#had no scare factor rip

[anime-academia]

Five Nights at Freddy's did not disappoint

[thedrotter]

now that im talking guys. first day of college in a few days SHAKING IN MY BOOTS. TAQUICARDIA. so terrified is college scary gamers... so scared bye its so over for me (being overdramatic but i dont want this to be school 2.0 if it is IT IS SO OVER)

on the same note i'll probably post less frequently due to it soon. PROBABLY, because then again i was still posting like crazy a few months ago during school finals IN A SYSTEM WHERE I WAS DOING TWO SCHOOL YEARS AT ONCE WITH A LOT OF HOMEWORK so... it depends on the people ☺️🩷 (so, on luck!)... do wish me luck on having nice professors and nice fellow students 😭...

[dcxdpdabbles]

My request for Adoptive son got accidentally posted with a different response and then deleted a while back, so I've come back to see if you're willing to do a little of the Summoned Demon au instead? 🥺 pretty please? I keep hoping it'll come back up and I'm excited haha

Danny flies while blinking through his tears, trying his best to find the giant clown Alex has mentioned. He is unsure what will happen to the police officer's ghost now that he has been captured, and that sends his heart into turmoil.

Every part of his core wanted him to turn around to rescue Alex. It went against his very soul to run, but he could think rationally enough to know that if he did, nothing good would come of it.

At best, he would give Alex enough time to hide inside the building he was anchored to; at worst, both of them would be shipped off to some lab and ripped apart.

No. He couldn't save Alex, and couldn't let his sacerfice to help Danny escape go to waste.

He needed to regroup. Figure out a plan, establish communication, or do something to escape the crazy cultists. It didn't help that they obviously had connections with police who were hunting him down to return him.

Thankfully, Danny has some experience with escaping government bodies. Just as long as he keeps moving and uses his powers wisely, he should be able to find somewhere to catch his breath.

Danny wipes at his eyes, pushing himself to fly faster.

Thanks to his invisibility, no one notices his form fly over their heads. A steady flow of people moves underneath him, going through another mundane day. It's crowded, busy and noisy.

So different from the city of Amity Park. It's a jarring reminder that only this morning, he had been dreading his upcoming math exam, and now he was running for his life.

At least the hook feeling in his navel has lessened. Using Phantom's abilities didn't take as much effort as it did a few hours ago.

Likely, whatever that voice activation cell did was starting to lose effect. Based on how his body responded, it would be two or three hours before he would be back to full strength.

As he finished the thought, Danny felt his body grow heavy, as if a weight was suddenly thrown around his ankles.

With a shout of alarm, Danny plummeted downwards, struggling against the cruel grips of gravity. He felt his invisibility fall away just as he landed face first on the ground between an open of people.

The force of his face has him skitting against the pavement, tumbling over and over as screams from the started civilians echo through the crowd. Danny rolls three times before smacking against a pull, upside down, with his legs folded over near his head.

He groans. "That is going to leave so many bruises."

His healing factor was kicking in already working on easing the aching in his spine and face. Slowly, as to not agitate his wounds, he unfolds, bracing his hands on the ground, and leaps up.

When the world is right, he finds himself standing before a little metal fence separating the street from a restaurant's dining area. The two boys Danny saw at the cult are sitting at the table right in front of him.

They were the ones who were pleading with the other boy who clung to his legs. Danny blinks. "Oh, hello."

The one on the left, a ginger that reminds him surprisingly of Kyle Weston down to his choice of clothes, lets a blood-curdling scream before his eyes roll back into his head in a dead faint. Danny leaps over the fence, catching him before he hits the ground.

The other boy watches like a deer caught in headlights, frozen with absolute terror all over his face. The fork in his white knuckle grip is bending at a strange angle as he makes small whimpers, almost as if he's scared to talk.

Danny carefully sets the one he caught on the ground, ensuring his head is cushioned before tugging at his clothes. He unzips the hoodie the boy was wearing and pulls at his neck collar to ensure it's not bothering his breaking.

Only after ensuring that the boy is breathing correctly does Danny move down to carefully left up his legs, remembering the lessons his father taught him in case he ever witnessed someone faint.

The teenager sitting at the table starts to speak, sounding panicky, but Danny ignores him in favor of placing the Kyle-Wannabe's legs on the chair's cushion. He tugs on the ankles in his hold, making sure it's angled in a way that does not hurt him spin but can allow more blood flow to his head.

"Can someone please call an ambulance?" He demands of the watching crowd only to have the majority of them cower back. He makes a face, causing a waitress to flinch so hard she stumbles over a nearby table.

Right, they can't understand him. He raises his hand above his head, attempting to mimic the ambulance light while speaking slowly. "Am-bu-lance. wee-oww wee-oww?"

A child bursts into tears. Danny drops his hands, letting them hang loosely at his side. The sea of faces surrounding him is all edged with fear, which makes his stomach turn. "None of you understand me. You're scared of me."

"I'm not," A man says, stepping away from the crowd. His transparent body lets him know it's a ghost. That and the dripping cinder block chained to his legs, along with his flouting hair as if though he were underwater, are significant indicators of his death. "You're trying to get him to a hospital?"

"Yes!" Danny points at him, forgetting himself for a moment. The people standing behind the ghost scramble to get out of the path of his pointing.

The man tilts his head slightly. "What language are you speaking?"

"English?"

"Odd. It sounds different. I would know since I speak nine languages." The man grunts, his strange accent sounding like a melody to the ear were it not for the watery effect. It's sad how it affects his handsomeness, with the green and silver trimming of his suit and the snake necklace and rings he is wearing.

The ghost calmly flouts to a poster on the restaurant's wall a few steps away from Danny, knocking his knuckles against some symbols. "Point to this word, then the boy. That'll let the crowd know to get some medical attention."

Danny stares at him for a moment before the murder victim clears his throat impatiently, and it snaps him into action. Rushing over, he points to the words, then the Kyle-wannabee, and back again to the word. When the crowd continues to stare, Danny repeats the motion more urgently until the boy at the table finally catches on.

He pulls out a rectangular device from his pocket- the same one that girl had earlier this morning-tapping it with shaking fingers and speaking in rushed panic words.

The ghost at the poster nods approvingly. "Well done. Now, leave the scene before the authorities arrive."

"What?"

"I was an immigration lawyer in life. One of the only ones in this cursed city that actually gave a shit, and it got me killed. I know how they treat people who aren't from around here and how to help you when a language barrier gets in the way. Trust me, kid, it's better to get gone in this situation." As he speaks, the ghosts float back to Danny, shaking the chains around his feet for emphasis. There is a cold, calculating glint in his eye as he regards the silent crowd . "The panic will settle soon, and these people will form a mob. Get going."

Danny throws one last look at the unconscious boy before he realizes that the fear on people's faces hasn't lessened. It's growing, and he knows a witch hunt will start soon.

He's seen it before on the faces of Amity Park back when he was Inviza-Bill. He twists on his feet, running away with the lawyer flying behind him.

The older man gives out curt directions at every turn, slowly guiding him outside of the part of the city. Danny's legs are starting to burn when the sight of a large, broken-down amusement park comes into view.

The lawyer tells him which part of the fence board is loose enough for him to slide in and then instructs him to go to the fun house shaped like a giant clown head. Danny scrambles through the hole, hissing when a few loose nails catch on his skin, but he finally stumbles through, only to be overwhelmed by a new large and bustling crowd.

A crowd made of thousands of ghosts that walk or fly about without a care in the world. They are wearing various different eras of clothing, blending, and some have ghastly marks on their bodies, indicating their deaths.

The majority, however, are people with large, crazed smiles frozen on their faces. He gawks at all of them, not used to seeing so many of the dead in one place outside of the Ghost Zone.

"Don't just stand there with your mouth open." The lawyer snaps at Danny's back. "Get out of sight now!"

"Tom?" A woman in a gown that looks like she was present for the beheading of Marie Antonette steps in front of the drowned layer, Tom, with a look of confusion. "Who are you talking to?"

"Him." Tom nods his head at Danny, who offers the woman a wave. She reels back, opening her mouth like she's about to scream,m but Tom snaps forward, slapping a hand on her lips before she can. "Do not! What do you think will happen when all these murder victims realize he can communicate with them? He just escaped from being mobbed."

The man glances over his shoulder at Danny. "Go into the fun house. Act like you can't see or hear the rest of the ghosts. Walk through them if you have to."

"I can't," Danny whispers, his heart suddenly beating wildly. None of the ghosts noticed him, but that could change in a second. "Ghosts are solid to me. If I try to walk through them, we'll just end up bumping against each other."

Tom lets out a very put-upon sigh. "Then walk around them. Now go. It's not safe to talk in the open."

Danny knows Tom is helping him but feels vaguely threatened as he walks stiffly to the giant clown's head. He fights to keep his gaze straight, watching ghosts step out of his path while some flout closer, looking curious. He fights to not flinch at the ones with the enormous smile as if someone had cut them into their faces.

This is making his stomach turn.

"Who's this?" An older man asks Tom and the woman that follows him. His lips are pulled into two upturns, showing tight yellow teeth in a similar craze grin.

"Street kid," Tom grunts from somewhere behind him.

"He's likely looking for shelter from the cold." The woman adds, though her voice is slightly strained. "Tom wants to make sure he gets settled."

"Where is he going to?" The old man questions, his voice a little odd because he has to speak behind his teeth, trapped in a smile. "The only warm place here is the Joker's old place, and not even the dead go in there."

Danny ignores the old man's words, speed walking all the way to the entrance of the Fun House. He notices that various ghosts stop to watch him out of the corner of his eye as he finally passes the doorway into the building. Shaking his head, the old man lingers just a little outside of it. "Fool. Even if the Joker is not here, it's not a place to go."

Neither Tom nor the woman responds as they follow Danny inside. Tom is facing the wall when he mutters. "Close the door."

As soon as the wood seals shut, with a few ghosts lingering gaze trapped outside, Danny collapses on the floor, letting out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "That was terrifying."

"What in the world is going on, Tom!" The woman hisses, apparently unable to hold back any longer while crossing her arms, "Who is this?"

Tom holds up a hand in her face, which makes her gasp in offense, but his eyes linger on Danny's crumbled form. " There is a dictionary tucked away in the third office. Go get it."

"What? Why?"

"Because we'll use that to help you communicate with the living locals. I can read, and you can point."

Danny's eyes widen. "That's a clever idea!"

"Of course it is. I'm one the cleverest men to walk this stupid city's streets." Tom smirks like the snakes he's wearing. "We don't have much time. Knowing the idiots of Gotham, Batman will be tipped off and on his way here as we speak."

[too-deviant]

The incessant ringing of loneliness (or three weeks part two).

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Summary: Luke is back, officially. But you can’t find it in yourself to be happy about it.

Content: angst, loser!luke makes an appearance, a lil fluff, this one is probably happier than part one

Word Count: 4k

Notes: i can’t thank you guys enough for the love on three weeks :( it really means the world, and i hope you enjoy this one too! i don’t think there’s gonna be a part 3 just because i want the rest of luke and r’s story to be up to your own interpretation - especially since his path to healing is such an important factor and it could go in any way. hope that’s ok with you guys :)

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

You weren’t very popular at camp.

Despite the fact that you’d been there for longer than most of its occupants, and that you’d bandaged up some of their gnarlier injuries, you just didn’t have what it took to have people know your name upon first glance.

Clarisse had her unbridled aggression — she scared people into knowing who she was. Charles Beckendorf was the guy you went to when you broke a sword and didn’t want Chiron finding out about it, plus he was six foot six and kinda hard to miss. The Stoll Twins were behind pretty much every crazy scheme that ended up in Hermes losing desert privileges. Luke was…well, he was Luke. Need I say more?

Point is, while everyone knew everyone, not everyone really knew you. They knew your face, your parentage, and your overall skill set. But they didn’t know your name, or what made you tick.

Which was fine, really. You liked the alone time you got in the infirmary when your sister would run out to gossip with her friends in Aphrodite whenever she saw them walk by. You didn’t mind that, when your cabin got their hour of free time each day, your siblings would rush off to their friends and you would simply settle down with a good book.

It’s not as if you were entirely lonely — you had your fellow Apollo kids. You, Alina and Lee bonded especially, being the older kids of the group. So you had them — the only difference was that they had other people, too.

Which, again, was fine.

Except when you started to take care of Luke, you finally felt like you had a person. You looked forward to seeing him after meals each day, and you found excuses to linger in his room whenever possible. Call it odd, but you grew to enjoy the fact that nobody else knew he was back. Because that way, you had him, he had you, and that was that.

But then Luke got better.

You didn’t even have time to worry about it — one minute you were scarfing down your breakfast, eager to bring that second plate up to the Big House, and ignoring the strange looks your siblings sent you. Then in a split moment, everyone was cheering, people were standing and suddenly you didn’t feel so crowded anymore.

You heard murmurs of excitement, but people were practically standing on the table around you — unhygienic, much? People are eating here — and you couldn’t see what they were looking at. You tugged on your brother’s leg and he glanced down at your raised brow, then he said, “Luke’s back!”

It was like you were sucked back in time. No — it was like you were sitting in a waiting room, shivering from the cold breeze that whisked in through the automatic doors. And then the doors closed, and you could release the tension in your body because the warmth was already reaching your fingers — only for someone to walk past and make the doors open again, sending the sharp sting of the cold right back to where it was before.

Yes. That’s what it was — the warmth Luke’s eyes on you had provided was suddenly ripped completely from you the second your brother's words reached your ears. Replaced with the blistering cold of nobody ever knowing your name.

So it was back to normal for you. The normal you had grown accustomed to — the normal you liked. The normal you thought you liked, anyway. 

You didn’t even catch a glimpse of Luke’s face as you stood and left the Pavilion, focusing on the floor beneath your feet rather than the crowd forming around him. Oh, but you couldn’t forget that he was back, it was all anybody could talk about. Once they’d done the math and realised he was the patient you’d been taking care of for three weeks, you locked yourself in your cabin to avoid all the questions, and didn’t see him until the very next day. 

The chatter of Luke’s return had died down when you woke up the next morning — a little later than you usually did, Lee having to shake you so you wouldn’t miss breakfast. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pulled a clean camp shirt over your head, stumbling a little due to the fact that you hadn’t fully woken up yet. 

When you were ready, Lee was waiting by the door. A few of your siblings were still getting themselves into a line after his loud Fall in! had woken them up, so you had time to stretch your arms and let out a sigh once you had taken your place beside him. You and Alina always walked with him to mealtimes, even though neither of you were counsellors, and you greeted her with a smile. 

The air was stuffy again — so much so that even Lee let out a wince when the shining glow of the front door hit his eyes. Then he stepped out of the cabin — his usual routine of checking the garden and cabin for pranks before letting them out coming into play. But he stopped. 

“What?”

He swung his head back at you, brows raised and smile growing, “Luke’s back.”

Out of instinct, you rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure we all know that, already.”

“Yeah, but —“ He turned fully then, hands on the doorframe and grin shining, “He’s back, which means the Hermes kids are finally under control again, which means we don’t have to worry about being pranked first thing in the morning!”

“Holy crap.” Alina was grinning now, both of your siblings looking at you and each-other with this excited expression that made you sort of angry – why are they perceiving Luke? They’re not allowed. 

You huffed a sigh as Lee started to lead the line outside, “He got back yesterday, there’s no way he’s already –”

But he was. As you stepped into the sun, the skin on your thighs already forming an uncomfortable layer of sweat, you looked to where the Hermes cabin was filing out of their door, led by the one and only Luke Castellan. You paused. 

He’d been back a day. Sure, his scar had healed nicely, but it was only three days ago that he was struggling to hold his own in a sword fight – if he was back to his counsellor duties, was he going back to teaching sword fighting? You were unsure he should even be in charge of all those Hermes and unclaimed kids so soon, but going back to teaching only days after coming back to camp? There was no way he was ready for that.

Should you say something? Or would he dismiss you, now that he was done with you?

You watched as he walked with Chris, chatting idly as if nothing was wrong. But you saw Chris glance occasionally at the jagged line through his brother’s eye, and you saw Luke attempt to ignore it. 

Should you say something?

You tripped. You were so busy staring creepily at Luke that you tripped over your own feet and tumbled into Lee’s back. He stumbled slightly but righted himself with a huff and a chuckle, turning and asking if you were alright. 

But you had looked straight back in Luke’s direction – he was still talking to Chris. He wasn’t looking at you. 

He wasn’t your person anymore.

Luke was unsure. 

Which didn’t happen often — as one of the oldest campers, and the one everyone else looked to in times of peril, it was sort of essential for him to be sure. He needed to know what to do, to have a solution for every situation, and to be completely calm about it. Otherwise, camp would go to shit. 

That much was obvious — he didn’t know why you hadn’t told him this in the three weeks you spent together, but camp had turned itself upside down in his absence. Apparently nobody was prepared for him to be gone for so long, and they kind of all lost their shit. 

He was happy to be back, don’t get him wrong. He lit up when he saw his brother’s faces again, when he felt their arms wrap around him. He laughed when Travis joked about thinking he was dead, and when Connor quipped that the camp was seconds away from starting a revolution. He nodded at Chiron, smiled amusedly when Mr D rolled his eyes, he scooped Annabeth into his arms, whispered to her that yes, he was alive, and he let himself be whisked to his table, the crowd following like moths to a flame. 

It was slightly overwhelming, but he was well-equipped to deal with it. He liked the feeling — if he ignored the throbbing on the side of his face, it could be like he’d never even left. The quest never happened, the dragon never happened, and people are just happy to see him because he’s their counsellor. Of course they would be. Everything was fine. 

Everything was fine — so he ignored the urge to scan his eyes across the crowd in search of a familiar head of hair. He stopped himself from glancing at the Apollo table, from looking in Lee’s direction, just in case he wasn’t standing alone. 

Because he didn’t need you anymore. Not that he didn’t appreciate all you did for him, but the healing was done. He was better, he was back at camp — he was Luke Castellan again. If he looked for you, if he met those eyes and returned that smile, it would be admitting defeat. Admitting that he wasn’t better, that he still needed his doctor. 

But he didn’t. Because he was back, baby! And he didn’t need to think about that stupid quest, his stupid dad, or his stupid scar ever again. 

He had a short chat with Chiron, who looked a little uneasy when he expressed his readiness to get back to camp duties. He told him that it was fine if he needed time to settle in, but Luke was firm. He didn’t need to settle, he didn’t need to wait. So Chiron sighed, and told him to escort his cabin to the climbing walls for their morning session. 

And that’s how the rest of the day went — climbing wall, arts and crafts cabin, strawberry fields, archery practice. Luke did it all, just like he used to before he left. If people would just stop looking at his damn scar, maybe he could pretend he never left at all. If they stopped murmuring about him being the secret camper, hidden from them this whole time, he could avoid thinking about you and the sweet touch of your fingers on his face. 

The fact that he hadn’t seen you at all since his return helped him on that front — you weren’t around at breakfast, lunch or dinner. You weren’t in the infirmary whenever he peeked through the windows. You weren’t with the rest of your cabin when they were paired with Hermes for hand-to-hand defence practice. 

Not that he was looking for you, or anything.  

“Hey, man.” Chris clapped him on the shoulder as they walked up to breakfast. It had officially been twenty-four hours since Luke’s return, and the chatter had died down significantly. That was good for him, helped him ignore the fact that he was ever not there. 

All he had to do was keep his eyes off you — who had magically reappeared in camp — as you also walked up to breakfast, the Apollo kids trailing behind you, Lee and Alina. 

“Listen, you did great yesterday.” His brother was saying, and he zoned in on it. “It was like you never left.”

Cool, that was the plan. 

“But it’s sword fighting today.” 

Luke raised a brow, “So?”

“So…” Chris sang, awkwardly waving a hand, “You don’t have to jump right back into training us, is what I’m saying.”

He scoffed, running a hand through us curls, “Nah, bro, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Because —“

“Y’know, Chris,” Luke sent his brother a cheeky look as they took their seats around the Hermes table, “if you’re scared to get back to my gruelling training sessions, just say that.”

Chris’ face fell, appalled, and he put a hand on his chest, “Scared? Dude, you’re the one who should be scared. I’ve gotten good since you’ve been gone.”

And there it was — a reminder that it wasn’t the same. That he couldn’t pretend he had never left, because nobody else was. Whatever, it’d be fine. A couple of weeks and this would all blow over and he would never have to think about it again. 

The Amphitheatre, unlike the rest of the camp amenities, was familiar to him. He didn’t need to stand and take it all in like he did with everywhere else, because he’d been here not even a week ago with —

No. Stop. You aren’t in his life anymore. He never went on his quest. Everything is how it should be. 

The kids gathered around him were letting off a range of emotions as Luke stood before them, sword in hand. The younger ones were giddy, eager to get back to training with their favourite teacher. Some of the older ones, however, were only slightly confused that he’d bounced back so quickly. If he had to spend three weeks in the Big House before even going outside, was he ready to jump right back into sword training? Maybe he’d go easier on them today, take it slow. 

“Alright — if there’s anything I've learnt over the years, it’s that sword fighting is all about reflexes. So, today, we will be working on y’all’s dodging skills. Oliver, get up here!”

Luke was back on Mount Tamalpais. The fiery breath Ladon was shooting at him seared his skin and burnt holes into his shirt. He was ducking out of the way, but there was no room to breathe when another one of his hundred heads came at him with a fierce snarl. His sword felt useless in his hands, every swing being deflected and every jab proving useless compared to the dragon's swift movements. 

He blinked, and he was back at camp. Sparring with an unclaimed kid who’s name was lost on him. Sweat dripped down his brows but he wiped it away with shaky fingers. He gave an off-handed comment on the kids form before calling a water break. 

“Yo— woah, man!” 

Chris looked wide-eyed at Luke. He had tapped him gently on the shoulder and he had responded with an aggressive swing towards him. He stepped out of the arc just in time, but Luke still dropped the sword like it had burnt him. He stepped back, hands shaking, and stared at the ground. 

It was odd — being at Archery in the mornings. You’d spent three weeks skipping the hour in favour of taking food to Luke and ensuring his dressings were changed. Which for most cabins, was what? Three classes a week? 

Not for the Apollo kids — who have always and will always have their first hour spent on the Archery fields. Mainly because it’s when the sun is rising, shining on them in the early mornings and giving them their power to hit the bullseye. You included, even if healing was more your purview. 

So you’d missed probably around twenty classes, give or take a few. Your form was, well, subpar at best. Lee had to spend the entire hour making sure you didn’t accidentally hit one of your siblings — and that was after he had to re-teach you the basics. 

You probably would’ve been better had you not been so distracted — your mind whirring with thoughts of Luke. You wished your brain would just leave it alone, but apparently you weren’t done mulling over the situation. You wanted to slap yourself across the face and say hey, idiot. The three weeks is up, he’s healed. It’s over. But your siblings would probably look at you weird, so you decided against it. 

Instead, you threw yourself into your duties. Archery was a bump in the road, but now you were smooth sailing. You didn’t focus on anything else but what you had to do that day — not taking a moment to breathe because if you did that, you’d start thinking about Castellan again. You didn’t want that, you really didn’t want that. 

It was going really well, too. But then Chiron just had to interrupt your canoeing session, asking you to clear out any medical supplies you left over in the spare room of the Big House since nobody was staying there anymore.

Oh, great. You were thinking about him again. 

And then all the thoughts you’d been suppressing since ten in the morning were overflowing your head, and you thought you might have had to ask Mr D if you were going mad because when you cracked open the door and peeked your head in, Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed like usual and you had to blink to make the hallucination go away. 

Except it didn’t go away. Instead it looked at you and smiled, “Hi.”

Your lips parted, and you stepped in. Your eyebrows curved in on themselves, “Uh, hey. What are you…”

You were still about seventy percent sure that he wasn’t real, but nobody was there to listen to you talk to air, so you replied anyway. Luke clicked his tongue, let out a chuckle, then sighed, “I don’t think I can do it.”

Okay, fifty percent sure. 

“Do what?”

“Go back out there.” He gestured a hand to the window that pointed outside, although it was still covered with the curtain. “I thought…I dunno, I guess I got too excited yesterday. Thought I was ready to jump back into it.”

You stepped fully through the threshold, and he followed you with his eyes as you walked over to the desk. Nothing but a few spare bandages that you scooped into your arms before looking back at him. You tilted your head, “Healing isn’t linear. It’s perfectly normal to feel like you’re on top of the world one day and then like it’s crumbling around you the next.”

He stood, walked over to you. Thirty percent. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them.” 

“You won't.” You shook your head, “You made a big step, coming back to camp. That's it for now, you don’t need to take any more big steps for a while.”

He nodded, “No more big steps.”

“Not until you’re ready.”

Luke’s hands reached out, taking the bandages from where you cradled them to your chest. He put them back onto the desk behind you. Ten percent. 

His eyes bore into yours, “I don’t think I’m done healing.”

You shook your head surely, “I don’t think you are, either. And that’s okay.” 

He nodded, lips clicking when he parted them, “Which means you’re not allowed to leave me yet. You have to stay with me until I’m fully better.”

You shook your head then, stammering, “It’s — that’s not how it works. What you went through, it — you might not ever be fully better.” 

But Luke just nodded like he knew that already, taking a step closer, “I think I’m okay with that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. What the hell do you say to that? “Okay.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together, “So you’re not gonna leave me.”

Five percent.

A shake of your head, “Not until you ask me to.”

“Good.”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you froze. Okay, he was real. He was really there. You were sure. You hugged him back — he buried his face into your neck and whispered something about you never leaving him again and you whispered something in return about how you wouldn’t dream of it.

So, apparently, you severely underestimated what it was like to be friends with Luke.

You’d thought about it — of course you had. You would imagine what perfect golden boy Luke Castellan was like when he didn’t have to be a perfect golden boy. When he could just be a boy, hanging out with his friends like a normal person would. What jokes did he tell? Did he still keep up that Luke Castellan Grin or did he relax into an easy smirk? Did he make his friends follow the rules even when they were alone? Did he follow the rules when he was alone?

You wondered, although you never thought you’d actually find out. But he’d made it clear you were never leaving his side so long as he still needed you — and he was sticking to that. Firmly.

The summer sun was hot on your back — only this time your dad seemed to be going easy on you, as you weren’t completely uncomfortable under the warm cotton of your camp shirt. You still wafted it every now and then, proving some cool air to your chest, but overall you were feeling good.

You walked into the Amphitheatre with the rest of your siblings — who were less than amused that, despite Luke’s return to camp, Tyler P from the Hephaestus cabin was still running sword fighting practice. They heaved themselves onto the tiered seats with dramatic groans, but he simply grinned at them.

You paused from where you were about to sit down next to Alina when a waving hand caught your peripheral. It was Luke, tucked into the very top corner of the steps, smiling at you from the shadows.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked when you reached him, raising your brow in amusement. He patted the spot next to him and you sat down, just as Tyler began to talk. Luke leaned in.

“I’m watching.” He muttered into your ear, then he smirked at you, “You can’t stop me from doing that.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You murmured, leaning back on your elbows and watching as your siblings paired up reluctantly. “Thanks for pulling me away, though. Gives me an excuse not to take part.”

Luke huffed a laugh, “He can’t be that bad, right?”

“Just you wait.” You smirked.

Turns out, Tyler was that bad. Every ‘new skill’ he tried to teach them either (a) they already knew, something Luke liked to whisper at you with a shake of his head, or (b) he couldn’t even do it himself, let alone teach others how to. Another thing Luke commented on from where he sat beside you, hands aching to get in there and show him what was what.

“Just one tip, and then I’ll go.” He begged under his breath as Tyler dropped his sword for the umpteenth time. “Please.”

“No.” You didn’t even look at him, “Because one tip turns into a demonstration. And a —“

“— a demonstration turns into a class, yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but you just grinned at him. He smiled, “You’re mean.”

“I know.” You said in a faux-sympathetic tone. You pouted at him, “I’m just so cruel, aren’t I?”

His eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched into a disbelieving grin, “Damn, doc. What happened to you?”

You scoffed amusedly, “You did.”

His mouth dropped open and you smiled, looking away. He poked your side and you shuffled away with a giggle, attempting to ignore his riled up smile. He didn’t relent, for every inch you moved away from him, he scooted right back towards you. You looked at him with a narrowed gaze, “I miss when you were too miserable to talk to me.”

“No you don’t.” He shook his head. He was right, you didn’t.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, and you felt it on your face. That was when you realised how close your faces were — mere centimetres apart. You swallowed thickly, but you didn’t move away. Luke’s smile stretched, and his hand began to inch up your arm.

You squinted, “What are you doing?”

It was his turn to feign confusion, pulling his lips into the same pout you did only moments earlier, “What are you talking about?”

His hand was at your elbow now, sliding higher. You shook your head, a minute movement, “Doctor Patient Fraternising isn’t allowed.”

He gasped, pulling his hand back in favour of placing it dramatically against his chest, “It’s not?”

“Nope.” You grinned amusedly, “Sorry.”

“Damn.” He leaned back, glancing at you for a second before looking back towards Tyler’s shitshow of a sword lesson, “Guess I’ll have to get another doctor.”

You snorted, “You’re a loser.”

You stood up and went to rejoin your siblings, and Luke shouted after you, “I’m your loser!”

“What was that?” Lee asked when you stopped beside him.

“What? Oh,” You glanced back at where Luke was sat, and he averted his gaze from where he had been looking at you. You looked up at your brother, “He’s just happy to be back, is all.”

He chuckled, “Sure.”

Whatever. He was your person again and Lee could suck your dick if he had anything to say about it.

🏷️ @aceofswordsandarrows @cowsandcomics @number-onekidqueen @kestisvrse @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @how2besalty @iinlovewithfictionalppl @lilacspider @l0ve-dov3 @coffi-cake @ironmanbaldes @onecojg @hiraethavis @freaking0utficrecs @delphifarms @wildlyfreemoon @candylandy8173 @sinnercry @featherofthecrow @babellucci @telliette @totallynotnic

[bunnyvirgo-thechocobunny]

oooh, wait wait, idea. what about smiling dead members x reader but, like..the reader gets hurt REALLLY badly in an asassination attempt against another rotling or something? think like, the reader is somewhat immortal but has a slow healing factor unlike other rotlings, so that would make them need to be safer- that is until that biiiig injury happens. you can choose how they get injured! whether it be in a car chase the car crashes and reader gets a bit stuck or maybe a bullet wound?

꧁A/N: oh am I gonna enjoy this >:))))))))꧂

The Smiling Dead fam (separate) x Reader who is injured and has slow regeneration

Damn…that dagger went really deep in your upper chest and the wound was very wide and went all the way down near your stomach but you weren’t able to get it out and the other stab wounds weren’t really helping either, thankfully you still had enough strength to walk to the Whale Belly Butcher shop before you collapsed on the floor from losing a lot of blood, out wishing that you could just heal faster..

~🔪Ken The Butcher🔪~

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOing….”

Ken really didn’t expect this to happen at all, you told him that you were going to be more careful and THIS is what he sees in front of him!?

He could carry you bridal style into the freezer room, pushes everything on the side on the table and carefully places you down trying not to cause any more pain then you already are.

Ken is REALLY careful with wrapping the bandages on you, checking for any signs of flinching from pain. After he’s done with that he slaps you at the back of your head basically as a scolding you for not being more careful, He knows that you can heal yourself but the healing process is way too slow.

He still allows you to go out and do your job, just not without someone watching you because after that little fiasco he’s not letting do solos anymore (he’s just worried for ya that’s all.)

~🍞Breadhead🍞~

“Are you- what happened!?”

Breadhead would be panicking a lot even though he knows you’re going to be alright when you slowly heal but you basically were bleeding out on the floor in front of everyone

He rushes towards you and places you down where he usually plays the piano and uses his jacket to apply pressure to at least stop your chest wound from bleeding more. Even though your vision is a little blurry thanks to blood loss you can still see Breadhead’s worried puppy eyed face as he still presses his jacket on your chest

He can’t control his strength sometimes whenever he’s stressed or upset so when he puts pressure on your wound you yelped in pain and that caused him to rapidly apologize but you reassured him that you were okay by giving him some pats on the head

Some hours after you’re healed finally, you still needed to at least get Breadhead to stop keeping you in place after you just got injured since he’s still scared that you’ll get hurt really bad again but he did eventually let you go. but still makes sure that when you come back you’re not very injured

~👑Mel👑~

“Oh…”

Mel gets really concerned with you since you slowly heal and all but she doesn’t panic that much since this isn’t the first time someone came here in a bloody mess so it’s a normal Wednesday for her but with you it’s slightly a little bit different for Mel.

Mel lifts you up with just one arm and takes you to her room where she has some extra bandages that she has for occasions whenever her bandages are starting to get loose or rips open, just like her dad she’s very careful with you and seems to look like she knows what she’s doing.

Mel now secretly follows you when your on a mission making sure you don’t get hurt that badly again after what happened (totally not in a creepy stalker way of looking after you)

~🚬Mud🚬~

“Oh boy…”

Mud is a mixture of worry and slight disappointment, very disappointed but a little worried. But eh, he’s seen worse in his time

He would tell you to focus on your heart rate and breathing so that you won’t lose anymore blood, the more you panic the more blood that you’ll lose if you keep focusing on that deep wound of yours. After you calm down causing the wound starts to bleed more slowly but didn’t stop, Mud would leave you for just a moment to get bandages.

He’s a little uncertain about leaving you alone so just in case if anything like this happens again he’ll be right beside ya as a way of back up

[householdcryptid]

Imagine someone like Craig makes a sexual comment about reader and pope FLIPS OUT. I feel like pope is super protective. Also I feel like pope is really body positive rather someone is super skinny or curvy he could care less. Body hair doesn't scare pope

you are totally correct, pope would not care at all what size or shape your body is. i genuinely think he doesn't even factor that into his like...attraction I guess? like obviously he thinks you're sexy/beautiful/handsome but that is NOT the first thing he notices about you. idk if this was supposed to be a nurse!reader or a shy!reader, but I did sunshine cause I felt like it fit them :) cw: uhh, pope being pope, gunshot wound mention (not in any crazy detail though), craig being craig, slightly sexual comment made by Craig. 1K Words :) she's short and sweet

It all starts with a comment from Craig. Just one, tiny little comment, harmless by your standards. Some of the whacked-out patients at the clinic spew much more vile shit at you on a day-to-day basis. “If Pope’s not up to the task, I’d be happy to fix that attitude, Sunshine.” You’d been in a mood, considering Pope had been caught in the line of a shotgun’s buckshot two days ago. He was fine, thank God (or whatever deity watches over him and his fucked up family), but you’d been on edge. Snappy and waspish in a way you’re normally able to control. The comment hardly makes you look up. Tossing Craig a middle finger is easy by now, but Pope isn’t so forgiving. He’s up as fast as he can manage, gunning straight for his brother with a slight limp in his normally steady step. “Fuck did you say-?” He’s almost growling, voice gone sharp, gravelly. It shouldn’t make heat stir in your belly, but it does. His hands, open palm, collide with Craig’s shoulders, gripping the fabric of the taller man’s tank top, knuckles white. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut-” You’ve never seen him in action, not like this. Not that this is as bad he gets, either, you’re sure. It’s jarring nonetheless. “Andrew,” You call out, surprised, voice raising an octave, a frown working its way across your face. You’re crossing the room after him on instinct, hand settling on the back of his shoulder. He goes stiff beneath it, breathing hard, nostrils flared and eyes wide. That wild look he gets— like a hurricane barely contained— turns to you, just a bit. The slightest tip of his head in your direction. Craig is smirking, hands held up plaintively at his sides. You barely bite back a curse in his direction, choosing instead to focus on Pope. 

“Drew, let ‘im go.” You murmur, shaking your head slowly. “He’s just bein’ a dick,” Your gaze cuts to Craig then, who at least has the decency to look the tiniest bit apologetic. “It’s alright, c’mon.” You mumble, hand sliding from Pope’s shoulder to his back, rubbing gently between his shoulder blades. “You’re gonna rip your stitches. Sit down for me, lemme check.” It takes a minute, two, but then his fingers are unfurling from Craig’s shirt, and he’s shoving him away like the touch burns. “Fuck outta here.” He barks, gruff and a little mean, sniffing once and turning to face you finally. You nod, lead him back over to the couch where he’d been stationed for the better part of the day. You know it’s been killing him. This sitting around, doing nothing, staring a TV, feigning interest in whatever bullshit Craig and Deran are talking about, or, God forbid, Smurf coming over to ‘comfort’ him. He hates to be in one spot for too long, despises being useless. When Craig is out of ear shot, you squat down in front of him, fingers curling in the bottom hem of his shirt and lifting it. “You don’t have to do that, y’know?” You murmur, peeling back his bandages tenderly, looking over the handful of stitches you’d had sewn into his skin. He tilts his head, frowning like he doesn’t understand what you mean. “Defend me like that.” You clarify, sparing a glance up at him, eyebrow arched. “I can handle it. People have said a lot worse, believe me.” His frown only deepens the more you speak, eyes gone dark with a thinly veiled rage, thick fingers clenching at the edge of the couch cushion he sits on. “M’not gonna let him talk to you like that.” He grumbles low, pointed. “No one gets to talk to you like that.” His gaze doesn’t let up, and something in his tone lets you know there’s a threat hidden there. Something dark, primal, biding its time. Affection blooms in your heart despite it, something that never ceases to unnerve you. The violence and anger that reside in him should not be as endearing as you seem to find it. Or maybe it isn’t that, that draws you into him. Maybe it’s the devotion, the allegiance he has to you. You know, deep down, that he’d burn the world to keep you safe and happy. You smile in spite of the heavy tone he’s just set, shake your head in that gentle, fond way that makes his stomach tighten. He relaxes minutely when your hands find the sides of his neck, leaning into your touch. “You’re sweet.” You state quietly, tipping your head forward just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose brushing against his own gently. He sighs heavily through his nose, resting his forehead against yours, eyes sliding shut. The tension bleeds from him all at once, his hand sliding up your forearm to cup your elbow. He’s never known a feeling like the one you give him. Something tight in his chest unravels when you touch him, leaving him to feel… bare, vulnerable, and he hates it as much as he craves it. “Let’s go home.” He mumbles, nose pressing to the apple of your cheek, fingers dimpling the skin of your upper arm. Your home, he means. Not his little condo that resembles a prison cell more than an actual home, but your apartment. Where it smells of coconut and his shampoo sits next to yours in the shower. And you can’t deny him anything when his voice drops to that soft, breathy tone. Especially not when he’s actually asking for something, a rare act at best. You reward him with another kiss, humming quietly in confirmation. “Yeah, big guy,” You whisper. “Let’s go home.”

[stickydrawingportraitlamp]

sebastian solace x reader? Anyone?

too bad :P

Sebastian Solace X Reader

Genre: Fluff, Found family

Warnings: None

Summary: After having been thrown into this hellhole, at an unreasonably young age, you find yourself trying to accomplish the task at hand; Find the Crystal. Whilst you are on your journey, you encounter a rather large angler man.

Author note: oh tod he's so dreamy guys. ALSO !! i made the reader into this sort of introvert where they're like "oh god people" kind? Not the "Oh no! People :(" kind of introvert. Reader is 14 by the way !!!!!

(spot the poppy playtime reference MEHEHRMRBR)

Screaming of an unknown enemy closes in quickly. Wanting to avoid certain death, you dive into a locker you made sure wasn't inhabited. It's screaming grows louder, tormenting your eardrums. You can't help but bring your hands to shield your ears from potential deafness and pain, a factor you wouldn't want in this place.

Hearing the screeching Angler pass it's way through, you burst out of the locker to cough out your lungs. The amount of dust your poor, overworking lungs hacked up was nowhere near healthy. Dust, grime and sweat had been imbedded into your diving suit, gross. You hope theres an open hole leading to underwater diving that would be able to wash away all the sweat and dirt off of your body.

Maybe, just maybe, if I'm able to get that crystal, and get out of this place... I can go home.

Home? Is that even a place anymore? Maybe it's the fact that the human mind finds so many things to cling onto when faced with impending death. One last hope to hold close. An unknown family, friends and maybe even a potential lover you could of had the chance to grow old with, and had many laughs in the house you grew up in. That... Sounds like paradise, but you are far away from that dream, the bile and sweat sticking to your swimsuit, a threat. Escaping this place is only a small plea, begging for anyone to hear your cries. To anyone, who could give you that boost to keep going.

'Door 46, am I almost halfway through?' You're surprised you even managed to get to 40, surely there's a surprise around the corner? A potential medkit would be fantastic. Your vitals read 35, that's nowhere near good. Batteries? Your lantern could use it. You only have enough to accompany your lone self through an empty, cold... Dark place.

The swirling thoughts in your head only manage to cease after encountering the door that finally indicates you are halfway through this hellhole. Door 50.

The dripping of a broken pipe drives you insane, every drop makes your fight or flight activate. The rapid pitter patter of your feet scurry to the next door, automatically sliding open once it knows there is a human presence.

The next room, however, is dimly lit. Two portable lights shining in the direction of a vent. How... Interesting? Is this where you need to crawl into? Your thoughts are quickly misguided as a gruff voice emits from the emit, earning a harsh flinch from you in response.

"Hey, stranger. Over here." This voice calls out to you, alluring your oh so close demise.

You have the thought to immediately scurry to the door, not wanting to take your chances. Fight or flight? Flight, surely. Your sweaty palms land on the door with a soft thud, realising that the only way out of this room requires a keycard. A code breacher is out of the question, seeing as you hold no such thing on you.

"Don't be so scared... I don't bite. Maybe." He utters that last part quietly, making a chill run up your spine. Will you really have to find out if this is something that will rip your spine out? But... It's the most friendly voice you've heard in hours, aside from the other angry prisoners from earlier that practically took everything you scavenged.

Investigating the vent, you crouch down to a level where it's most easy to be able to crawl in through. The size of the vent is no problem for you, since you are a 14 year old who could easily slot your way through tightly fit ventilation systems, or a blocked room.

Albeit, the diving gear on your back made it just a tad bit challenging to slide through, it was an easy feat. Your eyes dart from each side of the room, looking for the one who'd voiced out their friendliness. You definitely weren't expecting a 10ft terrifying Angler humanoid.

"Welcome, welcome! Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Sebastian, your only friend."

... With teeth. Sharp ones.

"Now, I'm betting that your supervisors gave you instructions to acquire a certain orange coloured crystal, no?" He words out with a certain amount of sarcasm dripping from his voice. Supervisors? You're only 14.

"However— Oh." He stops, suddenly. Normally, he wasn't one to take in the appearance of a fellow prisoner, seeming as it 'deemed unnecessary.' You, were younger. A lot younger than he expected.

"What the.. What the hell's Urbanshade doing sending kids down here...?" He was muttering to himself, his hand reaching up. Thinking that he was about to grab you, you recoil in fear. You find however, that your fear is misguided and that he'd only brought up one of his three hands to grab his chin in thought.

It had been a good 7 hours since you'd spoken last, other than the occasional screaming and crying. Your throat, croaks out at first which earns a cringe from yourself.

"I'm 14. I'm not a kid." Your throat feels like it was tortured from the amount of screeching you'd emitted running away from Anglers, and threats. That stupid Wall Dweller was one of those threats.

At your response, he chuckles amusingly. Sebastian finds your bravery endearing for someone your age. "Haha, alright. You're not a kid. What's someone your age doing here anyway?" He voices.

Observing the place, you talk as you walk around to analyse your surroundings, finding this small talk pointless.

"They threw me in here, I was trying to find my mum. Told me she'd be in here, just need to get a crystal first. Then they'd take me to her."

....

An uncomfortable silence passed by, before he frowned at you.

"are you that gullable? Thought 14 year olds were supposed to be semi intelligent." That earned a slap from you onto his tail. He hisses at the contact.

"Ow! Fuck, you little..." He hisses.

"You deserved that. She was here last, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Shut up, and give me your ware so I can get out of this shithole." You were obviously pissed, upset that the 10ft Angler guy offered no solace. (haha get it?)

"Alright, alright. That was a fault on my part, just.... Why did they throw you in here? You can't be here. You can't stay. Look, kid. I know they told you that your mother was here somewhere, and if she was then she's gone now. She probably made it back up to the surface." Though you narrow your eyes, you can sense a hint of comfort in those words. You can tell, he's genuinely worried about you.

Sebastian see's many people come and go, only to see that they inevitably meet their dark fate. He hopes, that this won't be the case with you.

"..Look. Urbanshade doesn't tell the truth, they lie to get what they want. I'm sorry to be the one that breaks it to you, but your mother was used as a false hope to get you down here. The more hands they have on the mission, the bigger the possibility to get the crystal. Take it from someone like me." he'd muttered that last part, he can understand your situation.

Urbanshade had lied to him too, told him that his Freedom would be granted. He just need to pay a price first. Be their puppet, be their experiment.

Sweat beaded down your face, this isn't what you wanted to hear. Had they really lied to you? Used you as a move like chess on a board? Sebastian can see your distress. How you came to the conclusion that he was indeed right, even if your mother was here... She would be nowhere to be found.

why were you even here?

Sebastian knows you can't be sent back up, Urbanshade will track your location and come to the conclusion that you're heading back. They would blow you to smithereens because of the bomb device around your neck. You're obviously too young to continue this harsh journey to ensure your families existence. A 14 year old shouldn't have to die in an agonizing way, especially when they're so young and have a life ahead of them. shit.

He really has no choice, does he?

"Agghh.... Fine!! Fine fine. You, are gonna stay here with me. Capish?" He inquires, your head shakes fervently. Your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water, wanting to reject this idea. He stops you before even a single word can come from your mouth.

"Don't worry about the crystal. Urbanshade will send more prisoners to do their dirty work. I'll get you food, and that damn collar off of your neck. Other than that, stay here. You'll be safe with me, and I will try and find out as much of your mother as I can. I trade these supplies for the data you come across. I should surely have one of your mother." Every single thing he says has you shaking your head. But, deep down... You know he'll be the closest thing that leads you to your mother.

"Oh. What's your name kid?"

...

"[Name]."

--------------------------------------------------

ALRIFHT so im done !!!! if this actually goes viral i will actually turn this into a full blown story on Ao3. pls comment and let me know if you want more of the family trope with Sebastian cause we just don't see enough.

Part 2 is out now!

[spitdrunken]

reinhard van astrea x isekai!reader

notes: obsessive behaviour/yandere, dependency @yandere-romanticaa - im the anon who sent in an ask! hope you like it <3

Domesticity is something Reinhard has never even had a taste of in his own life. His own family had fallen apart because of him all too quickly, and the little piece of happiness he can remember from his youngest days quickly became lost. After that, there had been little calm in his life, little except for training. His minimal needs taken care of by nameless servants who all looked upon him with awe, apprehension and outright fear.

Reinhard never quite managed to feel part of the human race since. He may be loved by the world, but its people would fear him. None of this ever stopped Reinhard from helping others and being the hero he is supposed to be. Though, at times, he wonders what his life might otherwise been like. In other words, like so many, he is subconsciously drawn to what he cannot have. When Reinhard falls someone, it’s most likely for someone living a relatively normal life. An unknown factor.

To Reinhard, it would be even better to meet someone who has no idea who that is. That is a tough thing to ask for, however. His face is known far and wide across Lugunica and his reputation as Sword Master stretches even beyond. It would be near impossible to meet someone whose perception of him wouldn’t be tainted by his ‘monstrous’ power.

Cue you. You have no idea what’s going on. One moment, you’d been going about your day, the next you’ve been transported into this unfamiliar and foreign world, to bustling streets full of species you don’t recognise and speaking a language you cannot understand. After crossing off ‘this is all just a dream’ from the list of possibilities, you’re faced with a frightening new reality.

You’re not taking this very well. It’s not long before you’re sitting somewhere on the cobbled ground, back against a wall and practically hyperventilating. Of course, you’re familiar with this kind of trope of fiction. You just can’t fathom how anyone could be excited about being ripped away from everything and anyone they’ve ever known. Nor have you ever fashioned yourself to be ‘main character’ material.

It’s Reinhard who finds you in a little alleyway, a little ways off from one of the main roads in Lugunica, mumbling to yourself and shaking. Most people would’ve passed by with little more than a glance, if they had even noticed you at all. That is simply the nature of large cities. But he is not the type of person to see someone in such clear distress and walk past without a second thought.

Reinhard approaches you without any hesitation. He tries to be as conspicuous as possible, adjusting his belt so his sword bumps against his side and putting down his feet a little harder than necessary, all to avoid scaring you. (Stealth is a passive Divine Protection of his. It takes him more effort to be noticed than not.) When you glance up, tear tracks clear on your cheeks and eyes wide with distress, Reinhard greets you with the most gentle smile he can muster. He kneels down in front of you, reaching out a hand with a handkerchief in it as if approaching a frightened animal. It’s a thick, soft cloth, embroidered with both his family’s colours and banner. “Please, take it,” he tells you. His smile falters a tad when, instead of breathing as fast as you were before, you seem to have stopped breathing whatsoever. But then you let out a stuttering, long exhale, shoulders slumping and mumble out a string of incomprehensible words. You wipe down your face and hide within the fabric. Out of respect, Reinhard gives you some time before prodding you with questions, looking away instead of staring. Though there are certainly things that grabbed his attention. Your way of dress, more than anything else. It’s not a type or style of clothing he recognises and, as a result, he can only assume that you’re a foreigner. Traveled here from further than the Four Great Nations, maybe. And gotten lost as a result. Reinhard doesn’t mind waiting for you to calm down. Though there might be trouble brewing somewhere else in the city, he’s certain that the rest of the guard can handle themselves for the time being. He’s not even on the job, after all. It’s important to stay in contact with the people he’s actually protecting, lest they become more of an idea or an image in his mind. He returns his focus to you once you’ve calmed down. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” This time, you look at him with no comprehension, then respond with something in your own tongue. Reinhard continues to try and communicate with you, all of the different languages he’s learned bits and pieces of out of politeness, yet none of it rings a bell for you. It’s difficult, frankly, and he’s running out of ideas. You seem to be growing closer to tears again by every second that passes. Perhaps it would be best to try and focus on something easier… A little distraction. He points at himself. “Reinhard van Astrea.” Any moment now, it must happen. There’ll be a flicker of recognition at his name, his appearance, the sword of his hip— And any hint of unguardedness will be erased and replaced by that look he is all too familiar with. That doesn’t happen. Instead, you smile. It’s wobbly and small, but it’s a smile nonetheless. You point at him. “Reinhard van Astrea,” you repeat after him. The vowels aren’t all quite correct, but that’s not an issue. He nods, smiling. Then, you point at yourself and share your own name, which he then repeats. Maybe it’s something to do with his pronunciation, or simply the relief of having fostered understanding with someone else in this city, but that’s the first time that Reinhard hears you laugh, loud and without reservation. It is that very moment that time seems to freeze, that it flits through his head that he cannot let something this precious go.

From the outside looking in though, it doesn’t seem to you that anything momentous has happened. You’ve started to doubt your ‘main character’ status, though. The man that is busying himself to make you at ease looks like he’s appeared straight out of an otome game with unnaturally bright hair and eyes to boot. He’s gorgeous to the point that it’s almost unnatural. That it’s reminiscent of a piece of art in a museum. The idea that he’s way, way out of your league is an immediate, unquestioned assumption.

Reinhard accompanies you throughout town, never straying far from your side. After mulling a little bit over a ways to communicate with you, he asks a shopkeeper for some paper and a pen, making little sketches to attempt to clarify things. He draws a rough approximation of a house and a questioning tilt of his head. Then, some coins, then stick figures of people. You have to shake your head at all of the unspoken questions. No, you have no home, no money, and no people to return to. By the end of it, your face runs hot with shame and you think you might start to cry all over again.

It’s Reinhard who, in the end, assures that you have a roof over your head and money to spend. You have no idea how to make it up to him. Not the mention, you don’t even have the words to express your gratitude. It’s a little one-room apartment that he’s bought for you in a quieter neighbourhood of the capital and your first self-imposed goal is to pay him back. The most people such as yourself can do around town is menial labour: lugging goods around, cleaning as a maid or anything of the sort. It’s either this, or do nothing inside of your room all day. You prefer the work, even if it’s exhausting.

Reinhard really only accepts the money you present him with to stop you from feeling worse about the situation. As soon as he figured out what you were doing, he’d taken you to a more reputable home in the city as soon as he got, acting as your ‘translator’ when you asked why. Of course, with him vouching for you, there was no question about the job or your higher salary.

He’s away for long stretches of time, but when he’s around he’s teaching you bits and pieces of the language. Reinhard isn’t the best at teaching though he tries his best. You pick up most of the language through listening to others speak, to struggling your way through novels after he taught you the script. All he asks for in return is for you to teach him a little of your own language to even better communicate with you. (You try not to think to hard about how it’s a language that, in this world, will die with you.)

Around you, he recalls what he was like as a young child. Shy, almost, at times struggling to figure out what to say. It’s an entirely unfamiliar feeling. Reinhard does feel a bit bad about keeping you in the dark. He purposefully doesn’t teach you some of the words people refer to him with. He doesn’t want you to change the way you look at him.

The same goes for his courting attempts. Any attempt at romance from him seems to fly over your head. (As previously stated, you consider him so far out of your league that it simply doesn’t cross your mind as a possibility.) Reinhard can accept that. For now, at least, and as long as you do not take another.

He values the little pretend life you’ve built together, even though it’s built on an unsteady foundation. Reinhard starts to yearn for the next time he can spend moments by your side, that he can go ‘home’ and see your face light up. He doesn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to you. Because of that, he must ensure he stays close, though he cannot avoid being sent away more often than he’d like. Selfishly, he continues to pay for your things even as you gain the means to look after yourself. It makes him feel better about it all.

If Reinhard is a force of nature, then you are caught in the eye of the storm. There’s little he needs to do about things such as romantic rivals or possible dangers to your life. Reinhard van Astrea’s shadow looms over you through your close association alone, even if you aren’t aware of it, and shapes the way people carry themselves around you. In the case there were those who overstepped, a request from Reinhard would be enough to get them to back off.

He doesn’t want you to be unhappy, he truly doesn’t. But when you complain that you cannot seem to make real friends with anyone, that there’s always this kind of… Distance and discomfort you can’t explain, he’s a little happy that he’s there to fill that gap. Once he has the courage, he’ll tell you how he feels. Your response will dictate whether you stay stable, or get swept out in the currents.

[connorsui]

Wired for you

Billy Kid x Reader

Genre/warning: Fluff, Comedy, shyness factor boosted to a hundred, Billy being a tease, a robot wanting to be kissed by his favorite human (cuz why not), no warnings tho …we don't Rip out wires around here

Synopsis: Billy Kid finds himself falling in love with you repeatedly, captivated by your ability to light up his world. He loves praise.

Note: I fell inlove with him ...and what do I find? ..barely any fics ..so I made my own ..

w.c: 900

—

Billy Kid was no stranger to the thrill of a challenge. He had been built to navigate chaos, thrive in the fast-paced rhythm of battle, and laugh in the face of danger. But nothing, nothing, ever threw him off-kilter quite like you.

Your praises were like that first rush of energy when a mission began, crackling in the air between you two. Every word you said seemed to spark something inside him—he couldn’t call it a heartbeat, not technically, but it sure felt like one. It was almost laughable how an AI like him could feel so alive, so human, all because of the way you looked at him.

“You were incredible out there, Billy,” you’d say with a grin that could outshine the sun. His white hair would catch in the wind, and if he had a mouth, you’d see just how wide he'd be smiling. Instead, he had to settle for the flutter in his chest as he tried to play it cool. “You always manage to surprise me.”

But it was a big deal. Every time you believed in him, even after the smallest victories, it was like that rush of adrenaline, but softer, sweeter. He swore that if he had a pulse, it’d race every time you teased him. Your playful taunts after a rare misstep made him feel seen, like even his imperfections were worth loving.

You had this way of lighting him up, like a fuse to a firework, and it scared him how deep those feelings ran. They didn’t just short-circuit his systems but made him want to give you everything—the world, if he could. He tried to play it off as no big deal with that carefree attitude of his, but the truth? He couldn’t deny how you made his mind race and his processor hum differently when you were near.

“If I could, I’d show you how much I appreciate you every single day,” he’d say, his voice tinged with genuine affection. “I’d take on any challenge just to keep that smile on your face.”

And then there were the small things.

The way you’d laugh, soft and genuine, as you adjusted the collar of his red jacket. The way your fingers brushed the metal of his faceplate, where his lips should be, and how it sent an electric jolt through him.

“Uuughhhhhh—” he’d groan in a mix of frustration and delight, feeling the warmth of your touch.

“Billy, you alright?” you’d ask, concern laced in your tone.

“How much would it be to get a mouth implanted on this face!?” he’d joke, trying to mask his fluster with humor.

You didn’t even seem to realize how much those tiny gestures affected him. It was in those moments, those quiet pauses between the chaos, that he fell in love all over again.

He didn’t know how to express it, not in the way humans did. But he tried, in his own way. When your laughter broke through the noise of a hectic day, he’d turn towards you, eyes glowing with that unmistakable warmth.

“You’ve got a way of making everything better, you know that? I’d fight a hundred battles just to see you smile like that,” he’d confess.

You always made fun of how he’d grip your shoulders with that childlike enthusiasm, like you were the greatest discovery he'd ever made. But to Billy, that’s exactly what you were. His person. His constant.

“I’m not joking, sweetheart!” he’d say with a playful glint in his eyes. “If I had the Starlight Knight power, I’d use it just to make you happy!”

And every single time you cheered him on or smiled in his direction, Billy Kid fell in love again—just like the first time.

He loved, and loved, and loved so endlessly that if his hands weren’t already busy with whatever mission you both were on, he’d pull you close and show you just how much you meant to him. Instead, he opted for those softer moments. When the dust settled, he’d lean in just a bit closer so you could feel the quiet hum of his mechanics, hear the low purr of his systems running smoothly.

“You really are something special,” he’d murmur, his voice soft and tender. “Can’t believe I get to be around you.”

And you’d smile back, brushing your thumb over his faceplate, where his lips would be if he had any. “You’re special too, Billy. More than you know.”

If he could, he'd kiss you right then and there. But instead, he let your touch linger, letting it root itself deep in his core, just as it always did. For now, he settled for that spark between you, the kind that made his world light up in ways no program could ever predict.

God I wanna kiss him so bad

[fatuismooches]

Silly thought: What if the Traveller accidentally kidnaps Dottore's lover?

This will happen way before they meet them. The Traveller somehow, is able to sneak into the main lab of the Doctor and finds his test-subjects. Of course being the hero that they are, releases them and offers them refuge in the Teapot (I'm still pissed that the Teapot is hardly mentioned in main story quests it could be a Trojan horse but nooo)

They come across this 'test-subject' who has heavy security for some reason. Determined to not leave anyone behind, they break through the defences to get to the hapless 'civilian.'

The Traveller gets there and takes away the 'test-subject', the Traveller hopes that they wake up once they are in the Teapot.

[Dottore's spouse wakes up from their refreshing nap and finds themself in a completely different place with a lot of strangers. Why are Dottore's test-subjects out? Actually - where even are they?!

And Dottore returns to an empty lab 😋 rip to the Traveller. Dottore is going to rip Teyvat from the ground up and he wouldn't find his spouse until the Traveller makes the connection.]

The Traveler thought that they had prepared to the fullest, heading into Dottore's lab. Carefully scoping it out, even managing to get their hands on the mapped layout somehow, observing the patterns and schedules of the guards and agents who seemed to be placed everywhere... general sneaky stuff, that wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded as this had to do with the Doctor after all. Nothing was ever simple when it came to the Harbinger, but despite all odds, they got lucky, only because the segments were no more and they chose a day Dottore himself was not there (that was also painstakingly planned). Of course, once the Traveler successfully completed their mission and freed all those poor souls, they felt rather good about themselves. Any plan of the Doctor's thwarted was always a good thing.

When the Traveler comes across such someone so highly tucked away, they automatically assume the worst! You must be an invaluable test subject who provides him great research but through immeasurable pain (just look how tired you were)... one that he can't keep his eye off! What a terrible fate you've been subjected to, one at the hands of the mad Doctor! Worry not, the Traveler will save you (not)!

...However, the blond failed to obtain information on a very, very important factor - the little-known soft spot of Dottore.

Now poor you, expecting to wake up to a familiar ceiling and maybe even your husband's embrace, but instead the sky above is more blinding than anything you've witnessed in years. And there's a strange bird floating spirit thing. AND the infamous Traveler and Paimon are worrying over your well-being... even more so when you start getting overwhelmed knowing you're far, far away from Dottore.

Now of course, test subjects are just test subjects and although losing them was a waste, he could always procure some more. You, however, was a completely different story. Needless to say, the agents are quite scared to go near the Harbinger as they've rarely seen him in his state - absolutely silently seething. The only way to salvage the situation is that the Traveler just needs to hope a hair hasn't been touched on your pretty head.

(Cue the freak out between Paimon and them once they realize the truth. Even still, the Traveler is semi-convinced you might be brainwashed or something - the whole Akasha terminal thing in Sumeru was enough proof. They're a bit reluctant to hand you over but seeing the way you bolt toward the Doctor was enough to convince them...)

[bullseyelover]

random dex character analysis lol.

i’ve been thinking a lot about dex wearing the balaclava again in season 2 of born again and how strange that choice feels, especially considering everything he’s been through since season 3. in season 1, it makes sense. he was fresh out of the psych ward, still under vanessa’s control, and he believed the job was a one time thing. kill foggy and benjamin, and vanish. it was supposed to be clean, precise. so of course he wore the mask to protect his identity. he even threw a smoke bomb before entering josie’s not just to cause chaos, but probably to avoid being seen. it was meant to be surgical. like a professional hit.

but that’s not what happened. he doesn’t act like a methodical hitman in that scene, we know he is capable of being one but in this scene he’s not controlled. he’s unraveling. phil silvera (the stunt director for daredevil) said it himself that dex isn’t killing for the thrill, he’s killing anything he sees as a threat. at first, it’s just people with weapons. but he’s so on edge, so paranoid, that it spirals. soon, he’s killing people who haven’t even seen him. he’s trapped in this kill or be killed mindset, and the second someone flinches, he reacts. and when he finally snaps out of it just for a second he whispers, “what have you done?” like he blacked out. like he doesn’t even remember doing it. like he’s scared of what just happened because what was supposed to be a clean job had spiraled out of his control. but it doesn’t stop there. he keeps going because his body’s in survival mode. he doesn’t know what else to do.

then in season 2 he’s still wearing the balaclava. and yeah, visually i get it. the suit is striking. but narratively it doesn’t hold up. dex isn’t hiding anymore. everyone knows who he is. fisk knows, matt knows, the public knows. after the trial, his face and name are already tied to everything that happened at josie’s. his escape from prison was probably posted in the papers. there’s no anonymity left to protect. and honestly dex would want fisk to know it’s him. he want fisk to see his face while he tears his empire down. wearing the mask just feels off unless they’re gonna give us an in universe reason why. it can make sense considering the whole storyline with fisk hating vigilantes and people in masks and blah blah but he’d have to recreate that whole suit from scratch too. the old one would’ve been ripped up and in evidence custody.

it would actually be way scarier if dex didn’t wear a mask until he finally puts on the iconic bullseye mask from the comics. because when someone wears a mask to commit a crime, the implication is that they plan on people surviving. they’re hiding their identity for a reason. but someone like dex walking into a room with a knife and no mask, that’s terrifying. that means he doesn’t plan on leaving any witnesses. that means he doesn’t care if he’s recognized. that’s way more unhinged than anything else.

with dex wearing the balaclava you have to factor in his sensory issues. dex never wore a tie in season 3. his collars were always open, even in formal settings. to me, that’s a clear sign of sensory discomfort. and it tracks with him being neurodivergent, which we already know he is. the only time he ever wore tight clothing was the daredevil suit, and even that looked like it was pushing his limits. so wearing something like a balaclava which would be tight, hot, suffocating, that has to be overstimulating as hell. but maybe that’s the point. maybe it’s a way for him to punish himself. or maybe it helps him focus. it could be a kind of sensory grounding or even a trigger that helps him disassociate. like flipping a switch. putting on the mask could help him shut everything else out. turn into the version of himself that can kill then have a milkshake afterwards and not care about potential goodness, just revenge.

it makes sense when you realize he was going through withdrawal at josie’s. we saw the meds. that man was on at least eight pills, probably multiple times a day. a combo of SSRIs, benzos, antipsychotics, and mood stabilizers. not for healing, but for sedation. the system didn’t want to help him, they wanted to contain him. dull everything that made him him, but also what made him dangerous. and it worked. dex in episode 9 was barely responsive. sweaty, unfocused, dissociating out the window. couldn’t even hold a pen. he was being erased. and if vanessa hadn’t pulled him out, he would’ve stayed like that forever. but she didn’t save him, she just reactivated his pain.

dex going off all those meds cold turkey after nearly a decade would’ve been catastrophic both physically and mentally. we’re talking full system collapse. the benzos and antipsychotics alone would cause tremors, nausea, cold sweats, muscle cramps, disorientation, rebound paranoia, and emotional whiplash. his sleep would be wrecked, his coordination off. he’d probably be shaking, dizzy, hyper sensitive to noise and light. on top of that, he’s got to have chronic spinal pain from season 3, which the meds were likely numbing too so now it’s back in full force. and emotionally everything he’d been suppressing for eight years, the grief, the guilt, the rage, is coming back raw and unchecked. no regulation. no buffers. just pure nervous system overload. so when he walks into josie’s, he’s not walking in as a hired assassin. he’s walking in as someone with no brakes left. no filter between thought and action. it’s not all premeditated. it’s survival instinct. he’s scared. overstimulated. furious. and the second things go sideways, his brain goes straight to destroy the threat. and that’s what makes it so terrifying. he’s not in control. he’s reacting to a body and mind that’s been chemically shattered.

that’s what makes josie’s hit so messy. if he were in control, he could’ve just sniped foggy and vanished. clean and efficient. but that’s not what he does. he throws the smoke bomb, walks into the chaos, and kills two people immediately. he clearly dressed for a fight with his suit, knives, gloves but that doesn’t mean it was planned. he probably had less than two days between getting released and carrying out the hit. he had no time to recover. he was still in withdrawal. his brain chemistry was shot. physically, mentally, emotionally he’s fried. he’s walking into that scene running purely on instinct. just go, go, go. self preservation mode. there’s no grand plan.

but he has resentment, he says “hello, karen” like someone who hasn’t forgotten what she did. but that doesn’t mean he came there to go on a rampage. that part wasn’t intentional. it was triggered. and once it started, it couldn’t stop. and all of it. the withdrawal, the sensory overload, the fear, the rage gets projected into that suit. into that mask. into the version of himself who can’t feel anything but violence.

but he’s not bullseye yet. but he’s getting there. and maybe the scariest part is even he doesn’t know if he wants to stop. in season 2, dex wearing the same suit again but this time with a bullseye on the mask feels different. it’s not about hiding anymore. it’s not about the fisk’s orders. it’s about ownership. he’s not wearing the mask because he’s being used, he’s choosing it. and adding the bullseye symbol to the suit is his way of reclaiming everything that broke him. he wore the suit for vanessa at josie’s, but now he’s turning it into his own. whether that’s empowering or self destructive, it’s both. because for dex, violence and identity have always been intertwined. so putting a bullseye on his forehead is like saying fine this is what he is now. the fisks made him into this, so he’s gonna own it. even if it destroys him into becoming fully bullseye because maybe part of him thinks it’s the only identity that ever really fit even though deep down, he still doesn’t know who he is without someone else pulling the strings.

it’s important to remember that none of dex’s trauma, withdrawal, sensory issues, overmedication, or manipulation excuses what he’s done. not in season three, not at josie’s, not ever. he was always dangerous. even before fisk, dex was not an innocent man destroyed by a villain. he was already suffering and already volatile. he was already doing things that crossed lines. but he was trying. he had structure, he had control. he was holding himself together the only way he knew how. at the start of season three he could be considered an antihero. not someone good, but someone trying to be, in his own way. and that’s what makes his downfall so brutal. because fisk didn’t create the monster, he used what was already there. he took dex’s mental illness, his loneliness, his desperation for meaning and connection, and he weaponized it. he groomed him. exploited his pain. and then when dex outlived his usefulness, he threw him away.

but dex was always in control of his actions. he made the choices, even though he was manipulated into them and now he’s living with the consequences of them. understanding his story isn’t about excusing what he did it’s about seeing the full truth of who he is. after the events of season three, the court didn’t send him to prison. they sent him to a psychiatric facility. that tells you everything. they saw someone beyond punishment, someone they didn’t even think could be rehabilitated. not a man who needed help, but one who needed to be contained. to be silenced. sedated. erased.

and that’s what makes his return in born again so compelling and so tragic. because he’s not quiet anymore. season two could show us a man who’s clawing his way back to himself. not fully bullseye yet, not fully lost either. he wants revenge and autonomy. and if there’s a “good” way to get it, maybe he’ll take it. but if there’s not, he’ll burn every bridge without hesitation. dex should become a supervillain, that is what the character of bullseye needs to be. wilson bethel said dex’s arc is about redemption but not in the way you expect. and maybe that’s because real redemption for dex isn’t about being a hero, it’s about being honest. it’s about accepting who he is which is someone the system failed, someone who tried to be good, someone who was broken and used and manipulated but who still gets up. who still fights. but not to be a hero, but to be truly and unashamed in who he is.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕤 . 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙

fandom: hazbin hotel

relationship: adam x demon!reader

summary: When fate hands you an angelic blade during an extermination, you take a bold risk, catching the first man’s eye.

additional tags: afab!reader, gender neutral pronouns, reader is a hellborn, slow burn, unlikely friends to lovers, star crossed lovers, mild ooc, canon critical, nuance, actually discussing morality, challenging stereotypes, crisis of identity, charlie’s plan is stupid, reader is an imp/succubus mix, eventual plot twist

a/n: dividers provided by @cafekitsune and header image made by me on BeFunky

Hell was made up of nine circles, seven of which were ruled over by the embodiments of the Deadly Sins, one of which you were born in. Surprisingly, the place actually got more and more idealistic the further down you went, and seeing as Pride was all the way at the top, you could say it was sort of like Hell’s version of LA or NYC, the big city where if you could make it there, you could make it anywhere. And on that note… it kinda sorta majorly sucked. 

Maybe it was just you and your own personal biases, but in comparison to the other rings of Hell, in your own opinion, the Greed Ring was the only thing that could compete with the first circle of Hell, if it weren’t for one single factor. 

Sinners. 

For some reason or another, when humans died, no matter the sin, they would all be confined to the pride ring upon arrival. And after spending several years observing not only Hell, but the people on Earth who would later be sent to Hell upon their inevitable deaths, you could confidently say that among other things, these damned souls were a big factor in what made the first ring of Hell so awful. Murderers, predators, abusers, manipulators, all these people who behaved more like parasites rather than human beings, heartlessly taking from the world in whatever form they desire in order to exploit whatever it has to offer. Sure, it was Hell, an inferno of evil and misery, but in your eyes, people like that only made it all the worse.

You couldn’t believe you had forgotten about Extermination Day. Seriously, it was marked on your calendar and the 666 News had even announced it a week in advance. 

You had just been walking the streets of the city when the sky suddenly opened up in a bright golden ring and the next thing you knew, you were hunkering down and watching Heaven’s army slaughter as many human souls as they could get their hands on, weapons shimmering with divine judgement. But you weren’t scared. Not only because Lucifer’s rule granted demons like you a pardon from exterminations, but you felt some odd sense of satisfaction. 

And now, here you stood, holding an angelic weapon you had found buried in the head of a sinner that somewhat resembled a chameleon with small black horns and spines protruding out of her back and tail. Looking down at the weapon in your hand, you caught your reflection in the shimmering blood-stained steel, and you could have sworn this was fate. 

You thanked your succubus parent in your head as you spread your wings out, gently stretching them before you took off into the air, holding the spear in your hands similarly to how you had previously observed exorcist angels wielding their own weapons. Within seconds, you had your eyes locked on a target and swerved around to cut them off at the pass, so to speak. They didn’t even see you until the very last second, allowing you to see the horror in their eyes the second before your blade sliced through the collar. Placing one foot on their shoulder, you yanked the barbed blade free, staining your ripped jeans with wine red splatters.

And all of a sudden you felt more powerful than ever before, unstoppable even, as an excited grin split across your face and you took off into the air and your eyes locked on a new target. The only thing you were missing was a badass music score.

Only a few hours in and heaven’s army had wiped out enough sinners to fill the center of Pentagram City. Multiple areas had been cleared out, and any trace of whatever soul was previously running it was gone with the ashes, now sitting in wait for any future demons to fight for the territory. The monochromatic uniforms worn by the exorcists stood out in stark contrast amongst the crimson soaked city. It was a bit of an eyesore, especially in comparison to the light and gentle colors of heaven, or the diverse hues of the Earth. The one who stood out amongst the army was the leader, who was currently striking sinners with flashes of holy light from his fingers, as his right hand wasn’t too far off. 

But then, there was a new figure amongst the carnage. Out of his peripheral, Adam caught a shimmer of an angelic weapon dashing through the air, but the wielder’s colors were not in uniform with his army. His gaze automatically followed, and he saw you swoop down towards the streets, swinging the weapon in your hands and slicing right through a sinner’s neck. You flew back up to perch yourself on a fire escape, allowing Adam to get a proper view of you. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized you as a hellborn. 

And you were killing sinners, and going by the little smile on your face as you wiped your forehead with your arm, you were having fun. Adam’s eyes were stuck on you for a good moment before Lute called for him. 

“Sir, the troops are moving.” 

“Lute, are you seeing this shit?” Adam asked, casually pointing in your direction. Lute’s gaze followed, and her usually stern and calculative expression shifted to one of surprise as she witnessed you take out another damned soul, this time by impaling them from the back. She could see it, but she could hardly believe it. 

A hellspawn wielding an angelic weapon and using it for its intended purpose. Definitely something neither of them were expecting to see today. “Should we do something about this?” she wondered aloud. It wasn’t necessarily that she thought you were a threat, at least not in this situation, but it disturbed her to think of how you may have gotten your hands on a holy blade.

Adam glanced between you and her for a second before coming to a conclusion. “You lead the troops to the east border zone, I’ll handle this. Rendezvous at the Mange district in five.” he instructed, pointing in the designated direction.

  “Yes sir.” Lute replied, albeit with a trace of hesitation in her voice, before she turned and flew back towards the rest of the army, while Adam went the opposite direction to follow you, keeping just enough distance as to not draw too much attention. He needed to see more of this.

He watched as you moved swiftly and struck quicker than some of his own girls did. One might even describe your hits as merciless, but the way you seemed to use the element of surprise on your targets granted them the mercy of a quick and sudden death. Or perhaps you preferred to not waste time. But by the looks of it, one of them was looking to get the jump on you while you caught your breath. Sinners didn’t typically bother trying to fight back against the exorcists, seeing as angels were invincible to weapons, whether they be from Hell or Earth. But you weren’t an angel, you were susceptible to weapons, and unlike sinners, if you were killed, there was no reviving. 

Adam’s hand moved without a second thought and in a second, the little shit was reduced to ashes.

Nice try, fuckhead. 

On the other hand, the blast of light from behind you startled you so bad you let out a short scream and shot up into the air, spinning around to see what the fuck just happened, still whiteknuckling the weapon in your hands. All you saw was the same old dirty street littered with corpses and a serrated dagger sitting in the middle of the street, mere meters away from where you had been previously standing.

“Hey.” 

Someone talking right behind you made you jump and turn around, and the sight you were met with nearly caused your wings to give out. The large golden wings and bright halo were a dead giveaway, you were flying mere meters away from the leader of the angelic army, who not only towered over you even when flying, but was also staring you down with an indecipherable look on his face, or rather his mask.

Ohhhhh… fuck. 

Adam scoffed out a chuckle, seeing your thoughts written all over your face. “Don’t piss yourself, I’m not gonna kill you. Couldn’t even if I wanted to anyway.” Adam explained, before pointing to the weapon in your grasp. “Just wanted to know where you got that.” 

You looked between him and your blade for a second, before finally finding your voice. “Oh, I just- I plucked it from a corpse.” you explained, eyes darting around a bit as you jut a thumb downward. You watched his expression as he seemed to gauge you, looking you up and down. “I’m sorry, should I… not have done that, or-?”  

Adam held a hand up, prompting you to stop mid sentence. “Heaven Embassy, this time, week from tomorrow.” he instructed- more like ordered- plain and simple. It took you a second to fully realize what he was telling you, but once you did, you straightened your back and held your head up. 

“Got it.” You could just barely contain the excitement in your voice. “Um, do you want this back when this is all done?” you asked, holding up the weapon in your hand. Adam seems a little surprised by your question, before he just smirked and shrugged.

“Nah, you hold onto it. Now,” Adam clapped his hands together and with a flash of golden light manifested a huge electric guitar with a color scheme to match his own, that apparently doubled as a battle axe. “Back to business. See you next week, and don’t be late!”

As Adam left, you stayed in your place for a moment, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Snapping out of it, you returned to your objective, not even that upset that you lost track of your kill count. Head in the game. 

The bells tolled, the day was over. Your eyes drifted upwards towards the crimson skies as the heavenly portal reopened and the angelic army began to retreat back to their own realm. You may never know exactly what possessed you to spread your wings and take off into the air, despite only having so much stamina left. 

Luckily, your wings carried you just far enough for you to come to rest atop a tower, hooking your weapon on its spire and watching the exorcists ascend to heaven with a sense of wonder, but also a twinge of melancholy, longing for a light you knew you would never truly know. But perhaps getting to be this close could be just good enough for you. And hey, there was always Earth’s sunrises and sunsets, which were just as good. 

As the portal to heaven closed again, the clock tower tolled on, and the countdown reset back to 365.

Now may be a good time for you to head home. 

It took a little longer than normal to return home, considering you needed to keep a low profile and you were carrying an angelic weapon with you, especially having to smuggle that shit through Elevator 666 to get back to your home in the Lust Ring. And by a little longer, I mean by the time you were at your front door, the day was already half over. 

Once in the safety and privacy of your own abode, you spent a good twenty minutes cleaning as much blood as you could from your clothes, and then the blade before you tucked it away somewhere out of sight. Exhaustion took its toll as you fell backwards onto your bed, now in a different change of clothes. Turning over on your side, you grabbed your phone, still on its charger, and opened you routine apps, checking notifications and other such whatever. 

Then you remembered what Adam had told you before, ‘Heaven Embassy, this time, week from tomorrow.’ 

You decided to set a reminder on your phone now before you forgot. Once you saved the date, you wriggled around to get yourself under the covers, deciding to nap now and shower later. Midnight showers became more common for you ever since you moved into your own place. Within minutes, your eyes felt heavy, your breathing evened out, and rest began to overtake you, and you drifted off to sleep, smiling to yourself. 

The week couldn’t go by fast enough.

[One week later…]

After knocking out all your chores for the day, your phone pinged with the reminder you had set, ‘Heaven Embassy, tomorrow,’ while you were in the kitchen making yourself something to drink. Nibbling on your lower lip in excitement, you took a seat down on the couch and flipped your TV on so you could watch the same six episodes of your favorite show over and over.

“Breaking news in hell today!” exclaimed the unmistakable voice of news anchor, Katie Killjoy, as Channel 666 News interrupted your streaming time, giving you a small startle. Although you were initially annoyed at the disturbance, that annoyance quickly melted away as you listened to the news report. As the feed switched over to the giant hourglass in the pride ring, panning upward to show the countdown go from 358 to 176. 

No fucking way.

“Yes!!” you shouted with delight as you shot up from your seat, accidentally knocking your drink over, but you didn’t quite care at the moment as thrilled laughter filled your apartment. The day just got a whole lot better.

kudos to my mom for beta reading <3

tag list 🏷️ @circescircle @cosmiiwrites @angelicpoison12 @activesplooger @ithopi0s (comment if you’d like to be added on) @villainsimpqueen

[newkatzkafe2023]

What if wukong verse x wolverine reader who said they regenerate faster than a normal human and did not elaborate further until an enemy impaled them with a spear than pulled it out and return to sender

Wolverine is one of my favorite iconic X-man🤩

(Lmk Wukong) I mean that happens to him too but he Genuinely thinks you are joking. Until one day when he was on a date with you, and you both were attacked by another one of his enemies. All large spear was shot though your stomach making Wukong froze pale in his face. His life with you had flashed before his eyes as he watched you fall over with a traumatized look on his face, and he turned to face the Assailant and get complete bloody revenge on them. Although before he can he saw the spear be thrown back at them totally surprising him. After that Wukong vowed never to doubt or leave you vulnerable ever again.

(NR Wukong) WOW really that is quite something, no he totally believed what you told him. Yeah he doesn't totally believe and honestly found it to be far fetch, I mean he knew about your healing but He thought it was for scratches or bruises. Until one night Wukong had brought you out to a nightclub because it was his turn for date night, and soon found these guys Harassing you when he left to get a drink. He saw you growling and was immediately pissed and told them to go away, And It was no time before a fight broke out and one of them stabbed you making Wukong pale and angry. When Wukong ran to help you, you easily took the knife out and brought out your claws and shredded those losers. At the end he was relieved for you to be ok and found your claws to be attractive.

(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh please you don't have to try hard to impress him he loves you already🙄😒. You told him that you have a healing factor and Regeneration abilities one random day, but Wukong had a difficult time believing it but considering You didn't go further With the conversation, He thought you were joking. Until he quickly learn that you weren't especially helping him protect his master, had jumped infront of the monk and sandy protecting the Two and a pair of spears went right though your torso. Scarying the crap out of the pilgrims and making Wukong see black and absolutely murdering the bandits that possibly killed you but he saw the same to spears kill the last two and Wukong looked over to see that you were alive. Well you had Two large holes in your back and chest, but still alive and joined him in the fight after all that Wukong held you very close to him.

(HIB Wukong) You would put so much stress on him with your power and fighting style. You told him about your power of healing and regeneration abilities, but his stupid ass took it lightly. Which was a huge mistake on his part because when you guys got attack by one of those dragons you ran to get silly girl except you were ran though by a large claw ripped though you scaring Wukong and making silly girl cry. But you quickly bounced back and fought and killed the dragon. In the end, you had to calm down both crying daughter and your sweet traumatized husband.

(Netflix Wukong) WHOAAA HOLY CRAP his life with you just flashed before his eyes oh god its Terrible!!!!😨😨😨 you had not gotten around this big dramatic baby that you had regeneration powers especially during battle. Let me explain it happened during a demon attack at his village but unfortunately he was getting out numbered which led you to step in to help his sorry ass. Wukong never like involving you in any of these fights because he scared of you getting hurt or killed, but then you had bought out your own claws to take those guys out. Then suddenly a demon stabbed though you, making Netflix pale and scream at the sight thinking he just lost you when suddenly you yanked the Thagger out and threw it back at him. At the end Netflix never doubted you as he cuddle close to you shooken.

(BMW Wukong) Would absolutely want to test that theory but not at the expense of you life. Wukong was immediately impressed by your so called powers but he makes extra sure that you don't get hurt by himself and his enemies but it didn't stop the idoits from trying. You sat on the side as your husband was yet again challenged by another idoit demon who wants to get famous by being the monkey king. Until one had come with a partner and planned to kill you infront of Wukong, which is why an arrow was shot at you knocking you out of the tree you were sitting in. Wukong blood lost shot though the roof and he savagely attack the demon that shot you, afterwards you came out of the bushes pulling that said arrow our your midsection and your worried husband took you home to heal and rest.

(Destined one) Ohhhhhhhhhh, that's crazy because he can do that too, but really, the destined one gets very wary of your powers and abilities. A lot of it sounds like it hurts. So the destined one made sure to monitor you and would take extra care to make sure you don't overdo it, especially in fights you both would get into sometimes. Until one day their may have been an ambush and you were shot with a few arrows alerting and frightening your husband, and it was one of the rare times you saw him lost his temper and savagely fight the enemies who dare to hurt you. You were also quick to join the fight while pulling out the arrows that hit you and attack them back for scaring you poor sweet husband, at the end the destined one sat close next to you and wrapped you injuries why kissing and snuggling you.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[zagreusapollyon]

The lack of Neptune material is an absolute travesty.

You're telling me, the Roman version of Poseidon, does not even get an appearance???

I shall now take upon myself to remedy this.

So

Neptune headcanons:

He's not as volatile as Poseidon. he doesn't get angry or insulted as easily either, but this does not mean he will not respond to you blatantly insulting him. There will be consequences to it.

He is arguably more possessive than Poseidon, especially when it comes to his offspring. He's incredibly controlling of his children's lives, often to a damaging degree. If the phrase "helicopter parent" had a personification, it would be this dude.

He does not give a fuck whether a child is his or from his counterpart. You are his no matter what you say, no, you are not escaping from him either.

To add to the last point, this man was seething when he found out Percy was at camp Jupiter, for the sheer factor of not being able to claim him. He went absolutely batshit crazy on Hera after that. He spent 80 YEARS not having a child, and the second he found out that he does it was ripped away from him.

He doesn't really use a human form. He just can't be bothered with it, why would he? He's just gonna appear to people as a humanoid blob of water and temporarily sends them to the underworld. He unironically throws water on his kids as a form of affection.

Percy both loves him and is scared of him. Neptune is completely unaware of this and just keeps grinning at Percy with his monstrous-looking ass teeth. Percy spends five days asking Poseidon if he has them too after that. (He does, not that he tells Percy, but he does.)

Neptune actually has a decent relationship with his brother, Jupiter. Jupiter regularly visits his brother and they gossip about their Greek sides.

Do tell me if you want another one of these for other gods in the asks! :)

[akutasoda]

my silence is my cowardice

prompt - words left unsaid

including - boothill

warnings - gn!reader, slight fluff, angst no comfort, wc - 855

a/n: req by the lovely icarus ( @fxngtasy / @rusted-pride ) <3 -> "if the new years reqs are still open,,,, perchance,,,z, perhaps,,,,,,,,, boothill,,,,,,,? mayhaps? no pressure of course tho if theyve all filled up ^u^ he just seems like he might fit w some of the prompts"

boothill was never one for sentiments.

he wasn't even someone who was good with words, so holding a sentiment was rather out of the galaxy rangers field.

perhaps it was due to the fact that he was a galaxy ranger - they didn't exactly live the most social lifestyles. or maybe it was due to the fact that bounty hunting wasn't a job for those who liked to socialise and spend time with people.

but whatever it was, boothill was perfectly comfortable with drifting through the cosmo's on his own. when he had a goal in mind and knew how to achieve it, that was his priority. finding the scum who ruined his life was always going to be his priority until he completed it.

he never really thought that he'd have anyone else in his life that he cared about more than his late family. staying in one place was an impossible occurrence and so he never developed deeper bonds with people than a friendly face value - he knew some other galaxy rangers and were quite well acquainted with them, but that wasn't exactly the same.

and yet here you were.

boothill had stayed a bit too long on the current planet and became quite well acquainted with you, the local who had accommodated him and even helped him with finding his way around.

and even with what little actual time he had spent in your company, he'd grown very fond of your presence. so much so that it was still quite a shock to him just how much you'd grown on him.

boothill could even be attributed to still being in denial that you'd grown on him so much. but the truth was there.

and it was evident by many different factors. namely that boothill longed for presence, everytime you weren't near he found himself wondering what you could be doing or how long it would be before he saw you again.

frankly, it was quite unbecoming of him.

boothill didn't like it one bit. it wasn't like him to care this much about someone else, especially one who he hadn't known for that long and so, it scared him.

everytime he caught himself feeling any kind of positive emotion toward you, he caught himself and near forced himself to snap out of it. he couldn't afford to form attachments to people - and even if he could, he didn't know how and the constant fear of losing the ones he loved was a constant nagging in the back of his mind.

afterall, you can't lose what you can't have.

“are you sure we can't meet again or keep in contact?” you poised, staring at the cowboy as he prepared to make his departure

he let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

but he was lying, and saying it through his teeth would've made him feel worse about it. boothill could always visit you or even give you his contact but he couldn't bring himself to do either.

he desperately wanted to, but he had to hold himself back.

so he stayed silent - it seemed cold and much too distant to still be the man you'd known before. boothill feared that if he allowed himself to speak, he would not be able to depart and leave you behind. that he would start getting his feelings off his chest and establish his desired attachment to you.

but it was best for him to stay quiet. he wasn't ever good with words anyway.

he'd been close to people before to know what happens when they get ripped away from him. his entire world gone up in flames within seconds. having people to care about never ended well for him.

and it certainly wouldn't now either. he couldn't go through that again.

some may call it the coward's way out, himself included, but boothill bid his farewell with as little words as he possibly could and prepared himself to go about his life as usual, before he'd met you. but you could tell something was off and boothill could see it on your face.

it pained him, you clearly showed care and concern for him and yet here he was treating you like someone he'd hunt down. he closed his eyes and sucked in a harsh breath.

boothill left without another word or even glance in your direction.

a harsh farewell to someone he cared about deeply but couldn't face to stay around anymore.

he really was a coward.

[naomikozura]

Playing With Fire: Chapter 3

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, angst (slight) violence, mention of weapons, use of bombs (slight), use of weapons, bodily violence, attempted murder, drinking, some sexual themes (slight), breaking into homes, stalking (if you squint) (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 10.7K

Summary: Killing men is almost as easy as seducing them…. almost. Your job to get in contact with Penguin’s potential new partner comes easy, convincing him to work with your side of the crime ring should be simple. Not when a specific someone doesn’t know his boundaries, especially when it comes to your personal affairs.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Another day, another mission, another raid by the son of a bitch. You had just about enough of his stupid games. You were currently hiding and spying in on one of his hidden locations, trying to dismantle his operations one by one.

You had placed a series of explosives around the shipment he had, planning to destroy it all, and so you waited patiently on the roof of the building just a block away, saying through your goggles and watching as he held his AK-47 in hand and looked over the men packing up the crates for delivery.

You waited a few minutes before you felt the vibration in your wrist go off. Perfect timing. You thought as you watched the crates implode and cause a massive cloud of smoke around all of the men, the explosions getting louder and bigger with each one that detonated. You smirked at yourself.

$100K gone.

You watched as Red’s men scrambled to find the source, his eyes narrowed as he looked up, his eyes meeting yours knowing he had zoomed in his helmet’s software. You smirked at him, waving as he grabbed the sniper off the ground next to him and aiming at you.

Not today motherfucker.

Another explosion went off, causing Red to lose balance, seeing the anger in his body language as you stood and ran off to the other buildings, disappearing as you hid in the night.

You: 1

Red: 0

But your lead was short lived, a few days later you had another run in, this time he found a job you were on. You were trying to get information from another server database, only to find him already there. You saw the hard drive in his hand, chasing after him as he escaped into the underground train system.

You threw a star at him, causing a rip in his thigh but he recovered quickly by shooting at you, slowing you down but missing as you tried catching up to him. You pulled out your own gun, shooting at his feet causing him to trip and you jumped, kicking him in the head and seeing the crack of his helmet. How thick was that thing that could survive so many of your kicks?!

He grabbed your arm, flinging you over his shoulder as your back slammed to the ground with force. You grunted as you tried to stand, his boot connecting with your side as he kicked you towards the ledge of the ramp. Your body struggled to get ahead, but you felt his boot dig into your shoulder, your head leaning over the edge as you struggled.

He was trying to fucking kill you and you were not about ti give him the satisfaction. He leaned down, his knee now digging into your shoulder to hold you in place as his gloved hand grabbed your face, forcing you to look at his ominous stare. His helmet was bright red like blood, and you knew his hands were covered in it. Gotham ran red because of him and he loved it.

“Scared of a little train?”

“More like I’m scared of that ugly face of yours”, you spit out as he wrapped his hand around your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply to make you pass out while forcing your head down over the ledge. Your body was in fight or flight as he slowly started to hold his weight, torturing you with the psychological factor of if he holds you here, you get hit by the train, you die. He was elongating the torture to get at you.

You heard the rumble of the train from the floor, your body going into overdrive. His grip stayed on your throat, slowing crushing your windpipe and causing you to see black points in your vision, the lack of oxygen causing you to almost lose consciousness.

“Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got more fight in you than this' ', he mocked, your hands trying to loosen his grip, pulling at his hands but his grip only tightened into an iron grip. “I’m sure you’re just as pretty with your head off your shoulders''

The sound of the whistle from the train slowly got louder and louder, your panic setting in but you covered it up well. You reached for your knife, slicing at his arm and maiming his skin. He only sucked in a painful breath, before lifting your body and slamming it against the concrete. You could feel the train getting closer and his intent getting stronger.

You slid your leg in between the two of you, using it to push him off of you and your force pushing you onto the train tracks, your body hitting the heavy metal with force. You couldn’t breathe. You were disoriented. You tried pushing yourself up, your vision hazy.

You tried standing, your body still crouched as the rumble of the train came by. It was about to be here. You needed to get out. Now.

You tried to focus, once you stood you were met with Red pointing his Jericho 941 at you.

“Move and I’ll shoot”, he threatened.

He was forcing you into a corner….

This was his payback for the bomb and the roof.

Fuck!

The train’s headlights shined at you, the blaring honk sounding out and rattling you to your core. Red’s lock on you didn’t falter. You had about five seconds to get out and live or stay and get smashed into nothing.

The train was going at least 200 miles an hour, you waited until it was only a few mere meters before you ducked at the sound of Red’s gun shooting off, the bullet digging into your shoulder as the train sped by, your body launching itself onto the opposing platform. Your arm is burning in pain.

The son of a bitch shot you.

You quickly ran with the train, looking over and seeing Red running alongside you on the opposite side through the gaps in between the cars. You needed to get the hell out of here.

You kept running down the platform, once the train passed completely watching as Red jumped from his side over to yours, the stomp of his boots loud as he bolted towards you.

You had a good gain on him but he was fast. If you could reach the stairs you’d be able to get away from him. But just as you reached the first flight you felt him grab you, pulling you back down and slamming you against the wall.

His helmet got close to your face, his eyes narrowed and you had daggers of your own. You struggled against him, but stopped when he dug his hand into the gunshot wound you had. You let out a scream, the pain burning through your body as the adrenaline pumped through your veins.

“I love making little errand rats scream.” he whispered. “Teaches them to stay in their fucking place”, you lifted your legs, kicking at him as he pulled you down with him, your bodies falling to the ground as he landed on top of you.

“You’re a fighter. I’ll give you that.” you continued trying to get at him, pushing your body out from under him, reaching for your gun only to feel him weigh you down with his body. Forcing your arm behind your back as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing down on your throat. “Who said you could leave?”

The position was painful, your injured arm would probably get infected if he didn’t stop fucking with it. You kept trying to move away, your energy running out from the adrenaline wearing off and the pain settling in.

“You need to learn better, Sweetheart. You’re nothing without Penguin behind you”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child!”, you forced out, your anger still deep in your soul. Your hair stuck to your face because of the sweat, your body shutting down at the wound taking over your senses. Red looked at you before he laughed deeply.

“Black Mask knows what he’s getting into, I wouldn't expect Penguin’s little pet to understand that.”

“L-Let… me- go..”, you choked out, your vocal chords being crushed under the weight of his arm. His crimson covered head moved closer, almost like his mouth was next to your ear.

“Deliver a message to the fat ass you call a boss and that piece of shit Sionis.”, his distorted voice commanded. You felt the air leaving your lungs as you reached a hand up to try and loosen his grip, only to cause him to narrow his eyes and tighten his hold.

“Tell them Gotham will run red soon. And it won’t be my blood painting the city if they decide to refuse my demands.”.

Your eyes nearly closed due to the lack of oxygen, but after a few seconds you felt your body get tossed to the ground like a rag doll. You tried to catch your breath but you felt weak, you had been deprived of air for too long. All you saw was that red helmet looking down at you before he disappeared, the pain flowing through your body as you gave into the tiredness and the extent of your wounds.

•

•

•

Soreness overtook your body, the timing in your ears causing your head to hurt. You forced your eyes open only to see the empty underground train station. Nothing but dried blood on the ground from your shoulder wound. You pushed yourself up, your shoulder burning as the pain shot through your body. Your arm was sore and burned, it left you frustrated. You wanted to find the son of a bitch and rip his eyes out.

Red would meet his match, you just needed to hit him when he was at his weakest, catch him off guard. You knew you’d have the upper hand and it would be the only way to get him to buckle.

Your goal was to take him down and it would give you everything. The bounty. The protection. The reputation. You would be the one who took down the Red Hood. You would have it all and you wouldn’t need Penguin’s name for anything anymore.

You pushed yourself off the ground, your arm limp as a wave of pain flooded you again. You needed to clean the wound and wrap it, the fucker probably risked getting it infected.

You pulled yourself through the streets, your legs shaky but you found your way back to your apartment, stripping your body of your bloody clothes and hopping into the shower. You let the warm water rinse off all the sweat, blood, and dirt from your body, the steam covering you in a comforting blanket. Your head hung under the water, your arm feeling better under the warmth. You had a few other cuts and sore spots that you knew would leave bruises but nothing else worried you. You needed to disinfect and wrap your arm, rest was also on the agenda since you’d been up for almost 26 hours before you ran into Red and had him knock you out.

You wrapped yourself in a towel and stepped out of the shower an hour later, your body relaxed after having so much built up tension. You cleaned all your wounds and wrapped your arm after pouring alcohol and ointment on it.

Once you were done, you let yourself fall on the bed, wearing only your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Your head lolled to the side, noting the time.

It was barely 6am.

You could probably get a few hours of sleep before heading to the Lounge. You set the alarm, letting your eyes close and fall into a slumber from exhaustion and not being suffocated. You needed rest. Your eyes closed as the sun had barely started rising.

“It looks a lot better than it did a few days ago. Just keep putting the medicine on it and keep it wrapped”, the doctor said as he finished wrapping your arm. The soreness is still present after three days.

Penguin had taken you off patrol to recover from your fight with Red. It gave you the perfect time to go in and work on the Calvi case. It required no real physical activity and your arm was still healing so it was the better option.

You slid your top back over your head, slowly guiding your arm through the sleeve and rolling it to loosen the stress.

The day continued as normal, Penguin giving you intel, you finding more information on Calvi, and eventually making it through to find out where his routine spots were.

You managed to get dressed for the night, letting Penguin know your communications wouldn’t be as frequent in order to successfully pull this through.

The mid thigh dress loosely hung on your body, tight enough to show your figure but loose enough to make your curves smooth delicately. Your hair framing your face in a loosely done blowout. Your make up was simple, but you applied a dark red lipstick making your lips appear more seductive. It was always the best way to get men to give you everything you wanted.

You had made your way to Upper Gotham, calling a private car to take you to the Sapphire. An upscale, luxury club that only elite members could enter into. Luckily for you, you managed to bypass the system and register yourself as a top paying member, as well as getting you the exclusive induction card that only elite members had. No one knew what it looked like except those members. Luckily for you getting yours wasn’t too hard. Just a couple strings pulled and boom, you had it.

You walk up to the concierge, sliding your card as the screen flashes green and she lets you walk by. You followed into the main hall, the room full of all kinds of people from every rich family in the city. You recognized businessmen, stock brokers, luxury goods traders, liquor tyrants, everyone who was anyone would come to the club. Especially during the weekend once the offices closed.

You skimmed the room quickly, your outfit helping you blend into the crowd and gave off a silent luxury appeal, not too loud, but not too obviously fake. The dress was simple, classy, and anyone with a good eye could recognize the vintage piece from a mile away. You needed to blend in after all.

You moved through the room, your eyes keeping focused on the bar as you sat on one of the stools, leaning forward as the bartender placed a napkin down, asking for your drink order. You quickly told him a glass of the house red, you didn’t need to be inebriated tonight. You needed to focus.

Once the bartender returned, you picked up the glass and sipped the bold drink as you let the taste seep into your tastebuds. It was rich even for a house wine.

There were a few men playing chess at the table across the room, each one focused on calculative thoughts before moving a piece across the board. You always knew that life was like a game of chess. The better at the game, the better you were at playing your cards in real life. It wasn’t hard to navigate anything, though it required training and skill. Something you had spent the last six years trying to perfect. It was airtight. At least, as close to it as you could possibly get.

A form moving from the entrance caught your eye. He had dark hair that was slicked back, a dark suit fitted to his body that almost melded perfectly. He was tall, built, and had an aura of sophistication floating around him.

Calvi.

He walked over to the men playing chess, shaking their hands as you focused in on what they could possibly be talking about. They all laughed and you tried to make yourself not stand out for staring so long. The glass of wine touched your lips again before setting it down, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as you made eye contact with him. His eyes focused on you as you moved your hair back, reeling him in just like you wanted.

He excused himself, motioning to the bar and the men nodded, continuing their game as you swiveled back towards the counter and feeling his gaze on your back like a burning fire.

Too easy.

“Is this seat taken?’, his deep voice rang out, looking up you noticed his dark eyes held intent in them, strong and committed.

“No. Go ahead.”, you motioned softly as you let your hair fall over your shoulder as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“Whisky. Neat, please.”, he motioned to the bartender as he quickly nodded, starting to prepare his drink. Once the drink was set in front of him, he took a sip then turned towards you. “I’ve never seen you here before. Are you new?”

“I am. My name is Vivian”, you responded before taking another sip of your wine. “Got an invite from a colleague of mine, said this is one of the most exclusive clubs in Gotham and figured I had to check it out after getting such a kind invite.”

“It’s the most exclusive and holds all the most influential people in Gotham.”, he mentioned before leaning back smoothly, his confidence radiating off his body. It was a good thing he was attractive because this would be so much harder if he wasn’t. “My name is Calvi Calbera”.

“So, I take it that you’re a part of Gotham’s influential elite?”, your eyes couldn’t have held more seductiveness to them even if you tried, his body language giving away that you had him reeled in.

“Probably one of the most influential.”, he smirked, bringing his glass to his lips before setting it down gently on the counter. “I work in the luxury goods market. Seems to bring in a lot of revenue when you work with… delicacies.”

“Any ones in particular that you like?”

“Diamonds. They’re the most expensive and most worth the investment.”, you didn’t miss how his eyes trailed down your body, your dress clinging to your curves and the smooth skin of your legs showing off as you crossed them slightly. It didn’t take a genius to guess what he was thinking of. “You should come by my estate. We can talk more about them in private, in the comfort of a home.”

You wanted to cringe at his offer. His estate. You just remembered exactly why you hated the majority of the rich people in Gotham. You forced your face to stay neutral, your eyes flickering to your glass before taking the last sip of the wine.

“If you have some good red, and something worthwhile, I’ll consider it.”, you placed a hand on his knee, smiling at him with a sweet look on your face. Sweet yet seductive. It made him latch onto the bait. He leaned in, taking out a business card and handing it to you.

“Here’s the address, come on Saturday. When you arrive tell them you have an appointment with me.”, his voice was laced with lust, you could even see the tightness of his pants. You just did your finishing move, looking at his eyes before flickering quickly to his lips, then quickly back to his gaze seeing the growing darkness in his hues. Your face leaned into his, your hand moving slowly up his leg and slightly on his thigh.

“I look forward to it.”, you smiled at him, grabbing your purse and leaving a $100 on the counter before walking away, his eyes on you as you walked out confidently but slowly so he could reel more into the trap you laid out.

Once you reached the outside of the building, your car pulled up, the valet opening the door as you stepped inside and got comfortable. You gave the driver your address as he started following his GPS.

You looked at the card Calvi gave you, looking at the information and finding out his estate was about 30 minutes outside of the main parts of the city. Gotham Heights. The rich and powerful all lived on this side of the city.

You committed to memorizing the address, tucking it into your purse as the driver arrived at your complex, tipping the driver before heading up the elevator and pushing through the door of your apartment.

It was late, looking at the clock as it read 10pm.

You really shouldn’t have stayed so long but the time seemed to pass a lot faster when the jobs involved going undercover versus being in the field. You liked infiltrating others’ lives and playing the part even for just a few hours. It brought some insight to the life you’d never have.

Kicking off your heels, you rubbed the backs of your feet, ankles red from walking in them for the evening. You never sported heels often but you did so enough that it was easy enough to walk in them. They still hurt your feet though.

A small noise snapped you to attention, pulling out your gun from the drawer in the kitchen, just one of many you had stashed throughout the apartment. You slowly did a walk through, looking closely at each of the rooms, looking through everything as you finished out the closets in the living room and moved into the bedroom.

The lights were off. Nothing seemed out of place.

You slowly moved towards the restroom, checking the closet, in the shower, hell even the cabinets even though logically a human couldn’t fit in there. You relaxed slightly, walking back into the bedroom, the darkness looming from outside as the night got darker.

Just as you began to walk out of the room, you noticed something.

One of the vases you had filled with water was knocked over…

What the hell?

The feeling of rough hands gripping your arm sent you into fight mode, struggling against the person assaulting you as you tried to hit them with the bottom of the gun. Their grip tightened, forcing your hand to release the gun before you felt your body get thrown on the bed and shoved into the mattress.

Just as you began to curse at them, a large hand clamped over your mouth, that familiar red helmet bringing an anger in your bones.

“Shhh, don’t want to wake the neighbors now do we?”, he muttered.

Your eyes glared daggers at him, wishing they were real so he could suffer from the cuts. Your body was stuck under his, his muscular legs holding your body in place as the rest of his frame was being held up by one arm. He was huge compared to you. His body radiating a heat that left your skin on fire. You felt exposed. You weren’t wearing anything but a measly dress, your chest almost flush against his.

“You sure do make it believable enough that you’re one of them.”, he had a mocking tone to his voice, your body still trying to thrash against him but to no avail. “Now, what are you doing at Sapphire talking to Calvi Calbera?”

Before he made another move, you kicked him in the groin, hard enough to make him double over and loosen his grip on you. It was more than enough time to shove him to the ground, grabbing the dagger that was hidden under your dresser and getting on top of him, your knees holding down his arms as you held the dagger to his throat.

“How the hell did you find where I live?!”, you bit out, your breath uneven as you felt the rush of adrenaline in your body. “How did you get in?!”

“Sweetheart, I’m a detective. I can find anything out about anyone in this city whenever I want. Even you.”, his eyes narrowed as a way to taunt you causing your jaw to clench in irritation as you brought your face closer to his and staring at him with murder in your eyes.

“How. Did. You. Get. In.”, you repeated, this time more serious and the knife pricking his skin, the small trickle of blood running down the side of his neck.

“Window, doll.”, he motioned slightly with a small cock of his head. “You didn’t lock it.”

You turned to look at the window, noticing the lock was intact, not broken. If he broke in, the lock wouldn’t look like it was brand new and yet it was. Had you really forgotten to lock it? You looked at the window before turning back to Red, confusion quickly covered up with frustration.

“You have no right coming to my home.”

“I wasn’t asking for an invite.” , you leaned back slightly, the weight of your legs on his arms lifting as you felt him sit up, your body still sitting on his as you glared at him. He didn’t make any sudden movements, just held your gaze as you held the knife to his throat still.

“Why are you here?”, you asked, about to pull yourself off of him before his hand grabbed a handful of your hair, gripping it and forcing you to look at him.

“You need to learn your place. That’s why I’m here.”, he pulled you closer to his helmet, his eyes boring into yours. “You cost me $100k. On a good shipment batch. I think I’ll have to send a message back to the fat bird to get my point across to not fuck with me.”

“You have tried killing me every time we’ve run into each other for the past month!”, you fought back, his grip tightening.

“Don’t act like the feeling isn’t mutual”, he breathed.

“I have a job to do. Killing you gets me out of this fucking city”, you struggled against him, trying to make him release his grip.

“And you’ve failed every time. Why is that sweetheart? What are you hiding?”

“Fuck. Off.”, you bit out.

Why was he testing you?

He had an open shot to snap your neck, he could just do it and get it over with.

“Does it have to do with Black Mask? You seem to hold a resentment when all he wants is your attention”

“I don’t care about what he wants. I don’t give a damn about him.”

His gaze held yours, feeling his hand go slack as you pushed yourself off of him. You threw the knife on the dresser, rolling your arm from the soreness. He watched you as you moved, his eyes skimming over your body as your back was turned to him.

What was your motive? Why did you let him go?

The question whirled in his head as you turned, staring at him as he remained exposed on the floor. He wasn’t vulnerable, he had everything he needed to disable you, yet he didn’t move.

“Leave. Now.”

“So bossy”, he muttered as he stood, his frame towering over you. Your body moved back as he pressed you against the nightstand, his arms on either side of your body as he caged you in. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Why let me go when your job is to kill me?” he mummed, cocking his head in turn.

“Spite”, was all you said, the seconds ticking by as he let out a deep chuckle before pushing back and heading towards the window he’d climbed in through, pushing himself out and leaving.

There was an emptiness that flooded the room, but you couldn’t quite place it. Red was getting too comfortable with just showing up into your life whenever he wanted. What was he hiding? What was he up to?

You slipped out of your dress, changing into an oversized shirt and leaving nothing but underwear on as you tied your hair up and washed your face. You stared at yourself for a moment in the mirror, a flood of emotion overwhelming you as you reached to touch the necklace around your neck.

Would everything be different if you were still here?

The memories flooded you, every pact you made to never become a part of this life entering your mind. Would you have been swept away and been out of Gotham had he come back?

~

“You do realize that Batman will kill me if he found out about this?”, Robin said as you and him snuck through the city, reaching another rooftop that just peered over the water.

“C’mon it’ll be fine, besides when do you ever see fireworks that aren’t because of some criminal trying to create a diversion?”, you laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“Good point.”, he smiled, following as you stood on the ledge, watching as the countdown sounding out went down a second at a time.

“Okay Gotham, let’s get ready for our 10-second countdown!” you heard the announcer over the speaker say as the crowd chanted.

“5! 4! 3! 2!….1!”, the onslaught of fireworks and sparklers lit up the night, the crowd screaming, shouting, celebrating the coming of the New Year.

You looked at the fireworks, your eyes glowing at the sight. It’d be the first time you’ve seen them in such a way. celebratory fashion.

“Aren’t they-“, your words got cut off at the feeling of Robin grabbing your face, planting a kiss on your lips and bringing you closer to him. You melted into him, his hands tightening around your waist. He flooded your senses, your entire body falling into his charm, his humor, his intelligence, his heart, his everything.

He pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting on yours as he stared at you.

“Happy New Year (Y/n)”, he whispered as you smiled against his lips.

“Happy New Year, Rob”, you whispered back.

~

If only times were as simple as they once were. Nothing was ever as it seemed and that was the reality of your situation. Everything would always fade away from you, only leaving yourself to get out alive.

What a foolish thing to believe in at such a young age. You were only 15, him 16. There was too much of life to live to assume that moment could stay isolated in time forever. You could only hope.

Turning off the faucet, you went back to bed, laying down as you looked out the window and took in the light from the moon, a part of you feeling like someone was watching.

You looked at the lock, lifting yourself up to close it but freezing in the process. You couldn’t explain why but you settled back into bed.

The lock on the window still left open.

You had finalized the steps of your plan, fixing your hair as you pinned a few pieces up and left others to frame your face. It gave you a delicate look, softened your features and gave you a sort of edge. It was dark, sultry.

Spraying a few pumps of your perfume on your neck and wrists, you took one last look in the mirror. You looked sexy, seductive, like any man would fall at your feet. It gave you a boost of confidence as you grabbed your small clutch off the counter, ensuring your dagger was hidden at the bottom with a decent amount of cash, your wallet, lipstick, and your gun. It was along the lining but the bulge was hidden thanks to the other items in your bag.

It took about 20-30 minutes to reach Calvi’s estate, watching as the mansion pulled into view. It was beautiful, and the architecture was gothic but with a light twist of old money and class. It was bright, the reflection from the setting sun making it glow beautifully. There was a garden in the front as the gates opened, the driver buzzing in at the entrance as you showed your identification. Fake identification at that.

The car pulled into the driveway that wrapped around a fountain. It was made of marble, and had beautiful carvings in the stone. It was so intricate you could’ve sworn it might’ve been made by a renaissance sculptor.

The door opened as one of the butlers pulled it away from the car, holding a hand for you to grab onto as you thanked them, a soft smile thrown in their direction.

You walked up the staircase, Calvi waiting for you in his fitted suit, his hair freshly cut and his hands in his pockets as he smiled at you. He extended a hand, taking yours in his as he pressed a kiss on your knuckles.

Chivalry isn’t dead after all.

His eyes did a quick skim of your body, the dress you wore hugging your figure perfectly, the back being exposed to show some skin. It had a pearl chain that hung loosely in the back, but overall the entire ensemble was more than enough to lure him in.

He led you down the hall, the walls covered in old art and the tables filled with flowers, probably thanks to his housing staff. It was unique, grand, over the top yet simple and calming at the same time. You’d been in Gotham Heights’ homes before, but none really drew you in like this one was right now. Calvi had taste, or at least the person who selected his decor had taste.

A flash of blue caught your eye, you stopped as you looked at it. Perfectly marked shades of yellow contrast against the blue, it was beautiful. Something you’d never imagined you’d see.

“Is this real?”, you asked, your eyes glued to the painting.

“Every piece in this house is real, my dear.”

Your head tilted as you soaked in the work of art in front of you. The impressionism was well done, though you knew the history behind the piece.

“You like Van Gogh?”Calvi hummed next to you.

You paused for a moment, soaking in admiration at the lilies in the painting. Each stroke is simple, delicate, and impactful. Van Gogh definitely had a mind far beyond comprehension. You closed your eyes, turning to Calvi and smiling at him.

“No. Not at all actually.”, you responded as you followed him down the hall.

~

“You like to read?”, you laughed as you grabbed one of the books Robin had brought with him.

“Yeah, I read a lot of Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf too.”, he flipped through some of the pages, almost like he was examining the book as you read the back of the book in your hand.

“How exactly did you get into reading?”

Robin shrugged. “I guess all that free time sneaking into libraries paid off.” he handed you a fry, biting down on it as you finished reading the back of the hardcover. “What about you? Do you like reading?”

“Mmm, no. But the family has a lot of cool paintings around the house. Sometimes I look up what they are and learn about the history of it. I think Rembrant and Van Gogh are my favorites.”

“Yeah? Art history. Almost as cool as Literature”

“It’s way cooler than Literature”, you smirked at him as he rolled his eyes behind his mask.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your favorite and why?”, he leaned back on his hands, watching as you sat in your thoughts for a few moments, contemplating an answer before lighting up in excitement.

“Oh! Definitely a Vase with irises against a yellow background.”

“Jesus, who the hell gave it that long name?”

You shoved his shoulder playfully before grabbing another fry from the small basket he’d brought with him. He often brought burgers and fries for the two of you to share while you caught up for the week. He was able to see you more frequently compared to when you first met a few months ago.

“Van Gogh did, and it’s a great work of art. It’s an impressionist painting. He did it while he was in the psych clinic. I think it’s actually one of the last paintings he ever did before he died. Anyway, I just really like it. The contrast makes it even more interesting to look at because blue and yellow are such bright happy colors and yet, you understand the emotion he felt. A lot of people think it symbolizes his desire to escape, leave the asylum and never look back.”

“Is that why you like it? Because he wanted to escape and never look back?”, you knew exactly why he asked, your heart tugging in your chest as you met his eye line.

“Yeah, I guess so.”, you confessed, “But, I’ve been wanting to escape a lot less recently.”

Robin smiled at you softly, your eyes staring at him with gratitude. He really had made Gotham worthwhile. He made everything worthwhile.

“Yeah, me too.”

~

“And this is our sitting room. I usually bring guests in to sit and share a drink while we talk over business, personal matters, or just anything life throws at us.”

You snapped back to reality at the sound of Calvi’s voice. You forced yourself to tuck away the thought of the past, focusing on the task at hand. He led you into the room, motioning at the butler inside to fetch some drinks. You sat down gently on the couch, watching as he grabbed the two glasses from the waiter and handed one to you.

“Our Finest red.”, he motioned as you took a sip of the wine.

It was rich, full and sweet. You didn’t know a red could be sweet and yet, here it was. It tasted magnificent.

"So, Vivian.”, he put his arm on the headrest behind you. “A penny for your thoughts?”

“Just wondering how you managed to get such a beautiful home, I’m feeling quite jealous.”, you smiled at him, sipping your glass once again.

“My family works in luxury goods, but after the passing of my parents I figured I could use my investments… differently.”

“Differently?”, you cocked an eyebrow.

“There is a whole other side to the Gotham business than you realize, my dear.”, he leaned in.

I realize more than you do asshole.

“Should I be worried?”, you leaned forward, gently placing a hand on his knee, his eyes flickering with pride.

“I’ll share so long as you can keep it a secret?”, Oh. He was dying to impress you. You could see it all over his body language. Calvi was a smart man, filthy rich, and even had questionable business practices. You needed to see if he truly played a hand in Gotham’s underground like Penguin’s intel had stated. If he did, getting him to partner with the Boss would be a lot easier than you thought.

“If it makes you feel better… I’ll share a secret first. Even the playing field.”, you ran your hand along his tie, fixing it to lay flat on his dress shirt and under the suit he had on. Your eyes met his dark ones as he watched you intently.

“Please share..”, his lips remained parted as he watched your movements, you could tell his heart was beating faster just by the looks of him.

You leaned forward, your face inches from his before you parted your lips, your mouth strategically close to his for effect. “I have a thing for men with a little… edge to them.” you whispered, recognizing the flicker in his eyes the moment you spoke. “You’ve reeled me in, can you get me hooked?”

“I can get you more than just hooked, baby.”, he moved towards you, “I’ll get you addicted.”

You lifted a hand, tracing his jaw slightly, your lips softly grazing his as you pushed him against the couch, throwing your legs over his as you sat up, melding your body close to his.

“So then, enlighten me.”

His hand landed on your thigh, his fingers squeezing a bit before he spoke, the tension growing by the second. “I have connections with the trades on the East side of Gotham. A few business partners help me invest my money where money never ends. I get protection, money, and reputation. All I do is invest and help them make shipments then I make more income than the majority of the people at Sapphire.”

Bingo. He confirmed what you needed to know. If he already had connections with the underground, who were they with?

“Sounds dangerous.”, you fed the bait slowly.

“It keeps money in my pockets, keeps the business alive. Gotham’s underground is a never ending flow of money”

You felt his hand trail up your thigh, the skin growing cold as he pushed your dress up slightly. His eyes tried to dig into yours, but your facade was bulletproof. No one could break you or make you show your true self. Calvi would never even come close to doing so.

The knock on the room door broke the moment much to your satisfaction. Calvi closed his eyes in annoyance, calling out for the guest to come in. Two tall men came in, dressed in all black and wearing a headset. You moved away from Calvi as he stood, walking over to the men as they talked in whispers with him. You committed every part of their appearance to memory, from the clothing they wore, the brand of the headset, to the miniscule scars they had that almost seemed like a branding symbol. You stowed it away in the capsule in your head to later jot down for future reference.

“Vivian.”Calvi turned towards you as you rose from the couch, fixing the small part of your dress that rose a centimeter. “I’m afraid something has come up that requires my attention. I’ll fetch a car for you but please, we need to finish our conversation next time.”

You looked up at him with innocence in your eyes, simply nodding before placing a soft kiss on his cheek, placing a gentle hand on his arm before you went down the corridor to the outside where the car waited for you. You had given your address to the driver and he dropped you off at your complex, leaving you to push through the doors and crash on the bed.

Once you hit the sheets you let out a sigh of relief. God, why was this so taxing? What information did this man have that was so important to Penguin when there were a hundred other men who had the same connections that the boss could do business with? The act of questioning the boss wasn’t an option though, so instead you continued with your assignment as normal.

The next few weeks proved to be normal, simple, barely any information of use. The whole job seemed lackluster, almost a waste of your time but you needed to convince Calvi to work with Penguin. It would be the biggest asset in getting your payout.

That was the goal for your upcoming visit after all.

2 Weeks Later

Entering the location Calvi had given you gave you an edge, it was a club. Mid-level. It was where all of the crooked men of Gotham came to dip into the pool of the underground. It also happened to be one of the investments that Calvi had on the East side. It was similar to the Lounge, though the clientele were more Upper Gotham trying to hide in the shadows.

You walked into the room with seductive confidence, your aura radiating pure lust, seduction, and darkness. You walked to the back of the club, feeling some of the men look at you as you passed by. They would always be enamored by you, all the brainless men in the underground were. They never knew who you were, never knew your name or your looks because you did good in presenting yourself entirely differently each time.

DIfferent hair, different makeup, different energy. Needless to say, they all fell for it every single time. Your dress hugged your figure, stopping mid thigh and carving out your curves to be more prominent, your long, dark hair falling down your back as you fixed your earrings that had dangling strands as you reapplied your dark red lipstick. Seduction was the game and you were the physical embodiment of the word.

You walked up to the red door down the hall, a tall bulky man standing in front of the door as he stared at your body, his eyes roaming and taking you in. You internally smirked at how easy men were to manipulate.

“I have a meeting with Calvi, my name is Vivian.”, you lied through your teeth as the guard grunted and walked inside the room, only to open the door for you a few moments later. “Thank you.”, your lips pulled into a perfect red smile as you walked by him, looking into the room and taking in your surroundings.

The room had a dark atmosphere but was lit by dim lights around the room. A couch in the middle of the room with two solo seating seats, a glass table in the middle with a glass bottle of what seemed like whiskey on the tray on top, two glasses complimenting the bottle. You took in the velvet colors on the furniture, the paintings on the walls adding nice accents as the door on the very end of the room opposite of the main door opened.

“Vivian.”, he smiled at the sight of you, a few men surrounding him as they played poker. They all looked familiar. Probably those men from Sapphire he played chess with. He placed a gentle hand on your back, leading you to the couch as the men watched you intently. “I’m glad you made it.” his suave voice rang out, deep but sophisticated, full of authority.

He had his dark hair slicked back, a dark suit fitted to his body that probably cost him a couple thousands of dollars, his bold gold watch wrapped around his wrist as he walked towards you adjusting his cuffs. He radiated a type of energy that would leave a normal woman at his feet, begging to be taken by him. Your eyes zeroed in on him, taking him in with your dark hues, letting the second round of the game begin.

“Thank you for inviting me, I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you again.”, you sat down as you looked up at him, your stare innocently seductive. He dropped a smile at you, one that could make anyone swoon after him, but you knew his background and you needed to play your cards right in order to convince this man fully.

You watched as he walked to the far side of the room, near the small bar area. “Any wine?”

“Château Lafite Rothschild, if you have it”,

“I love a woman with expensive taste.” he pulled out a bottle which left an impressive look on your face. “1998, it’s more aged.”

He poured your wine before pouring his own Whiskey into a glass and walking over to you, handing you the wine before sitting next to you. You opened your body up to him, not letting him take a hint of your body language being too closed off.

He turned his body to face you, his arm on the head of the couch and his leg crossed over his other. He exuded dominant energy even in a position of relaxation. You weren’t naive though, you knew he was always on guard, especially working with the criminals of Gotham on a regular basis. Anyone could call a hit on him, it made sense he didn’t let his guard down completely.

“I really appreciate aged wine, it’s more of a delicacy so it’s nice when someone actually has it around.”, you smiled at him, his eyes focused on you while you noticed his friends skimming your legs. God these men. So easy to manipulate.

“I wanted to ask about a painting, actually.”, you asked truthfully.

“Anything for you Vivian.”, his full focus was on you, before he motioned for his men to kick out his guests, all the men leaving in a file line as the music from the club slowly leaked into the backroom and his guards stood outside the door. The two of you now alone.

“I want to see how much it would cost to get a Monet in hand. One that has a good price on it.”, his eyes flickered with interest at the mention of the French artist. He had to know how to source one one way or another.

“Which painting are you wanting to inquire about?”

“I’ve wanted to own an authentic version of Le Bassin Aux Nymphéas.”, you said confidently, trying to gauge his interest.

“My dear, it's an $80 million painting.”

“I just.. Wanted to see how much it would take to get it. I have the funds to back up my inquiry.” you played with his tie, smoothing out the folds of his suit.

“I know it’s a difficult piece to acquire, I would need someone to endorse my interests and hold power over the transactional process. I couldn’t think of anyone better than you”, you slowly placed your hand on his chest, letting him soak in your touch. You felt the way his body reacted slightly to you, his heart skipping a beat. You looked into his eyes, seeing that same lustful emotion run through his body. You could see the tightening in his jaw, his hand clenching slightly on the couch.

You noticed the immediate intrigue in his expression. Even he knew the process of getting such a painting would be difficult, expensive and timely. He had a strong hand in the world of luxury goods, his entire business and company focused on the foreign trade of luxury goods and rare objects for high profile clients. This was just another job he would be able to make by pulling black market strings. Everyone in the real world knew Calvi as the charming, handsome CEO of a luxury goods company, but the underground knew him as a black market ring leader. What he made in the underground quadrupled in 6 months what he made in a year in his company. To say he was wealthy would be an understatement.

“What made you so interested in an $80 million painting?”

“I want it for my personal collection. I want it to be desired, taken care of, protected”, your voice flowed through your lips smoothly, your body leaning into Calvi’s as you played softly with his collar, your fingers tracing lines on his suit. Your eyes focused on his tie before meeting his eyes and seeing the absolute craze happening inside of him. His brown eyes stared at you with lust, desire, control, and you knew you were playing your game well.

“I want it to be treated, the way any timeless rarity, any delicate precious luxury should be treated.”, his hand found its way to your leg, rubbing soft circles on your skin as you played your cards. You stared at his lips, then flashed back up to his eyes, letting yourself soak into the moment, letting him slowly unravel underneath your spell. Calvi’s eyes focused on your eyes, then down to your lips, the bright color of your red lips slowly drawing him in.

“You know how to do that don’t you? How to take care of.. Precious delicacies?”, you whispered against his lips, almost pressing against yours as he breathed. You let your hand lay on his chest as the other landed on his hand on your leg. Checkmate.

“I know more than just simply taking care of them, my dear.”, he breathed as he closed the gap between the two of you, his lips savagely consuming you, your hand on his chest as he pushed you against the couch. His hand reached into your hair, tightening as he deepened the kiss, his tongue battling it out with yours as you felt his skin catch on fire. He had been wanting to devour you since you first met a month ago, and now, he was a mindless pawn in your game to get what you wanted. You played the part well, you knew it would be far too easy to get someone like him to fall to his knees for you. It only took a month, but it worked.

“Boss.”

Calvi pulled away, his hand still tangled in your hair as you opened your eyes and met his, his hues full of lust and need. Only after a second, he turned to his guard.

“What is it?”, his voice was filled with irritation.

“I hate to interrupt, but you have a visitor.”, the guard let out. “He’s here for business”

“Tell him to come back tomorrow”, Calvi turned to you again, his eyes taking in your swollen lips and dark eyes. Empty eyes but he didn’t need to know how void of emotion you were.

“Sir.”, the guard pressed before saying something that even you couldn’t ignore. “It’s the Red Hood.”

You felt your blood run cold, forcing yourself to remain calm at the mention of his name. You noticed how Calvi almost immediately snapped into attention. He looked at his guard, nodding and telling him to give him five minutes before bringing him in. He fixed his suit and his hair, wiping off the red stain that was on his lips as you fixed your hair and your dress.

“I didn’t know you had company.”, you said as you watched him. “I can come back another time.”

“Nonsense, my dear. It’ll be quick business, then we can get back to our… discussion about your inquiry on the Monet.”

As he finished, the door opened again, your eyes panned over to the other man standing at the door. A wall of pure, solid muscle covered completely in kevlar, daggers, and guns. A black motorcycle jacket on his upper half and dark combat boots, his bright red helmet making a statement as he entered. He completely flooded your senses with his intensity and dominance. You stared at him as he looked into the room, but you knew he was glaring daggers at you from under his helmet. When didn’t he completely despise anything you did?

“Red Hood. It’s a pleasure to have you here.” Calvi spoke confidently, his hand motioning towards the seat in front of the couch as he sat down next to you. You noticed the slits where his eyes should be narrow slightly no doubt recognizing what you and Calvi were doing. Your hair was a bit messy, and your lips were swollen. To anyone else they would have ignored it. But Red caught it immediately.

“What can I help you with?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt your… affairs, but I have an order to make”, Red’s deep, distorted voice rang out as he glared at Calvi’s hand slightly touching you from the top of the couch. Your eyes narrowed at him and even not being able to see his expression, you knew he was pissed. “I need 4 shipments of Fear Toxin and Miraclo, and two shipments holding AK47s, MFA1 Carbines, and M1928s.”

“When do you need your shipments?”

“Next week.”, Red stood with his arms crossed, staring at you then back at Calvi. You sent him looks filled with annoyance and frustration. You wanted nothing more than to be able to punch him in the jaw. “We have work that needs to be done.”

A subtle threat only meant for you.

What was he planning?

“It’ll be a tight schedule, but I’ll make sure it gets here in 3 days time. I’ll give you your total statement then to ensure payment is processed and received.”

“Good, now, get home Calvi.”, he ordered. You nearly scoffed at how you just witnessed the Red Hood give the king of the black market orders.

“Excuse me?”, Calvi questioned. “Get home? Are you my mother now?”

“No, but I am the guy keeping protection on your little operations, so if you want our contract to not be void, I suggest you listen. I won’t repeat myself twice.”

So Red was his contact. No wonder Calvi seemed well composed and confident in himself. Red was giving him all the protection he needed along with the pay for sourcing weapons for him. Foreign goods. Yeah, those militant weapons were foreign alright.

Calvi stared at him, letting the seconds pass and the tension grow, before standing and fixing his suit. “It’s a pleasure as always Hood. Vivian, let’s go, my dear.”

“The girl leaves. You won’t be needing her to help you get home.”

Calvi narrowed his eyes, your position still sitting on the couch. You felt your body fill with overwhelming anger, you wanted to kill the Red Hood more than anything but you couldn’t give up your facade of the calm, collected woman you were right now. You’d have to deal with him later.

“Vivian, I’ll get my driver to-”

“I’ll make sure she gets a ride.”, Red interrupted him. “I’ll have your guard get her a cab.”

Calvi clenched his teeth, his jaw flexing as you stood and walked over to him. You swayed your hips purposely to get a rise out of the masked vigilante, reaching your hands to touch Calvi’s face.

“I can get home. I look forward to continuing our discussion when we’re able to, okay?”, Calvi grunted in agreement before you gave him a kiss on the cheek, keeping your touch on him longer than you normally would just to get a rise out of the man burning holes into your back. You walked past Red Hood, walking out the door and getting in your cab. You were silent the entire way home, letting yourself bask in the anger eating you alive as you tried to calm down.

You entered your apartment angrily, throwing your clutch on the counter before shoving the heels off your feet.

Who did he think he was?!

God, you were on the right track, you have Calvi wrapped around your finger and of course, it’s him that Calvi has ties with. Now your entire plan was set back thanks to the infuriating red vermin.

You placed your hands on the counter, leaning forward as you stared at the ground. You needed to breathe. Relax. You could not let him get to you. Especially not like this.

Was this payback for the past month of you raiding his jobs? For making him lose all that money? He already wanted to kill you and you him, but why did him barging in on your jobs piss you off even more? You’d rather he just put the bullet in your head and call it a day than have to deal with the anger that flooded your veins every time you saw him.

“You really know how to play the part of seductress don’t you?”, that deep, distorted voice ripped you out of your focus. You felt the anger rise in you again. You turned to look at him, all 225 pounds of him, with his overwhelming presence, his annoying glare as he stared at your form. You were still wearing your dress, your hair still done and your makeup still flawless. And yet, the ugly side of you was about to come out and go head to head with this man.

“Get out of my apartment, Red.”, you bit out, the venom lacing your voice.

“What were you planning on doing? Seducing him?”, he pressed, his voice had an edge to it. “Were you going to reel him in? Get him under your spell so he would do you favors?”

“I said, get out!”, you turned to look at him, your eyes red with fury, your skin burning in irritation, and your heart pounding as you stood in front of him, looking up due to the obvious height difference. Red started to walk towards you, forcing you against the wall as he raised his arm to trap you against his muscular form and the brick. You wanted to fucking kill him.

“Were you going to let him have his way with you?”, he lowered his head, his voice deeper than it was before, the edge growing sharper. There was something dark in his voice, dangerous, full of instability. Your jaw clenched as you tried shoving him away, punching his chest as you shoved your face in his, the hate evident like you were an angered bull.

“Let him be taken by you? Let him touch you, use you, maybe even let him fuck you?”, You punched him again, shoving your hands into his chest as you pushed out of his grasp, snapping at him when he tried to touch you.

“Fucking leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice raw and your adrenaline pumping. You were certain you could kill him right now given the chance. You tried reaching for the gun in your bag, only to feel his hands stop you, pushing you against the table as he pressed his chest flush with your back, his face right next to your ear as he spoke in a dark tone.

“I know your little game, (Y/n). You can fool Calvi, seduce him, manipulate him, brainwash him. But I know. I know every little thing that you’re doing.”, he pressed his body against you, his leg separating your thighs, pressing against you. “You can’t fool me, sweetheart.”

“You son of a bitch..”, you felt on fire, struggling against him, pushing yourself back as he turned you around, forcing himself into your space. Your body was still wrapped in your dress, your breasts were practically on his chest, his arms trapping you as he overwhelmed your senses.

“Tell me, (Y/n), do you think he’d know how to take care of you?”, his voice got deeper, his hand grabbing your face so your eyes would meet his. His body pressed against you, the muscle of his legs causing your skin to heat. “Would he know the first thing about where to touch you?”, his leg pushed against your core, your body responding to his sudden movements. “Would he know how to fuck you?”.

Your eyes narrowed in hatred, absolute hate and fury. There was no hiding it, even he could see the absolute lack of control you had right now and you hated it. You hated him.

His voice was in your ear, his hand grabbing your waist as the other wrapped itself around your throat. “Would he be able to make you scream his name?”. God, he filled your senses and pushed you into overdrive. “Would he be able to absolutely fuck the sense out of you and make you his? Take every part of you and make you beg?” his voice dripped with conviction, repeating himself a final time. “Tell me sweetheart, do you think he’s the one to make you his?”

You couldn’t take the pressure building in between your thighs. You didn’t want to have this reaction to him, but your body had other plans, ones you couldn’t control or hide.

“Why are you so interested in my personal life, Red?”, you challenged. You needed to get your power back from him. “Do you think you’d be able to do even half of what you’re saying Calvi would do to me?”

“Sweetheart, if I had you, there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind who you belonged to.”

You stared at him with heat in your eyes, you knew he could see how flustered you were but you didn’t want to give him more power than he already had. You suddenly felt his gloved hand on your neck, his fingers softly clutching your face.

“I don’t belong to anyone. Especially not you”, you bit out, your teeth clenched as he held your gaze.

“Keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart.”, he pushed himself away from you, heading towards the window. “Calvi works for me. He won’t be so naive to fall into your tricks.”

“Leave, Red.”, you forced out, your anger still consuming you. You watched as he climbed out the window and out into the night, your body still in overdrive from his touch.

Why did he leave you feeling this way?

How did he get you this riled up?

Why did he care about you going after Calvi?

And most importantly, what was his motive?

A/N: Here is chapter 3! Hope you guys enjoy it!

I have been sick the past week so I was able to edit and get this up for you guys. I love the reactions to this series so please leave all your comments and thoughts! I love reading them and look forward to hearing more from you guys.

Until Next Week xx.