back, specially women.

He glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge how much the old man would flip if he intervened anyway. He trusted Jazz, but he really didn’t like the Director right now.

“I’m positive that after today’s… development,” he smiled, “things at Arkham will definitely change. For the best, of course.” He raised an eyebrow. “Starting with streamlining our staff and making sure we count on experienced doctors to treat the patients that really need it.”

Was he implying…?

Jazz hummed, regarding the man with as much contempt as she allowed herself to show. “I know you don’t like me, Mr. Kallwick. You never did. I know you hired me because you needed cannon fodder to sacrifice and keep the Joker entertained.” She smiled. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. And I know men like you — weak, scared, and cowardly.”

“Hey there young—”

“I know you’d rather let your staff die than develop better and healthier outlets for patient’s destructive tendencies.” She lifted a hand and walked closer, poking the man’s chest. “I know that you look the other way when guards and doctors mentally and physically abuse inmates because you actually think they deserve it.” She poked him again.

“I don’t—” He went to grab her hand.

She moved away from him so quickly and so smoothly that it looked like a dance step.

She smiled. It wasn’t nice. “And I know all about what you’ve been doing with the funds and donations.”

Even in the middle of the noise from the crowd at the gates, you could hear the man loudly swallow.

“I know about the embezzling and the bribes and the interesting filing mistakes and convenient registration mishaps, Mr. Kallwick.” Her eyes slowly turned greener. It was subtle, but you could see that her usual teal color suddenly looked greener than blue. A trick of the lights, you could think, but the bats knew better. “I know you don’t care how or why the Joker is unresponsive, but I do; and if you want me to stay in my lane I highly recommend you stay in yours.”

The man processed her words, the thoughts clear in his eyes. He was probably thinking how she could have found out, or who told her, or how was he going to silence her better.

Jason saw the switch to the later thought as clear as day.

Bruce saw it too.

Before the man said or did anything else, the tall and quiet shadow of Batman placed himself behind Jazz, one hand on her shoulder as an obvious sign of his support. The other two bats placed themselves on the sides of the Arkham doctor, arms crossed, looking down at the man who was realizing too late the mistake he made.

***

“Are you still mad?”

“Hm.”

“You sound like the old man.”

Jazz glared at him, violently stabbing her ice cream cup and breaking her plastic spoon.

“You may need to deal with those anger issues. Have you thought about going to therapy?” He said with a bright smile.

She stood up, not caring about attracting attention. Who was going to pay attention to them, Jason didn’t know. It was way early in the morning — or late at night, it depends on how you see it — and Jazz had demanded they go to the closest ice cream place that was open.

Luckily he knew a place, because of course only in Gotham someone would be crazy enough to have an ice cream shop open at this hour.

“Some vigilantes, and some rogues, really like ice cream. It is an untapped market.” The man running the place said when asked, shrugging like it was obvious.

Jazz sat back down, now with a new spoon, and continued eating her sweet monstrosity of layered chocolate and dulce de leche.

“If you are this mad I highly recommend you take it with Bruce. I’m sure he will be very understanding and accept your feedback.”

She kicked him in the shins, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm.

“Whatever you say, mister Daddy Issues.”

It was his turn to kick her, but she was expecting the movement and moved away before he made contact. She smirked, taking another bite of her ice cream with a smug smile on her face.

God, he hated older siblings and their knowing smiles.

He prepared to kick her again..

“Don’t even try,” a new voice said, the person taking the empty chair on their little table. “Jazz is like a ninja when she really wants to.”

Jason wanted to differ and explain he had trained with literal ninjas, but the speed at which she whipped a gun on him not that long ago came to his mind. Was it a liminal thing? Or a Jasmine thing? Maybe a Fenton thing?

“Hey.”

“Hey back at you.” Danny sighed, taking Jazz’s ice cream cup and biting directly from the top layer. “That bad, huh?”

Jason bit his simple chocolate cone, watching the siblings talk.

“She’s mad because B scary dog privileged his way into making the Arkham Director submit and it undermined Jazz’s authority. She did a neat speech and everything.” He shook his head. “All wasted.”

She huffed and stole her ice cream back. “I didn’t need his support.”

“I know you don’t.” Danny glanced at Jason. “But it’s better if you have Batman’s backup, yes?”

Jazz ignored him.

Jason took the chance to look at Danny, trying to find anything that was different about the young man. He still had the scene back with Joker burned in his mind.

King of the Ghosts.

He would have never guessed, given the scrawny and sleep deprived raccoon of a man sitting next to him. He was still wearing the same shirt and under the fluorescent lights of the ice cream shop, it was easier to see the scars on his arms and hands — and the ones peeking from under his collar.

“Spit it out.”

“Huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You have questions. Ask.”

“I don’t—” He tried to deny it, but thought better about it. Jason bit his ice cream and cleared his throat. “I want to ask about —”

“Of course you want to ask about what happened.”

A soft thump! came from under the table, and given Danny’s glare at Jazz then she probably kicked him for the sass.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why are you being so forthcoming?”

“I’m feeling charitable today.” Another kick from under the table. “Ok, ok! No need for violence.” He sighed. “Jazz’s right. This is not my territory. If we want to stay, we have to play nice with you guys.”

The way he said it, and the way he made a face when he said it, told Jason that Danny was really struggling with trusting the bats with the information. Trust issues he could understand — one wasn’t in their line of work without being betrayed or hurt enough to warrant these issues.

No. It was something deeper.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

There were many questions burning in his mind and he didn’t know how long they had. “Why… Gotham? Why Arkham? Why a guard?”

“You just wasted your time man. You already know the answer for that.” He pointed at his sister, who nodded in agreement. “I followed her.”

“And I came here because I was interested in the rogues.” She added, licking her spoon clean.

Jason shook his head. “I meant — why is the King of the Ghosts… just… here?” He lowered his voice, glancing at the ice cream man. The man was half asleep on the counter and clearly not listening. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Danny responded with a dry laugh. “I have no interest in being the king of anything.”

“But?”

He looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable.

Jason glanced at Jazz, but she was glaring at the table.

“What happened?” He poked the siblings, trying to be soft. It was obviously a touchy subject, and whatever happened was painful enough that they’ve been avoiding any mention of their past before Gotham like the plague.

“It was… It happened a few years ago. I defeated the previous Ghost King, but nothing happened for a while. I thought… I thought things had calmed down since ghosts stopped attacking my town so often. And then, after I graduated highschool, the Observants started harassing me about taking the throne.”

“Did they hurt you?” Jason didn’t know what these “Observants” were, but he could guess from context.

Danny shook his head, stealing Jazz’s ice cream again. “They were fucking annoying, but they couldn’t touch me. As the Prince, I was technically their superior and untouchable.” He bit the cold treat and chewed. Somehow Jason wasn’t surprised Danny never got a brain freeze. “It was a few more years of avoiding them and trying to keep peace in town, as well as trying to get to know the Infinite Realms.” He chuckled again. “I even considered, for a moment, that being King wasn’t even that bad.

“It was a pretty normal day when it happened. I went to the mall with my friends. Sam, she — She had a fight with her parents and went there to cool down and cheer her up. The ghosts came first,” he pushed the ice cream back to his sister, and avoided Jason’s eyes, “but nothing was out of the ordinary. We fought. I defeated them. More and more kept coming, faster than I — than we could contain them.”

“I was away at college, but I later learned that it was a massive all out attack on just Danny.” Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s. “It was a coup attempt.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know that so many people were against me being King, and all that time they were planning the attack, and if I just paid a little more attention… If I wasn’t so—”

Another kick under the table. Danny cleared his throat and tried again.

“The GIW came as well. Things went from bad to worse, and by the end of the day it was an all out war between us, the ghosts doing a coup and the GIW. With our parents at the head of the attack.”

Jason frowned. “But you guys knew they worked with the GIW.”

Jazz gave him a warning look. “We knew they collaborated and consulted for them. We knew about the patent weapons.”

“But we didn’t know that they’d lead an attack on me.”

Danny did a brief pause to breathe, and stole more ice cream from his sister. She just pushed the cup towards him, apparently done with the treat.

Jason followed where the siblings were going. “They knew you’d be at the mall. That… That Phantom would be at the mall.” Danny looked up, his tired eyes confirming his thoughts. “They knew.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jazz nodded anyway. “We don’t know how long they did, but the truth is they knew about Danny. And went for him anyway.”

Minutes ticked by. Jason and Danny made quick work of their ice creams, lost in thought. Jazz checked her phone, frowned, and typed a few messages before putting it away.

“People died.”

Jason blinked at the non sequitur. Danny swallowed the last of the ice cream and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Neighbors, friends, people I knew. That day. They were fine and then they were dead.”

Guilt. It was clear as day.

“Is not your—”

“Don’t.” He cut him off. “Please.”

Jason nodded and decided to move on. “So you won the fight?”

“Barely. The ghosts were either captured by the GIW or retreated when they became outnumbered. Tucker and Sam managed to mess up with the idiots in white’s machines and weapons long enough for us to retreat. But we knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“We packed what we could and I hid at Sam’s, with the excuse that I would help her while she recovered — she broke her arm at the fight. We were a hundred percent sure if… if Jack and Maddie actually knew I was Phantom or not, but just in case.”

“I stayed. They didn’t target me so we were positive they didn’t know about me being liminal, so I stayed home.”

The vigilante frowned at Jazz. “What for?”

“Someone had to monitor them to see what they knew exactly. I also hid away any weapon they could potentially use against Danny.” She shrugged. “Not that it actually helped, because neither came back home in the weeks after the incident.”

“They were at the GIW base.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. The young man looked tired. “Because of course there was work to do with the captured ghosts.”

Jason hummed. “So they’ve been working on experimentation since then?”

Jazz shook her head. “We were telling the truth when we said they weren’t involved in that, at least not by the time we left Amity Park. Back then they were more involved in investigation on ghost containment and weapons research.”

He nodded, and turned back to Danny. “And the coup?”

The young man cursed under his breath. “Dealt with them.”

Jason waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What—”

“Listen, man.” He slapped the table and stood up. “That doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. I dealt with it. I accepted the damn crown and then told everybody to fuck off. And they have done that so far.” He breathed in, breathed out. “I’m nobody’s king, I’m just a simple guard now, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that, Danny walked away and left Jazz and Jason simmer in the tense silence. He looked at her, trying to gauge if he had said the wrong thing, but Jazz appeared apologetic.

“Before you ask — I don’t know either. Nobody does. He just… after we took down the GIW base, he took the captured ghosts back to the Realms. He came back two days later, hurt and barely coherent, and never spoke of what happened there. To anybody.” Not even me, the hurt statement was implied. “He was… changed. He didn’t say what happened but from what we could piece together it was bad, very bad.”

A myriad of possibilities crossed Jason’s mind. How bad is “very bad”? How much did Danny stir things up at the Realms that he had remained unbothered ever since? He tried to map the scars that he saw, and grimaced at the idea of two straight days of fighting after doing a raid to the GIW base.

Danny was done. With being a hero. With fighting. With trying to do the right thing.

What was even the “right thing” here? Going back to being the King of a dimension that doesn’t want him and he doesn’t want in return? Give it up, and risk someone worse taking control of so much power? Destroying the GIW? Going after their own parents?

He thought about the Joker. He asked Jazz when she was back from checking on the clown, and she willingly shared some details about his state. Jason never felt sorry for the fucker, but gained a new appreciation for Danny and his abilities.

The power to take someone’s soul and seal it inside their bodies — what else could he do? What other otherworldly and potentially devastating powers did he have at his disposal?

What else was he choosing not to face? What else was he running away from?

He stood up and followed Danny outside, finding him standing in the cold morning rain of Gotham. It wasn’t pouring, but it was easy to get soaking wet if you underestimated it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Both ignored the door when Jazz quietly followed them out of the ice cream shop.

“Good.” The younger man looked up at the gray sky, maybe looking for the sun. Water droplets fell down his face, and he welcomed them with a relieved, albeit tiny, smile. “Because I don’t have anything else to say.”

Jason rolled his eyes. What a drama queen.

He glanced at Jazz, who was shaking her head. “Whatever you say, edgelord.”

She pulled Danny to her chest for a hug, which he only protested with a tiny grumble. Jason chuckled before he was pulled in too by a surprisingly strong grip.

“If I have to suffer sisterly hugs then so do you.”

Jazz giggled but welcomed the addition to her arms, not caring that she could barely hold both of them and her arms fell short. She squeezed them harder towards her chest, humming in delight.

Great, she was a hugger. Jason really didn’t need another Grayson in his life.

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

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BACK TO DANNY PHANTOM ARCHIVE

Just a normal link in case you liked this and want to support me :)

[phoenixblaze1412]

What about Tuncer being friends with Dottore's child👀

There's another request regarding about this so I am here to bring you guys your orders

While Dottore isn’t the most affectionate parent, he’s fiercely protective of you in his own way. If anyone threatens or insults you, they’re likely to disappear—whether through reassignment, exile, or some… experimental mishap.

He watches over you more than you realize. Whether it’s installing hidden security measures in your workspace or checking your well-being after long hours, he makes sure you’re safe without drawing attention to it.

Dottore pretends not to care about your personal life, but he bristles when he notices you spending too much time with someone he doesn’t approve of—especially Teucer.

Teucer sees you as a close friend and role model, looking up to you for your intelligence and creativity. However, Dottore mistakes Teucer’s admiration and excitement for romantic interest, which immediately puts the boy on his blacklist.

Dottore occasionally interrupts your time with Teucer under the guise of “checking on your progress.” He looms over Teucer with thinly veiled suspicion, his questions about the boy’s intentions far more intense than necessary.

“And why, exactly, do you spend so much time here? Surely there are other children for you to bother.”

Teucer, oblivious to Dottore’s hostility, always responds cheerfully. “Because (Y/n) is my friend! They’re super cool!”

This only deepens Dottore’s paranoia.

Dottore pulls you aside after one of Teucer’s visits, his tone sharp but laced with an unusual concern.

“I trust you’re aware of the implications of allowing that… boy… to linger here. His presence could become a distraction.”

You roll your eyes but secretly appreciate the rare sign of paternal care, even if it’s misdirected.

During one of Teucer’s visits, Dottore casually comments, “Strange how often he finds excuses to see you. Almost.. suspicious, wouldn’t you agree?”

Teucer tilts his head, confused, while you groan in frustration.

Childe, seeing how well you get along with Teucer, starts warming up to you. He’s still wary of Dottore, but he respects you for looking out for his brother. The two of you even develop an unlikely camaraderie, teasing Teucer or sharing knowing looks when Dottore is in one of his moods.

Childe catches wind of Dottore’s behavior and storms into your lab one day, protective of both you and Teucer. The confrontation is heated, with Childe accusing Dottore of being unnecessarily hostile.

“Teucer is just a kid! Leave him alone!”

Dottore, unbothered, replies, “Children grow up. And I don’t want him growing too attached to my child.”

When you reassure Dottore that Teucer is just a friend, his tense posture softens slightly.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, Father. He’s like a brother to me.”

Dottore huffs but seems relieved, muttering something about "young fools and their infatuations" before leaving.

Despite his suspicions, Dottore begrudgingly allows Teucer to visit as long as he behaves. Secretly, he appreciates how much brighter you seem when Teucer is around, though he’d never admit it.

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss Ch.3

Warnings: Angst, Some Smut, 18+

Ch.2 Here | Ch.4 Here

***

Rhys spent the next few days doing everything to make up for the way he acted. He took you out to the fanciest restaurants in Velaris, walked you along the Sidra, flew you high into the sky. He took his time with you, slow touches and long kisses. You knew he needed to reclaim his own body, using yours to help him gain that confidence.

You were happy.

You were sitting at lunch with him, pleasantly talking and eating when he suddenly stilled. His hands gripped tightly to his cutlery, his eyes glazing over. You stood and rushed to his side, calling his name. “Rhys! Rhys? What’s wrong?” You were tugging on his arm, begging him to snap out of whatever had a hold of his mind.

His eyes shot to yours, a visible panic taking over them. “She needs me.” He said, hardly above a whisper. You couldn’t help the rush of cold that ran through your body at his words.

“Who?”, you asked calmly, already knowing the answer.

A shadow of guilt fell on his face as he responded; “Feyre.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. Rhys grabbed your hands in his, pulling you close. “I know my love, this is nothing more than helping her when she needs it. As a friend. You are the only one in heart, I promise you.” You softened at his words, leaning down and giving him a gentle kiss.

“Fine.” You said, pulling back from him. “What does she need saving from?”

He looked down, shame radiating from him. “Her wedding,” he whispered, refusing to look at you.

“I see,” you said, removing your hands from his. “And is she asking to be saved, or do you just want to ‘save’ her?” You knew you were being unnecessarily cold, but how were you supposed to feel when your husband wanted to rush off to interrupt his mates wedding?

He stood quickly, a slight anger to his form. “Enough. She is asking. Begging. Am I supposed to let a helpless female get trapped in a toxic marriage?” Rhys’ eyes were dark, looking at you in a way they never had before. You wanted to shrink down against him, to run and hide.

You chose to stand strong. “You can’t pretend you don’t know how it sounds, Rhysand.” You said coolly, crossing your arms in front of you. “If you must go, then go.” You waved dismissively, turning to leave the room. A hand on your arm stopped you.

Your husbands eyes softened, an internal war going on behind them. “It is nothing more than helping her in this moment. Nothing. I love you.” He said, hand holding tight to you. You nodded, pulling out of his grasp.

“I believe you,” you sighed, “now go save her.”

***

Rhys didn’t bring Feyre to Velaris, a fact you were glad of. Unfortunately, he chose to stay in the Moonlight Palace with her for the week she was here. You heard from Mor how their initial meeting went, snorting at Feyre throwing her shoe at him. Good. He deserved it.

A part of you felt guilty for being upset with him, knowing he was trying to help someone who was at her lowest. You knew your husband had a good heart and was a kind man. You had heard of how sickly Feyre looked, how damaged she was from what happened Under the Mountain.

The angry snake of jealousy in your heart didn’t care about any of that.

All you could focus on was your husband living in the palace with his mate. The Cauldron-Made being, just for him. Was it selfish to keep him from being with her? No, you thought, shooing that idea away. Just because they were mates did not mean they would be happy together. Look at your husbands own parents, mates sure, but happy? Perhaps not.

You tried to distract yourself with reading, falling into story after story. You spent lots of time sitting in your townhouse, waiting for your husband to come home. You heard the front door open, running to it in excitement.

You tried not to let Azriel see the disappointment on your face.

“Good morning, Az. Rhys isn’t here.” You greeted, welcoming him inside. He stepped in and nodded at your words.

“I know,” he said, “I came to check on you.” You looked up at him, stunned.

“Me? What for? I’ve just been…here.” You spoke, hating how dreadfully dull you sounded. The ever-dutiful wife of the High Lord, patiently waiting for him to return.

“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It can’t be easy knowing he’s there with her.” Your friends words were true, a sharp stab to your heart. It wasn’t easy.

“Oh, I-,” you paused, thinking over what to say. “I know he just wants to help her. They both went through a lot, down there. I would never dream of making it harder for her,” you answered politely. Truthfully, you couldn’t remain upset with Feyre. She had done nothing to you, she didn’t even know the mating bond or you existed.

Azriel shifted on his feet, not seeming to know what to say. “You’re a very good wife to him, truly. He is lucky to have you.” He finally said, giving you a small smile. You returned it with one of your own, shrugging your shoulders.

“I try to make things easier for him. Being High Lord brings lots of stress to his mind. I know you understand that too.” You replied, moving to sit in the living room. Azriel followed, making himself comfortable on the armchair. You tucked your legs underneath you on the couch, watching the fire in front of you.

“He wouldn’t hurt you.” Azriel said, breaking the silence. You looked at him, sighing at his words.

“I know he wouldn’t. Not intentionally at least.” You spoke the second part softer, embarrassed by how jealous you were of Feyre.

Sympathy flashed across Azriel’s face, a look you could’ve gone without. “He just wants to help her. None of us were down there-,” he began to say, cut off by your sharp voice.

“I know that, Azriel. You think I don’t remind myself of that a hundred times a day? That I have no reason to be jealous of a girl who was tortured and killed, when I have been his wife for 150 years? I know it is selfish and irrational to be so upset about him helping her, but I can’t stop.” You buried your face in your ands. “I can’t stop.” You whispered, hot tears flowing down your face.

You felt the cushion next to you sink down and a strong arm wrap around your shoulders. You melted into Azriel’s hold, letting all the conflicting emotions take over. He held you close, his other hand holding onto your arm, rubbing soothing circles over it. You cried until you fell asleep, comfortable in the safety of Azriel’s embrace.

***

AZRIELS POV

He loved her. He knew it was wrong, that he should not feel this way about his brothers wife. However, that very same brother was currently entertaining his mate in a different city. Azriel knew Feyre was innocent in all of this, but that did not mean he was.

Rhysand.

He was disappointed in him. He could understand saving Feyre from marrying the Spring Court High Lord. He could even understand the deal they made Under the Mountain, knowing all too well how Rhys will do anything to get under Tamlin’s skin. He didn’t understand why he stayed there with her, not coming home to check on his wife.

His wife who had waited for him for so long, praying for his safety everyday. His wife who always stood by his side, even in the darkest of times. His wife who was curled up against Azriel, sleeping with fresh tear stains on her face. It shouldn’t be him sitting her holding her, it should be her husband.

Azriel was interrupted from his thoughts by the sudden appearance of Rhys in the living room. He noticed the anger in his eyes as he took in the sight of his wife sleeping on the shadowsinger. “What is going on here, Azriel?” He asked, his voice cold.

It took everything in him not to roll his eyes. “She was upset, I helped. Much like you and your Feyre, no?” He knew it was a bad idea to get the High Lord riled up, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The room darkened, Rhysands magic creeping in. “You don’t speak to me like that, Shadowsinger.” He growled, teeth barred.

“I will speak to you how I wish if you continue leaving your wife to cry all alone.”

The words sucked all the air out of the room. Rhys stilled, his hands tightened into fists.

“Get out.” The demand was quiet, deadly. Azriel knew what Rhys could do, the power he could throw at him.

“Why? So you can suck up to your pretty little wife, beg her forgiveness for spending the week entertaining your mate? Never once coming to see her?” Azriel shot back, keeping his voice low as to not disturb the sleeping female next to him.

“I’m warning you once, do not provoke me today. Leave.” Rhys commanded, taking a step closer to the couch.

Azriel couldn’t help the way his arm tightened on her shoulders. An action that Rhys so meticulously noticed. He stepped forward, pulling his wife out of his arms. He cradled her close to his chest, moving to take her up to their room.

Azriel stood, shadows swirling angrily around him. “You will lose her if you are not careful, Rhysand.”

The High Lord turned, an unmovable darkness in his eyes. “Is that a threat, Azriel?”

Silence. Then; “No. But when you break her because you are too busy playing with Feyre, I will be there to pick up the pieces.” He knew he shouldn’t push this subject, not when it had been an almost friendship-ending fight 155 years ago.

“You are not the one she chose, Azriel. You would do well to remember that.” Rhys spat at him before walking up the stairs and out of view. Az was left standing in the room, anger and embarrassment swirling around his gut.

***

READER POV

You woke up, snuggling closer to the figure holding you tight to them. “Mmm, Az?” You said, not yet opening your eyes. The figure went rigid, arm loosening ever so slightly on you.

“No,” came the cold voice of your husband, “sorry to disappoint.”

Your eyes shot open, an excited “Rhys!” coming from you. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“Don’t ‘Rhys!’ me now, sweetheart. What game do you think you’re playing, messing with him like that?” He demanded, moving to stand up next to the bed. You sat, draping your legs over the edge.

“What do you mean, my love?” you asked, confusion on your face. Rhys scoffed.

“I come home, excited to see my wife, only to find her tucked under my brothers arm like she belongs there. Like she had found a way to replace me.” His voice quieted at the end, a pain to his words.

You shook your head, reaching out to grab his hands and pull him closer. “No, Husband. Never. Azriel is just my friend, as we have been over so many times. He was consoling me, I just missed you so.” You spoke earnestly, catching Rhys’ eyes.

He sighed, stepping in between your legs. “My love, my life. I know you understand how I feel, don’t you?” He leaned close, hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “You reek of jealousy.” His words were a deadly whisper, a jolt shooting through your body.

“Darling wife, how naive you are. How could I think of anyone else when I can come home to this perfect pussy anytime I want?” He growled, his other hand shooting up the slit in your dress, finding how wet you were for him. An embarrassingly needy moan fell from your lips as his fingers explored you, teasing you.

“Could Azriel make you feel like this? Fall apart at the barest touch?” His words were heated, a fiery passion in his eyes.

“No,” you choked out, his hand tightening on your neck. Rhysand gave a cruel smile at your gasping word, two fingers sliding pleasurably inside of you. You opened your mouth in a silent scream, melting into his touch.

“Mmm,” Rhys hummed, enjoying the feeling of you around his fingers. “How obedient for me.” His thumb came up to circle you, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets below you. You gasped out, breathing hard from the pressure Rhys had on your neck.

“You are the only one who gets to feel this, love. Not Feyre.” He groaned out her name, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “You enjoy being a selfish, dirty slut, don’t you?” He asked, tilting your head up to him. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” You moaned, lost in the pleasure of his anger. His thumb circling faster, the increase causing your legs to shake.

“Open.” Rhys commanded, watching as you opened that perfect pink mouth for him. He spit into it, forcing you to swallow. “So obedient. So perfect.” He murmured, fingers pulling your pleasure from you. You moaned out his name, shaking as your orgasm took over. He worked you through it, only stopping to remove his cock from his pants.

“Now,” he said, picking you up and turning you around. “You’re going to place those hands on the bed, and I am going to fuck you so hard your screams are heard in the Spring Court.”

***

Here is Ch.3!! I have lots planned for Ch.4, i’ve already begun writing it. I have a request to do, and then I will get it out for you all!! Please keep leaving your comments!! ALSO if you want to be on a taglist for this story, please reply here!

Tags: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend

[binniebakery]

Closer

College AU!Taehyun x Gn!Reader (Strangers to ..) Suggestive! ♡ Summary: As a college student it was practically normal to go drink at parties if you were social enough. So when you kiss an attractive guy that you’ve never seen before, and he returns the favor, is that normal too? ♡ Warnings: Smoking, drinking, slight cursing. MDNI please! (also I’m not familiar with smoking so if I use terms wrong or misrepresent it I apologize!) not proofread because I'm lazy lol ♡ A/N: Totally wasn’t listening to ‘one of the girls’ while writing this !! don't ask me why I’ve been writing so much suggestive content lately I just don’t touch grass... mb guys 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️(I'm honestly on a roll rn) anywho enjoy this short thing!

Maybe you had too much to drink. Maybe. Hell, you could’ve even been cross-faded with the amount of joints being tossed around you, who knows? Your vision felt slightly hazy as a small smile sat on your lips, watching the blurbs of people dancing around to the music blasting in the tightly packed living room you were in. The frat parties at your uni were always a sight to see. You leaned against the wall of an empty corner, using said wall as leverage as your legs were feeling a little too much like jelly. Yeah, you were definitely crossed. Normally you were glued to your friend’s side but it seems tonight she’d run off with a random guy once again. You rolled your eyes at the thought. After a few minutes of deciding whether to call up your friend or a taxi to get back to your dorm, you find yourself staring at a male standing across the room. One hand holding a red solo cup, the other in his pocket as he swayed to the beat of the music. Although you were pretty familiar with everyone that went to these parties every weekend you’ve never seen that specific pair of large brown eyes before. You squinted your eyes in a weak attempt to get a better look but your vision was just too blurry, you were way too far gone. Normally you’d admire from afar but the mixed vodka in your system was encouraging you to go over to him. You bit your lip as you weighed your options, your eyes focusing a little too unnecessarily hard on the cup in your hand and swishing the alcohol inside around. Fuck it it’s not like you’ll ever see him again he probably doesn’t even go to your school. You pick yourself off the wall and slowly stride over to the brown-haired figure. You weren’t too sure how you were going to talk to him but the closer you got the more you found yourself wanting to just pull him in. He was possibly the most attractive guy you've ever seen. You take another sip of your drink, almost spilling it on yourself when someone suddenly bumps into you. “Oh shit!-- My bad I didn't see you there!” a random boy with a backward hat cackles as he pats your shoulder, passing through without a second thought. You simply smile awkwardly and nod as you watch him stride to the person you were just about to approach. You stood a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt their conversation and hoping this guy would leave so you could possibly make your move. He hands his friend the rolled-up blunt that was in his hand. “Here you go Taehyun. I’m heading out now– you comin’ or nah?” He tilts his head, a cheeky grin spread across his face.  Ah, so the guy you were trying to approach was named Taehyun. “Nah I’m gonna stay a little longer, I’ll see you later though man.” Taehyun fist-bumps the other male. You internally sigh in relief as you watch him walk away, your eyes looking back to Taehyun as he takes a long drag. You feel yourself shudder in anticipation. “Hey there.”

You freeze and realize Taehyun has caught you staring. Well, now you definitely have to talk to him.

“Hey.” Hey? Hey? Was that really all you could say? “Find something you like?” Taehyun cocks an eyebrow, eyes scanning the way your outfit shows just enough to leave the right amount to his imagination. You weren’t sure if your body was heating up from his intense gaze or the amount of alcohol that was in your system. “Is there an issue with that?” You sweetly respond. You were really throwing your cards onto the table, weren’t you? “Someone’s bold.” Taehyun chuckles as he takes a step closer to you. Eyelids heavy as he keeps sharp eye contact. Had you not been so far gone you would have crumbled under his gaze. “What's your name?” Taehyun leans in, talking loudly over the music. It was his attempt to hear you better but it was all it took for you to look up at him with a face fully flushed. He smirked at the sight knowing it wasn’t just the alcohol doing this to you. “Y/n, I see you smoke.” You aim your head towards the blunt in his hand and Taehyun swirls it between his fingers in front of his lips. “Taehyun, and yeah, you smoke?” You shook your head, you’ve had a few drags before but drinking was more your thing so you were pretty inexperienced. “Wanna try it?” He says as he slowly lifts the blunt to your lips. You shrug and before you can lean in he pulls it away and puts it right to his mouth. Taehyun inhales and blows the smoke in your face and chuckles. You pout at the sudden teasing. You really just want to wipe that cocky attitude right off his face. So you lean in and kiss him. Taehyun stands still in shock, hands hovering above your waist unsure of what to do. You pull away with a confident smile and the look on your face ignites something inside him. He stares at you tongue in cheek, oh you were bold. Taehyun suddenly grabs you by the waist and pulls you in with one swift move. You gasp and his lips are crashing back onto yours. He bites your lip harshly and you groan, the second your lips part open his tongue is exploring inside. You tasted like sweet alcohol and his breath was warm, absolutely reeking of weed. All you could do was let Taehyun ravage your lips as the buzz took over. Your body felt like it was in flames from the way his hands roamed your waist, with your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. Closer. You wanted more than anything to just feel closer to him. You tug at his hair and Taehyun groans. “Gonna make me do something I might regret if you keep doin’ that” he mumbles against your lips and you take it as a challenge. You pull away and Taehyun looks absolutely fucked. Pupils deep and dilated as he stares at you with full intensity. Those eyes were so captivating and your breath hitches at how attractive he looks right now. “More..” You whispered, but the music blasting around drowned out your hoarse voice. Taehyun is able to read your lips regardless and the second he’s able to hand his blunt to the nearest person he’s grabbing you by the wrist to whisk you away. Both your cups left long forgotten as soon as you place them on the ground. Both of you soon find yourselves making out in the hallway as you weren’t even able to fully go up the stairs without your hands exploring Taehyun like he was artwork. It was driving him to the brink of insanity. Both your senses were heightened to the point that any slight touch caused either of you to shiver. The way Taehyun kissed you had your head in the clouds, he was far from gentle, nipping at your lips and harsh hands gripping your body. All you could do was let him. His mouth finds itself on your neck and you sigh softly as the both of you fumble into the nearest bedroom.

Taehyun pushes you against the door as soon as it closes behind you to cover your delicate skin in pretty purple markings. It was all becoming a blur, his heavy hands taking off your clothes, your tongue moving against his, the booming music fading the longer you were with him, skin and skin grazing, the room heating up further with the smell of weed and sweat. All you knew was that in the end, you and Taehyun were going to get a lot closer than you had intended.

[inevitable-pretty-words]

Part 1, part 2

Content – intimate whumper, hero x villain, villain with magical powers, fantasy whump, psychological whump, mention of memory alteration, manipulation and blackmailing, forced submission, dub-con kissing and touching, suggestive (although subtle) writing

Hero opened his eyes and began to look around the strangely familiar room, panicked.

He couldn't remember anything. No memory, no event or thought from yesterday, as if someone had made a hole in his brain, left it unattended and let him bleed out. He wasn't exaggerating at all, his head hurt so much that he could only stare into space through watery eyes and dream of losing consciousness, even for a moment.

But sleep wouldn't come and he still remained conscious. Despite this, he strained his mind and tried to realize what had happened, desperately trying to fill the void in his memory and figure out why he was in this place. Without any success. The lack of an answer only increased his panic.

As soon as he tried to move, he quickly realized that he was tied to a chair. The tightly tied ropes irritated his body and he knew that if he started to struggle in desperation and try to free himself, he would only hurt himself unnecessarily.

Someone had gagged his mouth. He couldn't even call for help, although it probably wouldn't be very wise. He would only attract wrong people's attention.

So he sat quietly, trying to think of any way out of the situation, for some reason having a strong feeling of déjà vu.

He wasn't left alone with his thoughts for long.

The door suddenly opened and Hero didn't know whether to feel relief or fear seeing Villain enter the room.

"Poor boy...," he said, coming closer and seeing tears in his eyes. "Do you still have a headache?"

This rhetorical question made him realize something. It was as if everything had clicked into place and the chaotic information had finally made sense. Hero stared resentfully at Villain, wanting to show his displeasure at least in this way.

But he just laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. Hero hated that this small, strangely familiar and meaningless gesture had instantly calmed him down.

"If you're a good boy, I'll take the gag off, okay?"

Hero nodded involuntarily, his thoughts momentarily losing their meaning when he heard what Villain had called him.

Villain unbuckled the strap from behind his head and let the ball gag hang from his hand, then took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the saliva off his lips.

"Please...," Hero started talking. His voice was too whiny, he sounded like a desperate child, but he didn't care about his pride, not when he felt like his skull was about to burst.

Villain quickly interrupted him.

"Wait."

Villain put the gag on a nearby table and took a pack of pills out of his pocket. He spilled out two of them into his hand.

"It's just a painkiller," he reassured him with amusement, seeing Hero's suspicious look. "Open your mouth."

Hero obeyed immediately.

Villain placed two pills on his tongue and held the uncapped bottle of water to his lips.

Hero swallowed the pills. He wasn't religious, but now he prayed for the medicine to work.

"You erased my memory," he said quietly, to distract his thoughts from the pain.

Villain nodded.

"And I guess you won't tell me what happened."

"What would be the point of that, my dear? I don't think I erased yesterday to remind you about it now, hm?"

Something about the way he said it and the petname he had given him reminded him of something. But as soon as he focused his thoughts on it, he only ecountered blankness.

"Why..." Villain interrupted him again, this time placing a hand over his mouth. Hero turned an irritated look on him.

"You know, I wanted to free you. Let you go, but... Supervillain insisted that you be interrogated. So I volunteered."

Interrogated? Hero frowned and involuntarily moved his hands, trying to free them from their bonds, imagining all the plots of the movies he had watched. Situations like that never ended well.

"Oh, don't worry," Villain laughed as if reading his mind and moved his hand to his hair, tugging it lightly. "I wouldn't enjoy hurting you. I thought I could tease you, though. You can’t stop me anyway," he added with a slight smile.

Hero's heart beat faster as he understood the meaning of his words. He jerked his wrists, but the tightly tied ropes only chafed him even more. He was trapped, at Villain's mercy, and something told him that this wasn't the first time Villain had complete control over him. And it probably wouldn't be the first time Hero finally gave in.

"You don't have to do this," Hero said weakly, but he just ran his hand through his hair, gently and tenderly, as if he cared about his well-being. Which of course wasn't true.

"Would you rather I took out the knife?"

Hero moved his head away from his hand, feeling his earlier anxiety only grow.

"No, no, of course not," he assured quickly.

But he did it anyway, and with a quick movement, he put the tip of the knife to his chin, forcing him to look at him. For a second Hero risked a glance into his eyes, but Villain must have been hiding his emotions well, at least at the moment, because he couldn't read anything in them.

A few seconds passed in complete stillness.

Hero felt growing anxiety, wondering if Villain would dare to press the knife harder and hurt him, thus breaking the promise he had just made to him. But Villain only approached him, slowly, teasing him, and then kissed him on the forehead. Hero immediately blushed and Villain put the knife away and stepped away, watching his adorable reactions.

"You like it," Villain noticed, and at that moment Hero wanted to disappear to hide his embarrassment.

"Could you stop?" his voice sounded too quiet and uncertain. He grimaced.

"Okay," Villain said to his surprise and took a step back. "I'll call someone else to take care of you, since you hate me so much. Although then I will not be able to predict in what state Superhero will find you later."

Hero's heart froze, hearing this threat.

"You wouldn't do that."

Villain smiled.

"You're not sure. Your voice is trembling," he noted with amusement and took another step towards the door.

"Villain, please," Hero threw out in panic, feeling that he was running out of air from fear.

Villain slowly turned towards him, surprised.

"Oh? I thought I'd have to wait longer for your plea."

"This isn't funny!"

Villain laughed and slowly approached him like a predator toying with its prey before tearing it to pieces. Hero could only hope that such an end didn't await him.

"No? Well, it seems that we have a different opinion, because I am having a great time."

Hero had the impression that at that moment Villain had let go of the brakes, as if he had previously hidden his true intentions, his desires. Maybe he had flirted with him in the past; or maybe Hero had always misinterpreted his behavior, naively counting on Villain being honest with his feelings. But never before had Villain seemed so dangerous, as if he was desperate. What drove him to act? Was Supervillain watching them, ready to take matters into his own hands? Or was it simply Villain's ambition? Hero had no idea, and this uncertainty terrified him.

The world around him ceased to matter when Villain unexpectedly straddled his lap, distracting his thoughts, and looked into his eyes with superiority. Hero closed them automatically.

"Look at me."

Hero didn't want to. For some reason, he felt fear, some strange anxiety and the feeling of déjà vu returned to him. This time, he knew exactly why.

Villain laughed.

"Tell me, please, why would I erase your memory now? I've already achieved what I wanted."

Hero opened his eyes, reluctantly admitting he was right. Villain was looking at him with amusement. Which was definitely worse than his previous indifference.

"Good boy," Villain said, placing his hand on his cheek.

Hero sighed. His earlier headache had completely disappeared, whoever was listening to him had fulfilled his prayers. However, it was still hard for him to focus his thoughts, as if his medicine had been contaminated with a sweet, dangerous drug.

"Why are you like this?" Hero asked, confused, trying not to be distracted by his tender touch.

"What do you mean?" Villain pretended not to understand.

"Why do you call me that? Why...?"

"Because I can," Villain interrupted him again and moved his hand to his hair, placing the other on his waist.

"That... that's not an answer."

Villain just smiled, noticing the blush quickly forming on Hero's cheeks. He played with his hair, twisting strands around his fingers and tugging them lightly, while he carefully slid his other hand under his shirt.

Hero's eyes widened.

"Villain..." he wanted to say it like a warning, but it sounded more like he was saying his lover's name.

"Something's wrong?"

Hero wanted to nod. To say something and stop this madness, because he knew it wasn't leading to anything good. But he knew that he wouldn't convince Villain with his words, not when he couldn't even move.

A part of him didn't even want Villain to stop touching him. He involuntarily moved his gaze to his lips and couldn't stop feeling that he had once kissed them.

Villain took his silence as permission. He approached him with a dangerous glint in his eyes, placed a light kiss on his neck and gently ran his hand over his stomach, as if he was afraid that any stronger touch could destroy him, ironically rubbing the scars he had inflicted with his fingers.

Hero's heart was beating too fast, and he couldn't hide the great influence Villain had on him. His thoughts, if he had any, disappeared completely, obscured by the growing feelings. It wasn't wise to let down his guard near such a devious person. But as soon as he felt more kisses on his neck, all he could do was press his lips together to keep any sound that shouldn't have echoed in the interrogation room from escaping.

"You're so beautiful," Villain cooed, pulling away from his neck just to see his face.

"This isn't right," Hero managed to whisper, all too aware of Villain's hand still touching his stomach, drawing delicate patterns on his skin.

"No?" Villain laughed and stroked his cheek. "And yet you're blushing. Your heartbeat is racing. You can't tell me you want me to stop."

No, Hero couldn't honestly say anything like that. And yet he had a strong feeling that this wasn't right. Not like this. Definitely not now.

"Villain, please..." he whispered pleadingly, wanting to stop all this before it was too late.

"What are you asking of me?" Villain asked, and Hero remained silent, unable to give him an honest answer.

“I thought so.” Villain, pleased with himself, moved his hand from his hair to his hip, tracing small circles on it with his fingers.

Hero felt his heart speed up and he could barely catch his breath. All his thoughts focused only on Villain, on his shining eyes, on his touch that made him melt, on his closeness.

At the same time, there was nothing electrifying or unfamiliar about it. Just the touch that Villain had given him earlier, whom he knew so well, had changed its nature and brought him pleasure instead of pain. He felt as if they were both striving for this moment, as if the previous fights seasoned with flirtation were culminating right now. Before, he had resembled energy that couldn't find an outlet, circulating restlessly, never satisfied. Now everything made sense and he could breathe and allow himself a moment of unwisdom.

Villain's hand moved between his legs and he sighed, wishing only for his desire to consume him, to burn away everything that was bad, every flaw of his, creating something completely new. He felt that thanks to Villain he could be reborn.

"Hey, Hero," Villain's tender voice seemed to lull him into a state of bewilderment even more.

Hero looked at him with eyes clouded with pleasure like a faithful worshipper of his god.

"What is Superhero planning?"

That one sentence was like a punch in the gut. Hero blinked, sobered from his charm, the words choked by betrayal refused to come out of his mouth.

I asked a question." Villain didn't stop moving his hands, but his touch burned him, leaving dirty marks on his skin.

" Why?" he choked out, trying to pull away.

Villain stopped immediately. In one movement, he got off him and stood next to him, automatically lighting a cigarette taken from his pocket, thus ending the scene that he had just created.

Hero watched the indifference that was once again on his face, that cold expression which he hated. His former god dismissed him with silence, apparently considering smoking a cigarette more important than wasting time on him.

"I was supposed to interrogate you, wasn't I? I just figured you'd prefer that to pain," Villain gave him a quick look, stubbing out the cigarette with his shoe. "That touch would loosen your tongue like alcohol."

"You planned this from the beginning," Hero realized, looking at him with wide eyes, the bitter taste of being used on his tongue.

"No, I just wanted to take advantage of the situation. It worked, almost, " Villain smiled, stepping closer. "Although... I wonder if if I kissed you, would you answer me."

Hero felt like crying. He could feel the kiss on his lips that never happened, or rather, that he didn't remember. The invisible marks left by his hands on his skin burned him, and yet he, probably driven by masochism, wanted to continue to dwell in the fantasy in which Villain loved him, in which his feelings were sincere.

"N-no...," he mumbled uncertainly, and Villain noticed his hesitation.

"We can find out."

Villain slowly placed his hand on his shoulder and leaned down, searching his eyes for an answer.

"I could give you what you want. Satisfy you. Continue what we started. You would like that, I know you would, even though you secretly hate me," Villain continued to convince him and wiped the tears that had suddenly flowed down his cheeks. "All you have to do is nod and give me answers in return. You can also allow yourself escapism."

Hero did not understand his last words. His wounded heart wanted nothing to do with Villain, yet he sought solace. Even if it came from the one who had ignited his soul only to extinguish it. 

"So? What is your answer?" 

And then, as soon as their eyes met, Hero submitted, allowing Villain to burn him.

@doctorsawyer