#celebrating killing the part of me that cringes

[fizzseed]

[arminsumi]

★ Nanami Kento is on a dating app

★ Pairings : fem reader / Nanami Kento

★ Synopsis : Gojo and his students make Nanami a dating profile without him knowing. And he passes on all the profiles except yours, which catches his interest. So the two of you go on a dinner date and hit it off.

★ Content : fluff, humor

★ Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+, smutty/suggestive, light angst

"Okay, what else can we add?" Yuji asked.

"He's friends with the handsome Gojo Satoru." Gojo said, peering into the phone.

"—Friends with the handsome Gojo Satoru. Okay. Got it. How tall is Nanamin again? Gotta have height, it's important."

Gojo thought for a moment, "Six and a half feet."

"Okay! Aaand voilà; Nanami Kento is now online." Yuji finished up Nanami's profile.

Yuji and Gojo high-fived to celebrate their efforts.

Megumi looked up from his own phone, "He's gonna kill the both of you once he finds out about this. You know he's allergic to his phone."

"Hush, Megumi, you helped us commit this crime. You added the "bad at texting" part didn't you?" Gojo said.

"What — you added that!? I was just stating a fact, you idiots!" Megumi cringed.

What was the meaning of this? Well.

Yuji, Megumi and Gojo were worried about Nanami's recent gloom. He'd just called it quits with his wife a year ago, and only now was he really starting to feel the impact of heartbreak. Though he remained pretty stoic about it, Gojo picked up on his gloominess.

They decided that he needed to start dating again, to get out into the world and meet potential soulmates, so that maybe he could realize there are plenty of fish in the sea. Of course, none of them had been married. They didn't really understand that he couldn't just "go out and try again" after being married to someone for 5 years.

Gojo had come up with the idea of secretly making Nanami a profile on a dating app.

Oh boy, when Nanami found out...

"Satoru what the fu—"

"—You have sooo many requests just look through 'em at least! Promise me you'll go on at least one date, okay? ATTA BOY!"

"You're seriously annoying." Nanami sighed.

So he looked through the profiles of people who sent him requests. He frowned so intensely that frown lines formed on his aging skin.

He kept deleting request after request, barely paying more than two seconds of interest to the icons let alone the profiles. Nanami was thinking judgmentally about each profile.

Then his thumb stopped moving. He stared and paid attention to your icon when it showed up.

He read your profile.

YOU

Bio : I like reading. Dilf-enjoyer. Need a beach vacation that lasts the rest of my life. 🥲 My friends forced me to make a profile.

Then he looked at your profile icon closer, zooming in on your face. You weren't smiling in the picture.

Gojo peered over and opened his big mouth;

"Ah, not her — she looks like a party pooper with that kinda frown."

A frown. He accepted your request. Gojo seemed totally confused.

Your phone buzzed.

🔔 LOVEHIVE

↳ NANAMI KENTO ACCEPTED YOUR REQUEST

↳ 1 NEW MESSAGE FROM NANAMI KENTO

Kento : Hello. How are you. Sorry about the weird profile description. My annoying friend Gojo and his students made this profile without my knowledge.

You scrunch your face in confusion and laugh. You've just finished your nightly routine and stroked lotion on your freshly shaven legs when you receive this message from Nanami.

He waits, tapping his foot on the cold kitchen floor as he drinks a glass of wine — languidly and sophisticatedly.

You : haha it's no problem. why did you accept my request?

Kento : I don't know. I liked the fact you were frowning in your profile picture. It resonated with me.

You : 😂 oh thanks. love that

Kento : What about you? Why did you send me a request?

You : your description was a perfect match so my friend sent the request.

Kento : Same friend who made you make this profile?

You : yeah 😭 to be fair tho... we do match. we're practically made for each other.

Kento : Yup. "Aspiring dilf" and "dilf-enjoyer". Legendary romance in the making.

You and Nanami kept talking... huh. Go figure.

An hour and a half went by without Nanami even realizing — he was texting, something he genuinely hated doing and only ever did out of necessity for work. And usually he ignored messages from friends, especially that idiot Gojo.

But Nanami wandered around his penthouse, texting you, chuckling to himself and smiling at your texts until his dimples and smile lines showed up.

You : alright then. see you tomorrow at 5:30 pm yes? you can cancel if you change your mind or don't feel well.

Kento : Yes sure. Same to you. Don't feel pressured.

You both said goodnights... but then talked a little more.

Then another hour later, Nanami finally got into bed.

He slipped into the silky, satin sheets after completing his nightly routine. His was a little different to yours — he had no interest in skincare so that part was entirely neglected. You'd talked to him about your routine.

Nanami thought as he stared at the ceiling; maybe she can introduce me to some magic products that take away these dark circles.

Usually when he falls asleep, he thinks about all the problems in his life and all the pending, imminent work that he has to complete the next day. Even if it was the weekend coming, or a holiday, nothing cured his need to work. Gojo called him a workaholic, but that wasn't entirely true. Deep down, Nanami really just needed that big vacation.

And the date with you was like a type of vacation.

Now, listen, when he first saw you standing there waiting for him in the slight drizzle, his gentleman guilt ate him up.

"I'm so sorry. The traffic wouldn't budge." he apologized immediately. "Get inside, you'll get sick."

This man was by far the biggest gentleman you'd ever met. Before even saying hello, he already showed care by steering you out of the rain.

You sat across from him, and easing into the conversation was awkward — because he tried to break the ice by asking you which books you enjoyed reading, and you replied honestly.

"I uh... so do you know this app?" you pulled out your phone, giggling, "I read on here. Usually smut."

"What's smut?" he asked.

You burst out laughing, thinking it was the funniest thing in the world to tell this to someone you'd just met. He got your humor, although it confused him — what's smut? You didn't explain. He figured it out for himself.

Well, the ice was certainly broken.

The two of you talked over a bottle of wine. The night deepened. You felt a bit out of place in this fancy restaurant. No other men had taken you to such an exquisite place before.

"What music do you listen to?" you asked conversationally.

"Uh," he thought for a moment, "Lots of Billie Holiday. Does that make me sound like an old man?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"Not at all." you replied.

"I just like relaxing to that music." he said.

"What else? Any music that isn't from the dinosaur age?" you asked.

There's a slightly flirty edge in your voice that he picks up on. He doesn't know what to do. He tries to sound flirty back.

"Hey now don't be rude... I'm still in my twenties."

"In your twenties... and you enjoy dinosaur music." you teased.

You pulled out his first smile of the night. His smile lines and subtle dimples showed up.

He got the hang of flirting. It had been a while, so it took some easing into. He hadn't been romantic since... well. You know.

"So, you're divorced?" you asked sensitively.

"Yeah. Have been for a year now." he nods.

He started circling his thumb on the rim of his wine glass. He couldn't meet your gaze — your eyes made him feel entranced.

"Do you mind if I pry?" you asked. "I just want to know why it didn't work out. I mean, personally, I'm scared of marriage and I don't think I'll ever tie the knot with anyone."

Nanami chuckled, "Scared of marriage? I understand. If I could offer you any advice for getting ready to marry... I'd say choose your men like you'd choose wine." he advised.

Then he continued, "Anyways, she cheated on me. I mean, I saw it coming and I could have ended it sooner so I don't know why I held on for so long and talked it out with her. I think I just wanted to believe that the one I loved wasn't a bad person. But she was."

"Oh. That's heavy. Are you doing okay?" you asked.

Nanami finally looked up at you and made lingering eye contact.

"Nothing wine can't fix — kidding. I'm doing my best. I mean, truthfully, if it weren't for my work to keep me busy I think I'd just sulk around the house in my slippers." he said.

"You shouldn't sulk in your slippers, you should sink your feet into sand." you said. "Get that vacation in Malaysia."

His mouth spread into a dimply smile at this.

"Well, if I go on vacation, I feel it would be right to bring you with. As attractive as you look with a frown, I'd like to see you smiling." he said.

Your cheeks warmed up. "Gee, I'd love to go on a vacation with you... but I've only just met you. What if you're a serial killer?"

He chuckled, "I work a nine to five job and listen to Billie Holiday. Does that spell "serial killer" to you?" he asked rhetorically.

"Maybe." you joked, "I'm sure lots of serial killers work nine to five jobs and listen to Billie Holiday."

He laughed again. You admired his dimples. Suddenly, you remembered something funny about his profile.

"So, what about that "aspiring dilf" part of your bio?" you asked humorously.

"Oh, are you intrigued by that?" he flirted, "I'm sure it was my friend Gojo who added that. I swear, I mentioned to him just once that I wanted to have a family, and he interpreted me as an... "aspiring dilf"."

Your lips curled into a smirking smile that made Nanami's stomach muscles tense up.

"Well if it counts, I like the process of baby making. Don't know about having a huge family, though." you said.

Nanami blinked and became completely flustered by what you had said. He was taking a sip of wine and nearly choked on it.

"Good to know." he replied. "Can't say I feel the same about the process of baby making, though."

"Why is that?" you asked.

You and Nanami talked about sex over dessert. He distractedly nibbled on his tiramisu.

"... my first times for everything were really awkward. Not bad. Just jarringly awkward. And then with my wife, she seemed a bit disappointed in me for not being sexually inclined. Probably part of the reason she went off with my co-worker, you know."

You listened to him, and he was thrilled to feel so at ease. It was just the first date and yet he could be so raw with you.

"Well, my first time was awful." you reminisced, then went on to talk about your first times.

Nanami nodded slowly, then spoke up, "Maybe you just needed a more experienced man to take care of you properly."

You squeezed your thighs together tighter and felt your skin flush hot.

"Maybe. Do you know a guy?" you joked flirtatiously.

Nanami smiled bashfully. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be too forward there."

"Not at all. I'd love to try with an experienced man who knows how to treat me right." you murmured.

You leaned over the table, looking up into his eyes.

Nanami reciprocated your sultriness. His heart was beating faster, and he stopped eating his tiramisu.

"... how do you want to be treated?" he asked.

"... well, I'd love a strong gentleman to grab me by the hair... and give me his babies."

Nanami's breath hitched. He had a tent forming in his pants, his cock was squished against his inner thigh getting longer as it got harder.

"... I think I can do that." he replied breathlessly.

He felt a small shiver when you brought your hand up to his cheek to caress it. Just that small touch sparked so much inside him.

By the time he paid the bill, his boner was calming down. But when you said goodbye to him and caught your taxi, you did something that made his cock stiffen again.

You got on your tiptoes and planted an appreciative kiss on his dimple.

"Thank you for showing me a good time." you murmured into his ear.

He swallowed hard, "Of course... thank you for being good company."

"Mhm. Look forward to keeping you company again."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[empressgetou]

HIS TREASURE

chrollo x zoldyck reader

being born as a girl zoldyck is not a fancy fairytale story or rainbows and unicorns. it is a hundred times more darker and gruesome if you ask y/n. in her younger years, whenever she was tasked to do things outside the kukuroo mountain, she would finished her tasked first and foremost then wander into places in her spare time.

specifically, in yorknew city since most of her jobs are around these parts. that is where she met him. chrollo lucilfer, her boyfriend, and the phantom troupe's leader.

she about not older than 9 years old, when she happen to wander around the city after finishing her job and chrollo who was 11 years old at that time, who happens to be doing the same, spying and observing people around. his attention was caught by her straight-long silver colored hair that complemented her body and pale skin, making him thought she was interesting and decided to follow her discreetly or so he thought.

y/n felt a pair of eyes trying to burn in the back of her head, sensing a great amount of nen she swiftly tried to get away without him suspecting. but before she could turn to the other corner of the alley he jumped in front of her. confused how he managed to caught up with her speed and from a crowded place.

"you're not gonna kill me are you?"

"not, if you're going to tell me why'd you try running away from me?"

"you have a strong nen in you, i assumed you were targeting me that's why."

"ohh! so you know about nen! i just learned them recently."

a day just before y/n turns 16, she's currently still in york new city, who had just finished her job. she is on her way to the airport going back home and unexpectedly received another call.

"happy birthday." greeted by a gentle voice on the other side of the phone.

"i dunno if you forgot that tomorrow is my birthday or you're just teasing." her lips slowly forming a smile.

his audible laugh can be heard from the other side, "the latter... why don't you turn around so you can have your early present."

as soon as she shifted her gaze, there, she saw chrollo approaching her way who has his right hand in his ear holding the phone and his left hiding in the back.

he stopped in front of her and handed her a small bag. she opened it without hesitation and sees a gold necklace with a small open heart and a cross similar to his tattoo hanging, that have every bit of diamonds embedded into it.

"you didn't steal this right?" she joked causing them to both laughed.

"absolutely not. i had them customized for you."

his statement made her heart weak and hugged him as if the world depends on it. he was taken back a bit and hugged her back.

"happy birthday, angel. wish i could celebrate it with you tomorrow but oh well maybe next time." his voice was ever gentle holding her body close to his.

"you know my family, they say it's important to be together in this special occasion ." she replied that made her cringe.

"though i hoped you didn't threaten the jeweller to make these." he laughed again and shook his head saying a no.

"thank you, i love it."

y/n now age of 24. she managed to hide his relationship with chrollo all throughout these years from his family, and from her father especially. though she did thought that illumi who was close to her may have a hint about this relationship but not that she minded. years and years of training, she became much stronger of her abilities. if grandpa zeno were to ask, he'd definitely say that y/n could be on par or much much more skillful than illumi if she wishes to be.

i mean she is trained by the most infamous family of assassins and together with that she was also trained by the leader of the phantom troupe, a world-famous gang of thieves and a criminal organization, though she would sulk from time to time since chrollo would not give her a special treatment just because they are lovers.

she was taking a break in her training outside at the back of their manor when a butler came and brought news that killua had already come home to god knows where he had been. she and killua have a very close relationship together with her younger siblings, and she doesn't deny that she each love all of them differently and yes that includes milluki.

a few days later, she came home late because apparently she was too busy strolling around their hometown, she then heard from her mother's call that killua's friends came to get him out of this hellhole of a place. well, if she were in killua's place, she would've gone with them. she tried to run away for years, but she keeps coming back because her poor younger siblings would face the wrath of illumi and their father would constantly gaslight her into punishing them badly if she were to run away for good. she know how her old man works his way through them and how everyone in the household is manipulated by him and of course illumi learned how to effectively use it on them too.

-

she loves her family, she treasures them but she hates how they are being treated like toys and disposable objects if you were to fail them. but for the sake of everyone's peaceful life especially her younger siblings. y/n made the sacrifice to not leave kukuroo mountain and made a deal with his father to leave her siblings alone and she'll be working in the family business and after she finishes her work they'd let her be outside their home because they know eventually she'll just come back.

if she was born a male, her father would've made her the successor of the family considering she inherited the zoldyck genes and power but alas killua was born, a more suited heir and a prodigy. she was the first prodigy before killua, and if her wishes were to be granted, she is willing to follow whatever her father's wishes to if it means protecting the younger ones who wants a normal life. but they all know that their life wouldn't be normal because of their family's reputation and history.

-

she went straight into the butler's quarters knowing killua's friends were waiting for him. she then saw a few butlers waiting outside. as soon as they saw the lady, panic in their eyes risen and tried to convince the lady to wait for killua.

"what's the big deal, i just wanna meet his friends."

"well... uhmm but the lady would be furious if we were to–"

"i don't care what she says, i'm harmless see? now lemme through or my hands are gonna go through your head." that made every last one of them gulped into fear.

"nee-chan no need to be so violent, let's go meet them together." killua's voice was heard from the door thinking killua may have gotten here first, that made her stop approaching the butlers.

"hmp they wouldn't let me through, m'not gonna eat your friends you know." killua giggled her sister's childish remarks and held her hand to his.

"teehee i know, now let's go meet them." snickering while his cat face evidently showing.

y/n having a strong sense of hearing can hear the clanking of metals and eventually stopped, she looked at his brother to see if he also heard it.

"you think they're tryna kill your friends?" she joked.

"nahhh they wouldn't dare." true since he was already free to go with them according to their father.

"well im glad that he let's you do that. i hope you enjoy every bit of time with your friends." she smiled ever so sweetly.

killua looked at her again, "what about you neechan? aren't you gonna leave here? you don't wanna stay in this place."

"no, neechan has to do a lot of things back here. but you'll definitely see me around if i do work outside, if your'e lucky." she winked at him.

as killua opened the door he dashed near his friend near his age, he calls him gon, and the blond male named kurapika and a bit older teen with glasses named leorio. she quietly the entered and the others sensed another presence behind the door.

gotoh was the first one to greet, seeing their lady unexpectedly showing to the guests, "m'lady, you have arrived. this is killua-sama's friends. they came to get him" explaining as he bowed.

"yes, i've heard." roaming her eyes into each of them. studying their appearances and this one particular glasses man was staring at her intently making her eyebrows raised.

"well it seems you have good friends, don't you kill?" killua nodded and grabbed gon's hand pulling him in front of the woman.

"this is gon, he's my best friend. he's my age too, neechan! and that blonde is kurapika and the old guy is leorio."

"i'm not old! i'm only nineteen!" leorio butted in.

"maybe it's the suit and glasses that's making you look old." y/n slightly smirked looking at him that made the guy a blushing madly.

"but don't worry, everybody has their own style. don't they?" she asked him and leorio nodded aggressively.

"this is my sister, y/n. and will you quit simping for him old man? she may not look like it but you're way too young for her and she's good at seducing people so don't let her fool you." killua said with a bit of teasing her sister making y/n laugh.

she then thought of an idea that made her smirk, "alright, that's enough. i don't want you revealing my secrets to your friends or that wouldn't be too good for you, would it?"

killua sweated making him regret what he just said, "aheheh gomen. that wasn't really my intention, neechan."

"i can see you enjoy their company kill, i'll take my leave first, i wouldn't wanna be on your way much longer. i'm pretty sure you all have come a long way." while taking a last look at his companions.

she grabbed his hand and hugged him ever so tight that made his friends surprised, the butler's however did not react a bit, for they have known that the zoldyck's daughter is more transparent to her feelings especially when it comes to her siblings.

"m'gonna miss you again kill. be safe alright, and no more trouble, okay?— don't worry, neechan will be there when you need her. i'm always close by." with that she left as soon as he kissed his forehead.

truly her sentence was a bit odd for killua's friends but killua understood what she said since she was always traveling a lot and not actually staying home all the time.

5 months have passed and y/n and killua are in contact with each other of his whereabouts. she had heard that they were in heavens arena in the past few months and unsurprisingly a specific clown was also back there and then the remaining months he went to whale island with his friend gon.

she is, as usual traveling again and is currently in zaban city. her phone beeped signaling an email, fished her phone out and stared and the text indicated.

"meet me at *location*."

eager to see her lover again, she dashed her way to his whereabouts. as soon as she got there, there he was standing and waiting and once again with a gift in the table that she assumes is theirs and this time a bouquet of white cleome hassleriana with a few of rose lillies, and forget-me nots in them.

"i missed you."

"missed you too, lover."

he went to get her seat and settled her, y/n thanking him and she was already opening the gift bag that says dior and chanel.

"i thought that this day should be special so i went all out and got these for you."

seeing inside the bags that he bought contained some make up products, perfumes, and a few clothing and made her so excited like a child. he handed the bouquet that is already making her eyes almost tear up.

"aww you're making me cry, you're so sweet. i love thesee! thank youuu."

she went and dipped her head as she kissed him softly while also getting the bouquet in his hands.

"i really like these flowers and you got my favorite too! you're really in love with me aren't you?" she teased still admiring the flowers.

"of course, all the best ones for you, my dear." he smiled so softly as if he was not the most wanted criminal around the world.

"thank you, really. i love you 'rollo"

"i love you too." as soon as he finished his sentence their food came in and the cake's candle was already lit ready for her to blow off.

"ohh and cake?? you're too much" she giggled that made him smile even more.

"happy birthday, my dear."

-

"i'll be expecting you at yorknew city next month?"

"hmm yes, i've seen a couple jewelries that interest me this year and a few weapons too maybe i could use 'em."

"the troupe would be excited to see you."

"hihi i can't even wait much longer. i wanna tell them so bad and just wanna ruin the surprise, specially the girls haven't seen them in a while."

"don't, it's more fun this way." he smirked.

yorknew city, a place that holds various annual auctions from september 1st to 10th, including the world's largest auction, the southernpiece auction, in which the world's rarest and most valuable items are sold.

by the gordeau dessert, some troupe are on their way to meet their boss in the said hide out. machi, nobunaga, feitan, and franklin. and the other spiders came from the other side are also on their way to yorknew city.

on the other side of the continent of republic of padokea, y/n still haven't woken up from her slumber and was already late for her daily routine. her mother, kikyo worries for her daughter all the time, and with that he ordered gotoh to check up on her on the other wing of the mansion.

as soon as gotoh managed to wake her up, she was already in panic saying that she was already late for her schedule to meet with the troupe which was supposed to be around 7 in the evening, exhausted from her training last night she haven't heard the alarm go off this morning and slept until afternoon came, which was very irresponsible as what her mother used to say. she was able to get ready in less than an hour and went to the airport for her flight and now she just gotta wait for the aircraft to land in the united states of saherta and meet with the spiders.

it was already past 12 in the night when she managed to get to the exact location, the boss was about to converse with the others when he felt another presence just came in and the spiders were a little too occupied to notice.

"gomen minna. i was supposed to come by earlier but i lost track of time." a gentle voice was heard and everyone whipped their head at the back.

"y/n!"

"y/n??"

"ohhh omoshiroi! y/n! long time no see!"

many reactions came from the spiders and the founding members huddled near y/n and she just laughed while holding the back of her head embarrassed for the attention given to her. she missed them so much. she found friends within them all throughout the years, her family.

"danchou, you never mentioned y/n was coming here! is she doing missions with us too?" asked uvo to which chrollo only responded with a slight nod.

"okay, boss everyone's here!" shalnark announced.

"well, boss? what are we stealing this time?"

"we will take the treasures of the underground auction."

"which treasures do you want?"

"ancient text, maybe? the boss does like books." machi suggested.

"no. maybe games, there will be many copies of most expensive games ever." feitan said in his broken japanese.

"wouldn't it be more logical to take precious metals and gemstone?" nobunaga butted in.

"all of it." chrollo finished and stepped in to the light so his face was seen by them and it made y/n smile.

"we'll be taking everything that's up for the auction."

"hold on, boss. are you sure? the underground auction is operated by gang from all over the world. just think about it!" excitement can be heard from uvo.

"if we do that, we're gonna make enemies out of every last one of 'em." he continued.

"are you scared, uvogin?" the boss questioned.

"no way! i'm ecstatic! i can't stop shaking! come on! give us the order boss!" uvo's voice is now getting louder at this point that made everyone smirk in excitement.

"i give you permission to kill them all. anyone who dares to get in our way." and with that uvo roared so loud that his voice reach outside of the building.

-

it's been a few hours after everyone had arrived and y/n and the founding members gathered close to each other and talk to catch up. they asked each other on their whereabouts for the past few years, some of them met each other by accident in some places and some met others because it was planned just like y/n and the girls would meet up from time to time whenever they have their free time. usually it's just near heavens arena because machi usually goes there for whatever reason, y/n didn't really asked. while talking to each other, y/n failing to notice a certain neon pink-haired eyeing their direction. he had seen y/n a few times more than one because of her brother and to think she was connected to the spiders made him excited. chrollo sensing hisoka's bloodlust from afar he decided to get down from his place and went near the spiders that's close to y/n.

"danchou, is there anything you need?" pakunoda asked and everyone stopped their conversation and faced him.

flashing a hint of smile on his lips, "why dont you ladies have your breakfast outside? it's already dawn, i heard there's this café i think you all would like."

y/n's eyebrows raised as she knows chrollo would usually offer it but this time he made it sound like he was sending them out of the hide out.

"oh yes, i've researced that there are many sweets to choose from. y/n, we should try it before we go off on our mission tonight." shizuku suggested that made the woman nod at her.

"should we get something for you boys?" the silver-haired asked.

chrollo flashing her a smile and said,"anything's fine," that made y/n nod her head again.

-

night time came and whoever was tasked to go outside for the evening are already in motion. y/n to her dismay stayed behind making her pout. currently sitting beside her lover making complaints.

"oh come on, why can't i got with them? it'd be faster with me helping ya'know?" she quietly whispers to which chrollo ignores her and continues to read his book.

not a moment later, his phone ringed. fishing it out and uvo's name on the screen. his muffled voice can be heard beside y/n saying that there was no sign of the items at the auction and the others concluded that the mafia might have hinted them that some bandits will try to steal or someone about being a traitor among the spiders, making chrollo decide to get the attention of the mafia and let the shadow beast follow them to locate the items.

hisoka, to his delight is thinking to himself on how the woman is a bit too close with the boss and it seems to tolerate her actions toward him. being to close with him, touching him here and their, talking to him nonstop and even lying her head on his lap, surely he thinks they're not just friends that's for sure.

an hour or so another call came in from machi, saying that uvo has been captured by a different individual and everyone decided to come back to the hide out. they then decided to track uvo and able to locate him captured by the nostrade family.

-

dawn had already came and still no sign of uvo, the boss decided to change their plans and is now currently on the hunt for the one's who kidnapped him and possibly who killed him.

y/n went off to search for her own clues and separated with the others in the meantime, afternoon then has set and she went to a house that shalnark managed to rob with chrollo. she sees chrollo already on his white buttoned-shirt and black pants.

he's so fine, she thought that made chrollo chuckle at his lover's stare.

she cleared her throat and told him the news. "my father and grandpa were hired at the auction to stop the troupe from interfering, they heard i was here and decided to call me in. sooo i guess, that's me against u huh?" she laughed.

"i'll just have to make sure your brother finishes his job before your family finishes me." he smiled softly as if he wasn't even planning a murder.

"no fun, but hey, if you manage to impress my father or grandfather, who knows maybe he might let you be with me. if he already knows about us i mean."

-

wearing her white silk above the ankle dress that matches her hair color and a silver heels, she was already sprinting towards where the meeting was supposed to hold with other assassins. nobody knows of an additional person in the job, only the two men inside that had just got in too.

knocking the big doors, everyone stopped talking and eyes went to the door. silva seeing his daughter already here, he then explained their own plan.

"she will be with us, you don't need to pay her, she'll be our responsibility."

while some assassins are amazed by a figure that just got inside, some were already complaining.

"a girl in an assassination mission? is she even capable of defeating a troupe member?" some smirked and snickered by his sentence, y/n trying her hardest not to get provoke.

kurapika eyed her for a second while y/n failed to notice his brother's friend due to her closed eyes stopping herself killing the others in the room.

-

after the meeting and everyone seems to be intimidated by the zoldyck family, truly living up to their name and fame as to what others had thought, they let the family be. the zoldyck's exchanged a few words and went to there separate ways to inspect the whole building.

"nevermind them, you yourself know better than those punks." his grandfather whispered before walking his way. y/n thinks that his grandfather may have thought she was offended by what they said, well honestly, she wasn't, she was more of pissed because she knows she's far more skillful than those amateurs and she was trying her best to stop herself from killing them there.

-

chrollo now was inside the building and at the topmost floor. an assassin seems to have followed him and y/n happens to spot him and decided to just tail him as well. and to her delight, she finally found where chrollo was.

"why am i alive? what's happening?" said the assassin on the side.

"this is an indoor fish. you can't die unless the nen fish disappears."

the assassin spotted y/n walking her way to the leader, while y/n's eyes glued to the assassin.

"kill him!" the assassin shouted at y/n making her smirk.

"why would i?" she smirked as chrollo had already sensed her presence, making him turned around and walked towards her.

y/n stretched both her hands out reaching for chrollo's shoulder blades, inching her upper body close, hands dangling to his side and leaned in for a kiss which chrollo returned.

"we wouldn't wanna get violent with each other, won't we, lover?" her sentence just made chrollo chuckle. y/n then stepped to the side as chrollo began his requiem for uvo.

-

on the other side of the building, the elder zoldyck's are still roaming around trying to locate the phantom's boss without knowing he was already waiting in a specific room. y/n being sneaky as she is decided to play out as if she doesn't know anything and went to his father's side helping them.

the two elders now standing in double doors sensing a great amount of nen inside waiting. the three of them went inside and there awaits chrollo standing firm.

"we meet again." he spoke.

"you remember me?" asked the father.

"how could i forget? you killed one of my comrades."

the two zoldyck's went forward and as chrollo went near them as well, y/n stayed in her position while watching the men closely. the battle soon began and the zoldyck's wasted no time trying to get to the boss. a little moment after, a burst of aura coming out of the three, using each of their special abilities and with that a blinding light has struck their eyes and heavy shockwave was felt and soon after, the battle ended.

as soon as y/n recovered her eyesight, she instinctively went to the broken concretes and trying to look for her boyfriend while hearing the sounds of a phone call in the background, hearing her father talk to illumi.

"you okay?" she walked passed the crumbled concretes on her way and knelt in front of him holding his shoulder. chrollo nodded and put his hand on top her hand reassuring he was fine, that did not go unnoticed to both the zoldyck men.

after a very intense conversation, the zoldyck's were now finished and trying to walk out of the room. while her grandpa zeno did not react to whatever they saw a few moments ago and walked out smoothly, her father silva, was raging with anger and was giving chrollo his death glare, to which the latter was doing the same. for silva to see his daughter seem to be close with the thief's boss is atrocious, she is in a family of assassins who's name was built out of respect and with dignity and to think she was fooling around with his enemy made him mad, or maybe he just couldn't accept the fact that the only girl in the family was comfortable with another man other than the members of his family. he will talk to her once she gets back on the mountains and give her a good word but for now he will let her off the hook in the meantime.

a few minutes later, the troupe was now walking inside the room that chrollo fought with the zoldyck's and they all proceeded to the auction room.

"he's lying chrollo." the silver-haired woman exclaimed as she was glaring in hisoka's direction.

"he wants to keep all of us here, that's why."

"but according to his fortune, he seems to be telling the truth." shizuku explained while peeking at the paper.

"he could've put his nen to it and changed it."

fei snatched the paper and examined it,"don't see nen here."

what? i know i did, it was only for a moment but i did! she thought, and having heightened senses she saw a glimpse of his nen transferred to the paper.

"i know what i saw." she turned to chrollo and begged for him. "please we have to get out of here, or else there will be more trouble."

he looked at her and said,"let me see your paper. "

he read the first few lines and it was the same with the others mourning for uvo. but what caught his eyes were in the next poems.

seeing the truth was burden, you wished to have known better, as you saw a shadow of your own character.

a challenge between blood and water will clash, a spider so dear, if not careful shall pass.

as you mourn for the passed moons, you shall not overcome, losing your light to the darkness you will be succumb.

and true to her words, she seems to be telling the truth, but chrollo could not risk any more of the spiders to get killed. his family. not again. he had no choice but to keep them here. hisoka might endanger them all, including her. it's best to keep them where he can keep an eye of his family.

"so what's it gonna be, danchou?" shalnark broke the silence.

and another muted moment before he finally had decided. "we're staying." as soon as he declared to stay, hisoka's lust almost exposed and he will be a goner if he weren't too careful. y/n never believing what she just heard, turned her back as she walked to the door.

"i said we are staying y/n."

"and i'm not. i can't stand someone in the same room as that stupid clown. since you like to believe him anyway i might as well just leave on my own." she was being petty, she admits that. but something just tells her she shouldn't stay in there any longer, she knew what she saw and she'll have to get to the chain user first before any of the spiders do and finish him off once and for all.

paku walking to the same direction where y/n was a few seconds ago, when chrollo stopped her.

"she's going out to cool off. she'll be back."

and she did, she found herself inside a café and ordered herself a hot choco to cool herself off. sitting in the window side, she can see traffic, traffic and traffic on the streets and rain pouring outside. a beep then from the phone was heard and saw chrollo was trying reach out to her which she ignored.

a little while after commotion from the people walking beside the streets were whispering something was running on the building itself. she saw a fading figure of feitan and grew curious.

the spiders now standing by at the hotels lounge while they wait for the others, chrollo currently still trying to reach her. but little did he knew she decided to follow them a little while after. she read his messages briefly and went to the exact location.

barely wet from the pouring rain outside, y/n paved her way in the hotel and sees a very very familiar colored hair, the two boys are being held by machi with her nen and the others are by the other side.

her eyes open wide as chrollo approached her carefully all while her eyes meeting another pair of cerulean blue ones.

"why are these kids here?"

"they want to catch a spider they said, for the bounty."

“you have to let them go. we can’t risk anymore trouble if we are to take them.”

not hearing any replies from their leader, y/n then looked back at the two boys who’s also looking at her nervously.

she imaginatively palmed her face as she is thinking of what are her plans next now that his own brother just got himself in trouble with the troupe.

she can’t tell him about it all just yet. she groaned to herself knowing she might have made a mistake of not telling his nosy of a brother sooner than ever. and that is not to get in contact with them.

“don’t think about it too much, we’ll get uvo soon, y/n” nobunaga talked at the back when he heard her murmuring stuff that caught his attention thinking that she might be just worried of their friend.

y/n knows his brother too well like the back of her hand, she knows the two of them really wanted just the bounty but it’s way too stupid for them to go after the troupe all by themselves.

what was he thinking? she thought all while glaring at a scared killua, that made chrollo curious.

“something wrong?”

and just when she was about to answer him, the lights went off.

she heard a few shuffling in front of her that’s when she knew killua made his move in which she immediately grab his clothes and not let him get away.

by the time the lights are back, they are all still in one piece. well, except that their leader is already missing and there’s a letter attached to an arrow planted in the walls.

killua still could not read everything thoroughly of what is exactly happening and why his sister is with the troupe, he has no idea and is afloat as of that moment.

y/n immediately looked at the children blaming them for their sneaky little stunt they pulled in front of her.

she then thought, if they wanted the bounty for them to have money for their useless gaming consoles then they should’ve just brought every one of them, but why just their leader? is chrollo alone already enough to buy such treasure? or was there more to it that just the bounty?

all the questions came running through y/n’s head but unfortunately, her questions were all answered when a ringing sound the building signaling a call.

y/n somehow already figured the whole plot of why killua and gon had been chasing the troupe. apparently it wasn’t just for the money but they know who the chain user all along and is after a troupe member or well specifically, the chain user is after their leader. so they captured uvo to get the leader moving and make himself appear in front of him or her, y/n has no clue how to identify him because honestly she has not seen this chain user they speak of.

and this made her even more frustrated. she doesn’t mind if one of the troupe is in danger, they can get out of trouble all by themselves or with the help of others. what’s bothering her is the safety of the two children, who probably never had a moment to think all this thing through. putting themselves in danger by facing a thief organization all by themselves is insane. adding the fact that his boyfriend is now captured by the chain user who plans to kill him if they are not to hand over the kids over by midnight. certainly this was way harder than the tortures she endured from her father, she’d rather have those.

after a few arguments along the way from the call and back to the hideout, everyone had already agreed they would trust pakunoda to ensure the safety of their danchou by letting her hand over the kids alone in a specific place. as much as half of the troupe would disagree to save the danchou all by themselves, the other half wanted to agree with the chain user’s deal. they wanted to play this safe. they still want him back. they still need their leader with them. and that is what paku thinks as well.

before she left the hideout, she had to look intently at y/n to which she understood what she was already doing for. whatever the result may be, she is doing all these for them, for her leader, for her family.

y/n not able to contain herself as she was already overwhelmed by the turn of events, she instantly grabbed killua’s hands and met him in the eye.

“whatever this is, you take him back to us.— please, bring him back to us. to me.” holding the silver-haired boy as she whispered the last words ever so lightly so that they wouldn’t hear her.

y/n could not puzzle what pakunoda said after that, she just felt her shoulders were pushed to the side and seeing pakunoda with the boys walking away while nobunaga had run to catch her falling body. one last thing she knew was reaching out to her little brother, her head feeling a little too light and went black out.

just as pakunoda and the kids finally arrived at their destination, she was instructed to switch both killua and gon with their leader at the same time. with a condition that chrollo, could never make contact with the spiders again nor even talk to them or else he would die due to a nen that was connected to his heart connected to the chain user’s ability, if broken he dies immediately. pakunoda thought that if the clown was here with them, he probably wanted to battle the leader, but no luck to him since chrollo can’t fulfill his wishes because he cannot use his nen.

the switch of hostages already made and the aircrafts are now high up in the air, pakunoda deeply burdened of what should she do best for the troupe and for the leader. looking below, she can see that indeed the clown’s intention was to get to the leader to face him alone. and with the last glimpse of the scene, staring blankly, she could only wish she knew what to do by then the time when she comes back to their hideout.

a frustrated hisoka was all chrollo got to deal with when he explained his circumstances. after the clown left, he could only think of one solution and that is to head where he was supposed to, to take out what’s in his heart, to take out that nen stuck to him. as he was in deep thought, a sudden image came into view. his love. his most important treasure of all.

what would she think. he thought.

would she wait for him until the time comes that they can finally reunite together?

would she try to find a way for them to meet whatever it takes?

would she just leave the relationship and the troupe instead of looking for him?

words and words came through chrollo’s head, their relationship was more concerning since they had a fight not just long ago and they have not talked about it yet.

he may not look like it, but y/n can testify how his lover takes good care of their relationship. how he takes care of her. how he takes care of his family in his own ways.

it was indeed the most impossible thing that has ever happened between them yet, but one thing chrollo is sure of. he plans of going to the east to dissolve the nen in him. he will come back to them, he will come back for his family, he will come home to her.

but, he never came back.

…or did he?

masterlist

comment for part 2?

not proofread; may contain grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.

side note: ik it has literally been a year since i last posted, school sucks since i’ve gotta lot of work to do. so here’s another au for yall coz i missed being here :33 xoxo

[auroralwriting]

Corporate heir!Bucky and childhood best friend!reader waking up in an unfamiliar hotel room (after a crazy night) to a bunch of congratulatory messages about their Vegas wedding that they don’t remember having happened at all

vegas lights

corporate heir!bucky barnes x reader

what the hell happened in vegas last night?

warnings: hangover, overall fluff and humor

it’s a little shorter than i normally write but i love it 🫶

The sound of the annoying ping of your phone was the first thing you heard when you woke up, and it was probably what woke you up in the first place. You didn't dare touch your phone yet. The room was still dark and you knew the light of your phone would kill your eyes.

It took a moment before it hit you, there was someone breathing next to you. No, not breathing, but sleeping. A quick glance and you saw it was Bucky.

Now, this wasn't super uncommon. Bucky and you had slept in the same bed before. Nothing sexual or weird, it just happened that during movie nights you both fell asleep. Totally normal for two best friends.

It took you another moment to realize you were just in a bra and underwear, which is when you freaked out.

"Oh my God, Bucky!" You cried, pushing him in the arm lightly. That motion was enough to make him jolt awake, clutching his head as he squinted.

"Jesus, what fuckin' time is it?" He groaned as he slowly sat up. It took him just about as long as you to realize he was almost naked. "And where the fuck are my clothes? Where are your clothes?"

You quickly pulled the sheet up and over your chest as you scooted back against the headboard. You hadn't even noticed your killer headache, causing your eyes to squint as you had to adjust to the pounding in your head.

"I don't know," You responded. "We got drunk."

"Yeah," Bucky chuckled bitterly, upset by his lack of memory and ache in his head. "No shit."

Bucky was quick to stand up, regretting the pace as he groaned. He groggily made his way around the room, picking up scrap pieces of clothing you both had left behind. He tossed you your shirt as he put on his own. "I think the pants are still in the covers." That didn't matter as much now that you both had on shirts. You were thankful for any clothing.

Your hand searched over the nightstand to search for anything you could take. Thankfully, your drunk self had left some pills for the morning. You passed a few over to Bucky who took them instantly, followed by you. He laid back down on the bed with a soft grunt. "I haven't been this hungover since I was freshly twenty-one."

"I think I remember that night," Bucky chuckled. "You threw up all over Sam."

You cringed at the memory, replaying it in your head. You had way too many shots, and they all ended up on Sam. It might have been the worst night of your life. "Don't remind me."

"You remember anything from last night?" Bucky changed the topic. He rubbed his forehead as his eyes furrowed, deep in thought. "I can't even remember where the fuck we are."

You thought on his words for a moment. Where were you? A few memories came back as you thought. You were celebrating, you'd been bar hopping in Vegas.

"Vegas," You replied, pursing your lips. "We were celebrating, uhm.."

"Dad said I was gonna run the company starting September." Bucky responded with a small nod. "We went out to celebrate that." Bucky smiled softly, remembering how excited he was.

Yeah, that was. right. Yesterday, Bucky's dad gave him the call he'd been waiting for since he was sixteen. After nearly double the time in waiting, Bucky was finally becoming the CEO of his father's company. He was ready to retire before the next big season. Bucky was beyond excited, and he suggested you all should go bar hopping to celebrate. Wait, all?

"Who else was with us?" You asked as Bucky searched the floor for any clothing. He threw you one of his long shirts and took one for himself. You quickly slid it on, now allowing the sheet to cover the remaining bare part of your legs.

"I think it was just the group," Bucky replied. He'd invited all your guys' friends to go, too. Where did they go?

It seemed like Bucky had the same question. He was brave enough to reach for his phone and turn it on. After a few moments, his reaction was not what you expected it to be.

"Why are they congratulating both of us?" Bucky murmured as you grabbed your phone.

You opened your messages app to see a load of messages from all your friends.

iMessage: 25+ unread messages

Natasha: Congrats you two, live it up 🎉

Steve: Have a great time tonight you two ;)

Tony: WHY DID I MISS THIS?! congrats tho

Sam: Don't get too wild tonight you freaks 🥵

Wanda: AJFAOGWEGJ !!!!!!!!

"What are they talking about?" You asked as you scrolled through the countless messages.

Bucky turned to you, clicking off his phone. "Let's piece it all together. We got to the bars, started drinking..."

"Okay, yes," You nodded, setting your phone down. "We went to Tito's, Smiley Ray's, Tavern T, and," You hesitated.

"Corkscrew!" Bucky clapped his hands loudly, making both of you cringe. "Okay, so we got to the last one. We were probably super drunk by then. What happened after?"

You felt your memorize return in a haze, a faded mesh of colors that seemed endless. You remember Bucky's hands all over you, not sexually, but in new, unexplored places for just two best friends.

That's when it hit you. You should've felt it sooner, but you were so hungover that it didn't properly register in your brain.

The ring that sat on your ring finger was dainty, small, just the way you liked it. It felt heavy, cool, and you could tell it was real. You held your hand out for Bucky to see.

"Hey, that's a pretty ring." Bucky casually mentioned. A moment later, his eyes almost popped out of his head. "Holy fuck, we got married!"

"No, no, I remember now," You began. "They were all making comments about how perfect we would be together, and-and we just ran with it!"

Bucky rubbed his face, "I must've picked that up on the way to wherever we got married."

"And Vegas marriages are very real," You sighed. "God, what are we going to do?"

"I mean," Bucky paused, shrugging as he grabbed your left hand, admiring the ring on your finger. "It's a pretty ring."

You felt your eyes nearly pop out of your head as he spoke. "Don't tell me you think we should stay married." The idea felt ridiculous. Sure, did you have a long-time crush on your childhood best friend? Yes. But did that mean getting drunkenly married was the way about it? Absolutely not.

"C'mon, doll. We aren't getting any younger. We're both successful people who both happen to be single." Bucky emphasized.

"Buck, I can't just marry you because of that. You don't even love me like that, we can't just be married because-"

Bucky cut you off in an instant. "Who ever said I don't love you like that?" You felt your heart stop at his words. It felt like the room that had previously been spinning from hangover suddenly paused. "Seriously, who said that?"

"You can't be serious," You half smiled, trying to convince yourself he was joking. "That's not a funny joke, Bucky."

"Doll, I'm not joking." Bucky said, inching closer to you. "I love you, and not like a best friend. I've been in love with you since the seventh grade."

You smiled lightly, "Try sixth grade."

With your words, he pushed himself closer to you. He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, holding it softly as he interlocked his lips with your own. It felt so delicate, so fragile, yet exploratory and hungry. His thumb caressed the back of your neck as you placed your hands on his cheeks.

"So, husband," You said as you pulled back. "Think we're gonna have a real wedding after this?"

Bucky chuckled as one hand moved to your waist, gently rubbing your hip. "Doll, I'm gonna give you a better wedding than you've ever dreamed of."

You hummed in contentment as you put your forehead against his, "I can't wait to marry you again."

[princessbrunette]

now how will team mascot jj approach u … elaborate

╭────── · · ౨ৎ · · ──────╮

so mascot!jj isn’t exactly a nerd, not by any extension of the meaning. infact, he’s a social butterfly, a novelty — people know him as the mascot guy and no one could ever replace him, the way he’ll run onto the field mid game and hype the audience up, somehow knowing the moves and joining the cheerleaders in some dances all whilst geared up in a giant tiger costume with the university’s logo on its colourful tshirt. the people liked him a lot.

you’re the shy cheerleader, and jj loves shy girls. he’s the opposite of shy, so it just makes his dick tingle a little. he approaches you after every game, hair sweaty and stuck up in unusual places with the head of his mascot costume tucked under his arm, cheeks all pink. you think he’s cute, in a cool yet dorky way. after a particularly great win, jj is quick across the field to see you. he’s of course bombarded with the barrage of cheerleaders who think he is ‘adorable’, kissing his cheek and ruffling his sweaty hair— because everyone loves the mascot guy.

“alright, alright, let me through ladies.” he chuckles awkwardly, peeling them off him as they aw, embarrassing him slightly. he waddles over to you with a bashful smile, trying to switch his game back on. “really shook those pom poms out there, girl.” he praises, cringing at himself.

“huh?” you giggle, eyes twinkling up at him— which didn’t help him much in getting back on track.

“yeah— uh, nah what i meant to say was you were… great, like dude — when you did that cartwheel? you killed that shit!” he celebrates and you beam, shaking your head humbly.

“really? thank you— i mean i thought it was a little shaky but…”

“you kiddin’ me? you were amazing, and — well,” he gestures to you with his giant paw. “you look amazing. really, like you’re gorgeous.”

you get shy, clasping your hands at your front as you shrug. “thank you j—”

the conversation is interrupted by the football team passing through— a kaleidoscope of jersey colours bursting through between the two of you until rafe cameron himself has arrived, looping you into a hug to celebrate his big win. jj’s face flattens in annoyance before scrunching up awkwardly, looking around and waiting for him to be done.

rafe glances at jj when he pulls away, keeping a hand on your waist. “lets get out of here, alright? too many nobodies.”

jj clears his throat. “yeah, uh— was kinda havin’ a conversation bro but whatever i guess. congrats.” he sarks, irritated making rafe turn back around, eyeing him up.

“oh, well — i’m really sorry about that tony the tiger.” rafe feigns innocence before bursting into a boyish chuckle, making the players around him laugh too. your brows furrow, going to say something but rafe drags you away, leaving you to twist in his grasp and give the blonde a polite parting wave. jj lifts his arm unenthusiastically in his own wave farewell, lips pressed together.

he’s sure he’ll get you alone another day.

╰────── · · ౨ৎ · · ──────╯

[twst-drabbles]

Soulmates AU: Idia

Summary: You were born with a run-on sentence for a soulmate mark on your arm, from wrist to shoulder. Now you finally met the man that utters these words by a trashcan.

(I was requested and wrote this long number. Over 4000 words all written within the span of four days. I wrote this for @twst-charity. Not gonna lie, pretty proud that I wrote this much in that span of time. Been a while since I could do that, though I did end up pulling a muscle in my neck. I hope this is a fun read. It's also on ao3 as well. Right here.)

The writings you were born with were practically illegible at birth. The font was rather fancy, overly so, and the words circled around from your wrist to your shoulder so tightly that your family was convinced it was a giant birth mark and not the words of your soulmate.

But you grew and so did the spaces in those words. It was a pretty spiral, but as age continued to feed you wisdom, you felt that this position was deliberate. Because, as far as you knew, this first sentence could very well be the ramblings of someone going mad or already is. But first words are hardly something to build assumptions on, especially when it comes to the subject of your soulmate.

These words covering your arm are about a fictional character named Alexius von Tuveria en Ris. Well, at least you hope it’s fictional. It’s kind of a silly name to give to a kid. And also you’re not exactly up for having a soulmate that’s this, uh, verbose and opinionated about an actual person. You’ve been exposed to the deeper parts of the celebrity fan culture and you’re good with staying far away from it.

…Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick…

That was only part of the sentence on your arm. Your soulmate, where ever they are, they sure do talk a lot. Like, a whole lot. You tried repeating the sentence on your arm in just one breath and you had to practice a few years just to get it right. Strong lungs on that one, probably.

And a whole lot of unique factors to help narrow down the pool of who is and who isn’t your soulmate. Alexius von Tuveria en Ris is a pretty unique name by itself. But, the uniqueness of it did return disappointment, since searching online for a character with such a name yielded no results. You made it a habit to search at least once a week or so, just in case it was a series that has yet to exist.

You were also sort of relieved to find out that there was no royal family with a similar name. Though, that still didn’t rule out the possibility. For all you know, this could be a fake name someone chose for themselves.

Either way, this name will come to exist at some point, someone or something will be Alexius von Tuveria en Ris, and you’d have to make sure to be on top of that.

But, then you couldn’t, because suddenly you found yourself in a place called Night Raven College. One minute you were living your regular life, and the next you found duty after duty from your “oh so kind” headmage with a cat that doesn’t learn to listen when he should.

It was… an adjustment certainly. The grating egos of everyone here, the casual and not so casual use of magic that can and will kill you if it hits you in just the right way, and large restrictions on your finances rarely left you with more than a few complaints, but all you could do was grit your teeth and trudge on.

At least, despite all of these annoyances and difficulties, there are some silver linings to the found here. Magic itself was something of a marvel to witness, you won’t lie to yourself about that. You will never say it out loud for anyone to head though, because you know the minute you do, people like Grim will gloat and unintentionally belittle you with a, “Well, something as simple as that would look amazing to you, huh?”

And out of a need to never hear those words uttered by anyone, you decided to use one of your privileges to lock yourself in the computer lab. It’s after curfew, so most of the students not in remedial classes are at their dorms by now.

Next to you were a couple of spiral notebooks, the blue one opened and already filled to the brim with notes about basic magic mechanics. Sure, you can’t do a single lick of magic as far as you can tell, but you don’t want to make the blunder of relying on your preconceived notions of it.

Though, as with all studying, even on a subject as interesting as this, your brain starts to fuzz up and suddenly you can’t even retain the current paragraph. Your eyes kept skimming over the same words over and over. Finally, you huffed and slumped back in your chair, setting your pencil aside.

Though, before you decide to call it quits and rest for the night, you felt one more search would be interesting. You pushed up your sleeve until you found the name of Alexius von Tuveria en Ris on your forearm, and typed that into the blinking bar.

Hehe, the name looked a little funny in this cutesy font this search engine uses. You weren’t expecting anything honestly. You’ve already cut your losses with meeting your soulmate young. You’ve had cousins and other distant relatives that haven’t met their soulmates until they were in their seventies. Knowing how that bird-brained Crowley works, you’ll probably return back home when you’re at least in your forties. Or fifties.

He’s really taking his sweet-ass time, huh?

Either way, you pressed enter and stretched. Nothing to come of it and nothing to lose with this simple search, right? You’ve already been through the phase of obsessively searching every day back when you were younger and had too much time. At this point, it does no harm to search at least once. You mean, why not?

But, it was a hit. Several pages of hits. At the top of the pastel blue search engine was Alexius von Tuveria en Ris in all bold. In fact, from the title of the website, you’d say it was an entire site dedicated to this character.

Here it was. The very thing you’ve searching for, waiting for, was right in front of your eyes.

You didn’t say anything, you just clicked. Paragraphs and paragraphs of detailed information about this person–a fictional character–laid before you. You nearly ripped your sleeve up your arm as you scrolled down the page, looking between the screen and your skin as you confirmed that what you’re reading is correct and not just a huge coincidence that’s made to make fun of you for having hope.

The name matches, the background of isolating himself in his castle matches, the huge blow out after attempting to revive his Kingdom of Paradise matches. All of it matches your arm.

You let go of the mouse, eyes burning from staring at a white screen with black text for too long, and just sat. You stared up at the ceiling…

…and quietly seethed.

For months you’ve been wanting to go back home, and often in the middle of the night, you’d find yourself wishing you never got transported here in the first place. Some part of you buried deep was starting to believe that you would never go home, and if you knew that the option of exploring a magical place came with the consequence of never going home, you never would have taken it.

But now your arm and this screen was telling you that you had no choice but to come here. That it was destined, preordained. No matter how hard you fought, you were going to be whisked away.

It… it sucked, you will admit that.

But you sighed out all the doubts and breathed in realistic optimism. You came here one way, there has to be a way out. It happened once, so it’s logical that it would happen again.

And so, with a light stretching of your sore fingers and wrists, you clicked and read as much information you can. Absorbing the series that’s apparently been running for a good twenty years with a handful of remakes and one live action that flopped on its face.

Before you know it, it was way past the dead of night and encroaching on morning. You took a minute to stretched and rub at your strained eyes before packing everything up. You’re going to regret doing all this in the morning, when classes start, but what can you say? You like living in the moment.

You walked out, locked everything up with the keys Crowley entrusted you with, and started down the path towards your dorm. Sure, you do have permission to use the mirrors on campus, but you’re pretty sure you need someone with magic to be able to use the thing. Or you probably don’t, for all you know, but you’re not in the mood to test the theory.

You found yourself on a cross section at the road that served as a nice resting spot before heading to Sam’s shop. It had a couple of fancy black benches with gaudy gold legs, a fountain so large you’re glad you don’t have to clean it, and a lot of foliage for that beautiful view and clean air.

With all these sights nicely lit by the evenly spaced lamps to take in, instead your eyes settled on someone that chose to huddle by a trashcan. You heard crinkling and, at first, you thought this person was riffling through the trash. You got closer, and while you can’t say you were wrong, the only thing in this man’s hands was a poster.

Then, finally, you were within earshot.

“And just when I found the perfect poster, I find it in a trash can of all things, wrinkled up and thrown away because some ignorant idiot thought this was only worth as much as a piece of paper,”

Kind a rambler huh? Sounds like he’s having a bad day. Or night. Should probably just leave him alone.

…

Hold on a moment.

You pulled up your sleeve.

“Couldn’t have the decency to give this limited edition poster back for people like me, who truly appreciate the series, to own, but no of course not, it would be inconvenient, horrible that they would wrinkle the main character’s Kingdom of Paradise that he’s always dreamed of, Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick–AH there’s a tear because of course,”

You were twisting your arm this way and that, making very sure that this random man’s rant actually matched your words. You almost pulled a muscle as he continued, eyes and neck straining to read the words on your shoulders.

You lost your balance and caught yourself just as the man before you stopped his rant with a huff.

Before he could possibly start again, you walked right behind him and said, “So you’re the dude that inked up my arm.”

Ah, you didn’t really have any special words in mind, like a lot of your classmates back in your younger days. Yes, you’re buzzing a little with excitement, but you’re so tired and drained from another emotional high that you’re in a fog. Besides, you already confirmed that this person’s your soulmate, whatever pops out of your mouth will be just as unique.

“Eep!” A high little squeak of a yelp. The student–his jacket held Ignihyde designs on it–retreated his arms to his chest, like he’s ready to either lash out or curl into a ball.

He would’ve fell backwards if your legs didn’t stop his fall.

“Whoops,” you pushed him to his feet with a hand to his shoulder, “sorry about that. You okay?”

Only then did he finally turn. His hood fell from his face and unleashed an absolute bonfire of hair. A luminous bright blue that almost blinded you.

And suddenly, his hair turned an almost violent mix of pink and purple.

He blinked, then his eyes flickered from your face to his wrist, where your words are. The man opened his mouth but his voice didn’t scream so much as it whistled before dashed to the left. He sped crawled on all fours for a moment before finding his footing.

This man, whom you would eventually find out to be called Idia, ran away upon first meeting you, his soulmate.

You weren’t offended in the least. You can understand that being seen mumbling like a maniac by a trashcan isn’t the best way to be seen by your fated soulmate. So, with that in mind, you didn’t search out for him for about three days.

By day four, you got impatient and decided to hunt down for Idia since he has not even left a hint hint about wanting to meet you. A week would’ve been the original waiting time, but this college really takes a toll on you and you just want this done before you get dragged into another magical situation.

The first day, you waited by a classroom you knew Idia attended. Well, Idia’s tablet. Being a housewarden and not a regular student, it’s rather easy to stumble upon information about him. Egocentric students love to gossip when it’s framed to either make their dorm or themselves look better.

You saw a peek of a magical tablet and grabbed without hesitation.

“Ha?” You heard clicking and felt the tablet attempt to leave your hands. You turned it around and faced the built in camera.

“Hey,” you greeted as causally as you could, “Idia, right? Met you a few nights before–”

Another click, and suddenly your entire vision went white with a flash of light. You dropped the tablet.

By the time your eyes went back to normal, the tablet was gone and you were alone again.

“So, that’s how it going to be, huh?” You’ve had your fair share of runaways. In fact, your little group was mostly made of them, running away for one reason or another, like not wanting to go to class, or avoiding cleaning duties for a mess they’ve made. This was not a new situation for you.

If Idia thinks he can run away from you forever, he has another thing coming.

The next day, you found the tablet floating in the library. You got a ladder to grab it from the bottom, but you weren’t quiet enough when you climbed it. The tablet floated right past your fingertips and dashed out the door with a “Sorry!”

Well, at least he apologized. But you still want to talk!

Another day passes and you found the man physically just as you were about to walk out the classroom. He had a stack of papers in his hands, late assignments he had to turn in physically if he wanted a chance at passing apparently. He didn’t see you, so you retreated behind the door.

When you saw Idia’s figure pass by the door, you popped out and grabbed his shoulder.

“Idia,” you firmly said with a tightening grip on his frozen shoulder, “we need to talk.”

And you were meet with a tower of papers to the face and he was gone before you dug through the pile.

By that point, you were ready and willing to start dragging your other friends into the mix. You let this skittish soulmate of yours to run off the first few times because you didn’t want to stress him out too much. But, by this point in time, it would be better to throw caution to the wind if only so you two can actually sit down and have a talk.

But, by the next morning, before you could meet up with everyone, a robot kid you recognize as Ortho shot out of the sky and landed with surprising grace. At the price of leaves and dirt flooding your mouth.

“There you are!” His voice was loud but it wasn’t grating. It was a cute kind of loud, like he was happy to see you.

You spat on the ground and leaned against a tree, still groggy from waking up. “Ortho, right? Hello. You need something? I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“To make a plan to catch my big brother right?”

His accuracy left you stunned.

“Uh.”

“Then, please come with me!” Ortho grabbed your arm and enthusiastically, “I keep telling my brother to suck it up and meet you, but he just won’t!”

“I know that,” you gritted your teeth, feeling like your shoulder will pop out of its socket, “Mind telling me where you’re taking me though.”

“I’m taking you to–” Ortho paused, floated behind you and grabbed your shoulder, “Hold on, this will be faster. We’re going to Ignihyde!”

“Wha–?” But you were forced to eat your words, just when it was finally free of all dirt and leaves.

And before you know it, you were gently placed on your feet in front of the Ignihyde dorm.

“Huh.” If you delete the last few minutes from your mind, you’d say it was a pretty enjoyable ride. Quick, at least.

“So, future soulmate of my big brother,” You’re pretty sure he knows who you are, you’re not exactly a quiet presence with that monster fire cat always around, “I have to do other things, so you just have to go down these paths and you’ll be in front of his room! Just make sure he doesn’t run away, okay?”

Ortho even gave you a little note that straight up looked printed. A clear map of where Idia’s room is.

“Well, thanks,” you turned around to properly face him but Ortho was already blasting off into the sky with a wave.

You huffed out a laugh, just because the whole interaction was ridiculous, and went on your way. You don’t really have early morning classes to be late to, anyway. You just came early to prepare for chasing after Idia.

As much as you would like to take the time to admire the hallways of the Ignihyde dorm, you’re too eager to get this meeting over with.

And then you’re finally in front of Idia’s room. You reach out to knock but the door pulls open, as though avoiding your knuckles. Idia was there, hood over his head like he was going to sneak around again like the first time you’ve met him. He spotted you in a second and slammed the door right in your face.

You waited a few minutes just to see if some miracle would happen and Idia opens the door on his own.

He didn’t.

“I’m not moving from here, if you’re wondering.”

You heard a sharp gasp and then a heavy, shaky, defeated sigh.

“…of course you’re not…” And then heard the slide of fabric against the door before a soft thud at the bottom.

He sat down, and so you got yourself comfortable as well.

“So,” you leaned back on your hands, “you’ve been running away from me.”

“I have…” and then under his breath like he thought you wouldn’t hear, “…any normal person would give up but of course my soulmate would be more stubborn than that…”

You whistled and that caught his attention with a gasp.

“Hey, focus on me,” you knocked on the door for good measure, “Why were you running? That first meeting could not have been that embarrassing.”

“Says you,” his next words came out muffled, like he’s shrinking into his hoodie, “Of all the days to meet you, you just had to see me right next to a trash can like I was some kind of degenerate rat. Anyone would think I was a loser of a freak, stroking that wrinkled poster like that. Well, I’m not! Only true fans would love this series as much as I do. So if anything, you were probably seeing me at my best moment!”

“Huh.”

You can practically hear Idia deflate from behind the door. “’Huh?’ You say… Yeah yeah, think what you want, I can’t even begin to change it.”

You… have a doozy of a soulmate huh?

“Certainly didn’t help that you were flash banged me, almost made me fall down a ladder and threw papers in my face.”

Idia shrank further. “…sorry…”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Sorry!” It was a burst of a yell and you had to back up a bit, “I was terrified alright?! I mean, I played all sorts of scenarios and even made a game to prepare for this moment. I had all these scripts in my head and I thought I was ready to trigger the romance flag alright?! But instead, I was stuck in my own head and completely missed it! I messed up and I panicked! You have any idea how scary that is?! You weren’t supposed to see me like that! I was supposed to be at max level by the time I met you but instead, I’m just this unevolved mess!”

You opened your mouth but Idia cut in.

“Fate is inevitable, just as death is… I was going to met you regardless and I guess, I thought, that maybe I had more time. But I didn’t. So I just, wanted you to stay away until I thought I was going to be ready… Ha, either way, it’s my fault…”

…alright, how are you going to handle this? You’re not exactly the best when it comes to emotional comfort.

Well, may as well just use what you already have on hand. Or on arm.

“Didn’t Alexius von Tuveria en Ris think he was ready to rule his kingdom when he brought it back from the ashes?”

You heard a sputter. You continued.

“I mean, the dude was kind of young wasn’t he? Well, not like it matters, he brought it back and someone had to rule it whether he liked it or not.”

Then, you heard Idia actually honk. “No, that’s not what happened! Alexius von Tuveria en Ris wanted to bring back the Kingdom of Paradise not because he thought he was fit to rule it but because he thought it didn’t deserve that fate. It’s not his fault that he was put in that position when he brought it to life!”

Ah, there we go. Switching the subject, your best skill!

You egged him on. “But shouldn’t he have been prepared for that, then? The series did say that he likes to prepare for every thing imaginable because it was a kingdom he was reviving.”

“What the–that’s stupid! He can’t see the future! No matter how much he reads or writes, there’s no way he could’ve predicted that! And even if he did, it wouldn’t have mattered! He couldn’t have stopped the tragedy anyway!”

“Oh that’s right!” you clapped your hands, “Thanks for reminding me. Totally slipped my mind.”

“As long as you know. I hate it when people don’t pay attention.”

Huh, he sounds huffy. That’s cute.

“Sorry, it’s kind of hard to remember with all the stuff that happens in the latest Red Sky Arc, where Alexius just–”

You heard a hard slam against the door. “No spoilers! I haven’t gotten to that arc yet!”

You closed your mouth, almost biting your tongue in the process.

A few seconds, then a minute, and then you burst out laughing.

Idia, meanwhile, was stunned. “W-what? What did I do?”

“No no,” you relaxed, “that’s just the loudest you’ve been.”

“I… I guess that was a bit too loud.” The tone in his voice made him seem bashful. “But I’m seriously not at that part yet. I don’t want to get a head start just yet.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my mouth shut then.” You pushed yourself up and dusted your pants. “I think I’ll be taking my leave here. Don’t want to bother you too much. I just needed to hear an apology and an excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

You turned around, stuffing the map Ortho gave you into your pocket. “See you later, Idia.”

“Wait!” The door slammed open. You turned around.

Idia’s hair was pink at the tips, but at least he didn’t look like he was going to explode. He did look like he was going to collapse though. Poor man looked out of breath.

“I-I,” the pink began to climb upwards the longer he looked at you, “I, uh, I happen to have that season downloaded… on my PC… so if you want to, you know, update your out of date stuff then, maybe you could, you know… watch it with me?”

His head practically disappeared in his hoodie and hair, but you heard him clear enough.

You could tease him, but you don’t know each other well enough so…

You nodded, “Sure, I have time. A lot of time actually.”

That one is a bit of a lie, but you just want to spend time with Idia. You have a number of excuses on hand anyway. You’ll send one off right before settling down.

“Huh? Oh, uh” Idia moved to the side, holding the door like it’ll protect him from his feelings, “C-come in then.”

You stepped inside.

[suprababka]

How you first met & how they asked you out on a first date (part 3)

Featuring:

• Flashy Flash • Zombieman • King

[Saitama & Genos & Speed-o'-Sound Sonic: part 1] [Garou & Metal Bat & Amai Mask: part 2]

A/N: Merry Christmas! Thank you everyone for reading what I do and supporting me, it means a lot. I always do my best to make you guys happy because I really appreciate all of you. As some of you can remember, I've already mentioned a few times my first post with headcanons, and here it is! Finally, after all this time, I can present it to you as a gift for Christmas!🎄💫🎊🎉

(I hope I didn't mess anything up, and I'm sorry for being a bit late! I really wanted to publish this post sooner but couldn't. We don't celebrate Christmas in my country btw) Unfortunately, I had to split up post into 3 parts :((( Alright, let's see if you guys like my headcanons! :) (I low-key cringe at them tbh)

And dear anons, who requested headcanons, do not worry! I remember about you and will post everything, I just wanted to have a logical "begining" for hcs, you know?

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist too see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

You live in a world where a monster attack can happen anywhere and at any time

It sounds terrifying, but that's a part of your and everyone else's life

The government with the Hero Association did a pretty good job at keeping civilians safe and sound

For example, you've never seen a real monster before, only on TV

And it's not like you have a goal of witnessing one in real life, but still

You always feel safe

Even now, when you're walking back home from watching a movie with your friends all pretty and preppy

Suddenly, you hear a woman's cry, "A-a-ah! Somebody, help! There is a monster, a-a-h!!"

Your heartbeat unimaginably increases

You freeze, not knowing what to do due to fear

Where is this woman? Why is there no alarm of a monster attack? Where are heroes? What do you do??

It feels like the woman is screaming right next to your ear, but you're all alone on the street – everyone else has already run away

You peek around the corner and see a woman at the end of the alley trapped between the monster and a wall

She has nowhere to run

And the monster? It's the same size as a regular human, looks like a normal man besides its leather, dark green skin, and huge claws

Wolf level threat, no more

But still terrifying

The monster doesn't know you're here, so you can use a chance to run past it unnoticed and leave the poor lady behind

Or you can help her somehow

Try to call the Hero Association? The monster will hear and kill you

Run away out and only then call them? It might be too late for that, the monster will kill this woman, and who knows when heroes will arrive

But on the other hand, it's not your fault she got into the trouble in the first place, right? And you don't owe anything to her

In fact, you actually are not obliged to help her

There is no shame in trying to save your own life

So yeah, it's better to just run

As you run past them, you suddenly stop yourself

No, you're not like this, you were raised differently

You'll help this woman, it's settled

It should take a good smack at the monster's head to knock it out

After that, you just have to run

You got this

Feeling determined and giving into an adrenaline rush, you take a metallic trash can lid and start quietly approaching the monster

It's focused on the woman, and the lady herself doesn't see you

You manage to quietly approach the monster and hit its head with all your strength, making the disgusting creature stumble and wince in pain

"Run! RUN!" you command the woman who doesn't waste a second and immediately starts running away with you

But as you're about to turn around the corner to get back on the street, you suddenly fall, feeling pain in the shin of your right leg

You try to stand up but fail

You look back and notice that monster somehow injured your leg

How? It wasn't even close to you

You look at the creature and see that not only did it get even bigger, but its eyes literally burned with anger, and a few sharp tentacles came out of his back

The monster approaches you, growling loudly

You scan the area to find something that can help you fight with monster

And for the first time in your life, you're grateful for drunk heads who leave their empty beer bottles on the streets

You grab the glass bottle and throw it directly at the monster's face

While the creature winces in pain, you try to make a run for it

But the only thing you can do is just pathetically crawl away

Meanwhile, the monster extends its arm to grab or attack you

You instinctively close your eyes

That's it

That's how you die

What a sad death

At least you saved that woman

...

Nothing happens

It's peaceful, quiet...

... or not

Suddenly you hear water splashing, something heavy falling... and heels clicking?

You open your eyes and find yourself in the same alley, lying on the ground

And the monster is gone?

What is left of it are big pieces and splashes of its blood

No way, you were saved!

But by whom?

"It's alright, you're safe now," you hear a man's voice next to you

You glance up and see S-class hero, Flashy Flash!

(the hero you worship so much)

"I... Thank you! You saved my life!!!"

He just nods and points to your injured leg, "Let me see it."

"Huh? Ah, yeah, sure..." you let your saver examine your wound

You're quite surprised to see this side of Flash

(and the hero himself too, of course)

As far as you're concerned, Flashy Flash is known for his stoic demeanor and immediate disappearing after defeating monsters

Quite the contrary of what you're witnessing now, to be exact

But maybe these are just rumors?

"It got near your nerve. Just a little bit more, and you'd practically lose your foot. You're lucky."

"And lucky enough to be saved by you, huh?"

He chuckles, "Yeah, lucky you."

Ah, his small smile... what a rare and adorable sight

He looks more humane with it

"Your smile really suits you. You should smile more," you comment, without thinking

Flash gives you a strict look, his smile drops

"I don't smile. I should take you to the hospital so they could treat your leg there."

With these words, he scoops you in his arms and starts carrying you to the hospital

(he doesn’t even look at you, his eyes are fixed on the road ahead of you)

As he steps out of the alley onto the street, his grip on you tightens

"Hold tight, it's gonna be a fast ride, but not a pleasant one for you."

"Huh, wha-"

Suddenly you feel a strong force pressing you into Flash

And the world around you spins in a strange way

A few moments later you find yourself in the hospital

Yeah, they didn't lie in media that Flashy Flash had inhuman speed!

"Oh…"

"You alright?"

"Y-yes, a bit nauseous, but overall, I'm okay."

"Yeah, others said that my speed was a bit overwhelming for them too."

Others? Ouch

Of course he saved many people before you

Why did you think you were special in the first place?

A gush of surprised whispers fills the hospital hall: "Oh my god, is that Flashy Flash?!", "Who is that girl?", "A-ah, he is even hotter in person!", "I wish it was me…"

To avoid further gossip, you address the S-class hero, "Um, you can put me down. There is no need to carry me anymore…"

"Your leg is injured badly. It's better for you not to put pressure on it."

With these words, he finally takes you to the receptionist

As they register you, you realize that soon enough Flashy Flash will go

(and you probably will never see him again)

"Thank you," you begin. "I'm really grateful that you saved my life and took me to the hospital. Most heroes would just go straight away."

Flash doesn't answer you immediately, staring into the distance as if he's considering something

"Usually I'd walk away too," he finally says, his gaze falling on you. "But… Something made me not to. ..I guess it's your bravery. Not everyone has the guts to fight back a monster. You handled it rather well."

"Uh, thanks, but… You watched me instead of saving?"

"…"

"It doesn't matter. What I wanted to say is... you're a fighter, and I respect that."

You can't really follow what he's trying to say

"Thank you, it means a lot."

"Do you know what else means a lot?"

"…No?"

"You made me smile. That's what."

"But you said you don't smile?.."

He chuckles, "That I did. However, it'd be stupid of me to ignore the fact that I act differently towards you. I'm not known for my altruism towards other people, you know. So you can count yourself special."

???

"And I'd like to talk to you more… but under different circumstances next time."

"Really?"

"Yes. Why would I say that if I didn't mean it?"

"I just didn't expect that."

"Neither did I. But here we are."

"And to answer your question, I'd like to spend time with you too."

He smirks, "Correct answer."

Meanwhile, the receptionist finishes registering you and calls nurses

"It looks like you're about to get treated."

"Yes, thank you again for helping me."

The S-class hero chuckles again, "I'm not going anywhere now. And I can't just leave my date, can I?"

"Huh?" you only manage to raise your eyebrows before nurses lay you on the hospital bed and start carrying you to a doctor

Fortunately, your injury isn't serious

You just need to bandage your leg, put some ointment on it, and try to walk less in the next three days

After that, you're free to go (literally)

Turns out that Flashy Flash was awaiting you the whole time, like he promised

Moreover, he takes you to your place

(to make sure that you'll be safe and won't strain your leg)

But due to another monster attack somewhere else, all you manage to do is exchange your contacts before S-class hero speeds away to do his job

Damn, what an evening, right?

Bonus:

Flashy Flash accidentally runs into you and the monster

For some strange reason, there is no alarm nor no alert from HA, telling there is an attack

Maybe because you're a hero who is here to save the day (evening, actually)?

But judging by your appearance and your desperate attempts to defeat the monster, you’re a regular citizen

But he'll be damned, you have a strong will

Flashy Flash doesn't really know what amazes him in you more: the way you stand up for yourself or your beauty

Wait, what? Amazes?

Flashy Flash doesn't feel amazed by someone. He is the amazing one

He examines the wound on your leg

That's strange, Flashy Flash usually doesn't check victims of monster attacks

And moreover, he doesn't get all "buddy" with them

"Your smile really suits you. You should smile more."

What?

He smiled???

…

No, he doesn't smile

…

…

…

But why do you feel so good, so right in his arms?

No way, does he really... like you?

But Flashy Flash doesn't get attached to anyone, he is all by himself

Or he thought so

As much as the S-class hero wants to stick to his bachelor image, he realizes he actually can't

"…Most heroes would just go straight away."

He would too

And yet, he didn't

Maybe it's time for Flash to stop being so prideful and accept the fact that he has a soft spot for you?

That he hates seeing you in pain

That he doesn't want you to be scared ever again

That he wants to hold you more, to spend more time with you, to protect you

But how exactly?

… Maybe it's time after all

Ah, it doesn't matter, does it?

He's a straightforward man, so he'll just tell you how it is

Besides, it'll be your loss if you reject him

As he starts explaining his feelings to you, he notices that it's kind of hard for him to do this

Ah-oh, Flashy Flash isn't used to talking about this stuff

And why is he a bit nervous all of a sudden?

All his confidence comes back when you return his feelings

Of course you feel the same, how did he even doubt that?

When Flash sees you home, both of you think that it's a great opportunity to get closer to each other at your place

Buuuuut, unfortunately, S-class hero has to come back to his work

So for now you settle for exchanging your numbers and promising each other to talk later

And off he goes

Maybe it's a good thing that you have to postpone your date

It means Flashy Flash can take you out to a nice place when it'd be convenient for both of you

(and when your leg will be healed)

Yeah, sounds like a plan

What is one of the best ways to treat yourself after having a bad day or, vice versa, keep up your good mood?

Correct, going to your favourite cafe and ordering a drink with dessert that you like so much!

Today is your lucky day since there are only a few costumers

Soon enough, you take your order and get ready to go on with the day

Maybe it's just a wrong moment and wrong time, or you just turned too suddenly

But you bump into someone and spill all of your drink other them

How embarrassing

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!!"

"Don't worry, it happens..."

Your hands automatically take tissues and start trying to dry the liquid off their clothes

As you press the cloth against their stomach, you feel their rather pumped-up abs

And their body is rather cold too, comparing to human standards

Suddenly you realise what you're doing and stop

You feel like you're burning from embarrassment

"Sorry! I..."

You look up and see...

S-class hero Zombieman!

As if it couldn't get any worse

"Uh... It's alright", he takes your hands in his and gently pulls them away

Silence falls as he lets go of your hands

You notice that not only his shirt is stained, but there is also a huge wet spot across his white coat

Uh-oh...

"I'm really sorry... How can I make up for that?"

Zombieman scratches his neck and shrugs

"Hey, accidents happen, I understand that. It's kind of my fault too, I should have been more careful as well."

"I'm really embarrassed. So at least let me wash your clothes, please?"

"There is no need to. The Hero Association provides me with– On the second thought, you know what? If it helps you to feel better, you can wash my clothes."

"I... Thanks, I will!"

"Great. Then, if you don't mind, I'll give you my clothes later because I don't have spare ones. Do you have any plans for this evening?"

"Nope, I'm gonna be at home."

Both of you make plans to meet each other in this cafe and exchange your contacts

And after that, you go your separate ways

As you're doing your stuff at home, you still can't really believe your encouter with your favourite S-class hero, Zombieman

You always felt like there was a wall between heroes and civilians

But in reality, "protectors" are regular people too

Just like you, your family and friends

Yeah, it's an evident thought, but still...

Suddenly you get a message

It's Zombieman telling you that he's ready to give you his clothes

Your meeting with hero goes rather... simple?

Both of you just greet each other and then go your separate ways

Kinda disappointing

On the other hand, you'll meet with him again

You spend rest of the evening cleaning and drying hero's clothes off

When the next day comes, you text Zombieman and both of you agree to meet each other at the cafe

As you pack his things, a certain idea comes to your mind

You take a small piece of paper and write down your number with the text "I'd happy to talk to you again ;)"

You fold the note and put it in the pocket of the hero's coat

Then you realise something: he already has your phone number, so there is no necessity in it, right?

Or maybe there is in case he deletes it?

And maybe you should also write your name?

Maybe it'd be better to rewrite your text?

And to redrew the smiley face just to make sure it doesn't look creepy?

Argh, why is it so hard???

And it's already time for you to head out...

You finally make the decision to just write the phrase without your phone number

After folding a new piece of paper into Zombieman's coat, you finally head out to the cafe

Much to your disappointment, your meeting with the hero goes just like the previous one

However, the man gives you a small gift: a pack of your favourite small cakes

Now that's a pleasant surprise

You thank him and after that, an awkward silence stands between you

Zombieman clears his throat first and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out

Finally, he says good-bye to you and goes back to his hero work

As for you, you go back to your home

You're not quite sure what you're feeling

On one hand, you're worried that your favourite hero is not interested in you and you'll look stupid with your note

On the other hand, he did give you a gift

It must mean something, right?

You make tea for yourself and unpack cakes

As you start enjoying your treats, you notice a piece of paper

You take and unfold it

The text on the note says: "Hey, I'd really like to get to know you better. You already have my phone number, so text me if you feel the same :)"

You can't believe it

Zombieman IS interested in YOU

Oh my goooood

You immediately open your chat with Zombieman and start composing a message

Suddenly you get a new text from him, saying: "Hey, I read your note. I guess great minds think alike, huh? ;)"

A smile appears on your face and you type him back

Just like that, you spend the rest of the day texting with Zombieman

He asks you out

And of course you agree to go on a date with him on the next day in the cafe that you both like so much

Bonus:

Zombieman has a particular cafe where he likes to drink his coffee

And sometimes he spends time with Child Emperor there

He also notices a beautiful girl who visits this place regularly and takes her favourite pack of cakes and drink

Some time later, Zombieman realises that he subconsciously starts searching for you and wants to talk to you

He's attracted to you

Every time he runs into you and wants to start a conversation, he suddenly gets nervous

Now Zombieman is a calm man and he doesn't get nervous easily

So yeah, it means he likes you

One day he finally gets courage to talk to you and walks up to you

As he is about to say something

(he doesn't really know what to say in the first place)

You suddenly turn, bumping into him and spilling all your drink on him

Well, this is awkward

But the hero doesn't get mad because he understands that it's his fault too

When you start apologising and offering your help, he doesn't accept it in the begining

But then a thought that he could meet you again comes to his mind

And in the end, he agrees to your help

While you were washing his clothes, he was thinking about ways to ask you out

Zombieman wants to do it personally when you'll give him back his clothes

But he knows that he'll get nervous again

(that's why your meetings weren't full of small talks and conversations)

So he decides to settle for a backup plan: write a note and put it into the box with your favourite cakes

When you give him back his clothes, he feels like he finally has courage to ask you out

But Zombieman feels like something stuck in his throat and can't say anything

Well, it's a good thing he left a note, isn't it?

After meeting you, he puts on his cleaned coat and puts hands in the pockets

Suddenly he feels something in his pockets

It's a small note from you

A smile forms on his face as he reads it

Zombieman has nothing to worry about now

... Or so he thought

Asking you out was one thing, but spending time with you was another

The funny thing is that you didn't even know about hero's nervousness because he seemed calm as never before on your date

You love playing different viedogames

Online-shooters, horrors, RPG, life simulators, graphic novels, and even otome games...

Anyway, you weren't a person who had a lot of online- friends, despite the fact that you spend a lot of time in games

But one day you actually met a dude with the nickname "King"

Rather simple and rather "loud"

You first thought it was some guy who highly thought of himself

But while playing with him in the same team, you realised that he was cool

Moreover, you started playing together and even talking to each other

Soon enough, you were practically inseparable best friends, as you'd chat 24/7 about everything

You started feeling like you were soulmates

He's like your other other half

However, you two never thought spoke of meeting each other in real life

Today is the day you both were waiting for

A new awesome online game is out!

Both of you agreed to buy it today and play together in the evening

You step into the shop and start searching for the game among the showcases and shelves

But it's not here

You walk up to assistant and ask him about this game

Turns out, a package of game discs is still not in the shop, but it'll arrive soon enough (10-15 minutes)

Assistants suggest waiting and sitting down

You sit down near a tall man who is wearing a cap, face mask and sunglasses and is doing something in his phone

Weird, but okay

You suddenly get a text from "King"

"Loool, they still don't have the game in the shop"

"Bruh, really? I was about to text you the same. They say that package should arrive in 10-15 minutes. What about you?"

"Same here🤝"

"It'd be funny if we're talking about the same shop😆"

"I know, right?😁"

Suddenly you hear how the man chuckles

Both of you glance at each other quickly and then awkwardly get back to your phones

"Haha, I was texting you when suddenly a man laughed. It was unexpected, but funny😄"

As you send your text, you get a message from "King" in instant

"I've just chuckled at ur message and a girl, sitting near me, looked at me like I did something unacceptable💀"

What a coincidence

"Looool"

"Dude is also wearing a cap and sunglasses with a cap🌚"

"Hey, don't judge him, I'm wearing the same🥲"

"The same..?👀"

You glance up from your phone and look at the man who is looking right back at you

3... 2... 1...

"King?"

"Y-y/n, is that you?"

You excitedly chuckle

"It's really you, bro! Damn, you didn't lie about being tall!"

Both of you start eagerly talking to each other

"Damn, you're S-class hero King as well. Yeah, you're definitely a catch!"

You always feel comfort while talking to King and even dare to flirt with him

You've already accepted the fact that you have feelings for him

And you're almost sure he feels the same by the way he talks to you and flirts with you as well

(though most of his pick-up lines suspiciously sound like they were taken from some omance games or manga)

You don't notice how the time passes and the game package arrives

Despite your protests, King buys the game not only for himself but also for you

In order to make up for that, you suggest going to some cafe

King agrees to eat out but still ends up paying as he wants to be a gentleman

You pout as you feel awkward about this and start nagging King about making up for all of this

"Please, King! I'm embarrassed that you paid for everything! How can I make up for that?"

"You can make up by going out with me."

He smirks pleased, but then his eyes widen and his mouth is agape

"I-I..."

"King, were you serious right now?"

A glimmer of hope fills your chest

"I mean... Yes. I did."

You exhale with relief

"Really? I'd love to!"

Now it's King's turn to let out sigh of relief

Both of you can't believe that this day is real

As for the date, King said that he'd take care of it and tell you when and where you'll go

(yeah, your trip to the cafe today didn't count as a date)

Bonus:

King is just like you: spends a lot of time in games but doesn't have many friends there

And when you appear in his life, he actually gets happier and wants to play and chat with you more

The gamer also develops feelings for you rather fast but is scared to even hint on them

(not to mention, to see you in person)

What if you don't like him and he'll ruin your friendship? What if you won't like his looks if you meet in real life?

But when you start flirting with him, he gets more confident and flirts with you as well

(thanks to the manga he read and games he played, he had some pick-up lines in his sleeve)

When it turns out that you and King are in the same shop, he feels excited and terrified at the same time

Excited to see you

You're so gorgeous

And afraid that you won't like him and stop your communication with him

Thankfully, you eagerly spend time with him and even suggest eating out together

It means something, right?

He also insists on paying for everything because he really wants you to enjoy his company

Both of you have a great time together, telling different stories, laughing and flirting

So when you ask him how can you make up for spending money on you, he doesn't really know what to answer

Because every cent spent on you is worth it

(not that he minds paying for you in the first place)

Damn, he has fallen for you hard

He remembers how he'd rehearse how he's ask you out on a date

And the phrase "You can make up by going out with me" leaves his mouth smothly as if he's at home and says it to the mirror

But then the reality hits him

Should he take his words back? Or is it too late?

No, he decides that it's time to ask you out

Fortunately, you agree

Wow, he's never been happier before

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXVIII. “eleventh hour”

parts: previous / next

plot: witnessing the breaking of Bruce, your desperation reaches new heights.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, mention of suicide, description of panic attack/psychosis, light gore, angst, hurt/comfort, ableism (internalized; ‘crazy’ etc.), manipulation/lying

words: 8.8k

a/n: if you do not wish to read this, I will post a blurb at the front of the next chapter to summarize what happened in this one so you can still follow along. this is the last chapter for a while to talk about it explicitly.

prev. chapter summary (XXVII): You visit Bruce at Arkham, and share a tender moment. Bruce is moderately injured. Dr. Crane explains to you the protocol for interacting with patients who experience schizophrenia or psychosis, including not directly engaging with their delusion. Bruce remembered a powerful, owl-like creature attacking him, but it was ruled a suicide attempt. Bruce visits your apartment after his hold ends, where he tells you he didn't try to kill himself. Frustrated at not being believed, Bruce leaves, with no intention of getting medication or therapy.

In the afternoon you awoke, even more upset than the night before. Sleep allowed the weight of your task to internalize—you nearly passed out peeking at the news on your phone, fully anticipating news of his death—though you found nothing, the fear wasn't alleviated. A look at Scypher proved no one knew he'd been to Gotham General or Arkham, either. As day crept into night, you found yourself pacing about your apartment. Your mind's current fixation was on whether or not you should go to Alfred, and if so, whether to leave now or later. Now would increase the odds of Bruce seeing you, probably as he donned the suit and left the tower for another shift; that could leave him agitated. Leaving later would increase the odds of danger finding you, make it a sketchy Uber driver or chancing a walk across town in the total dark; neither option bode well, but there was no chance you would stay here. Every tick on the clock felt like a drop of blood spilling out of Bruce.

You paid extra for Uber Luxe, hoping that might decrease your chance of being assaulted or beheaded. Your taser sat thick in your sweatpant pocket, jostling with every step. You'd given the driver instructions to drop you off a block before Wayne Tower grounds, at the last convenience store. The drive was unfortunately short, leaving little time to plan what you wanted to say. Alfred would likely still be awake, waiting up for Bruce who was ever so ungrateful to have someone waiting and praying for his safe arrival.

Walking up the grounds was ominous; this wasn't what you thought a celebrity's house would be like, and you cringed thinking of him that way. There were no overlording guards, security staff peppering the outskirts, or someone watching the door. It was empty, quiet, and dark. The steps to the main entryway were broken concrete. The door was thick wood, double the height of a regular door, and equally wide. When you knocked it hardly made a sound.

The door opened without fanfare, the only sound the echoing creak of the door hinge bleeding into the foyer. Alfred's eyes brightened momentarily, and only slightly, at your arrival. He gave a watery grin and stepped aside for you to come in. "Miss Y/N. Master Bruce told me you visited at Arkham." You were struck by how different he seemed; his previously warm, jolly demeanor was replaced with all-encompassing fatigue, dread swaddling him with a sweaty blanket. "If you want to check on him, I'm afraid he's out." He walked to the unlit kitchen and grabbed a glass from the counter, drawing water from the sink before taking a gulp. His hand rested on his waist, his head facing the ground as he sucked his teeth. He rubbed his eyes.

You shut the door behind you, crossing your arms round your waist. "He looked pretty beat up."

Alfred gave a solemn nod. "Did they tell you what happened?"

You reciprocated. "About his great grandfather too." You paused. "Doesn't seem like he believes it."

The sigh the man heaved could've moved mountains. "I've tried to get through to him." His voice cracked. "Only seems to make him more resentful." He laughed hollowly.

Your heart hurt for Alfred. Maybe you'd only scratched the surface and the old man was some abusive piece of shit, maybe Bruce was perfectly right to disregard him, maybe it was all a show, but from what you'd experienced with Bruce, he seemed unwilling to consider his impact on others, not the other way around. "Did he seem worked up at all?"

Alfred, though exhausted, easily sniffed out your not-so-subtle attempt at gathering info. "I see—the psychiatrist brought all hands on deck." He'd wondered why you'd visited; it was hard to believe that Bruce would have asked for you, even if he'd wanted you. The boy hadn't even asked for him—though that could've been his altered consciousness after the attempt, or shame, embarrassment. On a good day the boy was tough to crack. He hadn't heard a thing about you since your leaving the mansion in the spring.

When Alfred got the call he panicked, quite literally dropping what he was doing to rush to him, but it was when he was pulled into a private room with the doctor that his heart shattered. How alone did Bruce feel? How isolated, lonely, and helpless had he felt? That night when Bruce arrived home from Arkham he'd had a long, heartfelt, one-sided conversation with him while they waited for his med timer to go off. He went on about whether Bruce would attempt again, and how Alfred could help prevent that. Bruce averted his eyes and listened, for a while. Eventually he stood with dewy eyes and told him he hadn't done it. The ensuing argument was steeped in desperation from both sides; Alfred hadn't slept a wink since. He checked on the boy every half hour as he slept and hadn't left his general vicinity until he slunk off in the suit.

"You know him best." The hallway cast an echo to your words. "Do you think there's anything you or I could do, or say? To make him get help?"

Alfred's laugh startled you. "That's precisely the issue, Miss. Bruce has an unforceable hand." He set the glass down, body tense. "He has to want it for himself. And he doesn't." The way he planted himself into the dining chair had you wonder if the sink wasn't actually filled with vodka. It almost looked like Alfred had given up. It pissed you off—not at the sorrowful man before you, but at Bruce. If your mom had begged like that, you wanted to believe you'd try something. This path of destruction he was on...

He interrupted your fuming. "Is that why you paid him a visit, to convince him to seek help?"

You nodded but his back was turned. "Yeah. Dr. Crane seems to think I can get through to him. No idea how. Said I was the last point of contact."

He huffed. "At this point anything's on the table." So maybe he hasn't given up hope... or maybe he truly sees no scenario where Bruce makes it out.

Footsteps sounded from the shadowy hallway at the back of the kitchen and before you knew it, Bruce arrived in the suit. His black eyeshadow had smeared at the edges. The cowl hung in his left hand.

"Master Bruce,"

His voice was terse, still hoarse. "What's she doing here? Did you call her?" He strode past Alfred in the kitchen to rip open the fridge and grab an apple. God, you wanted to scream. As he moved toward the elevator, you nearly flew off the handle at the combination of his back facing the two of you and his disgruntled sigh. With how fast he was escaping, that rage was unable to be tempered in time for a measured response. "So you're gonna act like I'm not here?"

He stopped but didn't look back. "I asked him a question."

"I didn't call her, Bruce." He rubbed his temples, a migraine forming. Alfred sighed and excused himself to grab an aspirin upstairs. Bruce kept forward. His stomach twisted into knots seeing you here again—intrusive, meddling, righteous. He took massive care to avoid limping.

The scene was poetic: Bruce disdainfully walking away while his butler (and only guardian) went to medicate for a stress-induced ailment. Metal clanking signified his nearing departure and you snapped. "Do you see how much you're hurting him?"

That was the single most aggravating and entitled thing you did: pretend you had any damn idea who Alfred was or had even a crumb of knowledge about their relationship. He spun around. "You know nothing about him—"

"I know he's exhausted and miserable waiting on you, he's alone in the kitchen at 10 pm with his goddamn head in his hands—"

"I told him he doesn't have to worry."

You could've laughed, but your body wouldn't let you. "You are genuinely risking your life, how the hell are we not supposed to worry?"

His eyes flashed at your pronoun choice. "You're ridiculous to think you're in any alignment with him."

"Are you?"

He stepped out of the elevator, his chest thick with tense breathing. "You don't know when to stop talking, do you?"

You shot an icy glare. "Is that a threat?"

He snarled. "Observation."

Heat rose to your cheeks for reasons you couldn't yet decipher. The longer he stayed arguing with you the less time he'd have for seeking behavior, but you had to toe the line. He was getting too riled up. "We-I just want you to be safe."

He stared at you for a good few seconds, trying to do a temperature check. You were hard to read. Ever since you'd come back he'd been decidedly disappointed in your intermittent composure. These glimmers of bite made him feel curiously alive, in ways both delightful and infuriating. "You got what you wanted from me. Why are you still here?"

It was like he was ignoring you on purpose; like he hadn't cried into your touch a day prior, like he couldn't fathom if he had been successful, Alfred would be planning a funeral right now. You shrugged, your chest procuring an exasperated sound to accompany it. "Do you not know how serious this weekend's been, or do you not care?"

He paused only briefly, enough for him to shoot a dagger stare. "It's not serious in the way you're painting it."

"Can you suspend your disbelief just a moment?" Please. Please. Please. You began to sweat.

"I could say the same to you."

You were losing him, you knew it. Whatever thin string tied you to him was threatening to sever. You opened your mouth but he cut you off, knowing if he gave you space to speak he would implode. "I know what I saw." His hands flexed in and out of fists, trying desperately to metabolize the stress, to temper the helpless rage bubbling in his stomach.

No idea what to say and at an utter loss, you stood and looked at him. The moon only lit up your half of the kitchen. The air was tense and brittle as ice. Dr. Crane's voice was a subtle pulse cocooning every sentence you thought you might say. "I know you saw that, I believe you."

His jaw set. He responded with a colossal eye roll and scornful jeer. "You don't believe it happened, you believe I experienced it."

Your voice lost its gusto, your mind going blank. "I don't know what else to say."

"Say nothing. It's not needed." He moved to turn and you reflexively tossed a lasso.

"You're needed; who will protect Gotham?" You paused too long in the middle there.

He cackled—a jarring, unsettling sound in the chilled air. "There's no line you won't cross."

Fuck. You wanted to stomp your foot, and throw a tantrum to shake the house; this visceral experience of exasperated compassion fuzzed your restraint. "No line you won't ignore."

He stopped turning and scowled, his voice devastatingly cutting. "Says the person loitering."

He needed to know how serious this was; all arrows pointed in one direction. "If you'd been successful, we wouldn't even be t—"

"I didn't do it!" It was the first time he'd really yelled around you, and definitely the first time at you. It peppered goosebumps across your skin and hitched a few breaths. Clamoring steps and Alfred entered, brows raised after a quick scan of the room. "What's going on?"

Bruce turned on his heel and made haste to the elevator, slamming his palm against the button before he rocketed down to the cave. His heartbeat pulsed in his ears, tears springing up for the umpteenth time this weekend. The second the doors opened he bolted through the basement, his cowl catching on the corner of a particularly obtrusive desk in the center of the room. He tossed the cowl, and as he felt the helplessness punctuate into his chest he began ripping off the suit until he was nothing but spandex base layers. He sprinted through the subway doors, past the car, and barreled north. The chilled air slapped his flushed cheeks, the pain in his foot and torso going silent as he sprinted through unlit sidewalks and alleys. He'd find it. Find something. Find anything. His weak ankle slipped on a patch of oil, and he landed swiftly on his back. Unprotected by the suit, the thud knocked the tears out of him, and they slid silently down his cheeks until they joined the puddles on the ground.

Alfred turned toward you and searched your face. "I heard shouting?"

You whipped out your phone and dialed Dr. Crane. He picked up on the second ring; you put it on speaker for Alfred to hear. "Ms. Y/L/N. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. I went to see Mr. Pennyworth, and Bruce caught me there and, we had an argument and he just, he ran off." The adrenaline rush of his shout lingered much like sweat. You fought to catch your breath as tsunamis of guilt and fear crashed into you. Would he hurt himself right now? Is he gonna die? Dr. Crane sighed. "Certainly not ideal..." Another sigh. "Did he make any threat against his life, or anyone else's?"

"No."

"Did he seem oriented to place and time?"

"Yes."

"Unfortunately there's not much we can do at this point."

Your hands shook. Alfred placed a hand on your arm to steady you. "I could go after him, I don't, I don't know,"

"No." Dr. Crane was quick with it. Alfred shook his head at you too, but remained quiet. "That might push him further. Mr. Pennyworth has this number, let him know to call me if he doesn't come home in the next few hours. Anything else I can do for you?"

God this was hopeless. Guilt ravaged through you, and you barely contained a sob while telling him that was all. You stowed the phone in your pocket, callously wiping hot tears from your face. Alfred dropped his hand from your arm, face empathetic but grim. "Miss. This is not your responsibility."

"I need to leave, I'm not making this better,"

"Let me drive you."

You shook your head. "I need to walk. I have a taser, I'm fine." You brushed past him before you melted into a pile of dust and became unable to command your legs.

Alfred walked across the kitchen and pulled off a piece of paper towel. "At least take my number. I'm a call away." The soft lull of his accent and the smooth feel of the fiber grounded you enough to walk out the door and brace yourself for the two-mile walk back, after a brief embrace and thanks. You stomped along the sidewalks with your arms across your chest, both grateful and suspicious at the lack of people around. Glints of flickering street lamps caught your attention on the wet cement. It shocked you that Gotham still got rain in the summer—much less, yes, but the littering of puddles and slick pavement was an ever-present ghoul.

The sidewalk curved to the left, jutting out to various side streets and alleyways. Some faint yelling punctuated the otherwise quiet evening, but that was usual. As you walked further however, it grew louder, sounding distressed. You grabbed your taser and held it in front with the trigger ready, safety off. The screaming kept an insistent space in the ambiance. Shuffling, hitting, thudding, scrambling. The fuck? Curiosity outweighed the fear that criticized every step toward the noise pollution. By this point the main street's light source had waned, rendering your phone the only way to not trip and break your nose against disgusting concrete. You yelped when someone ran out in front of you—it took a full ten seconds to realize it was Bruce.

His clothes were completely torn up; he wasn't in the suit, which confused you. Is it lying somewhere? Someone could easily trace it back to him. He turned quickly and paced back from whence he came, a small alley littered with garbage and decaying leaves. You could make out even less of what he looked like now. Every time you moved your light up he flinched, turning hard away from it. The puddles refracted the light off your phone, allowing just enough to frame his expressions and movements. He was hunched, shaking like he was in an earthquake, and shreds of his shirt and leggings were strewn about. "Get away from me." He grumbled, loud, his voice bloated and cracked. The hoarseness from earlier had devolved into a scratchy sound, almost like his throat had open wounds. He spoke too loudly, with some words emphasized and shouted while others sounded more swallowed, drowning in the tears he sputtered on as he choked out shouts and screams. You didn't bother to hide your wince; with sounds that heartwrenching and lights so low, it would be futile to suppress. Upon closer inspection some of his bandages had been ripped off too; as if on cue he began ripping more of them off, digging underneath his shirt, sniffing, huffing, and heaving.

"Bruce,"

He looked at you like he'd seen a ghost. "How do you know my name?" He shrieked, doubling over into the fetal position while he anxiously ran his hands through his hair, smearing the bloody, blackened tears into his hairline. His next few breaths were desperate and shallow, and you heard the sound of air sucking through his teeth. You stood about ten feet from him, unable to step any closer due to his erratic movements. He fell onto his ass and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, yanking violently as he rocked back and forth. Spit launched out of his mouth and dangled in the corner of his lips, the hiss of strained airflow clenching your gut into knots. You gulped, your limbs beginning to numb. "I'm calling Alfred."

Your hand shook nearly as much as his as you tried to squint to read his number. After too long, every second passing like ten minutes with the state Bruce was in, he picked up. "Alfred,"

"Miss? Everything—"

"Bruce needs to be picked up." You didn't realize you were gasping until you had to speak through it. It was at that second that Bruce acknowledged you, jumping to his feet and racing to only a foot's distance. "NO!" His pupils were blown, eyes rapidly shutting and squeezing. Crouched to be at eye level, you could see how his lip trembled under the weight of the sweat and tears pooling beneath his nose. His bleary, soaked, inflamed eyes threatened to impale yours with the intensity of their focused attention. He opened and shut his mouth a few times without speaking, and when he did, flecks of spit landed on your chin. A few unsuccessful regulating breaths and heaving exhales later, he whined into the phone. "Don't tell Mom and Dad about this."

Palpable silence. Alfred was the one to break it. "I'll be there in three minutes." The phone sat heavy in your palm after he hung up. Bruce sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the wet ground. He bloodied his knuckles beating against it. His screams became muffled as you stood, frozen. He gazed at the alley's dead end and shouted unintelligibly, his agitation mounting until Alfred arrived and helped him into the backseat. You couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and the man had to walk you to the passenger seat. "I'll take you home first, Miss."

"You won't tell them, right? I can't be out this late." Bruce wrung his hands together and looked out the window anxiously. You and Alfred exchanged a solemn look. Alfred nodded. "It'll stay between us, Master Bruce. I promise." This was bad, and you both knew it. It was sad, too. Would he wake up wondering where his parents were? Would he have any recollection of this in the morning? Would Alfred have to break the news to him that his parents had died years ago? Did this warrant an inpatient stay? What would Dr. Crane think? The hum of the cabin air was the only distraction from Bruce picking at his fingernails and sniffling up sobs. If there had been any more breathing room in there you would've joined him. But you had to wait until they were gone. Wait until the only thing around you was dark, empty silence. You directed Alfred to your apartment, and soon enough you arrived.

Pulling up to the curb of The Moore, he waited for your door to open before locking the rest. He stepped out and walked over to hold the lobby doors. His steps were slow and a bit shallow. He saw tears streaming your cheeks and stopped before grabbing the handle. "Miss,"

Now that you were out of the car you couldn't contain yourself. "It was my fault, I'm fucking meddling,"

His mouth settled into a tight frown. "As far as I'm concerned you saved him tonight. Who knows what could have happened if you hadn't been there?"

You shook your head, his words not penetrating the layers of guilt. "He wouldn't have been like that if it weren't for me. I'm inserting myself where I'm not needed."

Alfred placed a hand on your shoulder, waiting until you met his eyes to speak. "Efforts to save a life are never misplaced." With that, he nodded and bid you adieu. The walk to your room felt like a million years with the weights on your ankles. Your room was cold, a liminal space between before and after, then and now. If only I hadn't left.

Bruce had woken up screaming five times that night. The first two times he'd bolted out of his bedroom in his underwear, needing to be coaxed back to bed with firm reassurance and breathing exercises. Alfred took to sleeping in a makeshift cot in front of the boy's door to make sure he didn't slip past. When morning came, he hadn't recalled a thing; his head ached, his body felt like it'd been struck by lightning, run over by a car, and chewed on by twenty dogs. Seeing Alfred sleeping at the foot of his door prompted a conversation about what had happened last night—he'd glazed over by the time he was told what he'd said about his parents, though it didn't help the sting.

As much as he wanted to rot in bed the rest of the day until he could go out as the bat, his stomach grumbled to the kitchen. It was there that Alfred threw out the idea of going to see you. "Miss Y/N is the one who found you. She called me." After a few hours of avoidance that only propelled the day to early afternoon, he caved; the hovering presence of Alfred made his embarrassment and frustration peak, and if he'd stayed a moment longer he might have lashed out. So... he found himself once again at the door to your apartment. He felt strange being there, like he wasn't supposed to remember where you lived. He figured a text would have been worse.

You opened the door wearing black sweats and a white tee. You looked exhausted. "Alfred wanted me to stop by."

It hurt more than it should have that it didn't come from him. Moreso than desiring any self-indulgent recognition, you wanted to feel like he didn't hate you. Regret had kept you up the entire night to the extent of wicked nausea. Your knees still ached from kneeling in front of the toilet for hours on end. I'm sorry caught before it passed your tonsils, evaporated before reaching your tongue. All night you'd ruminated about how ridiculous and intrusive you'd been. All you'd done was fuck up his life. Why had you even gone over last night? Because some man in a blazer with a fancy degree gave you a crash course on mental illness meant you had any right to meddle? Those thoughts stormed against others that saw the pain and dangerous denial plainly in him, like a ticking time bomb.

Dr. Crane had called you earlier that morning to warn you about his condition. "It appears he's in a state of delirium. This is the worst-case scenario outside of another attempt... which is usually imminent soon after." His words echoed through your best attempt at listening. You'd have to remove 'works well under pressure' from your resume after this weekend. The call had ended on a sobering note, such lethal stakes nearly forcing you into complete apathy. You'd sat on the edge of your couch with the phone on speaker, sitting on your hands that grew colder the more he spoke. "The gravity of his current condition cannot be overstated."

"Me talking to him only hurt him." Your voice was dry and raspy from lack of sleep. "It sent him into a spiral, I can't do that again." Your arms wrapped around your torso in a sad excuse for a hug. Walter would've been great company right about then.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I assure you: such a high-caliber reaction could not be spurred solely by asking him to get help." But you didn't believe him. At this point you snapped, wanting to drill into him that you were making it worse. "He does not like me. He only gave me the interview because I wouldn't leave him alone, I have been a stain in his life for months."

Dr. Crane sighed. "Y/N." This was the first time he'd addressed you so informally. "I am aware he might dislike you. I hear what you are telling me. My professional judgment remains."

"Wouldn't someone you hate telling you to get help only make you want it less?" This thought had plagued you between dry heaves, the thought of your assistance only exacerbating his refusal. If someone you detested—and barely knew—came barging into your home demanding you get help and told you how much you were hurting your parents... you'd want to slap the shit out of them. It was embarrassing how entitled you'd acted the night before. "I'm making the problem worse. I need to be hands-off."

"I did my graduate studies on interventions for schizophrenic populations—I focused on the different outcomes between estranged and aligned families. Some of these guardians were outright abusive and thoroughly hated by the patient," He spoke the next part emphatically. "Yet regardless of how polluted the relationship, the data was clear:" He needed to drill every syllable of the next part into your very spirit. "Once the patient entered delirium, the families who took a 'hands-off approach' had an 87% increased rate of patient mortality within one week."

If the phone had been in your hands you would've dropped it. "Whatever you need to do, make sure it gets done. Nothing is too far when it comes to saving a life. It's the eleventh hour."

You stepped aside and Bruce walked in no further than required to shut the door behind him. He looked worse than ever. How did he even walk up here in the light of day? If even one camera got a picture of him it would be plastered to the front of every tabloid, he would have to come out with a statement...

He stilled. He saw the strain in your breath, how your chest rose rapidly, the slumped defeat in your body, your swollen under eyes and chapped lips. "I also wanted to apologize." He certainly hadn't meant to, but the anger was dissipating with every second he looked at you. "Last night I wasn't myself."

Maybe he'll say it himself. Maybe this is it, maybe he came to accept it. Hope fluttered against your ribs. No more fighting, no more arguing. "I'm sorry for inserting myself. I shouldn't have said that about Alfred. I'm a stranger." After the call with Dr. Crane, you'd wondered about playing docile, but this wasn't a ploy; this guilt was desperate to purge itself, and he was an altar edging it out.

He blinked at the ground. "You weren't wrong. Alfred is suffering." It hurt to push those words past his teeth. "But there's nothing I can do about that." He snuck a look over, seeing your mouth open. He cringed. "Don't tell me to get help." He grit his teeth and balled his fists, the tension in his body overwhelming. When you didn't respond, he spoke again, trying to show you plainly and clearly how suspicious it was. "It's an anonymous witness. No footage."

You wanted to talk about how the witness probably stayed anonymous because he was Bruce Wayne, someone so rich and powerful they might have feared retaliation if their identity was on record, but the other times you reminded him of his status had sent him spiraling. You wanted to talk about how the city budget was so misused that most of the security cameras around town were out of order, especially in dark alleyways that businessmen didn't frequent—that was the only purpose of justice in Gotham anyway, to protect and serve the elite. But the tension was visible and unnerving; you and Bruce together at a fragile crossroad. That mortality rate sat like a boulder in your gut. Every option was bitter on the tongue.

The one thing you thought to do was the one thing Dr. Crane said to never do; engage directly with his hallucinations. Did you even care about that anymore? Was he even right? Was Bruce right? Probably not. He'd been so beyond himself he thought his parents were still alive, staring at the back of an empty alleyway like someone was out to get him. That couldn't be reasoned with. Another refrain ran laps around you: one week. Seeing Bruce Wayne in your kitchen after hearing that... it seemed the odds were more likely you'd attend a public memorial than speak to him next weekend. Oh. Fuck.

He chased after the shift in your body language. You had that look again from city hall. The expression of being far away, on another planet. It instilled in him an unquenchable urge to thrust you out of it. "Last night... It was like I'd been drugged."

Any explanation to keep him in denial. You shook yourself out of it, immediately replacing the dismissive thought with something more just. It's a lot to accept. Of course he's struggling with it. The most you could manage was to stare at his shoes. Your eyes still glazed. The room muffled. Unaware of every breath. You hadn't dissociated this hard since the first call from the doctor seven years ago. Therapy had helped back then, letting you know this served a function. Holding it compassionately wouldn't do a damn thing right now, locked in your gridlock, dipping your toes in the apathy that lusted to infiltrate your bloodstream. My apathy is deadly. My apathy could cost him his fucking life. But you couldn't shake it. You couldn't look up at him, you couldn't even speak. You burst into tears... or thought you did. You'd heaved an enormous sigh and sat with your head down, unable to well up tears in such a detached state. Even if you could, you wouldn't cry in front of him if you could manage; he didn't need that.

Your sigh had a whimper at the end of it, sending a jolt through him. The stillness of the moment had him noticing the details, like how you hadn't changed since the night before. Your apartment was still disassembled. The time on the stove read 4:18. His mind wandered. Gordon got off on weekends at five; the mask would conceal most of his injuries, and the ones it didn't would make sense. He could investigate it more with him, explore the evidence room... But there you sat. And he didn't want to leave you like this. His tone was tender, like yours had been. "I'm safe."

Arkham. "I don't know what else to do."

"Believe me." He pleaded, a gravelly whine fraying the end. Dr. Crane had warned you about this on the phone call. He asked about your plan if he came over; you hadn't had one, wanting to ignore the possibility entirely. Dr. Crane said it was likely he'd draw more desperate. You'd asked about humoring him. Tried to express how stubborn Bruce was. Nope. Not a possibility. "If you want to throw gasoline on a fire."

Your lids were heavy with sleep, stress, anxiety. You could see how much you stressed him out. How he was on the edge of leaving. How desperate he was to be believed. Fish hooks in your sides threatened to cut you in two, tugging equally left and right, splitting each layer of your skin at the belly button.

At least if you stuck with Dr. Crane's plan and it ended horribly, you would have someone else to blame... You hated yourself for letting that cross your mind. Bruce wasn't an experiment, and this wasn't a low-stakes outcome. As much as the situation juiced your heart until it was throbbing and weak, he was the one with the most to lose, and he couldn't think clearly. He needed you to stay the course. Trust the science. Listen to the data, to reason, not what tugged at your heartstrings. You took a deep breath. "I know it hurts to not be trusted, but you have to weigh the pros and cons."

All he did was glare back at you. You couldn't hesitate, refusing to waste another second. "Worst case scenario is you have some temporary side effects," You ignored how visibly agitated he was becoming, how his hands twitched and his eyes looked away as his jaw clenched. "Worst case scenario of not trying them is you do that again, and not even know it's happening."

He'd far surpassed his limit; every syllable slipping past your lips trying its best to gaslight. You'd been persistent when getting the interview, he should've seen the red flag in your tenacity. "You're never going to believe me?" Posed as a question, meant as a statement. His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer. "Why are you pushing this?" Why would you of all people be shelling this so hard?

It was simple, and you said it as such. "I don't want you to die."

Bruce didn't give it time to linger. His face was sour with a scowl. "Doesn't change what happened."

"Weigh the options. One outcome is far worse." Please. You crossed your fingers behind your back to summon the universe's luck. Please. He just glared at you. Small shaking of his head. You pressed on. "You don't even have to believe anyone, just humor—"

He scoffed, the sound like a slap across the face. "Take medication to humor..." Your audacity... fuck. He could've laughed. He could've rolled his eyes, stormed out, any number of things. His was instead welded to the floor. It didn't make sense. Any of it.

"Please." God, the way you whined. The smallest, most minuscule seed of doubt entered him. Terrified of it manifesting into slipping resolve, he turned to leave. "Where are you going?"

He kept walking. The squeak in your voice, the haze of desperation, the exhaustion weighing you down—had you stayed up all night thinking about this? You couldn't have. He reached the doorknob just as you jumped toward him. "Please, stop,"

He winced. "Stop sounding like that." Your begging was pointless. He'd made up his mind. He'd leave, he wouldn't even look back... he wouldn't think about it, he wouldn't think about you, you wouldn't get to him.

At this point your heart was beating so hard you swore Bruce could hear it. As soon as he slipped out of your apartment he would be unreachable. Every other time he'd left like this, something terrible had happened. He could be dead by the end of the night. The end of the hour. When he turned the doorknob you could've jumped out of your skin. Your vocal cords constricted from overwhelming dread. This is too much. "Where are you going?"

"Don't need to concern yourself." He opened the door and you grabbed his arm; his head whipped around to look at you, startled by the forcefulness of your grip. Through his sweatshirt he could feel how ice cold your fingers were.

"I do,"

He shrugged his arm away. "Keep telling yourself that." The door opened wide with a quick snap; the snarl in his tone, the glare set in his features, you had about two seconds before he was down the hallway to god knows where to do god knows what. Popping into your mind was his insinuation that no one had seen it; no evidence, no corroboration, and you made a split-second decision as he stepped into the hallway.

"Because I saw it." A disorienting combination of emotions swarmed you; immediate regret at having lied, and immediate relief in seeing Bruce freeze, no longer rushing out to his demise.

"Saw what?" His voice lowered and he stilled, like he knew exactly what you implied but hoped you didn't mean it.

It was hard to stay quiet through the sudden flush of tears down your cheeks. The lie ended up gasping out of you. "I saw you jump, I'm the person who called."

You barely contained a sob of relief when he stepped back inside and shut the door. He peeked at you, his eyes searching your face slowly, deliberately. This was the first time you'd had any feeling at all that he was willing to listen. This was your last chance, his last chance, anyone's to get him to safety. "I felt bad about how the interview ended, so I went looking for you."

Bruce could barely hear you, and he could only hear you. The world, his thoughts, everything but the crackle of the flaming pitchforks his defenses held faded away. It would make sense it hadn't leaked to the press yet if it had been you, but.... He said this like an accusation, eyes narrowed with skepticism. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

He was giving you an inch, you were taking a mile. You were yanking him close to you and holding him there. You would've imploded if you had to see him in a casket, knowing you could've done more. Even if it wasn't your responsibility, even if you barely knew him. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Thought it'd be easier."

His heart was in his throat. Hope was lying nearly dead in his chest, gasping for air before a final death rattle. His voice was strained, weary, haunting. "You saw me jump?" His brows knit together just barely, daring you both to be honest and to spare him. "Off a building?"

You bit your tongue until a searing sting. Jesus... You couldn't hesitate. Not with him, not now. Not with him looking at you like that. Not with his pulse hanging in the balance. You nodded and strangled the words out from where they clotted in your throat. "It was horrifying. I thought I watched you die."

Bruce flinched as you said it, your words evoking a visceral sensation of being stoned. Brick by brick it hit his chest, teleporting him to the night his parents died; the feeling of watching blood pour out of their bodies, shucking sounds of it glugging against the wet concrete, seeping into puddles. Like a flipped switch, he had no choice but to believe you. This was his line. The notion that he had caused someone to experience even a fraction of that feeling... no matter how deep his denial, no matter that he saw the creature clear as day, he would have forgotten his own name if it meant sparing someone. If he suffered through the truth, fine; if it harmed anyone else, it was over. Folded. Hard limit. Fear was a tool, but not like this.

You witnessed a clear shift in him. You were too busy swimming in fragile relief to think about why that had connected. Your body was buzzing, and you watched on with bated breath as he stood in silence. If you listened hard you could hear his deep nasal inhale. His shallow, quick exhale.

He felt embarrassed, ashamed, and afraid. He hated how much he still wanted to drill you. How desperate he was to corroborate his experience and dismiss everything else. He wouldn't force you to rehash it. he wouldn't make you relive something like that. The walls began to close in as his reality rapidly dissolved; the owls hadn't been real, the creature hadn't been real, he'd really jumped off a building and his mind was so unreliable he hadn't known? Ooh, this was... this was...

You sniffed. It brought him back to space and time. He couldn't lose it yet. "Do you, uh," He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind completely numbed out. Save the spiral for later. "What do you need?"

You felt absolutely disgusting. What did you need? It churned your stomach. Why did he have to have humility now? Flashbacks to him screaming and hitting the pavement as spit flew out of his mouth. Taped down to a psychiatric bed. The scabs beginning to form on his face, neck, and hands... the pain that surfaced so quickly when you'd even barely touched his cheek. You pursed your lips and blew out a shaky breath to ground yourself. Save the spiral for later.

"You want me to get meds, therapy?" Desperation coated his tone. Like he was counting the seconds until he could leave, or explode, or both.

Your eyes were wide and bleary as you made contact with his. You couldn't bring yourself to nod, or even look him in the face longer than a few seconds. "I just want you to be safe."

He didn't speak for another minute. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he certainly wasn't at peace. You hadn't expected him to believe you. You hadn't imagined a universe where he would ever believe a word you said. But then he nodded. Lost in thought, eyes darting across the floor, breathing labored, and said things you never thought he would. "I'll pick some up in the morning."

The dizzying haze of shock annihilated him. He walked to the door but felt stumbled, like his saliva was thickening in his mouth, blood rushing to his core to sustain him, keep him upright, thinking, moving. When he grabbed the doorknob he couldn't feel it. In a blink the door opened and he didn't remember opening it. The zigzag pattern on the hallway rug floated, fuzzy, spotting the edge of his vision.

He walked calmly to the door; you couldn't see his face, no idea what he was thinking, and it killed you. "Are you gonna be safe tonight?"

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to reassure you he wouldn't do anything now that he knew you were involved. He wanted to tell you he didn't think he'd ever attempt to kill himself, but apparently that wasn't real. You'd witnessed him try to end his life. He was obviously unstable, an unreliable narrator, and he was afraid. The pieces were falling into place; the wear in your body, your meddling... He heard the elevator ding from the end of the hall and shut the door, leaning his sore, bruised forehead against it. What had he done to get that? He couldn't remember where half of his injuries came from. Alfred said he'd panicked the night before. Was out of his body. The last thing he remembered was staring up at the cloudy sky, wishing, pleading the universe to be believed. Then it was all black.

He spoke in a whisper, though unintentional. "I don't know." He didn't trust anything now. Was he even here? Was this even happening? Were his feet planted against your flooring, or was he actually in a field by himself? He couldn't do this now, he couldn't, he couldn't make you take care of him, you couldn't feel responsible, you weren't, this was crazy. He was crazy. His heart began to race when he heard you step behind him. He shook his head hard. "I'll stay inside tonight."

"Bruce," A plaintive cry.

He spun around. His shaky, blurred vision dialed in to your slick, puffy face. His jaw hung slack. "I'm sorry I put you through that."

It's worth it. He's getting help. No more bruises, cuts, jumps. I did what I needed to. He's not gonna die. He's not gonna die. He's not. gonna. die. You flirted with hyperventilation the more you sat under his gaze. "It's fine,"

"It's not." He wasn't going to leave you like this, alone and crying. Had you gotten flashbacks like he did way back when? Did you need a hug as badly as he did after taking their bodies away?

"You're okay, so." He stepped toward you and you jumped. He searched your face and goddammit, tracked every tear again. He is not gonna take care of me. STOP CRYING! You stammered for anything to say that could shift the focus off of you as you forced your tear ducts to close. "I can call Alfred if you want to be picked up," Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. I'm a fucking liar. I'm lying. I'm lying.

He didn't answer. You gulped, feeling increasingly like you were about to pass out. "The smog's pretty bad today, um," Your hands shook, you needed to find something to tether them to. Heat flooded your lashes again, fuck. "I think I have some tea, if you're walking it might, it might help."

Your hands quivered against the lavender mug as you pulled it from the cabinet. "With your throat, you know." Your hands were going clammy, your forehead felt sticky. He watched your trembling fingers search the drawers, finally procuring a packet. He'd traumatized you—he wouldn't let you take care of him too. He tracked your eyes to the microwave, and moved to open the door. You filled the mug with water and put it in the microwave for two minutes.

Just walking those few steps made him queasy; on top of everything else he was late to taking his pain meds. Inside, he frantically plugged a cracking dam. Would he be able to go out as batman anymore? How would the psych meds affect him? Had anything else happened that wasn't real? Did you even know he was batman? Was batman even real? Was batman a way for him to channel his sickness into something productive? What memories were real? He held his hands in front of him. The dam was breaking.

You turned around to grab a paper towel, but saw Bruce standing a foot away staring at his shaking palms. The blueness of his eyes was exaggerated by his constricted pupils. Unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you stared at the mesmerizing spin of the mug. Round, and round, and round. The light hit his cheek, emphasizing the scabs and cuts. The beat of his rising chest pulsing in your ear propelled you forward; maybe it was the rapid fluttering of his lashes or the first tear that fell, but you grabbed his suffering hands and the room went quiet.

"Hey, hey." You squeezed his lukewarm hands with your cold ones, nearly making a self-deprecating joke about not being able to warm him. He was staring blankly over your shoulder, his bottom lip ragged from biting. The whir of the microwave came faintly back into earshot, until Bruce looked back at you. A crest of tears balanced in his waterline.

His entire body vibrated. He wanted to tell you how terrified he was, but he was sure you could see it. He could see it in you, too. He still didn't want you to have to care for him, but that was rapidly deprioritized as more fears crowded in. You could almost see the dreams dying in his eyes; uneventful, hopeless, and frustrating like a dud firework. You swallowed back bile as you grasped for anything you could say to him, repeating a mantra to stave off the nausea. I didn't cause this pain. This was the only way. This has to help him. This is worth it, it has to be. You didn't believe it, but having him alive and in your sight helped muffle the self-hatred.

The microwave sounded. When you pulled back to open it you felt resistance—he squeezed your hands lightly, his breathing heavy and deep. You hesitated before giving another reassuring squeeze; you'd acclimated to each other's temperature, your fingers no longer feeling like ice against his. His hands were calloused and rough, and your palm rubbed on the scabs when you pulled back. Before your mind could wander further, before you collapsed in a puddle of tears, you slipped your hands out of his and busied yourself with steeping the tea.

Bruce lowered his hands to his sides, gently flexing them to remember the shape of yours. He ached to hug you; he ached to go back and stay just a little longer after the interview. He could've helped you pack more. Could've called Alfred for a ride home. What had it looked like? Had there been sounds? Body fluids? Did you race after him, or stay away out of fear? Had he needed CPR? Had there been a pulse? Did you see the impact? Did you run to catch him? Were you close, were you far? How vivid was your memory of it?

"How do you like it?" You didn't have much, just some sugar and honey, some old oat milk in the fridge.

He concealed a gasp as you broke his feverish spiral. He shook his head. "It's yours."

You didn't bother fighting him on it; the warmth of the mug and taste of the ginger would be a welcome distraction until he left safely with Alfred. You placed a plate over the mug and pat your sweats for your phone. "Did you want to call him?"

"I got it." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a regular-degular iPhone, shocking you more than it should have. You went to grab the honey while he spoke to his butler. You sat in a valley between; you wanted Bruce to leave as quickly as possible so you could throw yourself into the shower and cry, then hibernate in bed until Thursday, but it scared you to have him leaving these walls.

"He'll be in the parking garage soon."

Crap. "You need a key to open it, one of those fob things." You put a scoop of honey and mixed it in, the tremble in your hand coming back. "I'll walk you down."

The mug was cooling in the building's AC, the whoosh of the elevator doors hastening the process. The ride was quick and painless, the walk to the garage the same. Bruce had pulled up his hood, cinched it around his face, and put on sunglasses before leaving. He was actually pretty unrecognizable, but part of you wondered if that was just because you knew people would never suspect him out with someone like you; unknown, working class, in dirty sweats and flip flops.

Alfred came swiftly, giving you a wave as he pulled up. Bruce turned to you before getting in the car. "I'll keep you updated." He nodded, then sidled into the passenger seat. A second later, tint enveloped all the windows, leaving the car completely anonymous as it drove off.

The walk to the shower was excruciating. Every step felt like you were walking on legos. The shower offered a sliver of relief, but it didn't warm your conscience. It wasn't until Alfred called a few minutes after you had toweled off that you could let yourself breathe.

The old man was tearful, sniffing after every word. "Miss Y/N. Bruce asked me," He blew his nose. "To get his script tomorrow morning." He tried to catch his sobs, but they were getting away from him. "I don't know what you did, but thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

I truly believed it was the end."

[olderthannetfic]

Hate to contribute to the DNI discourse but this is too hilarious not to share. Ok, not hilarious. Ironic? "Cringe" as they say? Idk. Anyway:

Someone came up recommended on my twitter, we looked to be in the same fandoms so I was just kinda lurking their profile, figured i'd read their carrd for grins and giggles (actually i dont even think it was a carrd, it was some different type of website i'd never heard of, but whatever, not the point.)

I see: "dni gaylors, larries, or other weirdos like that", as part of their criteria. I'm neither, but I write RPF and have friends who ARE larries or gaylors (enough to the point where it comes up on my for you at points), so I'm probably, at bare minimum, 'other weirdos like that.' Whatever, whatever, this person seems annoying so I likely wouldn't want to follow them anyway.

But then I scrolled down to see: "BYF, please know i make death threats toward ppl and make KYS jokes."

Like you can't handle people who think random pop stars are gay, but you make death/suicide threats? Ok.

The real kicker was this "disclaimer" at the end of their page: "If u ever have a problem with something i did or said, let me know." Idk, internet rando, I don't know if I'd feel comfortable telling you you did something wrong based off what I just read!

Also, before anyone asks, this person was in their early 20s (If they were a kid, I wouldn't mock them like this, not even anonymously). So definitely young and immature enough and in the right. . .idk, "demographic" or age range to have a DNI, but old and mature enough to know that death threats aren't cool. They don't make you look funny or edgy, they just make you an asshole.

And it wasn't a troll either, at least not in any sort of obvious ways . Outside of their weird dni criteria they seemed to be involved in pretty normal fandom circles, mostly just tweeting art and engaging with their friends and mutuals.

I just...imagine bragging about the fact that you regularly tell people to kill themselves, but being scared of the evil evil RPF writers and people think that two rich white celebrities might like the same gender. I wonder how this person feels about her song You Need to Calm Down?

--

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Sunshine on Sakaar - Part 1

Prologue Anon's 1K Celebration

You sigh to yourself, sitting in the same crowd of people that you do everyday, watching as they chatter amongst themselves, betting on the lives of the warriors in the arena.

"Someone's come through the portal," another person chimes in, their voice brimming with excitement.

You rest your chin in your hand, always feeling the tinge of guilt at another unwilling participant for the Contest of Champions. They never lasted long.

You don't get a chance to try to commit the next unfortunate person's face to memory before you're called back to your duty.

"Oh, Sunny!"

You bite back your sigh of irritation and plaster on your widest grin. "Yes?"

"Do that trick for us again." It's a thinly veiled order behind a giant smile and a condescending laugh. You have no choice but to obey, while they clap, laugh, and taunt you.

You can hear the vague outline of the Grandmaster's normal speech to those entering Sakaar. You've heard it time and time again. Most were doomed to fight in the Grandmaster's twisted contest. You were considered one of the lucky ones.

You always hoped that every person would be 'lucky'. Luck had a strange definition in a place like this. In a place like this, anything was better than a death for the vain entertainment of others. At least you were alive for the vain entertainment of others.

You hear the familiar speech wind down, you're all about to find out the fate of Sakaar's newest arrival when you finally hear the voice of the new arrival, a voice far too familiar.

The flame in your hand suddenly extinguishes as your head snaps up, "Loki?"

His gaze snaps toward the sound of your voice. He sighs deeply, still tightly strapped to his chair, "This day just keeps getting better."

"You two know each other?" the Grandmaster asks, amusement lighting up his face.

"He tried to kill my friends once."

The Grandmaster raises his executing staff at him, "So he's no good?"

"No, no!" you quickly backtrack. And though there's a part of you that seriously questions why you're helping him after everything he'd done, you know you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't at least try to save him. "He's my friend's brother. He's, well... he's Loki."

"Loki..." the Grandmaster hums. "Sunny, can he fight?"

"No!" you quickly reply, much to Loki's distaste.

Loki scoffs, "I beg your pardon."

"He can't fight, Grandmaster. Not at all. It's kind of sad."

"I-" Loki tries to interject.

You steamroll over his words, laying your words thick for the two of them. You gently nudge Loki's restrained shoulder, "He's a total wimp, but he's a delight though. Really! Almost as funny as I am!"

"Hmm..." the Grandmaster audibly thinks. "Alright, you've made a compelling case. He can stay, but, Sunny, you're responsible for him."

"You won't regret this," you call after him, biting back a cringe. You whisper to yourself as you look back towards Loki, "But I might."

You take your time undoing each of Loki's restraints, and as you reach for the final one that unbinds his hands, he hisses in your ear, "You know that I could kill you without so much as wave of my hand?" 

"Do you know that I just saved your life?" you whisper back. "Now, behave until we get you away from the Grandmaster. He's known to change his mind."

He rubs at his wrists, standing up from his seat, "I was being my charming self, I had no doubt that I could manage."

You sarcastically snort, walking out of the viewing room and back to your room, "I'm sure you could."

Loki's footsteps trail behind you. "I don't like your tone."

"I'm sure you could," you brightly singsong.

"What are you doing here?" he demands, stopping in front of you. 

"Like right now? Or just in general?"

"Both."

"Oh, well, in general, I'm... actually I don't know what I'm doing here. I mostly just sit here and say something every once in a while. Sometimes, the Grandmaster, he’s the guy in charge, he makes me do tricks for him. And right now... I was just watching you slip in through that portal over there."

Loki's head tilts slightly as he does his best to tamp down his impatience with a heavy sigh, "What I meant was, how did you get here?"

"Now, that is a very long story. It started when we were in Sokovia back on Earth, and let me tell you, things were not going well. Like not at all. So we were only there because -"

"Stop," Loki interjects, shaking his head. He dismissively waves his hand, "Stop. No, no, I am not nearly interested enough to listen to this."

"Well, alright," you shrug, turning on your heels to walk away.

Loki grabs your elbow, spinning you back around, "I am, however, very interested in your acquaintance with the Grandmaster."

"Okay..."

"Could you help me?"

Your mouth twists slightly, "I dunno... I don't think that's a good idea."

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve tried to kill my friends before?” you reply like it should be obvious to him. 

Loki scoffs at you, “Aren’t you also friends with my oaf of a brother? The friend of your friend is also your friend.”

Your eyebrows furrow at him, “I’m no expert but I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.”

“I’m certain it is.”

“And, no offense, but Thor doesn’t exactly have the nicest things to say about you," you admit. "He told me a story about a snake or something.”

"He greatly embellishes."

“So you didn’t disguise yourself as a snake because Thor likes snakes, all so you could bite him?”

“He slightly embellishes,” Loki corrects.

“You don’t even like me.”

"If Thor has accurately depicted your character, you could look beyond my history to help a soul in need."

You cross your arms over your chest, quirking an eyebrow at him, “So you want me to help you out of pity?”

“I would like you to help me of your own accord, but seeing as that it unlikely, yes, I’ll take your greatest sympathies.”

You chortle, “I don't think you could win my greatest sympathies.”

“You think your life more tragic than mine?” Loki asks, his voice thick with offense. 

You call over your shoulder, “I don’t like to compare myself to others.”

He grabs your shoulder, spinning you back towards him, “But you do, don’t you?”

“I don’t think, I know.”

"My long lost sister tried to kill me!" Loki starts.

"My friend unknowingly kidnapped me and doomed me to a life on an unknown planet," you counter. "I don't even know how long I've been stuck here."

"My mother is dead."

"I never knew my parents."

"My father lied about my true lineage and rejected me for his golden child," he retorts.

"My parents left me abandoned, on the street for dead. After a whole day of knowing me. Only one day old."

"You win," he begrudgingly admits. 

"Nice!" You clench your fist in victory. "Wait, does that mean we both have sad, traumatizing lives?"

Loki frowns, "I suppose it does."

Your mouths twists in discomfort, "Maybe we shouldn't think about it too much?"

Loki quickly nods, agreeing with you, "Let's not."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @buckybarnessimpp @withyoutilltheendoftheline

[serickswrites]

Hello! Could you write a story where a supervillain becomes friends with a regular civilian. The civilian is insanely oblivious and doesn’t watch the news, so he just has no clue how massively deadly and dangerous the villain is. But the villain is just happy to have a genuine friend for once :) then maybe the civilian finds out or something?

Hello, friend! I absolutely can write this for you. This is such a sweet idea.

Supervillain had thought that they would be alone when they hiked to the top of the mountain overlooking City. They were wrong. A person sat at the lookout point, staring over the city.

Supervillain tried to exit quietly, not wanting to have another negative encounter with someone who knew who they were, but they dropped their metal water bottle. "Fuck," they muttered as it clanged on the ground. So much for a quiet, anonymous exit.

"JESUS!" The person said as they jumped. "You scared me!"

Unfortunately Supervillain was used to people reacting to them that way. They had been City's largest villain for many years. They couldn't go anywhere without scaring people. It had its uses. But mostly, it was lonely.

"I'm sorry, I'll just be going," Supervillain said quickly as they started to hurry away.

"No, it's ok! Wait. Do you want to join me?"

Supervillain froze. Join them?

The person started speaking again, "I wanted to climb this mountain with my friend. But they bailed. Actually I don't think we're friends anymore. It seems like they don't like me very much. Anyway, I would love for you to join me if that's ok." The words tumbled out of their mouth as they smiled at Supervillain.

"Are you sure?" Supervillain didn't know what to do.

"Positive! I'm Civilian by the way. What's your name?" Civilian held out their hand to Supervillain.

And this was the part where surely Civilian would run screaming. "Supervillain, my name is Supervillain."

Civilian smiled. "Nice to meet you, Supervillain."

Supervillain sat stiffly next to Civilian, listening to Civilian prattle away about various things about the mountain and City. Supervillain was flabbergasted that Civilian had run away screaming. Rather, it seemed like Civilian was happy to have Supervillain there.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Supervillain said, not used to having someone treat them with interest and kindness, "but you really don't know who I am?"

Civilian cocked their head. "Should I?"

"I'm on the news often, so probably," Supervillain said as they held their breath. This would be the moment. This was it.

Civilian shook their head. "I don't have a TV, so no."

Supervillain tried to not let the shock show on their face. This was...new. This person was genuinely nice to them. Interested in them. But had no idea who they were. It was...nice.

"Are you like super famous or something?"

Supervillain cringed internally. "Something like that."

"Oh cool! I've never met a celebrity before! What made you famous?"

Before Supervillain could open their mouth to reply, another hiker appeared at the trail mouth. "It's a beautiful day. Oh look there's--OH GOD EVERYONE RUN! SUPERVILLAIN IS HERE!" The hiker screamed down to the rest of their party. "RUN! CALL THE POLICE! CALL FOR HELP!"

Supervillain tried not to feel let down. So much for making a new friend. "Supervillain, why would they run from you and be afraid?" Civilian asked.

Supervillain looked away. "Because I have been terrorizing City for the better part of fifteen years. I'm...I'm the villain in the town."

Civilian nodded. "That's all? I thought it was something I should really worry about!"

"You're not afraid of me?"

Civilian shook their head again. "Are you here to hurt me? Kill me? Nope. Then I don't care. You look like you could use a friend. I know I definitely could."

[meguyummy]

pls see the vision lets have a reddit love story guys! reader owns a book store, izuku's a nerd, pt 1.

--

Internet anonymity is something that you abuse often. Who could really blame you, though?

It's late evening, almost closing time. Sat behind the counter in your small antique bookstore, the only noises you hear are the occasional rustling and crunching of autumn leaves. Today was a slow day, and you're insanely bored. Pulling out your phone, you wonder which app to kill time on before closing up shop. Twitter has been uninteresting, and YouTube has irritatingly long unskippable ads. So recently, you've turned to Reddit. More specifically, r/HeroSnark.

Initially, all your critiques on heroes were posted on Twitter, long and profane rants that got you suspended multiple times. You gained a following for being an outspoken "hero hater", but the sheer amount of die-hard All Might fans who almost found your location deterred further posting. Hating in peace was way more fun than getting swatted.

Has anybody else noticed how sloppy Pinky is getting with her acid recently? Public damage is out the fucking wazoo. Istg if I see another hole in the sidewalk I'll riot.

After posting to the subreddit, you turn off your phone and stand up, ready to flip the sign on the door to "closed" and head home. That's when the work phone rings. Of fucking course that's when the phone rings.

Plopping back down with a groan, you yank the phone out of the receiver and greet the caller, wondering if they've ever checked your closing time (or have, and were just shameless enough to not care).

"Hi! I noticed you have a copy of Captain Cosmos' special edition autobiography and I was wondering if you could hold it for me. I'll pay extra!"

You cringe, scrunching up your face at the phone. The voice on the was certainly.. enthusiastic. The caller was a guy, with a deep, but still somewhat boyish voice. He must be a fanboy on a different level if he liked Captain Cosmos, an ancient and mostly irrelevant hero. Your store offered all kinds of obscure old books, and despite your personal dislike, you knew better than to hurt business by not selling hero media.

"Yeah... I could do that if you're planning on coming to pick it up within the next two days. Are you?" You hope your exhaustion isn't too obvious from your voice.

"Yes! Yeah, I am. Thank you so so much I've been looking all over for it. I'll be there tomorrow!"

You say both say parting words, and you put the phone down, closing up quickly so no other last-minute calls can stall you. Walking up the stairs you retire to your apartment.

Living above the shop was a dream come true, allowing you to thrive without the possibility of an annoying downstairs neighbor. The space was cozy, designed perfectly to your liking after years of living there. After a relaxing shower, you slump into the couch. Checking the post, you read replies from others who have noticed the exact same issue and are equally frustrated by it, some even bringing up more problems you hadn't even noticed yet. You upvote a couple responses, reply to others, and turn on a sitcom.

The amount of bitching done online doesn't mean you're an asshole to people in real life too. Not to normal people, at least. The fact that heroes act like celebrities instead of the crucial emergency workers they really are grinds your gears. Who needs to see Can't Stop Twinkling's annoying ass on TV for something that isn't a rescue? There's a pedestal that they always put themselves on, like they're all-mighty and amazing and need to be praised, but their actions never speak enough for your liking.

A new reply catches your attention, and your brows furrow reading it. This is probably because she's been suffering injuries from her last mission and has still been pushing herself to work and save civilians! We should all be a little bit nicer :)

You frown, blinking hard down at your phone at the reply. Why the hell is.. u/minimight on here to spread positivity? Wrong place for that, bud. You pause the sitcom and sit up from your slouching position on the couch, readying your thumbs.

First, the downvote button gets smashed. Hard.

Dude, I honestly couldn't give less of a fuck that she's injured. If she can be a guest judge on The Masked Singer while injured, she can try a little harder to not make the sidewalk in my area look like Swiss cheese.

Why would anybody who likes heroes spend any time in that subreddit? The whole point is being able to dunk on them freely. You're not going to let some random guilt-trip you.

A reply comes in a minute later. The sidewalk is going to be fixed soon, it was just a minor inconvenience that came during her battle to save a life!

Way to make it deeper than it was supposed to be, u/minimight. You send another quick downvote.

Don't care lol save it for a hero-dickeating subreddit, not this one. You type.

While I understand your frustration, we should give more grace! I know how inconvenient and annoying things like this are, but not everything turns out as planned.

Holy shit they're not done. You don't really feel like arguing with a hero stan tonight, so you reply with a photoshopped picture of All Might in a clown suit.

They quickly reply. I just wish more people would have an open mind on these issues.

Yeah, u/minimight is gonna feel the banhammer soon. After swiftly downvoting their reply, you click on their account. They're a member of a couple All Might subreddits, which are expected, but also some more snark ones as well. They've written a couple of long posts written about random obscure heroes and their 'impact on hero culture'. Seeing that, you decide to write them off another annoying hero superfan and turn your phone off, changing the TV to a movie you've wanted to watch for a while.

Disappointed, (the movie was way worse than you expected) you switch off the TV and head to bed. As you lie there in the darkness, the image of All Might in a clown suit comes to mind, bringing a slight smile to your lips. Maybe tomorrow will be a less annoying day, free from hero fanatics.

[shineon3]

🤍 Fic Masterlist 💜

All my fics can be found here under the cut <3

Me and Mine (Serial Killer!Daniel AU)

Maxielfest 2024

All yours if you want me (4,615 words)

Max doesn't think. That's just who he is. He's brash, impulsive. That's why they call him Mad Max on track. He always acts first, thinks later. So, he tilts his head slightly up, looking straight into the honey brown orbs of his teammate.

"Please…?"

Read on ao3

I'll Be Your Wiener King, tee hee (2,345 words)

“Number 3, Ricciardo!” Max looks over at his boyfriend, the brunette’s smug smile and relaxed posture making him shudder. He didn’t know what Daniel had planned for him. What he knew, however, was that he had been exceptionally bratty and uncooperative last night, and Daniel always knew how to get back at him for that. “Well, guess that’s our cue, Maxy!” Daniel chirps cheerfully, grabbing Max’s wrist in a tight, almost painful grip, dragging him along to the FIA provided room before anyone tries to protest. They wait until they’re mostly out of earshot to slow down, and Daniel bursts down in giggles.

Or: Instead of completing community service, Max activates Article 69.

Read on ao3

Feed My Frankenstein (2,426 words) (somewhat of a sequel to this)

Realistically, Max knew something was wrong. He just. Didn't want to look into it. He didn’t need to get involved in the other’s business, even though Daniel was one of his closest friends. And, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but it kind of scared him. Just a tiny bit, yes, but enough to dissuade Max from looking too deep into it. Or: Daniel is an eldritch being, and Max is the only one who seems to notice.

(My Hallowen Motorsports Fest fic :3)

Read on ao3

and i just want to take you home (4,952 words)

“S-since when have you been working on all of this, Daniel? It must have taken you so much time, you shouldn't have bothered. I'm sure the cats were happy to play in the living room.” “They're allowed to have their own safe space here, Maxy,” Daniel smiles, fond and soft, warm. “It can be their little home away from home, even if it’s a bit wonky. I was very happy to do it anyway, promise. They're part of my family, ya know? They deserve it.” There's a lump in his throat, stopping any word from coming out, and Max just watches for a while as Jimmy familiarizes himself with the playroom while Sassy pads around alongside him. At some point, Daniel shifts closer to him, one arm wrapping around his shoulder, and Max leans against him, basking in the comfort radiating from the brunette. “You are, of course, part of our family too, Daniel.” Max cringes at his own croaky voice, but Daniel doesn't comment on it, just pressing a kiss to his hair and holding him tighter. It feels like finally coming home after a long, tiring day. Max thinks he could get used to it.

Read on ao3

Prompts

I / Me / Myself (6,892 words)

“You're… okay with it…? You don't think it's… weird…?” “It's not, Max. It's just who you are.” Or: Max's journey as he learns to accept himself, with the help of some friends.

Read on ao3

(I feel like I'm) Drowning (2,677 words )

“Maxy? You there, bud?” His voice echoes against the walls, worry tinting his tone, and silence is the only reply. He's slowly starting to panic, horrifying scenarios playing in his mind. What if Max had been hurt? Or kidnapped? Or even killed? He shouldn't have let him out of his sight, but he did, and now he lost Max, and how is he going to tell the team, how is he going to live with the guilt and- Or: Max is drugged in a party.

Read on ao3

So Much To Dream About (5,409 words)

Barely hours ago, Max was celebrating his and Daniel’s podiums in Suzuka, and now he’s… here? Where’s here anyway? Max sits up, suspiciously eyeing his surroundings. Everything seemed to look like what you’d expect in a generic forest, green, vibrant and alive; and yet it seemed to give off these foggy, odd feelings only dreams usually have. Is that it, then? Is he dreaming? When Max takes a look around again, Daniel’s laying next to him on the grass, hands neatly folded behind his head, looking incredibly peaceful and relaxed. Max blinks, resisting the urge to poke the brunette to make sure he’s real. He sits up instead, taking this unique, albeit unusual opportunity to study the older driver. He didn’t have much chance to do so in the real world, too many eyes and expectations following him along in the paddock. But here? In the safety of this dream space? He was allowed to do what he wanted. Or: Max and Daniel meet up in their dreams.

Read on ao3

[bitchslapblastoids]

my two cents on the horny WAD era Dan thing is that it also deeply reminded me of what I was like we I had recently come out, which I think is why it kind of induced me to cringe when witnessing it, but I think that that’s a cringe I want to kill, because he wasn’t hurting anyone and the euphoria of finally being out while it can be a bit annoying is definitely something I want people to be able to experience (agreeing with prev anon here— if anyone’s earned it, it’s Dan). I’ve been thinking about this recently, and I really want to be a part of a queer community where we celebrate that sort of rite of passage and are kind to people as they’re going through it.

The way that last sentence just made me tear up; that’s such a beautiful sentiment.

And yes kill the cringe! We don’t have to be embarrassed on people’s behalves. They can be embarrassed for themselves down the line if they want to, we don’t have to impose that on them! Love our younger cringe selves too; we’ve all just been trying our best.

[vitos-ordination-song]

I’m trying to put into words why I feel so defensive over Thorfinn’s pacifism. Plenty of fans who like the non-violent direction still say things about it which make me cringe. Like “he’s gone too far with his beliefs” or “he needs to be realistic” or “he’ll have to figure out when violence is okay and when it isn’t.”

I have agreed with critiques of pacifism before. I don’t like it when people living privileged lives start to preach to oppressed groups, telling them not to fight for freedom. I don’t think moralizing is the right response to violence in general. Whether or not violence is “right” isn’t the question. We never know what’s right from wrong with certainty. The only thing we can do is look at the circumstances surrounding violence and decide how to proceed. I’m also not immune to enjoying, even celebrating, liberatory violence, which I believe exists.

However, in real life, what percentage of the time is violence positive in any way? For violence to be liberatory or justified, violence must already have been done. This non-justified, aggressive violence is far more common than violence done in self-defense, as not everyone has the ability to stand up for themselves. For the people who can fight back, being forced to commit violence is usually traumatizing. But in fiction, violence is more often portrayed in a positive light; heroes commit justified or “badass” violence, and those who act in self-defense come out on top. With Vinland Saga, Yukimura wanted to create one, just one story where violence isn’t justified, where the characters look for another way instead of making excuses.

Since Thorfinn is a former warrior who has no right to judge others, his character sidesteps being preachy. Additionally, his main foil is Canute, who uses violence to try to reach the same ends and is framed as understandable and pragmatic by the narrative. The work presents multiple perspectives on violence, enriching its themes, but I strongly believe that to the end, Thorfinn will never compromise his beliefs. Not everyone in the world has to believe the same way that he does, but it is right and good that he maintain his pacifism. Readers looking for complexity in a work often want characters to reach a middle ground, like this automatically means they’ve grown, but some of my favorite stories focus on protagonists who cling to ideals and resist change. Through being forced to test out their ideals in real life, they become wiser, better people, more able to live in accordance with their values. That is what I believe Yukimura is going for with Thorfinn’s character.

In my heart of hearts, I believe that Thorfinn is right. He’s never once said that violence is always wrong, only that it should be a last resort. He hasn’t killed anyone since his vow of non-violence, but he’s had to bust some heads. In a recent chapter, he said there’s no such thing as righteous violence; that’s not the same thing as necessary violence. He can do it—but he hates it. If you’ve ever felt a thrill of enjoyment in hurting someone, you know how seductive it is. Developing a disgust for violence is healthy antidote to this tendency.

Reading the Vinland arc, I fully agree with other readers that Thorfinn is naive. I just disagree on whether his pacifism is a part of that naivety. When I examine the story so far, Thorfinn’s failures as a leader mostly stem from his lack of experience. He spent 10 years of his life fighting, then he became a slave, and then he became a merchant. Technically, he has a lot more life experience than most readers. But there’s plenty of things he doesn’t understand because he’s never been exposed to them, like the settlers’ investment in private property. Further, Thorfinn has a kind of simplicity to him, maybe caused by his rebirth, the way he was emptied out and then filled back up. He’s surrounded himself with like-minded individuals, true and honest friends seeking the same goal as him. He also knows how to deal with enemies, warriors who make their intentions clear. Where Thorfinn has failed is in dealing with manipulators and opportunists, paranoids and backstabbers. He isn’t good at understanding people who might cooperate with him while harboring ill intentions or irrational beliefs. It was very naive of him, and the rest of his people, that they didn’t check new members for weapons before leaving for Vinland. I’ve felt from the start that Thorfinn shouldn’t have allowed Ivar and his group to come at all, and he hasn’t been able to handle them very well, not recognizing the threat they pose.

But I’ve seen people equate these failures with his pacifism. That’s where I disagree. If the settlement wasn’t peaceful, it would have already failed, like the one that Leif’s brother started. If Thorfinn wasn’t constantly reigning in the violence of others and trying to communicate peaceful intentions to the natives, war would have broken out a long time ago. It is a simple fact that if you approach people with mistrust, superiority, and violence, you will create an enemy, while if you approach them with openness, humility, and generosity, you will create a friend. It’s interesting how quickly people jump to calling pacifism unrealistic or immature, when violence is usually the true example of those things.

Regardless of whether Thorfinn is right or wrong, naive or wise, it is possible that Vinland will fail. He may not be able to hold it together. But is this because of his non-violent ways? After all, Canute’s violence will ultimately fail as well—historically, his stable kingdom collapsed after his death. Vinland Saga portrays human beings who long for something better while remaining trapped in their failures and misfortunes. Yet the story still praises the efforts of those who try. Following their ideals, foolish as they may be, they attempt to shape the world. This theme is introduced all the way at the beginning with Thors, hurting his family’s livelihood to save a dying slave. There is a nobility and strength in continuing to pursue what you believe is right, regardless of the outcome. That is the only way for us to live fulfilled lives.

[wintry--mix]

In celebration of the 4th (I think) anniversary of the creation of my oldest oc (that I still use) Kitsune (she/her), I thought it’d be fun to do a bit of a lore-dumping post about her :> Her saga dates back to before I had much social media (including Tumblr), and a lot’s happened to both myself and her in those 4 years, so if you want to hear (or rather, read): brace yourself, this’ll be a long one lmao

So, first of all, a bit of a quick profile for her:

(^ft. the ref I made not too long ago actually for artfight)

Kitsune isn’t an actual kitsune like from Japanese mythology, but rather a weird ink-themed shapeshifting fox monster (bear with me). Being one of these, she’s immortal (or at least immune to death of old age - heck if she knows whether or not she’s fully immortal, she hasn’t had an experience that would’ve absolutely killed her yet), proving this by being 18 (or otherwise a weirdly short older teen) physically but actually 604 years old in-universe (her birthday being today - October 20th!). I rarely ever use her shapeshifting ability outside of giving her a “true” and human form, but she does also have the power to create portals to teleport herself to anywhere she wishes - including other dimensions and universes. As such, I like to imagine her as being a bit of an interdimensional traveler across the many OC universes I’ve made. (Also, fun fact: my voice headcanon for her is basically Spinel from Steven Universe but with a heavy New Yorker accent)

Now, she’s come a long way, considering her origins as a dragon from a mobile game I used to play called Dragonvale, and her modern human design originating from my Gacha Life/Club era (specifically me making a gijinka of the specific dragon she’s based off of). Years have since passed, and while I made (and ultimately scrapped) many personal projects, and many characters for said personal projects, she never did get recycled for those like many other old ocs, only to die with the project. I liked the idea of her existing outside of those universes, doing her own thing with her teleportation powers and occasionally visiting the new worlds I’ve made. I still do, so she still fills this role, but the specific backstory behind it has changed quite a lot.

Most of her old backstories I’ve either forgotten most of or I cringe too hard at to want to share (even to laugh at with others), but the basic gist of her most notable one was something along the lines of her traveling away from her original home universe to go see the world beyond it, leaving it behind to wither away into nothing - and even if/when she did try to return to check on it, there’d be nothing left, and whatever eerie magic system caused that world to turn into a void would nearly trap her there to potentially die as well. I ultimately scrapped this since some parts of it were a little edgier than I would’ve wanted (and calling this premise “edgy” sounds like an exaggeration, but I assure you that some of the old animatics I made about it would prove my point if I were willing to share them), but she does have a newer one that I do like (at least, as of now, lol):

Much like the significantly more well-known Bill Cipher, Kitsune is the last survivor of a world that was destroyed - although in her case, the cause was that its creator simply got bored and ashamed of it and wanted to move on to other creations (with her surviving due to her unique abilities letting her leave before she could’ve died with the rest of it). She has since used her portal powers to do some dimension-hopping across other, newer worlds, meeting and befriending (though, more often than not, bullying) their own residents. Kitsune enjoys her new life, but she can’t help but feel a little bit of resentment towards the creator who destroyed her old home and turned her old friends into their spiritual successors in the new worlds, without any memory of their previous lives…

ANYWAY that sure was a lot of paragraphs worth of rambling, but I hope those who bothered to take interest enjoyed :) Kitsune will (hopefully) stick around for many more years to come, and explore many of the new stories I make - although one in the very early making may give her an actual part to play beyond just a cameo…