#holy shit ao3 account reveal

[chaotic-fandom-hoarder]

I decided to port my sitcom au fanfics over to ao3! I’m still going to post them here too, but I like the idea of having a central place for them on a website that has a functional search bar lmao

[defectivevillain]

struck by your lightning, ch3

reader’s pronouns: he/him

summary: You decide to take advantage of the moment’s respite you’re given. “Okay. Hey, how are you?” You look up, only to find yourself staring at Kaminari Denki. The Kaminari Denki—the idol with over thirty million listeners and sold-out concerts across the world. You’re certain that you’re going to fumble your words several times in front of him. (You're a reporter working at the red carpet of a national award gala. You've convinced yourself that you're doing just fine. At least, you're doing fine until you interview Kaminari.)

here’s chapter one and chapter two [you’ll want to read these first, otherwise this won’t make much sense]

this is a chat-hybrid fic and the formatting was mostly made for ao3. it’s a lil wonky here, so here’s the ao3 version if you’d prefer to read that :)

since it's been a while, here's a refresh of what happened in ch1-2: The reader works at DoubleVision agency and is invited to interview artists at an award show. His interview and interaction with Kaminari quickly goes viral—both because of his flustered reaction at the end and the “Love ya”s exchanged at the end. The reader tries not to think too much of it, until he opens his phone to find a message from an unknown number who proves to be Kaminari himself. The two quickly grow to be friends through frequent text conversations. Kaminari reveals that he has your placard for the event and plans for the two of you to meet up together at the nearby coffee shop…

now, onto the story....

Tokyo Entertainment Fix | @tokentfix

Popstar Kaminari Denki Spotted with Reporter from Awards Gala at Coffee Shop! 

[ coffee1.jpg ] [ coffee2.jpg ] [ coffee3.jpg ]

89k comments | 486k retweets | 1.8m likes

____________

jj | @dendendenki

ARE Y’ALL SEEING THIS

409 comments | 3k retweets | 18.2k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki 

seeing what

5 comments | 21 retweets | 451 likes

jj | @dendendenki

In response to @ urfavescouldnever 

THIS [tokentfix.twt] [newsarticle.link]

61 comments | 1.3k retweets | 8k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki 

I’M SEEING IT NOW HOLY SHIT

4 comments | 808 retweets | 1.6k likes

_______

Direct Message 

You: have you seen…?

Kaminari Denki: the news article about us?

You: yeah

Kaminari Denki: ah yeah, i saw it

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: WHAT

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: no no no

Kaminari Denki: stop that immediately

You: y??

Kaminari Denki: bc it's not ur fault!!!

Kaminari Denki: if anything, i should be the one apologizing 

You: why??? you didn’t do anything

Kaminari Denki: NEITHER DID YOU

You: ah damn it i see what you did there

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: but srsly, i hope the article isn’t messing anything up for u

You: i was gonna say the same to you

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, this kind of shit happens to me all the time

Kaminari Denki: but seriously, are you doing ok?

You: yep all good

You: it’s just more funny than anything else

Kaminari Denki: is the thought of dating me really so bad :(

You: oh pls, that’s not what i meant

You: i just meant celebrity culture in general…  like they’re so obsessed with your relationship status and it’s kinda weird>??

Kaminari Denki: yeah… 

You: sigh

You: so glad i’m just a lowly reporter 🙏

Kaminari Denki: hey, don’t jinx it

Kaminari Denki: plus, haven’t you looked on twt recently

Kaminari Denki: fans are shipping us together

Kaminari Denki: pretty sure there are stan accounts dedicated to you now

Kaminari Denki: not that i would know

Kaminari Denki: or follow them

You: fr??

Kaminari Denki: fr fr

You: deadass?

Kaminari Denki: on god

You: i hate us

Kaminari Denki: same

__________

Thankfully, that article about Kaminari and you doesn’t actually change much. You go about business as usual, albeit with a strange sense of guilt prickling along your skin when your mind is unoccupied. You throw yourself into your work and try to bury the emotions, but they are never truly extinguished. 

Your conversations with Kaminari are far rarer now, especially as the both of you get even busier. Kaminari is working on releasing his next album and you’re pitching new stories and writing to old acquaintances for features. Even though you throw yourself into work, you still find your thoughts returning to Kaminari. Your relationship with him is currently undefined—your meeting the other day felt like a date, but neither of you acknowledged it. You would love to be more than friends with Kaminari, but you also know that someone as well-known as him doesn’t exactly have the freedom to pursue a relationship and a music career at the same time. Resigned, you slowly push away thoughts of Kaminari until you think you get a good handle on your emotions. 

Until everything you try to suppress comes roaring back.

___________

 Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

24 hours. [STATIC.jpg]

203k comments | 1.2m retweets | 4m likes

____________

Kaminari Denki to Release New Album Tomorrow

Arts—Music

2 min ago ᐧ By Janet Drews

Kaminari Denki, award-winning musical artist and popular culture icon, recently announced the release of his new album on Twitter. The Tweet earned over four million likes and 200,000 comments. Listeners are clearly looking forward to the occasion, as #KaminariDenki, #STATIC, and #DenkiAlbum top the Twitter Trending page (#1, #2, and #4, respectively). 

Some fans speculate the new album will be an ode to the rumored relationship between Kaminari and the DoubleVision reporter who interviewed him at the award gala [interview.mp4]. The interaction between the singer and the reporter quickly went viral following live coverage of the event. Digital citizens across the platform searched for explanations for the exchange, and Kaminari fans such as user @heyheyh3y discussed their red-carpet conversation.  

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y okay but is it just me or was there some tension there…  [interview.jpg]: A screenshot of Kaminari standing next to you during the interview.   907 comments | 66k retweets | 256k likes

This album will be a bit different from his previously released music, Kaminari said to Vogue Japan mere days ago. The artist made no mention of a significant other who could bear influence on his new music, despite the fact that he was seen with the DoubleVision reporter at EspressoBeanz but a few days ago—a cafè conveniently located near both DoubleVision agency and UA Entertainment. However, other Kaminari fans, like users @electrstatic and @staticshockwave, weren’t convinced:

⚡⚡| @electrstatic y’all are making such a huge deal about this whole reporter business, as if the same thing hasn’t happened time and time again with literally anyone kaminari interacts with 31 comments | 23 retweets | 700 likes electric boogaloo  | @staticshockwave In response to @electrstatic  THANK YOU. like, when he first got Arata as a manager, everyone was going batshit crazy about how they were dating… and they weren’t. and the way anyone breathing in Kaminari’s direction is assumed to be dating him… it’s crazy 0 comments | 8 retweets | 32 likes

Either way, fans across the world are looking forward to the release of new music from Kaminari.  His new album, STATIC, will be released on Apple Music, Spotify, Soundcloud, and assorted digital platforms at 3 p.m. JST (approximately 10 a.m. UTC). 

__________

Direct Message

You: heyyy, how are you feeling

You: the album releases tmrw, right?

Kaminari Denki: very nervous 

Kaminari Denki: and yes, t minus 20 hrs

You: awesome!

You: and rly? why?

Kaminari Denki: well… i worked hard on it, and i want ppl to like it

You: okay 

You: will you be disappointed if your fans don’t like it?

Kaminari Denki: a little, yeah

You: but why do you write music? do you write it for them or for yourself? 

Kaminari Denki: 

You: sorry, that sounds patronizing…

Kaminari Denki: no, you’re right

Kaminari Denki: i think i needed to hear that

You: i mean, you clearly worked very hard on it. i’m sure everyone listening will recognize that.

Kaminari Denki: i hope so

You: they will 😠 and if they don’t, fuck em

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: thanks <3

You: ofc! <3

You: i have to go eat dinner, talk soon?

Kaminari Denki: yep,, enjoy your meal

You: tyyy haha

___________

Direct Message

Kaminari Denki: hypothetically speaking

Sero Brain Cells: ok hello to you too

Sero Brain Cells: also bitch do i look like a scientist

Kaminari Denki: hYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING

Kaminari Denki: does a “<3” mean someone is hopelessly in love with me

Sero Brain Cells: jfc

Kaminari Denki: is that a yes

Sero Brain Cells: ur so fuckin whipped

Kaminari Denki: SHUT UP

Kaminari Denki: I TRUSTED YOU

Kaminari Denki: i came to you in my time of weakness

Kaminari Denki: and this is how you repay me

Sero Brain Cells: dude, you gotta tell him at some point

Kaminari Denki: ik…

Sero Brain Cells: and even if you don’t, he’ll probably figure it out soon

Kaminari Denki: wdym

Sero Brain Cells: ur new album. 

Kaminari Denki: what about it?

Sero Brain Cells: half of those songs are so clearly about him

Kaminari Denki: nahhhh no way i kept it hella ambiguous

Sero Brain Cells: ambiguous, huh

Kaminari Denki: shut up

Kaminari Denki: … do you really think he’ll notice

Sero Brain Cells: well, i’m not sure

Sero Brain Cells: you both seem a lil oblivious, so it may be fine

Kaminari Denki: hey 😭

Sero Brain Cells: all love

Sero Brain Cells: but also get ur shit together u raging homo (affectionate, non-derogatory)

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, as if you haven’t been pining for shoto for six business years

Sero Brain Cells: HEY

Sero Brain Cells: …HEY

Sero Brain Cells: HEY 💀

Sero Brain Cells: ik ur stressed rn so i’ll let that slide 🤨

Kaminari Denki: ur right, i’m so anxious

Kaminari Denki: sry for taking it out on u, bro 

Sero Brain Cells: it’s ok bro

Sero Brain Cells: wanna get ur ass kicked in mariokart?

Kaminari Denki: do i want to kick ur ass in mariokart? absolutely

Sero Brain Cells: we’ll see about that

Kaminari Denki: damn right we will

___________

Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

fucking godly at mariokart [mariokart.jpg]

19k comments | 97k retweets | 347k likes

Sero | @serofucks

In response to @kaminaridenki 

oh fuck all the way off, you had steering assist on

3k comments | 45k retweets | 228k likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @serofucks 

OOOOP

47 comments | 430 retweets | 1.4k likes

surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

In response to @kamisimpsimp 

gagged and gooped

31 comments | 338 retweets | 2.3k likes

alex | @kaminarunaronari

In response to @kaminaridenki 

what really concerns me is that you main lakitu

2k comments | 134k retweets | 765k likes

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

In response to @kaminaridenki 

here we are, anxiously awaiting the new album, and this mf is playing mariokart

21 comments | 208 retweets | 809 likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @heyheyh3y 

as one does!

0 comments | 46 retweets | 665 likes

___________

Direct Message 

You: heyyyy

You: it’s release dayyyyyy

Kaminari Denki: when you when you when you whennnnnnnnnnnnnnfdshfkdjs

You: :0

You: looking forward to it!

Kaminari Denki: :3

(Nine Hours Later) 

Direct Message 

You: congratulationsssss!!!!

You: i’ll try to find the time to listen to STATIC soon!!!

Kaminari Denki: thanks :)

___________

Kaminari stares down at his phone, watching as fans discuss the new album. He has the album on shuffle in the background as he tries to brainstorm some choreography. Kaminari has absolute faith in the talented choreographers that he works with—but he just feels like he needs to do something to combat the restless energy surging through him.  

The feedback on the album so far has been overwhelmingly positive, yet he’s still nervous—as if he’s still waiting for a reaction from someone. Shaking his head, he tries to focus on the choreography he’s creating. But that plan quickly backfires. Within moments, his phone buzzes—breaking him out of his thoughts. Kaminari freezes and immediately grabs it from his pocket, heart thudding rhythmically in his chest as he unlocks his phone and goes to his messages. There’s a series of texts from you:

You: ok, i have time to listen, now! You: gonna listen as i make dinner!!!

Kaminari sighs, trying to calm his racing heart. He doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. Taking a deep breath, he puts his phone back in his pocket and decides to practice some of the choreography for his other songs. Even amidst the music running through the space and the dance moves that seemed etched onto his very skin, Kaminari still can’t help but think of you. 

___________

Meanwhile, you’re just getting home from work. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been looking forward to listening to Kaminari’s new album for a bit now. It’s especially thrilling to think that you can discuss it with him afterward—hell, he even seems to be awaiting your feedback. The thought is exciting and nerve-wracking in equal measures. 

You decide to change out of your work clothes before starting dinner, so that you don’t have to worry about staining anything. Then, you grab your Bluetooth speaker and place it on the kitchen counter, before pulling up Kaminari’s newest album and tapping on the first song. Immediately, a beautiful, twisting melody reaches your ears and you swear you feel your shoulders begin to relax. You busy yourself with preparing dinner while his voice fills the space. 

Safe to say, the album is incredible. You really like each song you’ve listened to so far—and have found yourself saving each of them to various playlists. Even if you hadn’t spoken with Kaminari throughout the period he was working on the album, you would be able to tell that he put a lot of effort into it. As you expected, that effort shows through in each and every song.  

His songs are rather hard-hitting, emotionally speaking. The fifth song, traces of you , makes you freeze in place. You have to rewind to listen to one particular portion of the song again: 

…and I stand aside 

as you’re washed away  

with the ebbing tide 

I’m so afraid 

of falling out of love 

Sometimes I look up  

at the blinding black night 

and the stars seem to whisper  

your name in the air 

I feel a shiver roll down my spine 

I remember your hand in mine, 

and I’m just so afraid.  

You don’t know how long you stand at the kitchen counter, letting the lyrics slip into your ears and down your skin. This song is so raw and vulnerable. You feel the sudden urge to close your eyes. For a moment, you can almost trick yourself into thinking Kaminari is singing to you, that these lyrics are meant for you and you alone. It’s a foolish thought, but you can’t quite push it away. You feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you try to picture Kaminari writing down these lyrics. What was he feeling, in those moments? Were his eyebrows furrowed in concentration? Were his hands stained from the still-drying ink of his pen? Was he tapping his foot along to an unheard, not-yet-created melody?  

Something blares loudly, tearing you from your reverie. You blink and look around the room, gasping when you realize you completely neglected the pan on the stove. The pan is smoking and you recognize that insufferable sound to be the fire alarm. You’re quick to turn off the burner. The fire isn’t extinguished. Panicking, you race to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab baking soda. Baking soda, quickly , your mind is practically yelling. You grab the baking soda and haphazardly spread it over the grease fire, relief coursing through you when you see the flames begin to die down. When the fire finally subsides, you look down at your attempt at dinner, only to find a charred pile. You shake your head in disbelief and clean up your mess, before grabbing your phone and skipping to the next song. 

You don’t make the mistake of attempting to make dinner as you listen to the rest of the album, which is a rather smart move, because the remaining songs are lyrical masterpieces. There isn’t a single song on the album that you don’t like. A small smile growing on your face, you open your messaging app. 

___________

Direct Message

You: i love the new album holy shit

Kaminari Denki: really?

You: yesssss omfg absolutely 

Kaminari Denki: akjdfkjfskdjfsdlkf

Kaminari Denki: which track is your favorite? for research purposes 

You: research purposes? lol

You: my favorite is definitely traces of you 

Kaminari Denki: ah, that’s one of my favorites, too!

Kaminari Denki: and lemme just say: i’m so happy you listened! it means the world to me, so thank you <3

You: no need to thank me—just doing my due diligence as a friend! besides, the new album is incredible!

You: and i promise i’m not just saying that to be nice,,, it’s clear you put a lot of effort into it. 

Kaminari Denki: ahhh stawp ur gonna make me all flustered xD

You: hahaha

You: i do have one critique, though

Kaminari Denki: ooooh ok i’m listening 👀

You: traces of you needs to come with a warning

Kaminari Denki: for what? shit how did i miss that

You: “warning: will distract you from cooking dinner and nearly burn your home down”

Kaminari Denki: wait

Kaminari Denki: you did notttttt 💀

You: I DID

You: i was so distracted i forgot i was making dinner

Kaminari Denki: omfgggg that’s insane

Kaminari Denki: i’ve heard a lot of things about my music, but never that it almost burned a house down and ruined dinner 😭

You: lmfaooo 

Kaminari Denki: i’m so sorry 😭😭

You: it’s not your fault, holy shit

You: don’t feel guilty!!!! if it makes you feel better, it was completely worth it

Kaminari Denki: hmph 

You: i wasn’t rly that hungry anyways

Kaminari Denki: hm hm hm hm hmmmmmm

You: whatttt

Kaminari Denki: nothing i gtg

Kaminari Denki is offline. 

You: o….kay? …bye?

___________

You exit out of your messaging app and start rummaging through your pantry for something to eat. Nothing sounds very good right now. You don’t have much food left, either—you’re in desperate need of a trip to the grocery store. You’re sure you can make time to go tomorrow, but as for right now… you’re stuck making do with what you have. Truthfully, you’re tempted to order something—but it’s already getting late and you don’t want to wait even longer for a meal when you’re already hungry. 

You walk out into your living room and flop onto the couch, trying to distract yourself from the hunger gnawing at your stomach. Admittedly, your abrupt conversation with Kaminari is weighing heavily on your mind too. You eventually scroll through YouTube mindlessly, if only to keep yourself distracted. You’re not sure how long you sit there before there’s a sudden ringing sound. You frown, wondering if you’re hearing things. 

The sound occurs again, and you realize that someone must be ringing your doorbell. Squinting in confusion, you head to your front door and peek through the peephole—surprised to find a familiar blond singer standing on your porch. You quickly unlock your front door and swing it open. “Kaminari?” You ask, convinced you’re seeing things. You hadn’t made plans to hang out today, and you assumed that your conversation died off because he was busy. 

“Hey,” Kaminari smiles. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and jeans with a pair of colorful sneakers. His bangs are clipped back and his hair is almost glowing in the dim light of your porch. There’s a sheepish smile on his face that is endlessly endearing. “I heard you missed dinner.” He smiles, holding up a few bags of takeout from a restaurant the two of you had spoken about before. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quickly, hoping that you didn’t make him feel as if he had to provide you with dinner. It wasn’t his fault you were distracted. 

“I wanted to,” he says with a smile, dispelling your doubts. “I think I remember your order, but…” He trails off, averting his eyes with an embarrassed expression. “I got a few different things, just in case.”

“I could kiss you,” you breathe relievedly, unaware of the flush that adorns Kaminari’s cheeks as he processes that remark. You motion for him to come in, before locking the front door and showing him to the dining room. You leave him to unbag the food, while you grab plates and utensils. “Do you want anything to drink?” You ask from the kitchen.

“What do you have?” Kaminari asks casually. 

“Water, soda, sparkling water…” You trail off, looking through your fridge for anything else you may have laying around. 

“Water’s fine,” he smiles. You roll your eyes and grab another glass, filling up waters for you both before returning to the table. Kaminari wasn’t kidding when he said he bought a few different things—as it’s all laid out on your table, it looks as if he bought half the menu. You return to the kitchen and grab the plates and utensils you gathered earlier, before heading back. Unsurprisingly, the pile of food on the table doesn’t get any smaller. 

“This is a lot of food,” you remark cautiously. Realistically speaking, there’s no way you’ll be able to finish all of this, and you feel slightly guilty. 

“Oh, yeah,” Kaminari nods, “I figured we would have enough for leftovers, and stuff.” You nod in agreement, before busying yourself with making a plate. 

“So,” you say, once the two of you are settled in and have begun eating. You didn’t realize just how hungry you were until you took a bite of the food. There’s an inexplicable tension hovering over the air, and you’re unsure if you’re imagining it or not. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Kaminari responds with a nod. “Really good,” 

“Good!” You smile, taking another bite. “Are you topping the charts already?”

He smiles bashfully, poking at his food with a fork. “I think so… yeah.” He’s so humble, and you can’t help but think it’s rather admirable. 

“That’s so cool,” you remark, “I’m so happy for you.” 

“Thanks, I’m happy, too.” He smiles briefly, before looking back down at his food. The happiness in his expression almost seems to flicker for a moment, and the grin on his lips suddenly looks strained. You frown. At first, you want to put that sight down to your imagination; but when the silence stretches on for a while and he doesn’t make a move to continue speaking, you decide to acknowledge it. 

“Are you sure?” You blurt out, before you can contemplate the consequences of speaking so freely. Kaminari looks at you in confusion and you grimace. “Sorry. It’s just- You seem a little… off, I guess.”

“I’m good,” he reassures you with a small nod. The gesture is not very convincing. 

“Okay,” you say, not wanting to push him further. If there’s something he doesn’t want to talk about, you’re not going to force it out of him. After a few moments, your conversation returns to normal. You still have a lingering suspicion that there’s something weighing on his mind, but you decide to forget about it. 

Overall, your dinner is pleasant. You get the chance to ask Kaminari a few questions about the album, and you really enjoy seeing his eyes sparkle as he goes into in-depth explanations of the meanings behind his songs. It feels like you’re seeing a side of him that very few people get to see—but you don’t want to flatter yourself. 

Kaminari offers to help you with the dishes when you’re both finished eating, but you quickly refuse and promise him you’ll finish them quickly. You run water over the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher, promising yourself to run it later that night. When you return to the table, you’re surprised to find Kaminari staring ahead with a troubled expression on his face. His hands are clasped on the table and his lips are pulled in a thin line. 

Before you can even begin to ask, he’s filling the silence. “You were right,” Kaminari admits. He sounds a little strange—almost as if he’s nervous. You stare at him expectantly. “There is something bothering me.”

The tortured expression on his face is a bit worrying. “Well, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” You feel the need to remind him. While you’re concerned about what could be distressing him, you know that sometimes, it’s too painful to talk about those types of things. 

But Kaminari surprises you with his response. “I want to,” he reassures you. You watch as he pushes himself to his feet and stares down at the table, running a finger along the wood. “I’ve just… been trying to figure out how to say it.” 

“Take your time,” you say. “I’m not in a rush.” Kaminari nods appreciatively. 

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to hear, in all honesty. But what he says next feels entirely unreal. “When I first met you, I was attracted to you,” Kaminari chokes out, looking at the ceiling as if nervous to meet your eyes. “I sort of expected it to fizzle, because… well, I didn’t know you all that well. But once we started talking more, I realized that my feelings weren’t going away. While I just knew you as the alluring reporter before, I now knew you as this… this incredible person.” You stare at him in shocked silence. 

“You’re so… You’re kind, smart, and passionate. You have a wicked sense of humor and I always look forward to hearing from you. I…

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with me and my career, but… Truthfully, I hit a bit of a rough spot. My last album was a few years ago and I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to write anything new. But then I met you, and got to know you, and all of a sudden, I was writing all the time. 

“Suddenly, I had an entire album—filled with songs that I wrote while thinking about you. And I didn’t know what to do. I had already tried to bury my feelings for you, and it clearly hadn’t worked at all. I assumed you didn’t feel the same as I did. And I’m still not sure, of course.

“But when you sent those messages earlier… I felt something snap in me. It was like, one moment I was staring down at my phone, and the next, I was walking into that restaurant you were talking about.

“And tonight, I’ve been trying to keep it together… But it’s been nearly fucking impossible. I see you across the table and I can’t help but think that this is how I want to spend the rest of my life—sneaking glances at you, and hearing about your day at work…

“Not to mention, the whole Sero thing… It was stupid. But when you said you liked his music, my heart just dropped. I felt like… I don’t know. I felt like I lost you. Even though you weren’t mine to lose.” 

“Anyway,” Kaminari says, shaking his head before meeting your eyes. He looks simultaneously more relieved and more nervous than before. “I just had to get that out. And now we can pretend I never said anything.” He shakes his head and fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. 

You’re still reeling from everything he just said, but you’re quick to dismiss his assumptions. “What?” You exclaim. “No, Kaminari, I have feelings for you too,” you say. He stares at you with wide eyes. “It’s been so fun getting to know you. You’re just… you’re so bright and energetic, passionate, and good-hearted… I was so nervous when I first met you, because it was my first time ever being on a red carpet… but you made me feel more confident, just by being yourself.”

“And when I got distracted listening to your music earlier… It was because I was thinking of you, and thinking that, somehow, you could be singing just to me. That you could have written that song… just for me. And I know it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid,” Kaminari interjects, before you can spiral into further self-deprecation. “I just told you, I was thinking of you when I wrote them. All of them.” The lyrics flicker before your eyes at rapid speed, as you remember all the words that felt too vulnerable to ever be yours. You think about how you felt as you were cooking dinner—that tight feeling in your chest as you pretended that everything was fine, as you pretended that you were okay with the idea of Kaminari writing those songs while thinking of someone else. Before you can contemplate your next move, you’re surging forward—and Kaminari is too. Your hands cradle his cheeks as you kiss him, and he tugs you impossibly closer with his hands on your waist. His touch sends pleasant shivers down your spine. 

“I guess the fans were right, huh,” you remark with amusement once you break apart. 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Kaminari says, his eyes gleaming. He takes a deep breath, his hands still latched on your waist (as if he doesn’t want to let you go). Indecision draws his lips together into a flat line. “Are you sure you want to do this? Being in a relationship with me… It’s going to be different. I- I can’t pretend that I have any privacy whatsoever, or a super accommodating schedule, or-”

“Of course I want to do this,” you immediately say, before he can continue. “More than anything.” 

Kaminari’s hands migrate up your shoulders and towards the nape of your neck. He leans closer until your foreheads are touching. “I’m just so afraid.” He whispers, so quietly that you nearly convince yourself you didn’t hear it. (The stars seem to whisper your name in the air… I feel a shiver roll down my spine, I remember your hand in mine, and I’m just so afraid). You pull him into a hug.  

“Me too,” you admit in a breath against his shoulder. Kaminari mutters something into your shoulder, but it’s incomprehensible. “Hey, if we can get five and a half million people to watch us stumble through an interview, I think we can do this.” The singer huffs a laugh and pulls back, his hand rising to your cheek and his thumb running across your skin. There’s a smile on his face—one of unmistakable fondness and affection. You lean forward to break the distance between you once more, a euphoric feeling settling in your chest and a smile growing on your face.

endnotes:

i really snuck Seroroki in there, mhwhahaha.

this took so fuckin long to format on here (I had to format it AGAIN despite already devoting time to doing that on ao3), pls show some love if you enjoy it... i'm begging

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat anddd @alex12ander @7heehee7 @the-lurking-await-you since y'all commented on part two

[barleyo]

Just What I Needed. (1)

(Mike Schmidt X F! Reader)

A/N: Hey, guys! I normally don’t post my series on here, but I know that more people know me here than on my Ao3! While I would suggest just going to my Ao3 account to read this, this is here for anyone who would rather stay on Tumblr! This story is an on and off chapter set up, meaning that every other chapter with be about the reader’s past, rather than her present. Please enjoy!

Chapters: 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5, 3, 3.5, 4, 4.5, 5

“What’s your problem, Mike? Punching that guy right in front of his kid?” The counselor scratched the side of his head with his knuckles, looking at the report in his hand incredulously. “I mean, it’s like you don’t want my help, yet, here you are.”

Mike kept quiet, eyeing the stains on the old linoleum floor of the office.

“Mike?”

His head perked up in hearing his name. “Yeah?”

“Are you even listening?” the counselor pinched the bridge of his nose before tossing the paper to Mike. “Of course, you aren’t. What am I even saying?”

“No, I am listening, I promise. Mr. Raglan, just—just listen, okay? Any job. I’ll take any job, and I’ll keep it this time.”

“Are you sure? Because if you aren't, there are plenty of people out there who actually will. No matter how shitty it is,” he said, mumbling the last part quietly to himself.

“I will, you know I need this. I know I screwed up, but I can do it.”

A deep sigh rumbled in Mr. Raglan’s chest. “There is this one job.”

“Yeah? What is it? Like, janitorial?”

“Security. Pay’s bad, but hey, at least the hours are even worse.” Digging through his pocket, he picked out a business card and placed it face up on the table. “Twelve A.M. to six A.M. Think you can handle that?”

“I don’t work nights.”

“What happened to ‘any’ job?’”

Mike slouched back into his chair, thinking about the offer. He really did need the job. Nights may have been inconvenient, but not having a job at all would have been worse.

“When would I start?”

“Attaboy, Mikey,” Mr Raglan said. He wrote down the address and slid the card over. “Tonight should work. There’s no way you can lose this gig, just keep people out. Good thing is, there’s nobody there for you to punch.”

***

Mike pulled into the lot of Freddy’s, feeling the rough pavement bounce his car. Nobody had been in or out of the place in a while, but time had weathered the asphalt to a cracked, pale mess. The building’s outer lights were already on, but he thought nothing of it. Mr. Raglan had told him about the building’s aged wiring system, how lights would flicker on and off, and how the power would randomly shut down.

Slamming the door of his car, he walked up to the wire gate enveloping the door. He tried to pry at it to get it open before seeing the lock and pulling out the key he had been given.

“Jesus, this place is creepy,” he said quietly when he had finally entered. The lights on the inside were also on, but just dimmed enough for him to need to squint to see clearly.

Even in the dark, he could see how stained and cracked the linoleum floor was. Broken pieces of the floor chipped under his feet as he walked into the hallway. Turning the corner, he pushed the door of the office open.

He jolted back quickly, seeing a shadowed figure standing right in front of him. His brain could hardly process what he was seeing before his hand shot up, swinging quickly to make contact with the shadow’s face.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” Mike blurted quickly when he saw the figure reel back into the monitor’s light, revealing a woman in a security jacket. She covered her nose with both hands, trying to stop the blood from flowing out of it and landing on the floor.

“What’s your problem, you ass?” she asked, her voice nasally as she squeezed her nostrils together.

[gunebuggieswriting]

̶Good Bad Habits Run In The Family: Chapter Nine

DPxDC Crossover, Jason Adopts Danny AU

[AO3] [FF.net] [Wattpad]

First Chapter || << Last Chapter || Next Chapter >>

Danny stuttered a look of shock on his face, staring at Jason with his mouth agape for several seconds before abruptly blurting, “What the hell? You can’t just do that! Holy shit, oh my goodness, you just-” He cut himself off, rubbing his face with both of his hands.

Jason knew that Danny would most likely be shocked by the news, but he was surprised by how strongly the teen reacted. It almost made him waver, to want to reverse revealing himself, which was very personal for him. He knew he couldn’t do that though, and he probably wouldn’t if he could, he wanted Danny to know who he was. Who he really was.

“What? Didn’t expect such a handsome face?” Jason easily teased, putting the domino mask on the counter beside his helmet before leaning an arm on it, trying to appear casual while his head fought with itself. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him that he had made a grave mistake, reminding him of what B had always said about their double lives. Another voice, one that grew much louder as time passed from the part of his life he spent with Bruce, telling him that he was allowed to make exceptions when he felt it necessary. Right now, he found it important that Danny knew who he was, as he wanted the kid to trust him. It would make the helping process a lot easier. Jason really wished he knew how to actually help Danny other than the necessities, but he decided he could figure that out.

Danny sighed, slouching back into the chair he almost felt out of when Jason revealed himself. “I’m sorry,” He said, looking down at the ground, sounding genuinely apologetic. “It’s just that, I can’t believe you trust somebody like me enough to put yourself in such a risk by outing yourself. It’s not something you can do lightly.”

Jason thought how much it sounded like Danny was chidding him, much like one of his family members would. He kept that to himself as his lips pulled down into a frown. “What do you mean by ‘somebody like you’?” Jason asked, and without his helmet, Danny could hear the slight confusion and concern lacing the man’s voice. It was odd how much he could now gather without the voice modulation getting in the way, perhaps it was the main reason the man had it in the first place.

Danny looked Jason in the eye, his own eyes shifting a bit to look at each one of Jason’s. Then he seemed to find what he wanted and looked away again biting his lip. “I’m not entirely normal.”

Jason snorted, and Danny’s gaze snapped up at the man to glare at him. Jason ignored it as he spoke, amusement tracing his words. “Yeah, no shit. I didn’t think you were trying to hide it with the glowing eyes and fangs you had going on.”

“I don’t do that on purpose.” Danny huffed, crossing over his arms, going back to scowling at the counter as red reached his cheeks. Danny was embarrassed to not to have only gotten caught by not one, not two, not even three, but four bats in the month he’s been in Gotham.

“Can you not control it?” Jason asked, his earlier humor not as present as he became more serious. After all, if Danny couldn’t control his powers, it could possibly create a problem. He didn’t believe that the teen would ever do any harm on purpose, but that didn’t mean the teen couldn’t have accidents or make mistakes. It could very well be a factor that Jason would have to account for and possibly form a plan to help with, because Danny couldn’t go around with an unknown power set that he didn’t even know how to use.

Danny thought for a second, before nodding. “Yeah, if I thought about it hard enough. Though, sometimes a few inhuman things leak either due to my emotional state or other factors I can’t actually control.” Jason still felt a little apprehensive, as he didn’t know the extent to what Danny’s powers would do if they could act up according to his emotion. Danny looked at Jason for a second before somehow understanding what the man felt without having to say anything. “Don’t worry, all of that usually only affects my appearance, like the glowing eyes. Though the sharp teeth, which I really do dislike, is a byproduct of my nonhuman part.”

Jason nodded, taking in all of that information with stride, already immune to this kind of bullshit in his daily life. What he did think about was what Danny said at the end. “You said that the longer canines are part of the ‘nonhuman part’ of you. Does that mean you’re also part human?”

Danny winced somewhat, an internal battle waging inside him as he struggled on how to answer that or how much he should let Jason know. Sure, the older boy just showed him something incredibly personal that could let Danny seriously hurt him if he wanted, but that didn’t mean that Danny had to do the same, as he didn’t know how much he should trust Jason. He wanted to trust Jason, but he didn’t know him, he only knew Red Hood. Maybe he could get to know Jason now too.

Realizing that he was taking a bit to answer, Danny suddenly cleared his throat, but instead of speaking simply nodded his head. Jason was glad to be confirmed, as now he knew what he was dealing with. He felt like there was more to it, but he didn’t want to push Danny more than he already has. He felt like it was a miracle that the teen didn’t already run, maybe showing his identity was the right decision after all. “Anything else you’d like me to know?”

Danny frowned, but this time it was thoughtful, and he studied the wall as he racked his brain as to what to say. “Um, I don’t know. You already know what I am, my name, and that I’m not from here. I don’t really think I feel comfortable saying more.”

“That’s alright kid, you don’t have to tell me anything else unless you wanna.” Jason hoped that Danny would become comfortable enough with him that he would tell him more, but right now he couldn’t ask for much. He had a lot he wasn’t going to tell either, so it would be hypocritical of him. “Now, are you gonna take me up on my offer?”

Danny looked back at Jason’s carefree smile, and felt himself relax a bit, he was somewhat surprised to see some hope in the man’s eyes. Now that he could see the man’s eyes he could tell that Jason was actually quite expressive, much more than the helmet or domino allowed. “I don’t think you truly understand what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you if you want to stay with me in this crummy apartment. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I will find something for you, as you cannot stay on those streets.” Jason sternly said, daring Danny to argue, who couldn’t help but sigh.

“It’s not that, it’s that, I-” Danny’s voice wavered and he took a deep breath to try and open up his throat that was quickly closing. He didn’t know how to explain this without revealing too much, but he wanted to make sure Jason actually wanted to allow him in his life. That Jason wouldn’t regret it. That he himself wouldn’t regret it. “I come with a lot, and it’s not good. I don’t want to put you in any danger.”

Jason snorted, and once again Danny scowled at him. “You mean more danger than I put myself in when I put on a helmet and go out each night kicking ass? I’m used to danger, kid. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.” Danny wanted to argue, say how this was a lot different. This was with an actual government branch funded by taxes and shit. He wanted to warn Jason, to make him see his way, but he didn’t want to tell everything. It was selfish, wasn’t it? He was going to have another person killed because he was arrogant, secretive, scared.

He guesses he will have to tell the man something though. “I’m not worth it, okay? It’s a lot of extra trouble that I can’t put you through. You don’t have to do this, really. I won’t be upset if you can’t take on more baggage.”

Jason was silent for a few seconds, and Danny was too nervous to look back up in fear that what he would see was something he never wanted to see. He didn’t want to see the pity, or the underlying disgusted look he would receive. He had already seen it too much, again would be too much, he couldn’t handle it right now, he didn’t want to.

“Listen to me Danny,” Jason said slowly, his serious but soft tone filling the otherwise silent room. “I’m not doing this because I feel like I have to, I want to. I really do care about you Danny, even if you’re a bit stubborn to realize that sometimes.” Jason teased a little, trying and succeeding in making Danny smile a bit, however small. The man may not be the best at feelings or talking in general, but he understood where Danny was coming from. Afterall, he’s felt it all before.

Danny finally looked at Jason once more, and he was taken back from what he saw. Jason’s eyes looked so genuine, and the smile seemed so kind, it reminded Danny of Jazz somebody he used to know. His eyes watered, and he lifted his hands to wipe at them furiously, he didn’t want to cry right now. Especially in front of Jason, he already had his meltdown of the day earlier. All of his inner thoughts and restraints didn’t help him though, as he broke as soon as Jason pulled him into a hug.

When was the last time he had been hugged, or touched in general without somebody meaning harm? It felt like forever ago, though a lot of his memories were buried so deep they began to feel like they never happened. This touch was warm, and it had a feeling of safety wrapping around him. His brain forced a memory of the last time his father hugged him. His long bulky arms and large stature easily held Danny too, making him feel safe and cared for. He felt an ache in his chest, and he sobbed, hugging Jason back, all of the longing he so desperately pushed down and pretended wasn’t there resurged with a newfound vengeance.

He wanted his a family. He wanted to go back to living in his a home. He wanted to be safe.

Danny knew he must have been filthy, as he’s been on the nasty streets for a week without a shower, and that his tears and snot must be covering the shoulder he buried his face into, but Jason held him regardless. Danny kept crying, and Jason never let go, allowing the poor boy to get it out of his system. He didn’t know what the younger boy went through, but he had a feeling that it was something nobody should ever have to go through, let alone a child. It hurt to see the boy sob uncontrollably, so broken and tired in his arms. He would take care of Danny, to hopefully help put back the pieces that were what made Danny. He knew that even if he did manage to help Danny, he would never be the same, as there would always be a few missing pieces that would have to be remade with something new. He would have to make sure that those new pieces were good.

Danny slowly quit crying, his loud unrestrained sobs dulling to a quiet sniffle as the man released his hold on the boy. Danny seemed so much smaller and tired now, more like a kid than Jason has ever seen him, and he frowned deeply at the sight.

“Can I get a shower?” Danny asked eventually, still swiping at his nose that refused to quit running. “I feel pretty gross right now.”

Jason chuckled a little, standing up and popping his back. “Yeah, you can get a shower. I think I might have some clothes that’ll fit you. Let me grab them for you and you can get a shower.”

Danny nodded, grimacing a bit when he looked at the wet spot on Jason’s shoulder. Jason noticed what he was looking at and peered down himself, turning his head back up to Danny with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it kid, I don’t care.”

Jason left after that, digging through several piles of old clothes he had made to donate to some charities, glad he hadn’t got rid of them yet. He pulled out a pair that he deemed reasonable enough that may or may not fit the teen and walked back to the counter where Danny was now awkwardly standing next to.

Jason threw the clothes, Danny clumsily catching them, clearly caught off guard by the lack of warning. “Here you go, hope they fit you well enough. Though I bet they’ll still be pretty big on a stick like you. I should probably get you some actual clothes and shit tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Danny echoed with surprise, not expecting for Jason to make plans so quickly like that. He hadn’t even said he was staying or not, which at this point, he already knew that answer for himself.

“Yep, unless you somehow have plans for tomorrow.” Jason said, shifting his weight on one leg as he crossed his arms. “Which I know you don’t so you better not argue with me, because I am getting you some damn clothing.”

Without knowing how to reply, part of him confused and the other part of him still disoriented from his earlier crying session, Danny only nodded his head. Jason, pleased with the answer, grinned. “Alright, glad that was so easily settled. The bathroom is just down that hall, the last door on the left. The towels and rags are in the closet, and you can use my soap and shit until we can get your own tomorrow.”

Again, Danny numbly nodded, already becoming more exhausted by the second to properly try to argue with Jason that all of this was unnecessary. That he didn’t need all these things for himself. That he was still planning to leave as soon as he could, or as soon as danger presented itself. After a few more seconds, Danny turned on his heels, slowly as to not unbalance and trip over his own feet, and walked to the bathroom.

He flipped on the lightswitch, placing the bundle of clothes on the sink counter. He shut the door and glanced up, taken back by his own appearance in the mirror that sat on the wall in front of him. His eyes seemed sunken in and dark, his cheeks more hollow then he remembered, his skin paler then when he last cared enough to look at. He looked worse for wear, actually, probably worse than that.

Reaching out a shaky hand he softly touched the mirror, as if he could feel the mere imposter of himself through the cold glass. He jerked his hand back and brought it to his actual face, tracing the light freckles that had become more prominent on his fading skin. His face felt sticky and his hands greasy, but he couldn’t stop himself from peeling back his lip and looking at his teeth. He noticed how the sharp points he loathed had grown, becoming that much more of an annoyance. He feared what they implied.

Resting his hand back to his side and facing away from the mirror he went to the closet and grabbed a very fluffy red towel from inside, with a matching red rag to match. There weren't many options to choose from, as all of them were red. Well, it did make sense, as the Red Hood did own them. Danny couldn’t help but smile a bit from thought, knowing he would probably use this to make fun of the man later.

Putting the towel on the sink next to the clothes, he breathed out heavily, refusing to look at his reflection again. He took the grime covered clothes off, putting them messily in a pile in a corner of the small bathroom. Sliding open the glass door, he slipped into the shower, shutting the door right back. He slowly turned on the faucet handle, though was immediately blasted with cold water anyways, causing him to flinch backwards before ducking under the freezing stream of water and closer to the wall with the handle. He adjusted the water until it was warm enough that he could stand under it without his breath being forced into his lungs but cool enough that his own internal body temperature wasn’t changed too much.

It turned out that being part ghost meant that he was more sensitive to drastic temperature changes. Although, it was odd that he appeared to be more resistant to heat than the cold, which did make more sense when he learned that his new normal body temperature was below that of a normal human. Being a halfa really did have its fair amount of mystery and struggle.

After sitting under the water for a few minutes, savoring the feeling of the constant water dripping soothingly onto his skin, he began to actually wash his body and his hair. As refreshing as it was to clean off all the collected dirt and grime off of him, he stepped out as soon as he felt like he had gotten it all off. He didn’t want to stay in the shower and use the water more than he had to, feeling like he would be wasting it at that point.

Using the towel to dry himself and his hair, he ran his hand through his hair, satisfied at how it felt fluffy once again, even with the dampness of it. Putting on the borrowed clothes, he did take notice of how they were about two sizes too big, causing him to have to tie the strings on the sweatpants as tight as they would go. The shirt, which was a deep blue, almost seemed to swallow him, reaching his knees. Maybe he would need clothes after all.

He wished he could have packed before he left.

It didn’t matter for right now though, as he hugged his small frame and snuggled into himself, smiling from how the air remained warm in the bathroom. He took a large inhale, his lungs becoming filled with the air as he had a wave of calmness pass over him. The smell of soap and lavender wafted into the hall as he eventually gathered himself to leave the comforts of the small bathroom. Walking back down the hall, he noticed that Jason was in one of the rooms to the right at the end of the short hallway.

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he peaked in from the crack of the door, finding that Jason was currently setting blankets on a blown up air mattress. The same one he used when he stayed at the warehouse.

“You going to come in or stare creepily from the crack of the door?” Jason asked, glancing back for only a second before standing up back on his feet from where he was fixing the makeshift bed. Danny opened the door more, stepping slightly into the room, barely passing the threshold. “I know this isn’t really a bed, but I think it should be fine for now, until I can get you an actual mattress anyways. Sound good?”

“It’s more than enough. Thank you.” Danny said quietly, mumbling the last part as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He was never good at knowing what to do or say when others did something nice for him. It was almost overwhelming at times, and with him so tired right now it wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just get some sleep. You look like you’ll fall over dead any second.” Jason joked, and Danny grinned from the small inside joke that the man didn’t know he just made. It was something that Sam and Tucker joked about all the time.

“Okay, Mister ‘I stay up all night fighting crime with a red bucket’.” Danny teased back, going to the blow up mattress and flopping unceremoniously on it. He lazily lifted one hand and waved dismissively. “Make sure you turn off the light when you leave.”

“Seems like somebody is becoming comfortable already.” Jason playfully jabbed, walking to the door before turning around, placing a hand on the light switch. He hesitated for a second, making Danny somewhat worried about what he may say, before the man made up his mind and spoke. “Goodnight brat, get some fucking sleep so you’ll be ready for the shopping trip tomorrow.”

Oh yeah, Jason was dragging him shopping the next day, Danny was a little anxious about that. He tried not to show it as he titled his head to look at Jason. “Goodnight old man.”

There was a small offended scoff before the light was off. “I am not old.” Jason gruffly huffed, and before Danny could come up with a smart retort to that the man shut the door. A small laugh, which was more of a huff of air than anything escaped Danny and he pulled the covers over him the rest of the way. He curled into the bundle of blankets and wrapped his arms around himself, soon becoming comfortable.

He had missed sleeping on something other than whatever random abandoned spot he could find, usually being the dirty floor of some collapsing building. He was warm and safe and for the moment everything really did feel like it would be okay. He wanted to stay like this forever, but he knew he couldn’t, so he may as well enjoy it now.

Danny slept the best he had in weeks that night, without the fear of somebody finding him for once. Jason let him sleep for however long the poor teen wanted, as he knew how exhausted the other must have been. Life on the streets was not easy, even for somebody with superpowers. He wished he could have done something sooner, took the teen with him instead of letting him go into the dark streets of Gotham. Maybe he should have, but he couldn’t go back and change it, so he would only have to help Danny however he can now. Starting with getting the boy some clothing that fits and other essentials. It was all he knew what to do at that moment, as he’s never taken care of another person before, let alone a teenager. He didn’t even know if he was responsible and old enough to take care of a kid, as he still had plenty of problems himself.

This would be a learning process indeed, hopefully Danny was willing to learn along with him.

Jason was sitting in the living room at the moment, trying to read a book, but was struggling as thoughts plagued his mind. He put the book down when he heard the door creak open, watching Danny slowly creep into the living room rubbing his eyes. Jason never thought about Danny’s eyes too much, but a quick fleeting thought about how he was taking after the old man and his habit of adopting children with black hair and blue eyes. He mentally chased that thought away, not wanting to be compared to Bruce in any way.

“Good morning walking zombie, what do you want for breakfast?” Jason asked, noticing how Danny stopped midway of a yawn and lazily looked at Jason.

“Obviously brains if I’m a zombie.” Danny responded, watching Jason as he headed towards the kitchen.

“Har har, very funny brat.” He said, playfully nudging the teen’s shoulder as he passed. “So, do eggs and toast sound good?”

“Do I have to eat toast?” Danny asked, somewhat quietly, becoming shy once more.

“Nah I’m just going to shove it down your throat.” Jason answered sarcastically, before softening his features. “Of course you don’t have to eat anything you don’t want to. I’m not going to force you to do anything. How about an egg and a bowl oatmeal? That sound better?”

Danny hummed with a nod of his head, and Jason began getting the oats out along with a pan. It took around half an hour but soon breakfast was done and they were both sitting back down at the counter eating. Danny mumbled another appreciative word before eating his own food, shoving it into his mouth much slower than he did the night before.

As they sat there in comfortable silence, Jason believed that he could probably get used to this. It wasn’t bad, having somebody else in his apartment. He realized he liked having Danny around, that he truly got attached to the kid those weeks ago, which he had already figured out way earlier.

After breakfast Jason got dressed into his usual civilian clothes, consisting of a t-shirt with a leather jacket thrown over top, jeans, and combat boots. Danny couldn’t change and instead went out like he was, not minding the oversized clothes as he had been wearing them for most of the time he was on the streets, having kept the man’s clothes then. He only hoped that nobody he had talked to during that time would recognize him, as they would probably question why he was tailing behind Jason. Which he doubted anybody would, as he hardly talked at all during his time on the streets alone.

Jason ended up dragging Danny through a multitude of stores, allowing Danny to pick out whatever he liked. When the man realized that the teen was having trouble even looking at the clothing, Jason had begun picking some out and telling Danny to not worry about the price and just how much he liked it. When Danny tried to argue, Jason quickly brought up how he was well off, being a crime lord and all. That seemed to work as the teen had started picking out clothing after that, trying out a lot of it and showing it off to Jason who put his own input.

It soon spiraled into more of a dress-up game where Jason would make an outfit for Danny to wear. Then the teen would walk out like in the pageants and both of them would rate the outfit out of ten. It resulted in quite a few laughs from the more ridiculous outfits and some new clothes for Danny to wear. Which was a win-win in Jason’s book.

After gathering several bags of clothes they grabbed the rest of what Danny would need for the time he was going to stay with Jason. Danny once again tried to argue, to tell the man that he wasn’t planning on being around for long, but Jason was quick to silence all of the boy’s worries. In the end they got Danny his own soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb for his wild hair, and other things he needed. They took it back and sorted the items out, putting the clothes in Danny’s closet in his new room. When Danny heard that he was going to have his own room, he almost cried again, but stopped himself before he could, holding back his emotions tears.

Done dealing with all of that, it was close to lunchtime, Jason deciding that he would take Danny to a diner for lunch instead of staying home. He ended up bringing him to one of his favorite diners, a small old style restaurant with the red booths and round tables. He didn’t expect Danny to stand at the door and look around with a glaze of something unidentifiable in his eyes, which seemed to be quickly turning into tears.

Jason immediately tried to ask what was wrong but then Danny shook his head and gave the man a watery smile, reassuring that he would be fine. The man didn’t know what could have caused the reaction, but he didn’t press any further and instead guided the teen to a table for the two.

Being a regular at the diner, the waitress walked up with a friendly smile, asking how Jason was doing before realizing he didn’t come alone.

“Aw! Who’s this cute kiddy?” The girl, Amy, asked, grinning and cooed a bit when Danny bashfully tried to cover his reddening face.

Jason laughed and Danny had glared at the man through his hands, causing more laughter. “Meet Danny, he’s staying with me.” He explained, taking the single menu the girl had grabbed, laying it in front of Danny as he already knew what he wanted. “Don’t be fooled by his shy act, he’s actually pretty snarky when you get to know him.”

“This kid? Snarky? He looks too adorable to be mean.” Amy continued to tease, before straightening up, holding out her notepad and pen. “So, what would you two gentlemen like to drink?”

“I’ll just take a sweet tea, without the lemon.” Jason easily ordered, the girl nodding as she wrote it down.

Amy turned her attention back to Danny, smiling more gently. “And what about you kiddo?”

Danny finally mustered up the courage to look the waitress in the eye. “I’d also like a sweet tea, though I would like a lemon with. Please.” Danny added the last part hurriedly, going back to glaring at the menu on the table with rising embarrassment.

Amy giggled a bit, before waving at Jason and leaving to go get their drinks. When she came back Jason and Danny ordered their food. Both of them enjoyed the greasy food with laughs and easy conversation. Jason was pleased to see how much Danny was beginning to open up and be himself around him, even if he was still wary around others. It was a step forward.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door jingle, which wasn’t anything unusual as people walked in and out quite regularly from the diner, but Danny had stopped mid sentence and perked up. He twisted his head with a surprising amount of speed to the door, which was a few tables behind him, and Jason followed his movement. Jason was surprised to see Dick and Tim there, the older of the two looking around while the younger one scrolled aimlessly on his phone.

Jason groaned and slid in his seat, a hand over his face. Why were they here? Actually, the more important question. Why the hell did Danny act like that? He didn’t do that for everybody else who entered and left, but as soon as Dick and Tim did he turned around like he knew they were coming. The teen could apparently sense others from Duke’s report, so maybe he had recognized one of their auras or some shit? Dick hadn’t been in Gotham for a while though, so that must mean he had already met Tim, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t when the teen was in his civilian clothes.

Great, now he had to try and explain to the bats that the superhuman teen they were tracking knows their identities and also try to make sure Danny doesn’t run away simultaneously.

Dick spotted Jason and called out the man, making said man slink further into his seat while rubbing his face. Just as soon as he thought his outing with Danny was going so well too. The teen looked like he was about to bounce any second, watching Tim with rapt attention, like the teen was going to pounce at him at any moment. Jason wondered if Tim already did, because if so, he was going to kick his ass.

“Jaybird, I knew you would be here-” He cut himself off as he finally saw the other boy sitting with him, who was on the edge of his seat still watching Tim. Tim was now also staring at Danny with wide eyes, seeming to already recognize the teen. Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim, becoming suspicious of how much he already knew. Did he somehow slip up and didn’t catch Tim following him around again? He was for sure going to kick the teen’s ass, no matter how much Dick would try to hold him back.

“Oh, who’s this?” Dick said, slipping a charming smile directed to Danny. Danny didn’t respond though, still in an intense staring match with Tim. The air grew awkward as the two others sat there like outsiders to whatever was happening between the two teens.

Jason cleared his throat, Dick’s attention going to him. “This is Danny.” His eyes flickered to Tim, watching as Tim tried not to flinch. “He’s going to be staying with me.”

Dick, not oblivious to the tension hanging between the three others, nodded before stepping back. “Well, we’ll get out of your hair now. Just wanted to let you know that Alfred is expecting you this weekend for supper, and he said that he already made preparations for another person, I guess this is him?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if he’ll want to come though.” Jason answered even though he knew he never told Alfred about Danny, still glaring at Tim who was shuffling uncomfortably from the two pairs of eyes on him.

Dick only nodded, not wanting to address what was going on in fear it would cause a fight of some sort. “I’ll make sure to tell Alfred that.” With that Dick left, dragging Tim with him, who scurried right behind not wanting to be in the diner any longer.

As soon as they left Danny’s head whipped around to Jason, a disbelieving look on his face. “You’re related to Red Robin?” He said harshly in a whispered tone, and Jason groaned again, knowing he had a lot to explain now. On both parties. This should be fun.

[according2thelore]

just found your tumblr account and thought id give you the comments i never left on your fics. my top three are: I. “swallow my breath and take whats mine” nothing to say about this one except i live for feral sam, the fear for dean’s death and acceptance of letting himself be cannibalized just because he doesn’t want to lose him and at the end the contempt for john, for how far he’s willing to go just to train dean (his inability to understand that it is NOT normal has a whole other special flavor). it was short, lovely and heartbreaking with a je ne sais quoi in sam’s feelings towards dean. 10/10. II. “and its you that i want” this was more lighthearted, not accounting for the breakup between dean and girl X, the best part was sam needing to be used, his desire to be just a vessel for deans pleasure. also i love EVERYTHING that depicts sam’s discomfort with his size with his need to be smaller. overall the smut is so sexy and intimate and also i love the fact that theyre obsessed with each other even in another universe. i love every smith/wesson fic because i love to imagine their reactions when confronted with what they would do with each other when not being stuck with whatever inhibition theyre battling with. 12/10 just because it has smut. “souls tied intertwined by our pride and guilt” NO. WORDS. it is my most read fic on ao3 in the whole seven years ive used the platform and it was published less than a year ago. i love everything. every word, every emotion. the fic starts with the voyeur moment, dean’s guilt at the idea that it was sam’s worst terror and sam’s fear that he may have revealed too much and everything its now out in the open. “the dark side of the moon” is already a seriously angsty episode by itself, but your spin on it with their guilt, their shame and the continuous misunderstandings is lovely.

dean’s overthinking about when did he become so overwhelming to sam that he was TERRIFIED of his big brother, when did he become something that sam needed to escape from leaving for college? sams line that said he “always lived with it” had dean spiraling with guilt and shame and fear so much that he left and “threw” away the amulet. sam on the other hand is full of shame for his biggest desire is out there, the crippling need to have his brother, so debilitating that he had to escape, not from deans leering as he may think, but from his fucked up needs, his perversion of their relationship, of him feeling like he twisted up something genuine and good so much that his brother is now disgusted with him (i love when one of the two seems “disgusted” leaving the other feeling dirty and a pervert) overall i never found a fic that fit all of my reading needs as well as this one. you took a basic misunderstanding trope and spun it in a whirlwind of suffering, dejections, inhibitions and the best part GUILT AND SHAME.

i have no more words 100/10 i live for it. keep up with your writing because i live for it and eat up every single work you produce.

sorry if some bits are grammatically incorrect english is not my first language.

much love<3

HI ANON!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!

thank you so much for this ask!!!!!! i actually think i have answered this one already, and thank you for being so kind!!!!!!! i want to make sure you can see this so i copy-pasted my answer below, bc i had such a lovely time reading this and responding to it!

anon...oh my god anon...anon...

okay so i'm thinking an autumn wedding? how soon do you think we could book a venue?? i mean, we could always elope.

but seriously, anon--holy shit. this ask made my MONTH. i don't know what i did to deserve such lovely and incredible people on this blog but i am so GRATEFUL!!!

just little responses to the comments:

EEP! thank you! desperately devoted winchesters are delicious! we see series!sam being incredibly unhinged about dean/his safety, so i was interested to explore how a pre-series!sam would navigate a situation like that. 

heehee i'm glad this one was good! charlotte beta'd the first half of this fic in public, and it was quite funny to watch her (a lesbian who is also new to A/B/O) give it a read. servicetop sam is something that i love that i also don't see a lot of, so i loved being able to add some in this universe where their power dynamics are slightly shifted (in the corporate ladder sense and also alpha/omega lol). a +2 for the smut!! hell yeah!!! thank you ! :)

okay, small guilty pleasure moment, i LOVE misunderstanding tropes. admittedly in big, long pieces of fiction (fan or otherwise) in the 40k+ category, i can get tired of it, but misunderstandings are such a great way to understand and explore the interpersonal and INTRApersonal strengths/weaknesses/flaws of characters and their understanding of the world they are in. i was afraid everyone was going to hate this fic on sight bc it's written for me (and charlotte) specifically (and i've found from some very vocal and angry people that they hate misunderstandings (not on this blog, thank goodness, everyone has been lovely!)), but i am SO INCREDIBLY HONOURED AND GRATEFUL AND GLAD that you like it!!!!! i don't even have words for how much all of the comments, but this one especially, meant!!! all of your comments breaking it down made me smile wider and wider!

i hope my work continues to be entertaining, and THANK YOU again for this lovely ask!! (ps, your grammar is stellar!! much love!!!)

-lizzy <3

(pps mwah mwah mwah mwah)

[brattata]

Windows

Crossposted from my AO3 account, if it seems familiar. Mature content below, so minors please DNI!

Joseph's been putting a lot of work into your real estate business, and it's really starting to pay off. You wanted to congratulate him by christening his fancy new desk in his fancy new office, but things don't go according to your plan.

Joseph Joestar x AFAB reader (no female pronouns used, but reader wears feminine clothing)

CW: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, Joseph says “cunt” one (1) time 

“It’s impressive,” you admit, leaning in for an almost-kiss.

Instead of closing the distance, Joseph grabs your hands and pulls you up from the couch excitedly, leading you over to the far wall. “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he teases. “Watch this.”

He reaches up to press a subtly disguised switch, and it becomes apparent that the “wall” is actually a massive floor-to-ceiling window, slowly revealed from behind the dark wood paneling.

“Wow,” you whisper, pressing your hand to the cool glass. Beyond it is the Manhattan skyline, breathtaking from 15 stories up. The brightness of the city obscures most of the stars, but the thousands of twinkling lights and glowing windows are beautiful in their own way. There are people behind some of those windows, you think – working late, or maybe enjoying time with their families. Maybe taking in the view with the person they love most, the way you are now.

Joseph hums a kiss into your hair, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His comforting weight against your back and impish smile reflected in the glass make you feel so warm inside, your heart could burst.

Until one of his hands slips beneath your skirt.

“JoJo!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy!” he laughs. “The champagne, the perfume…that skirt, with no nylons underneath.” His smirk is undeniably sexy, but that only makes you more annoyed. “You didn’t come here for a tour of the new office.”

“No, I wanted to celebrate with you!” You pause. “In your new chair, or maybe on top of your new desk. But not in front of a window, Joseph!”

“Why not?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Someone could see!”

“Who?” he laughs again. “It’s late. No one’s watching. Even if they were, they would be too far away to see our faces.” Now he’s trailing kisses down the back of your neck, shameless as ever in exploiting your weaknesses. “And besides, I think you like an audience.”

“I-JoJo, what-,” you splutter, scandalized and yet burning at his accusation.

“I noticed last summer at Grandma Erina’s,” he replies, letting his lips brush against your nape. “When Smokey walked in on us. You remember, right?”

How could you forget? Even now, the memory has your insides twisting with a complicated emotion you can’t quite place. Like embarrassment but sharper, hotter. Exciting.

“I’d never seen you make that face before. Not to mention the way you held onto me…and well, held onto me.” Joseph pauses from tormenting your neck to flash you a dirty little grin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“O-oh, Joseph, I’m. I don’t know,” you trail off. Immediately his chin comes to rest on top of your head, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other curling soothingly around your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby,” he murmurs. “I only want to make you feel good.”

You take a moment, studying your feelings and Joseph’s gentle (but hopeful) expression. Then you unfasten your skirt.

Immediately Joseph lets go of you with a little whoop and a fist pump before tearing into his shirt and tie.

“God, you’re lucky you’re handsome,” you scold him good-naturedly, giggling a bit at his childishness. You kick the skirt away, opting to leave your kitten heels on. Next comes your blouse, which you unbutton slowly for Joseph’s benefit. His shirt is gone, along with his belt. He palms himself lazily over unbuttoned pants, watching your fingers work.

“Don’t forget heroic, a genius, and—“ his bragging is cut short by a low whistle as your bra is revealed, a delicate little number formed of translucent lace. Once you let the blouse fall he can fully appreciate the matching panties, cupping your ass nicely but leaving very little to the imagination. “Baby, you did come dressed to celebrate.”

When you reach back to undo the bra clasp Joseph stops you, lips back on your neck and hands rubbing your shoulders. Instead you tug the cups down until your breasts spill out, earning you a hissed “Niiice” before his hands quickly replace the lace. The contrast is delicious – warm, calloused flesh on one side, smooth and cool metal on the other. Both options have your nipples pebbling almost instantly, Joseph kneading your tits with reverence as if this is a rare treat rather than something he gets to do almost every day.

It is kind of a special occasion.

Before long his right hand drifts down your stomach, slipping deftly into your underwear. You’re so slick he can barely keep a finger on your clit, forcing a whine from you and a low groan from him. “Holy shit, you’re wet! The thought of putting on a show for some strangers gets you this worked up?”

“N-no, I’m excited for you, JoJo,” you coo, hips undulating along with his fingers. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

“Hmm, seems like I barely need to touch you at all,” he replies, back to his smug grin. With little warning he slips one finger inside you, then two, then three. There’s the tiniest sting, but you take them all easily. “See? You’re already ready for me.” It’s hard to argue when his strong, thick fingers are knuckle deep inside you and your pussy is still aching for more. “Since you want it so badly, guess it’s time to stop playing around and have some real fun.” The fingers are gone. “Bend over, baby.”

With a shaky sigh you do as you’re told, bracing your hands against the window and sliding your legs apart. You can’t resist wiggling your hips a little, asking for a playful swat from Joseph’s right hand. His left hand is suddenly gripping your ass, thumb spreading your lower lips open even wider and sweeping the gusset of your panties aside. You hear a zipper and rustling fabric, but instead of his cock, it’s a puff of warm air that caresses your pussy, followed by a firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you wail, leaning your forehead against the glass.

“Not until you beg for it, my love,” Joseph chuckles. “I can eat this sweet pussy all night! Make you come until you’re crying for my cock!”

“JoJo!” you moan, desperately. You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but he’s sucking hard on your clit and you can barely hold a thought. He’s always been vocal during sex, but his babbling is usually sweet, not this demanding or…filthy. You love your adorably enthusiastic Joseph, but this version is also thrilling, and it makes you wonder if you’re not the only one excited by imagining eyes on the other side of the window. He’s slurping your pussy so loudly you know it’s deliberate, groaning like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And for another reason, you realize, when you look at your reflections and see him vigorously stroking his cock. It’s the sight that carries you over the edge: Joseph kneeling with his face buried between your legs, so turned on that he can’t help but touch himself. You come with a strangled squeal, and Joseph gives your clit an affectionate peck as if to say “good job.” He’s gripping the base of his cock so hard it looks painful.

“Fuck me, JoJo,” you gasp. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You rest for a bit against the window while Joseph stands and adjusts his grip on your hips. Now there are two thumbs spreading you open completely, which you might protest as embarrassing if you weren’t turned on beyond all pretense. You suck in a breath when the head of his cock finally kisses your opening, only for him to stop before taking the plunge.

“Look at that. It’s show time after all.” Blearily, you lift your head to see a silhouette in one of the windows in the office building across from you. Whoever it is has dimmed their lights so you can’t see much other than a vague shape, but it’s easy to imagine a strange pair of eyes staring into yours as Joseph sinks deep with one thrust.

The sudden stretch and the arousal have you coming again, softly this time, an aftershock of the pleasure you got from Joseph’s tongue. He leans his weight against your ass and holds still, luxuriating in the way you ripple around him, like you want him even deeper. “Fuck, this is good! We should’ve done this sooner!”

“Yeah,” you agree dreamily, grinding back against Joseph while you wait for him to move. He pulls back and thrusts hard, making your palms squeak against the glass.

“Maybe-“ he grunts, “maybe we should try it again on Monday morning. I’ll brace you against the doorway of my office, just like this, and we can show everyone that sexy face you’re making. Show them how hard I make you come.”

“But I don’t want them to see,” you murmur back. “Those things, I only want to show them to you, JoJo.”

“S-shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So beautiful!” He has a hand around your breast again, lips, tongue, and teeth trailing across your neck and shoulders just the way you like. He presses his face next to yours and gently tilts your chin up, making you look out the window again. “It looks like our new friend agrees.”

Across from you, the silhouette’s arm is moving back and forth. You can’t really see what’s happening, but you know.

“You’re so sexy, you’ve got him jerking off in the middle of his office,” Joseph laughs breathily. He slips two fingers between your parted lips, stroking your tongue in time with his thrusts. “Who could blame him? Watching those gorgeous tits bouncing above that pretty lace. Imagining his cock is the one pounding out your hot little cunt.”

You stiffen up a bit at the vulgarity and Joseph kisses your temple, asking with his eyes if what he said was okay. “Yes, yes, fuck,” you moan around his fingers, bracing against the glass to shove yourself into his cock, demanding deeper, harder, more. Joseph tilts his head to kiss you hungrily. His wet fingers go straight to your clit where they rub and pinch until you’re whimpering into his mouth, near tears.

“He can’t even hear how wet you are,” Joseph continues. “So wet you’re dripping all over the nice new carpet.”

You laugh a little at that. “As if you’re not desperate to make an even bigger mess, JoJo,” you tease back, lips touching as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Will you clean me up, baby? After you make a mess of me?”

“Fuck yes,” Joseph groans. “I’ll do anything, anything!”

“Come for me. Come inside me. I need it so badly, JoJo.” Whether it’s a plea or a command, Joseph can’t help but obey. He presses his face between your shoulder blades and one lightly Hamon-charged fingertip to your clit, and you’re thrown off the cliff of a breathless, whiteout orgasm. It feels like every muscle in your body is clenching for Joseph’s cock. He’s scorching hot and huge inside you as he fills you up, and you wring him for every last drop. He slowly pulls out and helps you right yourself, turning your back to the window as he leans down for a kiss.

“That was amazing. I love you.” Before you can return the words he’s already sinking to his knees, nudging your legs apart so he can fit between them.

“Joseph, I’m tired,” you demur, stroking his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“But I still need to clean up,” he insists. When he grins at you like that, you can’t say no. “I’ll go slow, baby, I promise.”

He starts with your inner thighs, looking very pleased with himself when he gets a few giggles out of you from the ticklish sensation. When his mouth finally reaches your center it is slow and soothing. He’s not trying to force another orgasm from you – just enjoying you, caring for you, showing his love. You don’t come by the time he’s finished, but you don’t need to. You just want him to hold you, so he does.

When you reach the couch he plops down on it, keeping you cradled in his lap. He takes off both of your shoes and stretches out on his back (as much as he can), draping you across his front. He’s warm, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and even though you know you’re going to be ungodly sore tomorrow, right now everything feels perfect.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

“Anytime, baby,” he chuckles warmly. He smiles up at you, looking happy but not as content as you feel.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, a little worried. “It was good for you, wasn't it? Not…weird?”

“Of course, it was great for me! Don’t look at me like that!” He reaches for your cheek, rubbing at the corner of your frown. “I was just, ah,” he clears his throat, adjusting your position so that you’re more beside him than on top of him. On the way down, your leg brushes what is unmistakably a semi-erection already straining against his briefs. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about ‘celebrating’ on my desk.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, nuzzling against his shoulder, eyes already closed.

“Your next line is: ‘Maybe tomorrow, JoJo!’”

“Nice try.”

[arlert0]

While They’re Gone

Fic copied from my Ao3 account!

Summary: Captain Levi and the rest of the squad are out getting supplies, leaving Armin and (y/n) at the compound

2,356 words.

Warnings: Lots of smut and some fluff, 18+

“Everything that Levi told us to do is pretty much already done..?” I spoke with a questioned tone, stacking up the new plates in the cabinets of the compound building that our squad stayed in. “Seems so.” Armin answered, stepping up behind me to place his hands on my waist, giving it a squeeze to make me jump.

“Ah!” I squeaked, closing the cabinet door before turning around. He gave me a toothy smile and stood in front of me. “What are you doing?” I asked, softly looking at him as I reached up to place my palm flat on his forehead, pushing up his bangs to reveal the skin underneath. “Mmm, nothing.” Armin said as if he was in thought, leaning forward quickly to press a small kiss to my nose after I had pulled my hand away.

I giggled, and reached up a little to kiss his lips, and placed my hands on his chest, his own on my hips. Armin trailed small, gentle kisses from my lips to the soft spot under my ear, giving it a small nip. I shuddered and let out a small gasp. After he trailed his lips down my neck, he suddenly bit down; giving a tender spot a long suck.

“Arm-Armin..” I looked out the partially opened window above the double sink. “A-aren’t the others going to be back soon?” “They’re out getting supplies.. Levi told me they shouldn’t be back ‘til late.” Armin answered, giving one of my hips a slight squeeze with his thumb as he gazed back at me again.

My eyes focused on the dining table behind us as I thought. “Hmph..” I focused back on him, and lifted myself up onto the counter, my face almost level with Armin’s. I lifted my arms to lay over his shoulders. Our eyes flicked from each other's eyes and lips, before we leaned in to press our lips together.

Eyes closed, we slowly made out; one of Armin’s hands lifted to cup my cheek. I smiled into the kiss, tilting my head slightly. “Mmn..” Armin slowly swiped his tongue on my bottom lip and I parted my lips. Swirling our tongues together, his other hand slid up my back, goosebumps popping up on my arms.

I wrapped my legs around Armin’s waist, pulling our cores flush together. He breathed in sharply and groaned into the kiss, his pants already starting to somewhat strain him. Armin broke the kiss, both of our eyes half lidded as we caught our breaths. I giggled, and rocked my hips forward to rub against him; Armin letting out a hiss.

“F-fuck, why do you have to be like this?” He chuckled, leaning in enough to bump our noses together. “You started it.” I bit my lip and rocked myself again, slower. “Damnit..” Armin visibly shuddered. “You drive me so crazy..” He looked up with a glisten of lust in his eyes. “I do?” I asked innocently.

“Yes.” He said a little deeply, then wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, and suddenly lifted me up over his shoulders. “Armin!” I shouted as he carried me back to his dorm room. “You ass, put me down!” I whined and flailed my arms before he plopped me down on the desk he used in the corner.

Armin went over and shut the door. “I want to try something..” He unzipped his pants and slipped them off his legs to relieve himself. I glanced at the tent in his briefs as he stepped back over, my cheeks turning red. “Try what?” I questioned, Armin’s hands gripping the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head. “You’ll see.” He pecked my lips.

I smiled again and pressed a longer kiss to his lips, reaching down to undo my own pants this time. Armin bit his bottom lip, hooking his index fingers in the loops of my pants to help me shimmy them down my legs without getting off of the desk.

I looked up at Armin with my back resting against the wall, waiting for his next move silently; his own eyes studying my face for a little longer than a moment. “You’re so pretty.” He blurted. “I-I know I always say that but..! Your-you’re just so so pretty..” Armin’s cheeks turned red this time, his forehead now resting against my shoulder.

“Ah!” I squeaked, my own cheeks flushing from the compliment. “Armiiin..” I pulled his head back, cupping his face. “You mean s-so much to me..” I spoke as I giggled, big smiles growing on our faces while we moved back into each other. “I love you-” Armin mumbled against my lips before kissing me again.

We made out once more as Armin lifted my thighs so my feet would rest on the desktop. Separating my knees with his body, he leaned into me more. Armin then reached down with his right hand, and gently started to rub me through my panties. My leg slightly twitched, softly moaning into his mouth.

Armin added more pressure to the nub under the fabric that was still covering me. “Mm!”’ I moaned again before breaking the kiss. “You’re so wet already baby.” Armin cooed. “No shit..” I bit my lip, my remark making Armin smirk.

He pulled his hand away, and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, moving a little to slip them down my legs. I lifted my back from the wall to unhook my bra from my shoulders, and tossed it onto the floor. Armin watched me do so, and pulled the chair out from under the desk and sat on it.

My face shot red, realizing his idea when warm air blew over my pussy; his face mere inches away. “A-Armin, what are you doing?” I asked anyways. “What’s it look like?” Armin scooted the chair closer, wrapping his arms around my thighs.

“Wa-wait!” I blurted out with no avail; his warm tongue separating my folds. I jolted slightly, and Armin pressed his mouth more into my heat. Rolling my already swollen bud around with his tongue, he gave it a long and thorough suck. “Oh!” I gasped, quickly reaching up to slap my hand over my mouth to cover my sounds.

Armin continued his movements, licking all around my core. I extended my other hand down to lace my fingers in his short blond hair. “Fuck-” I spoke into my hand as Armin inserted his middle finger, coating it in my juices.

Armin added another finger, and slowly began to finger me. He pulled his lips away, and started to curl his finger tips upwards as he pumped them in and out of me. "You taste really good.." He commented. I gasped and Armin reached up with his other hand to pull my hand away from my face. I bit my lip, trying to hold my moans back as he grazed that spot. He gazed up at me, loving that his ministrations made my face contort in nice ways.

Armin narrowed his eyebrows as he adjusted his fingers to a slightly newer angle, and I let out a long, loud moan. “Armin..!” I squealed, my head resting back against the wall. “Ooh fuck..” I moaned again, and Armin dipped his head back down to eat me out.

My mouth opened as I tried to moan out, my throat not letting a sound escape as Armin’s tongue eagerly flicked hard over my clit. I grasped his hair tight with my hands on his head. Armin finally added his ring finger, sloppy wet sounds coming from his mouth. “Aaah! Oh my god..!” My back lifted from the wall for a second as I twitched hard, my hair falling over my shoulders. “Gh! I-I’m gonna cum ‘lready!” I pulled slightly too hard on Armin’s hair making him groan into me.

“Cum for me baby.~” Armin spoke lowly after he pulled his lips away for a moment to lick them clean, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to my pussy. He continued to thrust his fingers into me, moving his head to the side to bite at the inside of my thigh; his thumb swiping my nub. Armin left nips and sucks on a spot before glancing up at me. I lifted my other leg and placed my foot on his shoulder, and I slid down the desk to slightly push myself into him more. “Hah!” I moaned loudly again.

“That’s it..” He coerced, chuckling as he dove back down once again to lap up some juices before sucking on me again. He sped up his movements and started to softly hum. “Fu-uck Armin..!” I screamed out, squeezing my eyes shut as well as squeezing Armin’s head slightly with my soft thighs. I twitched again, cumming hard on Armin’s tongue and fingers as I began to shake with pleasure, long moans spewing from my lips.

Armin slowly pulled his fingers out after my orgasm finished, and left a last thorough lick to my swollen and red bud; making me twitch once more. I panted heavily as I watched Armin reach over his desk to grab a tissue to wipe his hand dry. “Holy shit…” I whined, trying to catch my breath. “Was that good?” He questioned. “What kind of question,” I paused for a second. “I-is that?”

Armin stood to toss the tissue away in the can in the corner of the room, a large smile adorning his features. He turned back to face me, and glanced down to undo the buttons on his blue button up. I placed my feet on the chair, shivering a little from the previous sensations. After Armin had dropped his shirt to the floor to expose his toned abdomen, he pulled his boxer briefs off by the waistband, his cock bouncing upwards. I bit my lip, gazing at him as he gave himself a few hard strokes.

Armin took a hold of the back of the chair and pulled it away and to the side, my legs dangling from the desk. He bit his lip as well, moving close to lift my thighs up to put my legs back up like before. I looked down and gasped softly as he slowly prodded and rubbed his member over my red and wet pussy.

“Let me make you feel good again.” Armin spoke up before leaning in to kiss me once more. He slowly pushed his tip through my soaking entrance; bottoming himself out easily from the slickness. I moaned softly into the kiss, feeling completely full; Armin’s grip under my knees slightly tightened. He suddenly and gently bit my bottom lip to cause me to moan again, then he swirled his tongue around with my own. Tasting myself on his tongue, I twitched as Armin pulled himself out of me only to thrust back inside.

“You feel so fucking nice..” Armin broke the kiss to mumble against them. I moaned loudly as he started to thrust a little harder. I gazed down, loving the sight of his dick slipping in and out of me. “God, Armin!” I rested my head back before snapping it back towards him just as Armin reached down with a hand to rub me again, my one leg wrapped around his waist. “Aah-hah!” My thighs shuddered. “Fuck-” Armin squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, the sound of one of the desk corners starting to bang against the wall with each of his thrusts, making him open them again.

Letting out a slight deep groan, Armin leaned down to bite down on my lower neck. I started to get close to my peak again, my eyes glazing over. I moaned a little too loud into Armin’s ear as I came, his hand not stopping as he continued to fuck me. After leaving a few dark hickies to his liking, he pulled back and thrusted faster into me.

“G-god, you’re so fucking beautiful..” Armin moaned as well, pulling his hand away, his own movements starting to become erratic as he became closer to his own peak.

The overstimulation from him continuing to thrust into me made me squeal loud. I had wanted to say something in response but I couldn’t form a coherent sentence in my brain, so I pulled him down to kiss him once more, swirling my tongue around with his sloppily. We moaned into each other's mouths and sounds of skin slapping together echoed through the room along with our sounds.

Armin continued to ram my sweet spot just right, my body starting to tremble. “Mmm!” We both groaned; my pussy squeezing him tight as I came hard a third time. Armin broke the kiss as he came as well, his dick stuffed deep inside of me. Both of us twitched, panted, and moaned, as Armin somewhat rested against me while we came down from our highs.

“Fuck (y/n)..” Armin leaned his forehead against mine as he pressed another kiss to my lips, still panting hard. “Nngh..” I whined, keeping my arms around his neck. After a moment Armin pulled his member out of me, and I unwrapped my legs from his waist.

“M-my legs feel like noodles..” I whined again, my face still flushed red. “I’m sorry.~” Armin gave me a small smile and a laugh. He looked back for a moment before turning back to pick me up, carrying me over to the bed in the other corner. He immediately laid down, pulling me along with him to spoon me. He lifted the blanket from behind him and placed it over both of us.

“Aah, Armin?” I giggled slightly as his arm snuck around my waist tickled me a little. “Mhm?” He pecked small kisses over the back of my neck after moving my hair away. “That was really really nice..” I blushed, wrapping my hand over his, and he flipped his hand over to intertwine our fingers. Armin smiled against my skin, his eyes closed. “It was.~” He nuzzled into me, as our breathing started to sync.

I gazed out the window, seeing the sun not yet set but getting low. “We’ll have to clean up soon.” I yawned. “Twenty minutes..?” Armin gave me a squeeze.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

[jaskierswolf]

Hmmm Geraskier Legally Blonde AU. Music major Jaskier follows his long-time muse Chiridean to law school (what, like it’s hard?) but finds him smitten with all-star student Yennefer. Cue Jaskier needing the broody TA, Geralt’s help in not flunking out. Jaskier ends up rocking the high-profile case of Callonetta, even after evil law professor Stregobor attempts to toss him out. (I also needed an excuse to put Jaskier in a playboy bunny outfit. For reasons.)

I am so so sorry this took so long. I almost made it into a longer piece and honestly I may still use the scenes in this to expand into a longer fic on AO3 if I have time but for now...  voila! _____________

Jaskier was tearing his hair out. There was no way he would be able to get the grades he needed to get into law school. He was a musician for fuck’s sake. There were so many words and they were all so boring. The paragraphs blended together and blurred making it nearly impossible to focus. He groaned and thumped his head on the table. He could do this. He wanted to do this. He had just hit a wall. He’d been concentrating so hard for weeks, which was, quite frankly, impressive for him. That sort of focus was usually reserved for his composing.

“Come on, Jask. You can do this!”

He couldn’t do this.

“How’s it going, buttercup?” Triss asked as she popped her head around the door.

Jaskier pouted and gazed wistfully out the window at the parties in the street below. “I should be out there, Triss. I could have been up on the stage or snogging some gorgeous person behind the curtain!”

Triss smirked and put her hands on her hips. “Snogging?”

Jaskier winked. “Or fucking,” he added with a shrug. “Anything is better than this shit!” He said gesturing widely to the the stack of books on his desk.

“You could just give up?”

Jaskier gaped at her and huffed. “My muse!” He whined.

“Suit yourself,” Triss shrugged. “Ready to go again?”

Jaskier groaned but nodded as Triss passed him another test whilst setting an alarm on her phone.

“Go!”

He sighed but began to scribble furiously. He could do this!

__________

He’d fucking done it. Jaskier Pankratz was at Law School. His parents had never been so proud. They’d restored his inheritance to their estate and he finally had access to his bank accounts again. No more living on tips and barista wages for him. He grinned. He’d always known that Chireadan would be the best muse! He strutted down the halls dressed in his favourite black skinny jeans and a shocking pink crop top, his guitar slung over his shoulder and an ice coffee in hand.

It was time for the next part of his plan. It was time to get his muse back!

He smiled and waved cheerfully at his fellow law students as he danced through the corridors, sipping his ice salted caramel latte through a straw. Most of them looked at him as if he was from another planet. Their clothes were black, black and black. Did no one in law school know what colour was? Yes he was wearing black jeans, but his top was brightly coloured and more than a little bit sexy. He’d paired the outfit with some designer sunglasses, a gift to himself to celebrate his reunion with his credit card, and a pair high heeled ankle boots that laced up at the front. His fashion sense was just wasted on these clever folk.

He sighed dramatically and glanced up at the doors. He was absolutely not lost. It was just… nothing was very clearly marked. Perhaps that’s why you needed all the extra tests to get into law school, even getting to class was a fucking exam.

“Are you alright?” A deep gruff voice asked. “You look lost.”

Jaskier spun around and peered over the top of his sunglasses. His jaw dropped. The man in front of him was fucking gorgeous. He had the most beautiful silver hair that was pulled into a bun, revealing a sneaky undercut on either side of his head. He was wearing a black turtle neck that was a tad too tight and stretched over hidden muscles, and on his face were a pair of thick black rimmed glasses. It shouldn’t have been so sexy but holy mother of fuck. Even the ratty old tweed jacket looked good on him.

“Lost in your eyes maybe,” Jaskier winked and bit his lips.

“Hmm.”

And then he turned and walked away. Jaskier pouted. The man must be straight. There wasn’t even a blush on his face, either that or Jaskier was losing him game.

Nah. It wasn’t that. He looked fucking hot and he knew it.

Jaskier hurried after him and placed a hand on his arm. “Wait! No. I’m sorry. I am lost, like actually lost and not just in your eyes, although can I just say,” he gestured to the man’s body. “Wow. What colour are your eyes? Yellow, no golden… doesn’t matter. They are gorgeous.”

The man raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m Jaskier by the way. Jaskier Pankratz.” He held his hand out to shake but the man ignored it so he ran his fingers through his hair instead.

“What class?”

“Oh umm, excellent question,” Jaskier stuck out his tongue and he dug through his pockets for his schedule. It was already coffee stained and torn in the corner but who gives a shit. “Professor Stregobor?”

The man let out a weary sigh and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Fuck.”

Jaskier tilted his head and put his free hand on his hip as he sipped his coffee. “Why ‘fuck’?”

“You’re not going to last two minutes. Follow me.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. What was that supposed to mean? “Oh hang on!”

“Follow me.”

Jaskier’s jaw snapped shut. He hadn’t even made it to class yet and he was starting to regret everything.

_______________

“Come on…” Jaskier drawled as he rest his chin on his hands. The table was sticky and covered in beer but he ignored it. He had a job to do. He jutted out his bottom lip and widened his eyes at Chireadan.

Chireadan like everyone else in this damned party was dressed casually in a rather lovely blue jumper and chinos. Jaskier, who had been invited to the party by one Yennefer Vengerberg, was wearing a black corset, fishnet tights and a ridiculous pair of bunny ears. He should have known better than to trust Yennefer. She was fucking gorgeous and a phenomenal lawyer but she had taken a dislike to him. It was shame. He was pretty certain that under different circumstances they could have been friends. She was just ambitious and did not hesitate to trample on others to get what she wanted. He respected that.

It just had a few unpleasant side effects. Like turning up to a non-costume party dressed as a playboy bunny. At least he looked cute.

“No, no. Out of the question!” Chireadan said in his adorable little accent. It was what had drawn Jaskier to him in the first place. “I’m just not interested anymore.”

Jaskier let out a soft whine and batted his eyelids. “But I need you, you’re my muse!”

“Well you’ll have to find a new one. I’m done being fodder for your terrible songs.”

And like that the spell was broken. Jaskier gasped and sat back in his chair. “I. You. What?!” He shrieked.

“It was just one love song after another, and none of them even made sense? Do you even know how to rhyme? And we’re not even in love.” Chireadan huffed. “I want a girlfriend and I can’t do that with you trailing after me acting like a lovesick puppy. No. Julian. We are done.”

“Oh no. We are not done because you say so. We are done because you are a terrible muse with fucking awful taste in music. I cannot believe I wasted years on you!” Jaskier snapped. “I was just trying to repay you for saving my life but you. you.. ungrateful swine!”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I’m a musician! I’m allowed to be dramatic!” He yelled and stood up, kicking the chair out from underneath him. “Yennefer Vengerberg will never love you. You’re wasting your time.”

“I know,” Chireadan sighed wistfully. “but I love her.”

Jaskier scoffed and fled the house. His pride was wounded. Not only had Stregobor called him a talentless fool who would never succeed in court, his muse, his precious muse had insulted his songs. He was fucking done with it all. He should never have come here.

His eyes stung and his throat ached as he bit back a sob. “Fuck!”

He shivered just as a heavy coat dropped around his shoulders. He touched the fabric in the dark; tweed. He smiled into his lap; Geralt. He felt Geralt sit next to him silently and he rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder.

“I spoke to Yen,” Geralt said in a low whisper. “I’d like to say she’s sorry for the costume joke.”

Jaskier chuckled. “Of course she’s not.”

“No.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier sighed dramatically as he looked up at the stars. “What am I doing here, Geralt? I’m a musician, not a lawyer, and apparently I can’t even do that right.”

“What? Who said that?”

“Chireadan,” he whined.

“He knows fuck all,” Geralt growled.

Jaskier sat up and stared at Geralt in disbelief. “Does this mean you like my music, Geralt?” Geralt scowled and refused to meet his gaze. “Oh come on, I’m having a shit night. Humour me?”

“I like your music.”

“What do you like about it, three words or less?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt groaned.

“Please!”

“It’s catchy.” A pause. “And I like your voice.”

Jaskier swallowed as he tried to remind himself how to breathe. He was certain it was the booze and Geralt actually being nice to him for a change but he suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss him. He cupped Geralt’s face, turning it gently so he was looking at Jaskier. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt’s eyes flickered down to Jaskier’s lips. There was no mistaking that and even in the dark Jaskier was pretty sure he could see a blush on Geralt’s cheeks. He was fairly certain that if Geralt didn’t kiss him now, he might die. He licked his lips and tilted his head at his friend. “Geralt?” He asked quietly.

Geralt hummed, the ever present scowl on his forehead deepening. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me?”

And he did. Then he did it again, and again, until Jaskier had forgotten all the sadness in his heart because all that mattered were Geralt’s lips against his. __________ Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67

[janedoe-eyes]

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 -  I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while  she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered  this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked  to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received  another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her  with  concern. Marinette  smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik -  just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught  the plate  for a  second time when  a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your  little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming  suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows  the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop  in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude  comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled  in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled  together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck  her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

*******************************************************************************

Turns out -  easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by  a man a few years older than him who looked as if  death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it  be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile  strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to  moving  over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted  to go over and demand to know what he could  possibly say   having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’,  and ‘Damian’. She walked  up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

*******************************************************************************************

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it  off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

*******************************************************************************************

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who  had recently left a warehouse that  belonged to  the Penguin. Red Hood stationed  across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable  fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks  your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s  my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried  to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed  kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had  versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the  Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found  an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A  familiar itch on the back of his neck told  him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance.  A dented trash lid resting nearby.  The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped  a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and  sidestepped  the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a  spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have  one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell  from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered  his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning  sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for  it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished  with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared   where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled  over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight  and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are  a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette withdrew following  the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The  Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled  her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook  his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember  Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid  over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming  in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached  to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood  and looked  around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came  from, Marinette stopped  short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw  her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk  to  a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone  young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely  glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait  for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased  once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped  up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest  after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

*******************************************************************************************

That night, Marinette seriously considered  donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had  lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for  a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense  - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help  watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over  years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she���d glared  at in passing for weeks.

Marinette  took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked  the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it  - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive  here?! What names did the barista say  at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush  ahead after the warning Plagg gave  - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The  man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette  whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he  let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said,  nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in  another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when  I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging  a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned  to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing  to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet  and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve  the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might  still be  time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed  to snuggle  the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound  as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and  I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from  the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

*******************************************************************************************

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what  happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger  knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked  in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered  at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all  wary of her but eventually  eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

*******************************************************************************************

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located  on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on  every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting  a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled  on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on  the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held  her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French  how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned  what  transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of  the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once  entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some  all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized  everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he  slumped down,  head in his hands,  absorbing  the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find  her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable  ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing  his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii  of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled  her  expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re  a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed  before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed  from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned  to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely  inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is  gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see  you do. You’ve  endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He  needed more practice at  learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build  a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run  the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve  his Father and siblings  - they’d know how to execute a plan  - but he felt it had to come  at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts  in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

*******************************************************************************************

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell  in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which  opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team -  especially Robin, who became  her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people  from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the  Ladybug miraculous  traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it  remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag  a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others  commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance  took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news,  the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was  in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got  along even better than  their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting  smile, she quickly gained the  nickname  ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently  on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which  can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

*******************************************************************************************

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic

[witcherslittledove]

Time is Running Out

Joey Batey/Henry Cavill

Rated E

Summary: Henry goes to see if Joey is ready for the premiere.

CW: Somnophilia, dub con (see somnophilia), Joey in a Dress, masturbation, hand jobs

Also on AO3 and written with the help of @jaskiertheflowertwink

_______

“Joey?” Henry knocked on the door of his cast mate’s hotel room. The premiere was starting in just over an hour and the younger man said he was going for a nap almost two hours ago. No one had seen him since and Henry was beginning to worry. He’d noticed Joey got easily overwhelmed by that part of acting and honestly he couldn’t blame him. It was hard, the screaming, the cameras flashing, the autographs, rewarding but utterly exhausting, and Joey wasn’t used to it.

 There was no response from the other side of the door and Henry frowned, staring at the wood as if it would suddenly respond. It didn’t. Henry sighed and tested the handle of the door. It gave way and the door drifted open.

 “Joey?” Henry called again before stepping inside the room.

 His breath hitched in his throat as he saw the sight before him. Joey was lying on the bed, sprawled out on his back, head lolling to one side. But the thing that really caught his attention was Joey’s attire. He was wearing a teal silk night dress with black lacing around the bust and hemline.

 “Jesus Christ, Joey…” Henry breathed, letting his gaze roam over the well-toned muscles that were usually hidden underneath Jaskier’s puffy outfits. Thick dark hair covered Joey’s chest, arms and legs, and despite the delicate silk dress he oozed masculinity in a way that Henry hadn’t thought was possible. His mouth felt dry and he felt the stirrings of arousal, hot and heady.

 Joey snorted in his sleep, his leg kicking off the edge of the duvet. The movement made the hem of his dress shift upwards over his hips, revealing his soft cock.

 Henry knew he should but he couldn’t look away. His cast mate had always been attractive, those pretty blue eyes that pierced your soul and a voice of an angel, but watching Joey, silk adorned and sleeping, it awoke something deep in Henry.

 And he’d suddenly never wanted anything more.

 Henry crossed the room before he could change his mind, pulling up the thin strap that had fallen down Joey’s arms, tantalising and so fucking sexy. He made a valiant effort not to look at Joey’s cock but he was weak. His gaze kept drifting down before snapping back up to look at Joey’s face, admiring the soft bristles of stubble that covered the younger man’s cheeks. His fringe was falling into his eyes so Henry reached out to brush it away.

 “Henry…” Joey murmured, rolling over so he was facing Henry.

 Time seemed to still. Henry’s cock was hard and straining against his trousers, and he groaned. He’d only come into Joey’s room to make sure he was going to be ready in time for the premiere, and now his thoughts were spiralling out of control. His fingers dug into his thighs in a herculean effort not to touch Joey, but holy fucking christ he just looked so goddamn irresistible.

 As if reading his thoughts, Joey moaned softly, fingers gripping the sheets of the bed. Henry stared wide eyed as Joey reached down to cup his balls, fingers stroking down his length.

 Henry knew he should leave.

 He knew he should leave.

 But it was impossible. He was trapped, caught in Joey’s spell. Christ, the man had to be fae or something. No one was that captivating in their sleep. Henry stroked Joey’s cheek, running his thumb along his bottom lip, and Joey let out a soft breathy moan that made Henry’s world light on fire.

 “Fuck,” he groaned, palming his own aching cock through his trousers.

 “Henry, please,” Joey gasped as he began to writhe and moan on the bed, and that was Henry’s undoing. He swore, knocking Joey’s hand away from his cock and taking it in his own hands. It had been so long since he’d been intimate with another man but it felt so natural to stroke Joey’s cock as it hardened in his hands. Henry glanced up, but Joey’s eyes were still squeezed shut and his lips were parted in a soft ‘o’. He was still asleep.

 Fuck, this really should stop but it was too late now. He was past the point of no return.

 He stroked the tip of Joey’s cock, gathering up the beads of precum on his finger. It glistened in the light of the hotel room, and Henry couldn’t resist drawing his finger into his mouth. The taste was bitter but not entirely unpleasant, and Henry thought about forgetting his hands all together and taking Joey into his mouth, but that would be harder to explain if Joey were to wake up.

 “For fuck’s sake, get a grip,” Henry muttered, willing himself to let go but Joey just keened and bucked up into his hand. His resolve crumbled underneath him and he gave in to the urges that he’d been repressing ever since his bard had first sauntered into the dingy old room for the read through.

 Henry licked his lips as his gaze roamed over Joey’s body. There was a faint blush on his cheeks that crept down his torso below the plunging neckline, partially concealed by the delicate black lace. Joey whined as Henry’s finger brushed over his slit, the sound sending a rush of pleasure through Henry’s body, heat prickling across his skin.

 “Henry,” Joey half moaned, sounding completely wrecked and blue eyes snapped open.

 Henry froze, his breath catching in his throat as their eyes met. Joey’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Henry?”

 “Shit!”

 “Am- Am I still dreaming?” Joey asked, his voice shaking and his tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

 Henry shook his head. “No, not dreaming.”

 “Oh.”

 “Yeah.”

 Joey’s eyes never left his, blue turning to almost black as his expression melted into something oh so alluring, and Henry was reminded of Jaskier, his famed sexual prowess that the show never quite explored. “Well don’t stop on my account, darling.”

 The world seemed to spin, as Henry crashed his lips against Joey’s. He’d been dreaming of this for so long, their natural chemistry spilling out onto the set. It was really no wonder that the fans had clung onto their characters. Henry himself had been disappointed when he’d heard rumours that one of the writers had pitched a kiss between Geralt and his bard that didn't make the script. He told himself it was for the best, though, convincing himself that if he could keep his distance then his feelings would disappear. It clearly hadn't worked.

 “Henry,” Joey moaned against his lips, legs wrapping around his waist and Henry suddenly felt incredibly overdressed.

 “Fuck,” he groaned, pulling back from the kiss, “the premiere.”

 “They don’t need us.”

 “I’m the leading actor, Joey,” Henry chided, but Joey just pouted up at him, looking so very angelic and yet utterly sinful.

 “They can wait, I      need     you.”

 Henry wrestled with his conscience for less than a second before groaning and shrugging off his suit jacket. “You’re a fucking menace, Joey.”

 Joey winked, biting his lips. “Oh but you love me,” he purred, his accent thickening which made Henry’s pulse race.

 “Menace,” he repeated, kissing Joey deeply before the younger man could protest.

 Joey was an enthusiastic lover, now that he was awake, and he pawed at the fastenings of Henry’s trousers, whining when he couldn’t get them undone fast enough. Henry chuckled, kissing along Joey’s jaw, sucking bruises into his neck whilst the musician’s hands worked at getting his zip undone.

 “This shouldn’t be so hard!” Joey grumbled.

 “I thought that was the point?”

 “Bastard.”

 “Brat.”

 “Shut up and kiss me.”

 And Henry did. He kissed Joey as if his life depended on it, relishing in the cute little moans that escaped his bard as his hand explored Joey’s body. The silk nightgown was so soft under his fingers and the noises, god the noises, Joey made. They were more enchanting than any song he’d ever heard, fuck if he could make an album from just these sounds… he’d never have to work again.

 Joey let out an obscene moan as he finally managed to get Henry’s cock free from his trousers. “Holy fucking mother of god, Henry,” he breathed, running his hand along the length.

 Henry thrust into Joey’s hand, a needy whine escaping his lips. “Shit!”

 “Lube, fuck, I need lube…” Joey muttered, letting go and scrambling to dig through his bag that had been dumped on the floor by the bed.

 “We don’t have time,” Henry protested weakly.

 “We don’t, and you will fuck me after this sodding premiere is over with, but I want to get you off before we go,” Joey smirked.

 And suddenly all Henry could think about was pulling that damned silk gown up to Joey’s waist and fucking him into the mattress until they both came so hard that they blacked out. But the premiere was awaiting them and Henry knew he had a job to do, they both had a job to do.

 He pulled the bottle of lube from Joey’s hands, clicking open the bottle and generously coating his fingers. His bard was right, they didn’t have much time and this would make things far more pleasurable. Henry took both their cocks in hand, stroking them roughly, capturing Joey’s lips in a blistering kiss.

 Gasping, Joey nipped at Henry’s bottom lip, “Fuck, please. I’m so close.”

 Henry had always suspected that Joey would sound just as amazing crying out in pleasure as he did singing, and he had been right. He tightened his grip, stroking faster, enjoying every gasp, every moan he managed to coax from the other man.

 He leaned down, pressing their mouths together, swallowing Joey’s moans as he felt himself growing closer. “I won’t last much longer,” his voice was rough, a growl directly into Joey’s ear.

 “Fuck, me neither. I’m so close, fuck.” Joey rolled his hips, thrusting up into Henry’s hand, gasping and panting as their cocks rubbed against each other. “Jesus Christ, Henry…”

 Henry grunted, biting Joey’s lip as his orgasm pulsed through him, spilling over his hand, his cum splattering over the soft silk nightgown that hid Joey’s body from view. His bard took over, stroking them both through the waves of pleasure until Joey followed Henry over the edge, biting down on Henry’s shoulder. The pain shot through him, only heightening the ecstasy of his orgasm, and Joey fell apart underneath him, collapsing onto the bed. He’d never looked more beautiful.

 Time was not on their side. All Henry wanted to do was hold Joey in his arms and sleep the night away but the public was waiting. He sighed and pressed his lips against Joey’s in a chaste kiss. “We need to get ready.”

 Joey whined. “I really don’t want to.”

 “I know, me neither,” Henry sighed, “but the quicker we go, the quicker we can pick up where we left off?”

 “Oh yeah?” Joey smirked, his fingers stroking down Henry’s shirt, playing with the buttons.

 “Yes,” Henry all but growled and pulled Joey into another kiss.

 They were late to the premiere, but no one dared to question why.

[pondermoniums]

A little post season 3 ficlet (2749 words) featuring some holiday fluff <3 See tags or read on ao3 here ~

• • • •

Billy still feels it. He wishes his muscle memory had died with him, but it just came back with him too.

The things he felt.

The things It felt.

Everything It made him do.

His psychiatrist tries to tell him that his scars are his body claiming his soul back. Billy couldn’t agree. He didn’t like touching the starbursts on his torso because the shiny scar flesh felt tissue-paper thin—not to his fingertips, but underneath. His heart trembled as if he could just push a little too hard, and enter his ribs—

“Hey, the new place opened up off Main Street. You know those new roads they’re building? There’s already a Greek place there. Let’s get a menu.”

Billy frowned at him. Steve Harrington. He’d been at the mall. Billy didn’t remember seeing him…during…but afterward. In the spotty shreds of memory that were all his own, he remembered Steve looking nearly as bad as he felt. The memories swirled together like a circus dream. Steve and…Robin. Her name is Robin…in striped costumes. Steve carried Max away from his body. Robin practically did the same for the girl with a number for a name. All of them glowed with Starcourt neon pink and purple and red.

Steve’s car hummed around them, and fell silent when he turned onto the fresh asphalt of Hawkins’ new road. Steve laughed a little. “Farmer Higgins is probably still fuming. Last thing the mayor did before he got booted out of here was steal land for these businesses.”

“What’s it matter?” Billy exhaled. There were less people in Hawkins to fuel the shady economy anyway.

“Well I can’t speak for your Camaro, but my car doesn’t last long, driving brodies with trees in the way.”

His little sapphire. A dark mixture of humor and apathy seeped into his blood at the memory of Steve Harrington, of all people, slamming into him. He didn��t do it hard enough.

Now he sat in the car Steve drove. Not because the Camaro couldn’t be fixed, but because Billy wasn’t fit to drive yet. Maybe there was something full-circle about it. Or a broken circle; an open-ended thing, like Billy.

“As if you could do a brody.”

Steve smirked. “Thankfully I’ve ruined enough fields for practice.”

And then he pulled right off the road, slipped through a tiny thicket of trees framing the road, and burst upon a dry, yellow field. He turned sharply, throwing Billy against him…until the car locked into a paradox of calm and chaos. The back wheels revolved around them to dig a doughnut in the earth. Steve let the wheel go, and they rocked as the car jerked with the front tires straightening.

Steve looked around them to find the road again and made a mock sound of getting sick. “Glad we didn’t eat first.”

He grinned at Billy, making him realize a smile had stuck on his face like a cramped muscle. He pushed a hand over his mouth, physically melting it off.

The food was good. The flavors shoved their way over his pallet. It was kind of hard to enjoy food now. He ate when his body needed it but he didn’t get the emotional reaction to it—

“I didn’t know we had Greeks in Hawkins,” Steve conversed openly. A small, lost part of Billy remembered Steve calling him out for being mouthy during basketball, but Steve could talk. He wiped his mouth and dug back into his rice plate. “Then again, Robin and Dustin always have something to say about authenticity. Like you spend a day outside of Indiana and you’re worldly.”

“Did you forget where I’m from?” Billy spoke before he meant to. California didn’t seem to matter much any—

“Did you?” Steve tossed back.

Silence fell over their booth while Steve waited. Then he went back to his food when Billy clearly didn’t care about responding.

Over and over again.

Steve picked Billy up.

Hospital.

Food.

Back to Cherry Lane.

Steve talked. Sometimes Billy replied.

Then things began to change. Steve took Billy to the grocery store after Billy’s therapy. Billy had emerged ruddy-eyed liked he smoked a pound of weed, and Steve had merely said, “I’m feeling tacos.”

Only instead of a restaurant, he took them to the store. And then the Harrington house. Billy talked more there.

“No, no, it’s queso fresco.”

“It’s just cheese, though?”

“Jesus, it’s like I’m the one who grew up with farmers. Different rain waters different grass. That makes different cows, which make different milk. Do you know anything about breweries?”

“Do you?” Steve challenged while they made a mess of his kitchen counter. Crumbles of white cheese, lettuce, and other tacos toppings littered the fancy granite.

“I know that breweries stay put. Because the water’s different. They have to have the right water to make the right beer. I haven’t had my favorite lager since I moved here.”

“What’s it taste like?”

Billy told him. Billy told him a lot of things. Steve just…got a rise out of him the way his therapist couldn’t. Then again, Steve never asked about all the things Billy wanted to burn out of his brain.

Then Cherry Lane fell off the list. Billy couldn’t say how exactly he moved into Harrington’s house. Maybe the food flowed into Billy falling asleep, and starting the next day from Steve’s house just happened too many times. Maybe Max used Steve’s pool too many times. Maybe it was when Billy realized Steve wasn’t just driving him to his physical and mental therapy sessions.

He walked out of the physical therapy gym at the back of the hospital to meet Steve in the same lobby they parted ways in. But Steve wasn’t there. Billy asked the nearby receptionist if “the guy with the hair” had gotten lost to the bathroom, but she only replied, “He’s running a little overtime, but he should be on his way.”

Billy’s appointments took hours. It made sense for Steve to leave and come back—

But the elevator dinged, and Steve was too busy reading something to not walk into a passing nurse. “Oh! Ow—sorry! Sorry,” he exclaimed, holding his arm…

He rolled the shoulder of that arm on the way through the parking lot, swinging the arm round and around like he was warming up for tennis. Inside the car, Billy cornered, “What were you doing in there?”

Steve glanced at him but shrugged as he turned the ignition. “Blood work. An IV drip. MRI’s. My usual stuff. The drip took longer this time.”

“Usual stuff? How come I’m just now hearing of this?”

“Remember, Robin used to meet us here? She got cleared faster.”

“Cleared out of what? How are you more broken than she was?”

Steve stared at him for an unnerving minute. “They…kind of beat the shit out of me. So… I mean, you pack a wallop, but Russians with an agenda put you to shame.”

Billy suddenly wondered if he’d overstepped a boundary. Steve just talked so much, and took whatever Billy gave him without flinching that he never considered…

“Getting concussed and doped up with unknown chemicals isn’t everyone’s normal Thursday.”

Billy had forgotten that Steve had been through shit like this before. Not with the same variables, but… “I forget that your normal got thrown out the window before I got here.”

“It’s not a competition,” Steve tried to say lightly. He waved a hand in front of the vents as if their lingering in the parking lot was just to wait for the heating to kick on.

“And if it is, who’d win?”

“Oh, I think Will Byers has us beat.”

That…hit differently than Billy expected. A laugh burst out of him, like it had just been waiting for a weight to lift off of him to break free. “Yeah. Maybe he does.”

Then they went to Steve’s house, where more and more of Billy’s clothes had accumulated. The kitchen had been stocked with food bought from Steve’s wage and Billy’s top-secret government allowance—which turns out, was rather high. Steve, for all his fancy furniture and basically bottomless bank account thanks to his parents, had to pick his jaw up off the floor when Billy finally revealed the monthly check to him.

“Holy shit. Don’t let the nerds see that; they’ll siphon quarters out of you for the arcade.”

“They’re old enough to want beer and condoms.”

Steve scoffed as he flipped their dinner pancakes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think they’ll sooner pop their cherries than go for beer.” Then he grimaced and waved his spatula. “New subject! Change the subject.”

Billy laughed from the breakfast bar, where he was arranging his medication into a days-of-the-week organizer. It was just a bar of little snap-closed boxes, but it helped him keep track of the pills he took—and the ones he ignored.

Steve had asked him once, “Why do you always leave the red ones?”

“They turn me into a vegetable.”

“Oh. You can’t, like…split it in half? Half vegetable?”

Billy couldn’t say why he felt comforted by Steve’s uniquely clueless way of thinking. Perhaps the guy actually made sense, or maybe he just over-simplified things in an over-complicated world.

Now, though, he set the spatula down with the announcement, “Oh! I got you something. Well, I hope I got the right stuff.”

Billy didn’t go with him to the garage, but he did follow Steve with his eyes. Blue irises locked onto the shockingly familiar box of lager when Steve returned. “Where in the hell did you find that?”

That dopey, thrilled grin made Steve glow like the Christmas lights they’d thrown all over the open floor plan. “Dude, there are professional shoppers! I mean, that makes each can like…a twenty-dollar beer, and this is the only box I got, but this is the stuff you were talking about, right? The lady on the phone said they released other flavors, but you only said ‘lager,’ so it’s what I got.”

The cans were practically frozen from being in the garage, but Billy tore open the box as well as he could to pry one out. “I don’t think I’ve been given the okay for alcohol.”

“We can water it down.”

“You don’t water down beer!”

“Then split one with me. I’ve chilled glasses somewhere…”

He went digging in the freezer drawer and pulled out plastic wine glasses. Billy snorted as he accepted one. “This is so cheap.”

“Yeah well, even mom’s fancy bimbo friends break wine stems around the pool. Gimme that.”

Billy appreciated that Steve made it sound greedy, instead of pitiful. Billy had trouble with his hands.

The can snapped open with a satisfying metallic crack. Billy teased as Steve poured, “Is this your first rodeo? Look at all that foam.”

“We’ve got time. The pancakes are almost done.”

Billy pushed his pill organizer aside to rest his chin on his arms, listening to carbonation sizzle while he watched Steve’s shoulder blades move under his sweatshirt.

“When do you get cleared for pot?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be officially cleared for that—hey, hey!”

Steve had turned around, leaning back against the counter with a pancake in his hand and a full cheek. “Whuh?”

“You’re eating my dinner! Dump the skillet over a plate and get over here!”

Steve came around to sit on the stool next to him with a pancake in his mouth and—

“Are those my slippers?”

“You mean my slippers that I hadn’t worn yet? Yeah, I took them back,” Steve retorted.

Billy successfully knocked one off his foot. “They still had the tags when I got to them. So dibs.”

Steve kicked the other slipper into the living room. “No dibs if you don’t have both.”

“You’re wearing my sweatpants. I get your slippers.”

“I get your beer and you get my pancakes.”

“Not if you eat all of them! Syrup, now,” Billy demanded with a grabby hand gesture.

Steve disintegrated into giggles that made him sound as much like a little kid as movie heartthrob. He finished pouring and passed the bottle.

So it went. Back and forth. Back and forth.

First Steve took Billy’s time. The minutes that built into hours driving to and from the hospital. Then Billy ate his food. Steve covered the restaurant tabs until they switched to cooking at his house. Steve washed his clothes and wore them like his own. Billy took Steve’s car keys and drove for the first time with Steve practically hostage all the way to the tree farm.

“I didn’t take you for a real tree kind of person.”

“You have the ceiling space for a nine-foot tree.”

“How the hell are we hauling a nine-foot tree?” Steve practically blanched. “And with what car?” He adjusted his earmuffs because he’d rather be caught dead than wear a proper hat. Billy, meanwhile, strolled through the greenery and the first snowflakes spitting from the sky with leisurely ease in his beanie.

He laughed, “I like how you’re not saying no.”

Steve didn’t do much to hide his mimicry as he trudged behind Billy, who chuckled to himself. “For once it actually smells nice. The trees really cover up the cow shit of—oh my god, there are actual cows.”

A line of tables displayed other living decorations like wreaths and garlands, but beyond them was a field of black and red cattle. Billy moved under a line of wreaths hanging over their heads to see how they actually had blankets on their backs. “Are the cow jackets norm—”

Steve caught his mouth in a quick, firm kiss. The sound of their lips parting echoed in Billy’s ears. Steve’s fingers lifted off his jaw to touch something noisy above their heads. Billy dumbly looked up to see the tiny bells interwoven with a mistletoe wreath. “Careful. We have real mistletoe here. Not whatever plastic California has.”

He left Billy stupefied, having the audacity to stroll away with a whistle on his lips before Billy snapped out of it and nearly tackled him. “OW! Agh, fu-shit, Jesus—”

“You’re better about planting your feet,” Billy breathed against Steve’s earmuff. He held Steve’s arms trapped against his body.

“Are you always this mean when someone kisses you?” he strained in Billy’s tight grip. The gravel under their boots grit and rattled as Billy dragged Steve deeper into the trees. “Alright! I should’ve asked! I’m sorry—”

Steve might’ve stolen the first kiss, but Billy shoved him into a tree and took it back. He took Steve’s cold shock against his lips, until hot breath warmed them up between nervous stares. Then Billy took his lips, his tongue, the taste of the mint brownies Steve ate on the way here. The cold tip of Steve’s nose pushed into his cheek, and Billy’s heart felt fragile against the softness of Steve’s mouth.

His breath trembled as he asked, “Why did you do that?”

Why do you give me rides? Give me food? Why do you cook every night? Why did you give me a bedroom? Will you let me into yours?

Steve’s arms around his waist moved, tightening a little but also moving up Billy’s spine as if to comfort him. To anchor them together. Steve swallowed, and the fragility in his eyes made Billy’s throat hurt. “I didn’t get to the first time.”

Billy couldn’t stand it. He pushed Steve’s earmuffs off in his effort to press his face against Steve’s neck. To absorb the delicious little sound that escaped him when Billy’s cold nose found the warm pocket inside his collar.

Billy didn’t think he’d be able to kiss anyone ever again.

Not after…

But all he wanted was to keep Steve’s lips on him. To steal him away like some fairytale winter troll and either keep him or devour him if he tried to leave.

“Billy?” His name was muffled against his own scarf, so tightly did Steve hold onto him.

But if Steve was taking…maybe Billy could let himself be stolen again.

“When we’re home…” he sniffled on his way back up to standing on his own. “Kiss me again.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

Billy laughed through his tears. “No, you’re buying me the biggest tree your car can carry. And I’ll steal that wreath while they’re distracted.”

“You have the money to buy it!”

“That’s no fun.”

[jojo-fantasy-aus]

Fantasy au!

Josuke x F! Reader- Ch 2.

It takes Two.

Quick TW for creepy, handsy old men.

If trying to find all the parts on Tumblr isn't your thing, you can also find my story under the name "It takes two" on AO3!

(All of my MK works from my @dinogoofy account will be posted on A03 shortly as well!)

   Your eyes fluttered open, greeted by the awful sight of the sewer walls. Great. You were hoping that all of this had been an awful nightmare. The crook in your neck was a reminder of the unnatural position you fell asleep in. You went to run a hand through your hair as you tried to shake off the groggy early-morning feeling, but a flash of fear coursed through you when your hand got caught on someone's arm.

   "I'm glad you're awake. I was starting to get worried." You jumped at the Masculine voice, relief washing over you in a cool wave when you realized it was just Josuke. He was still sitting where he was when you fell asleep last night, and you tried not to blush when you finally processed that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. His blue eyes looked tired, and you knew you probably did too. You mumbled an apology before sitting up straight and stretching your arms, Josuke following suit. 

   The silence was almost overwhelming, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak up. Everything just felt, numb. Like you were drained of all emotions exempt exhaustion.

   You watched as Josuke stood up and started to walk back to the grate.

   "Ya'know, I don't think you ever told me your name." The words caught you off guard, laughing at yourself for managing to forget something so simple as a proper introduction. You gave him your name as he looked through the grate.

   "It looks like it's around noon, if you were curious." Noon? Holy shit! How long had he been waiting for you to wake up? 

   "Sorry about falling asleep on you." -was all you could think to say. Josuke smiled, walking back and holding out a hand to help you up. You took it gently out of habit, after everything that had just happened, you couldn't care less about being ladylike.

   It was infuriatingly hard not to notice how muscular he was as he pulled you up.  Once you were good and standing you couldn't help but wonder where to go from here. Where to even start looking. Neither of you even had a good picture of exactly everything that went down last night exempt from what Josuke had seen. You two had drifted back towards the grate when you spoke up.

   "Any idea where to start?" Josuke seemed to think about it for a second as he climbed the latter and pushed the grate back open.

   "I have a few friends that work in a tavern nearby. They tend to overhear a lot, so I thought we might as well start there." A tavern. You hadn't been to one of those in years. You never traveled much on the vacations and off-days the palace gave you, so you weren't quite sure how to feel about it. All palace gossip about them always pointed out the rowdy undisciplined adventures that gather in them, but surely they wouldn't be that bad? You had become a "rowdy adventure" yourself now, hadn't you? 

   The thought made you smile, never in a million years would you ever expect to be doing something like this. Work has always been the forefront of your personality, wanting to provide for your family and your future above all else. Only when you were a kid did you ever even dream of being an adventurer. Josuke called your name.

   "You coming?" He had already made it out of the grate while you were caught up in your own thoughts, waiting patiently for you at the edge.

   "Yeah, sorry. I was...thinking."

   The brisk walk to the Tavern revealed all sorts of horror. You didn't quite realize that Josuke had dragged you back into town yesterday until you left the alleyway. You and Josuke wandered near the palace gardens, where the tents had been, to try and figure out what started the panic.

   It was horrible, blood splatter on the fountains, guards everywhere. Tents torn and trampled, the beautiful gazebo broken and bloody. Nearby was a single wheelbarrow filled with… with bodies. Bodies that wore palace uniforms. You couldn't bring yourself to look any longer.

   Josuke's face was steely and angered, posture tense. He was definitely handling the situation differently than you were. A flash of anger and shame bubbled up in your chest the more you thought about yesterday. You wish he would've stopped to grab Koichi, or the princess, instead of you. He could've saved them if he tried. It wouldn't matter if you were dead or kidnapped, at least they would've been safe. you pushed the feelings back down. Josuke was probably still ashamed, you couldn't blame this on him. 

   You felt useless looking at all this devastation, and felt even more so when you started to tear up.

   "Josuke, can we leave?" Your broken whisper cut through the dead silent air, Josuke looking back at you, face shifting into a softer, kinder look. You must've looked pitiful to evoke that kind of reaction, and you hated it. You hated feeling weak.

   "Yeah," 

   As you and Josuke started to leave, you noticed a crowd had gathered to gawk at the destruction. A paperboy walked over to the guards doing cleanup, talking briefly before taking out his bell.

   "The king is alive! This king is alive! Princess Yukako yet to be found! Find your family and pray!" The crowd started whispering to each other, and as more people added to the mass it became harder to push through them to get out. You almost lost Josuke in the fray, but once you pushed through and into the empty street he was right there waiting for you.

   "Are you ok?" You looked at him in confusion, and only realized why he was asking when you felt the tears sliding down your face. 

   "I'm fine." He clearly didn't believe you, but he didn't say anything as you wiped your tears. 

   Before long Josuke was leading you down endless streets, taking twists and turns that you had forgotten after being cooped up working in the palace for so long. All of it started to feel so nostalgic. A familiar sign here, an old residential street there, it was nice to be back where you started. 

   That's how the journey started anyway, the closer you got to this Tavern the more people started to recognize Josuke, and by people, you mean women. One after another would run up to him and say hello, ignoring your presence all together. Every time that happened he had to shoo them off with some excuse. You couldn't imagine being that popular with the opposite sex. 

   You scoffed at one particular woman who shot you a nasty glare as Josuke got her off his tail. Josuke was handsome, sure, but these women were getting ridiculous.

   "Sorry about that. It's like they follow me everywhere." Josuke said, exasperated.

   "It's fine," you lied, they were getting annoying. "You seem to be quite the ladies man."

   Josuke chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

   "Well, I can't say I know why," That had to be a lie. He had to have some sort of idea of how good-looking he was right? You two only walked in silence about a minute longer when Josuke stopped.

   "Ah, here it is!" The sign above the door read 'Tonio's Tavern,'. It was a rather nice, expensive looking tavern that was so loud on the inside that you could hear it from the street. It was even more architecturally beautiful on the inside, and you gawked as Josuke held the door open for you. This place was so beautiful you could hardly believe it was an average tavern.

   Josuke led you over to the bar, waving a man down as soon as he left the kitchen. He instantly smiled, waving before setting a few plates down. He pinched the ear of a different, sleeping man before heading over to the two of you. Waking the scarred, grey-haired man, who complained at him before smiling excitedly when his eyes set on Josuke. You were just sitting down as they both made it over to you.

   "Josuke! It's good to see you, friend" the taller one said, foreign accent thick. Josuke smiled, about to answer when the grey-haired man almost tackled him into a hug. 

   "Josuke! It's been so long!" Josuke pushed him off, definitely happy to see the guy but more concerned with his hair.

   "It's only been a day or two Okuyasu," They seemed to be such good friends, that you found yourself to be smiling at the "reunion" as well. This was the first time you think you've seen Josuke this happy. 

   After they had all calmed down, Josuke introduced the tall man to be Tonio, the owner of the restaurant, and the other to be Okuyasu, Josuke and Koichi's best Friend, who was a mercenary working as security for Tonio's tavern. Both of them were eager to meet you, and only Okuyasu became a little flighty when Josuke mentioned your connection to Yukako. Josuke was in the middle of a sentence when he quickly realized that maybe he shouldn't be talking about this rescue attempt amongst the hustle and bustle of the tavern's lunch hour. Josuke called your name.

   "Hey, Okuyasu and I gotta head to the back to discuss. Are you gonna be ok alone?" 

   "I'll be fine," you were tired, but you weren't completely defenseless. Josuke seemed to understand and made sure to order you some food before he left.

   "You really don't need to do that," Josuke didn't really give you a choice, giving you a knowing look as your stomach rumbled frustratingly on cue, whispering something to Tonio about the food. The distrustful part of you hoped he wasn't going to poison the food. Tonio came back with your food shortly after Josuke and Okuyasu disappeared.

   "Just call if you need anything, bella." The words rolled off his tongue as he set the plate down. You nodded, thanking him with a smile. Once you started eating you found out very quickly why this place was so busy. It was delicious, the dish was just as foreign to you as Tonio's accent, and yet still so amazing. 

   You were thoroughly enjoying your lunch when a stranger sat down on the barstool closest to you. Immediately your skin prickled, stomach turning as you realized just how many stools were still unoccupied. It was uncomfortable to say the least that this man had sat right next to you on purpose. 

   "Hey girlie, what are you doing here all alone?" His voice was so gruff and scratchy that it almost made you feel sick. 

   Just ignore him, you said to yourself, you have to ignore him.

   "Hey, I was talking to you, bitch." He snarled, pulling your plate away from you. What could you do? Your eyes fluttered around the room nervously, keeping your head down so that the man could see you looking for help. Damn, Tonio, Josuke, Okuyasu, none of them were in sight. You felt like an idiot for staying put, but you were a grown woman. You could defend yourself if you needed to. 

   "Are ya deaf or what? I'll show you what happens when you ignore me!" The screeching of the stool against the floor made you flinch. Finally looking up, wide-eyed as you stared at the man. He smirked when you did.

   "Oh, so ya can hear ya nasty bitch," He sneered, his voice had started to raise, and before you knew it all eyes in the tavern were on you. He raised his hand to hit you when a figure approached him from behind, grabbing his arm.

   "Just what the hell are you doing?" Josuke stared him down with a calm intensity, Okuyasu on his heels, looking the same way. The man snatched his arm back with a scowl, massaging it like a wounded dog.

   "And who do you think you are? You two punks should stay out of a man's business." Josuke was clearly holding himself back, Okuyasu not doing much better as the man screamed in their faces. Something on his shoulder when he was turned caught your eye. It was a tattoo. A tattoo with a curling insignia, thorns and words you couldn't read taking over the expanse of it. You got a flash of the one you saw last night clear as day in your mind. You looked up at Josuke in a panic, mouthing the words to him the moment you caught his eye.

   The insignia,

   Josuke smirked, but his eyes looked dangerous. The man started to tremble once he realized he couldn't intimidate the pair. 

   Okuyasu grabbed him first, grabbing onto the back of his collar and dragging him out the side door and into the alley. Josuke followed right behind. The crowd gawked and stared, and you started to sweat. There was no way you were going to stay here. You followed your friends out the door.

   When you made it out and closed the door, Okuyasu had already started roughing the guy up. He definitely fit the build of a mercenary, and he got the guy taking in no time. Josuke stood in front of you, whether to block the scene or be defensive of you,  you didn't know.

   "L-look! Ya ain't getting anything out of me!" Another punch landed on his face. He groaned in pain, but continued to blabber.

   "That stupid shorty and the royal bitch are g-gonna be dead! Ya hear me! You can't do shit-" Okuyasu slapped him this time, groaning and turning to Josuke.

   "Really think this guy is worth it?" 

   "Yeah, as soon as we can get him to talk anyway." Josuke stalked over to the guy, leaning down to get in his face.

   "Okuyasu, which ball should we remove first, the right, or left." Josuke smirked wide as the man gulped in fear. You had no doubt they were bluffing, but he sure as hell didn't.

   "Ok! Ok! I'll tell ya how to find them, just don't touch my balls!" Josuke stood up straight, waltzing back over to you. 

   "Go talk to Tonio about renting a room, yeah? I have a feeling we're gonna be here a while."

   Renting a room at Tonio's was cheaper than you expected it to be, but you still had to split the coin for it with Josuke. You didn't care about the coin anyway really, it was the fact that he only had one room up for rental that night.

   Even if you stopped caring if your actions and the way you dressed were unladylike, the fact still remained that an unrelated man and woman sharing a room together out of wedlock was… unseemly, in the public's opinion. You yourself tried not to judge anyone's actions, but the thought of the women courting Josuke finding out made you shudder. You weren't worried about Josuke pulling any tricks, he was growing on you the more you were around him. 

   Tonio's rental rooms were quite pleasant, that you couldn't deny. With a large central bed, a couch, and a bell for tavern room service, this place was definitely targeted towards nobles. Tonio had even laid out some medical supplies just in case you and josuke were hurt.

   It didn't really make sense to you though, Tonio apparently knew of Josuke's healing abilities, wouldn't he know Josuke could heal himself? ... He could, couldn't he…?

   You gingerly pressed your thumb into the grooves of a jeweled flower necklace that you had forgotten you had. Tonio had given you and Josuke some clothes for the night, and when you changed much earlier you had found the necklace in your pocket. It was a gift from Yukako, and you had meant to put it on before you left for the festival. You must've shoved it in your skirt pocket as you rushed out the door. You had been fiddling with it for a while now as you observed the street from the second story window, relaxing on the rugged Camelback couch.

   You spotted Josuke from the corner of your eye, entering the room looking a bit disheveled. He definitely seemed exhausted.

   You gave him a slight wave that he returned with a smile, walking over to the bed where his clothes were laid out. His smile made your chest flutter a bit, and your stomach feel strange. You passed it off, you refused to fawn over someone so easily.

   You were pointed toward the window still, but you would be a fool if you couldn't tell he was changing behind you. He had tugged off his chain mail some time ago, when you had first rented the room, but now had started taking off his shirt.

   "Do you have to do that, here?" You say, immediately stiffening up and desperately keeping your eyes on the flower. Josuke chuckled.

   "You seem much too proper to look, Miss lady-in-waiting, so I don't really mind." You scoffed, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself in-check. Your face was quite red already, you knew, and you glanced up at the window to direct your attention at the men putting out the lanterns below.

   Unfortunately, with darkness afoot and lanterns burning bright in the room, all you could see was Josuke's taut muscled back in the reflection of the mirror. 

   You were more concerned than aroused when you noticed the cut across his back.

   "Josuke!" You called, turning around in your seat. He looked back at you, chest still full on display, making it a bit hard to focus on scolding him.

   "What happened to your back?" He smiled nervously.

   "Ah, well… I had to help Okuyasu throw out some assholes who started a bar fight, and one got me with a glass, my healing abilities don't really work on myself… but it's fine, it's not that bad." Your eyebrows furrowed, this must be exactly why Tonio put the supplies out. It occurred to you that maybe this was a regular occurrence for Josuke. You stood up from your seat and rushed over to the bed, pulling out the alcohol and cloth. 

   "Sit." You curtly commanded as you tugged the cork out of the bottle.

   "Seriously don't worry about it, I'll-"

   "Josuke. You can't possibly be thinking about not disinfecting that."Josuke laughed as you grabbed a hold of his arm and pulled him down onto the bed, facing his back towards you as you got to work. Josuke complained dramatically a few times but he was smiling while you told him to keep still.

   The wound wasn't too deep, but it still could've gotten infected if he let it be. Josuke hissed a little as you wiped away the blood. You apologized quietly as you focused. You set the cloth down and closed the bottle back up when you finished.

   "Thank you." You blushed, mumbling a shy 'you're welcome' as he stood, flexing a bit before putting on a night shirt that fit him a little too well, neckline dipping low, dark green in color.

   You ripped your eyes away and set the basket of medical supplies on the floor. Picking up the flower necklace off of the couch cushions and clasping it around your neck. Laying down a knitted blanket over the couch as a sheet shortly after and settling yourself, ready to sleep. 

   The sound of Josuke calling your name made your eyes fly open.

   "What do you think you're doing?" You sat up, confusion written all over your face.

   "Excuse me?" He was still smiling.

   "You can't possibly be thinking about sleeping on the couch?" He was clearly mocking you from earlier with a smirk on his face, which annoyed you to no end. You rolled your eyes at him as he stepped forward.

   "Yes, that is what I was trying to do. You're too tall to be sleeping on the couch Josuke, I was being courteous." Josuke was still smirking as he leaned over you, hands on the back of the couch to trap you in. You opened your mouth to speak but only gasped as he suddenly snuck an arm under your knees and another under your head to pick you up in a bridal hold.

   "Josuke! P- put me down this instant!" You squeaked. He only responded with a hum as he roughly dropped you on the bed.

   "What kind of knight would I be if I made a damsel in distress sleep on the couch?" 

   "I'm no damsel in distress!" You insisted as he walked back to the couch, landing on the cushions with a thump.

   "You were definitely in distress when I found you."

   "No I wasn't!" You were laughing at that point, he playfully scoffed at you and you responded by chucking a pillow at him. He caught it as it hit against his chest and put it on the couch where he could sleep. Rolling over on his side that faced away from you. 

   You couldn't help but stay smiling as you stood to blow out the lanterns, speaking softly as you returned to the bed. 

   "Goodnight, Josuke."

   "Goodnight, fair damsel." 

[according2thelore]

just found your tumblr account and thought id give you the comments i never left on your fics. my top three are: I. “swallow my breath and take whats mine” nothing to say about this one except i live for feral sam, the fear for dean’s death and acceptance of letting himself be cannibalized just because he doesn’t want to lose him and at the end the contempt for john, for how far he’s willing to go just to train dean (his inability to understand that it is NOT normal has a whole other special flavor). it was short, lovely and heartbreaking with a je ne sais quoi in sam’s feelings towards dean. 10/10. II. “and its you that i want” this was more lighthearted, not accounting for the breakup between dean and girl X, the best part was sam needing to be used, his desire to be just a vessel for deans pleasure. also i love EVERYTHING that depicts sam’s discomfort with his size with his need to be smaller. overall the smut is so sexy and intimate and also i love the fact that theyre obsessed with each other even in another universe. i love every smith/wesson fic because i love to imagine their reactions when confronted with what they would do with each other when not being stuck with whatever inhibition theyre battling with. 12/10 just because it has smut. “souls tied intertwined by our pride and guilt” NO. WORDS. it is my most read fic on ao3 in the whole seven years ive used the platform and it was published less than a year ago. i love everything. every word, every emotion. the fic starts with the voyeur moment, dean’s guilt at the idea that it was sam’s worst terror and sam’s fear that he may have revealed too much and everything its now out in the open. “the dark side of the moon” is already a seriously angsty episode by itself, but your spin on it with their guilt, their shame and the continuous misunderstandings is lovely.

dean’s overthinking about when did he become so overwhelming to sam that he was TERRIFIED of his big brother, when did he become something that sam needed to escape from leaving for college? sams line that said he “always lived with it” had dean spiraling with guilt and shame and fear so much that he left and “threw” away the amulet. sam on the other hand is full of shame for his biggest desire is out there, the crippling need to have his brother, so debilitating that he had to escape, not from deans leering as he may think, but from his fucked up needs, his perversion of their relationship, of him feeling like he twisted up something genuine and good so much that his brother is now disgusted with him (i love when one of the two seems “disgusted” leaving the other feeling dirty and a pervert) overall i never found a fic that fit all of my reading needs as well as this one. you took a basic misunderstanding trope and spun it in a whirlwind of suffering, dejections, inhibitions and the best part GUILT AND SHAME.

i have no more words 100/10 i live for it. keep up with your writing because i live for it and eat up every single work you produce.

sorry if some bits are grammatically incorrect english is not my first language.

much love<3

anon...oh my god anon...anon...

okay so i'm thinking an autumn wedding? how soon do you think we could book a venue?? i mean, we could always elope.

but seriously, anon--holy shit. this ask made my MONTH. i don't know what i did to deserve such lovely and incredible people on this blog but i am so GRATEFUL!!!

just little responses to the comments:

EEP! thank you! desperately devoted winchesters are delicious! we see series!sam being incredibly unhinged about dean/his safety, so i was interested to explore how a pre-series!sam would navigate a situation like that.

heehee i'm glad this one was good! charlotte beta'd the first half of this fic in public, and it was quite funny to watch her (a lesbian who is also new to A/B/O) give it a read. servicetop sam is something that i love that i also don't see a lot of, so i loved being able to add some in this universe where their power dynamics are slightly shifted (in the corporate ladder sense and also alpha/omega lol). a +2 for the smut!! hell yeah!!! thank you ! :)

okay, small guilty pleasure moment, i LOVE misunderstanding tropes. admittedly in big, long pieces of fiction (fan or otherwise) in the 40k+ category, i can get tired of it, but misunderstandings are such a great way to understand and explore the interpersonal and INTRApersonal strengths/weaknesses/flaws of characters and their understanding of the world they are in. i was afraid everyone was going to hate this fic on sight bc it's written for me (and charlotte) specifically (and i've found from some very vocal and angry people that they hate misunderstandings (not on this blog, thank goodness, everyone has been lovely!)), but i am SO INCREDIBLY HONOURED AND GRATEFUL AND GLAD that you like it!!!!! i don't even have words for how much all of the comments, but this one especially, meant!!! all of your comments breaking it down made me smile wider and wider!

i hope my work continues to be entertaining, and THANK YOU again for this lovely ask!! (ps, your grammar is stellar!! much love!!!)

-lizzy <3

(pps mwah mwah mwah mwah)

[havvki-writes]

The Scary Stories Won't Stop

holy shit it's not VaNoe lol

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Characters: Link, Zelda, Calamity Ganon, Guardians Tags: angst, thunder, reawakening memories, bloodshed, war Citrus Scale: Orange! Spoilers: final memory of the game is revealed! Word count: 948 AO3 Link: right here! Notes: I want to give Link a big ol' hug, but even so I will continue to torture him because I love struggles

---

Though he normally avoided spending the night at one of the many stables throughout Hyrule, Link made an exception that night on account of the umbratic clouds looming overhead. After boarding Epona with the ranch hands at the Duel Peaks Stable and checking with the odd astronomer outside—how was he able to tell when the Blood Moon would rise?—he bought a bed for the night.

It was rare for any of the other weary travelers to attempt making small talk with him, and tonight was no different. Every bed had a warm body inhabiting it, which only solidified the importance of seeking shelter on this night. Most of those around him were preparing to sleep through the storm, but the children a few beds down on his right were more active than every adult combined. As he untied his hair and removed his boots, Link was keenly aware of the conversation they were having.

“Did you hear that?!” one of them cried, hands clutched over his chest as he looked around the stable frantically.

“It’s just thunder,” said another, smothering who Link assumed was her brother with a pillow.

The boy threw the pillow aside, looking at his sister with an intensity. “No it’s not! Tia told me earlier that’s the sound of... of the Calamity...”

The corner of his mouth quirked, something akin to a smile etching against the edge of his lips. Children truly have the most entertaining imaginations.

“That’s not true, she lied,” said the girl. Link heard another thwump and figured she had hit him with a pillow again. “Have you even heard thunder? It’s way quieter than anything the Calamity could do.”

She wasn’t wrong, but Link had no intention to scare the boy further. Instead, he pulled the blankets over his shoulders, burrowing his body under the covers and settling in for the night.

“The Calamity is a shadow over the land, one that swallows it whole,” said the girl, her tone lowering as she emphasized each word. How cruel of her to try to scare her younger brother like that... “It festersin the darkness, spits fire on its enemies, and devours people with one gulp!”

Now she was getting off track, but the thought was still somewhat accurate. The Calamity didn’t just fester in the darkness—it prospered within it, spreading tendrils of malice and corruption wherever it could reach its inky grasp. It roared with a timbre that shook the earth, and its echo could be felt throughout the furthest reaches of the kingdom. When the crimson fog coalesced into a physical form, one could only pray they had run far enough away from its gaping maw before it could—

Boom!

The children screamed and Link bolted upright, grasping for the hilt of his sword in the darkness. Only after his fingers tightened over the handle did he notice the trembling of his shoulders and the catch in his throat. He wasn’t afraid of thunder, but he was afraid of the cacophonous sounds created by something much larger than him.

Urging himself to steady his breathing, he released his grip from the large weapon to instead take hold of a much smaller dagger, which he flipped in his hand until the blade pointed downward. Throwing the blanket over his shoulders once more, Link huddled under the covers and clutched the hilt of the dagger against his chest. His eyes were wide in the darkness as the images of a hundred years ago tainted his memory.

A storm, mechanical monsters with glowing eyes and deadly accuracy, bodies of soldiers splayed in the mud juxtaposed by those who stood upon shaking feet, and a girl.

He grabbed her hand and they fled, but they had already lost.

The vicious burn of fresh wounds, a crimson ooze spreading through once-blue attire, a battered and bruised boy who refused to die.

Clumps of mud in golden hair, a trodden dress nearly torn in half, the servant of the Goddess and Princess of Hyrule whose powers refused to awaken.

It was agony, the memory fresh in his mind as if it was formed yesterday, yet the event having occurred one hundred years ago. He could still feel the ghost of the Master Sword in his trembling hands, knuckles split and bleeding sluggishly as he readied himself. His body felt impossibly heavy, the weight of every life around him resting on his tender shoulders.

Though many revered him as a talented and worthy man, in this moment, as countless Guardians swarmed the ravaged wetlands around them, he had never felt more like a fearful child.

The Master Sword hummed in his hands, a voice emanating from deep inside telling him to stand strong, but how was that even possible? His body thrummed with blistering pain, and he worried he might topple over at any second.

A Guardian crested the hill above, setting its sights on the beaten duo when suddenly Zelda jumped before Link, thrusting her hand into the air as a brilliant flash scorched through the battlefield; each of the mechanical creatures crashed into the mud, lights flickering and sparks flying as they deactivated.

That was when Link collapsed, the time between the battle and arriving at the Shrine of Resurrection occurring in an instant in his mind’s eye.

Had all of that transpired right outside this very stable? Thunder crashed outside, and Link’s grip on the weapon tightened.

No matter what it cost him—be it his body, another hundred years, or his life—Link would put an end to Calamity Ganon once and for all. He had to, or else the scary stories wouldn’t end with the clap of thunder.

[anistarrose]

Fear The Reaper A Lot, Actually - Chapter 3

AO3

Chapter Summary: The battle continues! Kravitz arrives to help. Taako chills out. Angus remains skeptical.

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz

***

The cloaked necromancers Chad and Dave stood beside their fallen comrade, seething with rage. Green tendrils of electricity flew off their staff, materializing into twisting vines that pulverized almost every stone surface in a twenty-foot radius.

Behind them, Magnus coughed up water and struggled into a sitting position. He was still loosely bound by moss, but managed to swat the attacking vines away from Merle, who was looking even worse for wear on account of residing almost directly beneath the epicenter of Taako’s stalactite-shattering stunt.

“Don’t worry,” Merle mumbled, fumbling with a waterlogged Extreme Teen Bible. “I know how to deal with plants —”

His holy symbol began to glow, only for that radiant light to fade almost immediately as Merle’s head slumped. “Never mind, I think I’m concussed.”

From his position on the ledge between Angus and Kravitz, Taako watched with increasing concern.

“I really fucking didn’t think through the collateral damage of that move, did I?” he muttered. “Hey, Kravitz? If you’ve developed any grudging respect for me at all over the forty-eight hours we’ve been playing this game of cat and mouse, then can you do me a solid and get those two out of danger?”

Kravitz eyed the pile of rubble in the center of the cave, where the pool had once been. “Technically, I’ve been hunting you for more like twelve years. But I think I can figure something out.”

Before Taako could even react to the first statement, Kravitz turned into a ball of light and zipped down to the ground floor. Dave took a swing at him with the staff, but Kravitz was too fast, dodging green lighting bolts and disappearing into the shattered remnants of the stalactite.

There was an anticlimactic pause, then a low rumble, and a stone construct began to assemble itself as rubble from across the cave flew together to form four massive arms and fists. A few of the surviving slime constructs charged him, but Kravitz effortlessly flicked boulders through their heads with his lower pair of arms, then scooped up Magnus and Merle with his upper pair.

“What are you even doing with that staff? Either stop him, or hand it over to me!” Chad wrestled the staff out of Dave’s hands and pointed it at the base of the construct’s torso, summoning more vines and wiry tree roots that bored into the stone. But before they could bind or shatter any vital foundations, Taako took his cue to rejoin the fight, dropping a Fireball on the necromancers from directly above before casually floating down to their level, Umbra Staff still wreathed in flames.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Kravitz scanned the cave for ledges out of the way of danger, but Angus still occupied the only safe spot he could see. Instead, he drew upon his link to the Astral Plane and concentrated — and as the cracks in the construct’s form began to glow blue, several sapphire crystals burst out of the wall of the cave to form an elevated platform. He set Magnus and Merle down atop it, then brushed the last scraps of moss off their bodies with surprisingly dextrous stone fingers.

“Unhand me, you undead — oh, never mind, that’s actually really helpful,” Magnus told him. “But do you think you could get me my axe back?”

The construct’s head turned, as a movement on the ground floor caught Kravitz’s attention. Scattered pieces of moss were slowly creeping back together, reabsorbing diluted puddles of slime and writhing as they formed new undead constructs.

“Maybe later,” Kravitz answered, voice echoing across the cave. “Right now, I’ve got other priorities.”

From his bird’s-eye-view, Angus noticed the reforming slimes at the same time Kravitz did. “Taako, behind you!”

Taako had been handling the two surviving necromancers with ease, but he barely reacted in time to dodge a spray of acid from one of their newly formed minions. This one was taller and more deformed than any of the others, and its three arms wielded gelatinous copies of the Extreme Teen Bible, Railsplitter, and the Umbra Staff. Its face was perpetually bubbling and reforming, sprouting Magnus’s sideburns before replacing them with Merle’s beard, then Taako’s hat.

“Ugh!” Taako spat, recoiling. “I know you’re necromancers, but I didn’t sign up for this horror movie shit!”

“Try freezing it, sir!” Angus yelled, cupping both hands around his mouth. “Your Sleet Storm took out a lot of the vines last time!”

Taako fired off a simple Ray of Frost, catching the slime abomination in the shoulder and freezing its whole body solid in just a fraction of a second. Its face solidified somewhere between Merle’s and Taako’s, locked in a shouting expression — but thankfully, Taako didn’t have to stare at his fused likeliness for much longer, as Kravitz’s construct detached and launched one of its fists with a burst of blue astral fire, pulverizing the frozen construct into a thousand clouded ice crystals.

“Nice shot!” Taako called out. “But fuck, I wish we’d realized their weakness sooner!”

“Damn you, and damn your reaper friend a thousand times!” Dave bellowed. “But you haven’t won yet! Fuck ‘em up, Chad!”

Chad slammed the tip of the staff against the ground, and a dozen more vines arose to bind the stone behemoth. Kravitz let it crumble, turning back into a ball of light and zipping over to Taako’s side, where he rematerialized as a humanoid skeleton who gripped his scythe as three new, equally deformed slime clones rose and advanced towards them.

“If you freeze those three, I bet I can shatter them all in one attack,” Kravitz boasted, grinning at Taako.

“Create another sapphire at about torso height in the wall on our left, and I bet I can freeze ‘em all with just one ray!” Taako raised him.

“You’re on!” Kravitz plunged his scythe into the ground, and a sapphire crystal burst out from a wall of dull gray limestone. Nodding approvingly, Taako fired off another Ray of Frost, which ricocheted off the reflective blue surface at the perfect angle and flew in a straight line through all the clones, leaving each of them frozen.

Kravitz twirled his scythe and it morphed into a elegant black longbow, three sapphire-tipped arrows already nocked and blazing with ghostly flames. He turned his bow sideways as he fired, and each arrow pierced one frozen enemy, shattering them into three identical piles of icy shards.

“Ohoho! Nice one!” Taako laughed, applauding enthusiastically. “Look out for those clowns with the staff, though!”

Chad screamed and charged at Kravitz, wielding the intensely magical staff like a melee weapon — but Kravitz simply plucked the string of his bow, and upon hearing the tone, Chad dropped the staff and slammed his hands over his ears. In one lightning-fast motion that literally crackled with electricity, Kravitz reverted his bow to its scythe form and swung at Chad, who was vaporized the second the blade pierced his skin. A mottled brown cloak fell to the ground, sliced in half but no longer occupied by anything but dust.

“Could you do me a favor and freeze the rest of that moss, Taako?” Kravitz called out. “I’ll wrap up this battle on my own, if you don’t mind.”

“Go for it!” Taako told him, conjuring a floating bag of popcorn.

Kravitz vaulted into the air, tearing a rift through the fabric of the Material Plane with a twirl of his scythe. He vanished and reappeared behind Dave’s back, but Dave was ready for him, pulling out a longsword as he whirled around and parried Kravitz’s attack.

“Ah, you’re one of those people,” Kravitz commented, looking about as unperturbed as a skeleton could. “Got into necromancy later in life after the fighter class didn’t work out for you, eh?”

Dave managed to deflect Kravitz’s next flurry of strikes, but found himself losing ground as Kravitz backed him towards the wall below Magnus and Merle’s perch.

“Though it looks like you’re a little out of practice,” Kravitz went on. “Don’t worry — I’m sure you’ll find some new sparring partners in the Eternal Stockade.”

Gasping for breath and only a few more steps away from being cornered, Dave threw back his hood to reveal a rugged half-elven face, and managed a dazzling smile.

“You don’t have anywhere left to retreat,” Kravitz remarked amusedly. “Why the optimism?”

“Because I know something you don’t, reaper!”

“Which is?”

Dave tossed his cutlass from his left hand to his right. “I am not left handed!”

Kravitz laughed so hard that his appearance flickered between living and skeletal, even sprouting raven feathers in his hair for a brief moment. “Really? That’s all?”

Dave’s expression crumpled. “What do you mean?”

With each hand, Kravitz pulled his scythe in opposite directions, and it morphed into two new scythes, each blade as sharp and deadly as the original. “I thought you were going to say you had two swords!”

Shoveling popcorn into his face with one hand, Taako pointed his Umbra Staff behind him and blasted a reforming moss monster without even looking at it. “You tell ‘em, Krav!”

Dave tried to feint to the right then flee to the left, but Kravitz transformed into a dual-wielding whirlwind, twirling blades into a vortex that could’ve torn through solid stone. But every one of his movements was too precise, too carefully honed, to possibly strike an unintended target like a wall or misplaced boulder — one moment, Dave’s longsword was flying out of his hand, and the next, Dave himself was no more, vaporized into a cloud of dust that quickly dispersed and a bright soul-light that was banished directly to the Eternal Stockade.

A wand carved from gnarled wood fell to the ground, and as usual, the Umbra Staff inverted to slurp it up. For just a moment afterwards, Taako could’ve sworn that it tugged his hand ever so subtly upwards and pointed at Kravitz — but the second Kravitz turned around, the tugging stopped, and the residual magic aura surrounding the umbrella faded.

“Well, I suppose we should do something about that necromantic staff.” Kravitz transformed back into a human and walked over to the offending magical artifact, manifesting a black leather glove around his hand as he picked it up. “It’s not quite Grand Relic-tier dangerous, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe to leave lying around, either.”

He tore a new rift with his scythe and tossed the staff through. “And just when I was making headway on all that Miller paperwork…”

“Hey, if you need help, I bet you could outsource some of it to Angus!” Taako suggested. “You’re not kidnapping him to whatever weird afterlife cubicle you work from, though. He’s my student.”

“Angus is the child?” Kravitz glanced up to the ledge Angus still stood on, who was watching the events below with a mix of fascination and horror that could only come from a kid detective in over his head. “What were you thinking, bringing him here? He could’ve been hurt if I hadn’t arrived when I did!”

“Well, in my defense, I didn’t expect to have any potentially traumatizing battles with slime monsters,” Taako retorted. “It’s not my fault my life never has a dull moment!”

Kravitz sighed. “Neither does your undeath, apparently.”

“That’s just the way things go for celebrities. Nothing I can do about it!” Taako flipped his hair, then made a mental note to cut it now that it was getting long enough to flip. He didn’t want it turning into a mullet.

“I could name plenty of celebrities whose deaths have been relatively law-abiding, actually,” Kravitz told him, expression deadpan. “I’d say about eighty percent of them total, or maybe seventy-five.”

“I can only imagine the Astral Plane tabloids,” Taako chuckled, tossing his Umbra Staff into the air. “But anyway, let’s get you down from there, Agnes.”

The opened Umbra Staff flew into Angus’s hand, and with only slight hesitation, Angus leapt of the ledge. The handle was warm, but not hot, and something about that gentle heat just felt reassuring.

As Angus safely floated to the ground, enveloped in silver light, Kravitz made a sweeping downwards gesture with his scythe, and the sapphire crystals supporting Magnus and Merle began to rumble and slowly descend.

“Is it Angus or Agnes?” Kravitz asked the boy detective. “I think I must’ve misheard you at least once.”

“Well, it’s definitely not Agnes,” Angus replied. “Are you really the Grim Reaper?”

Kravitz chuckled. “I’ve had this job for almost eight centuries, and I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before. Usually the scythe’s convincing enough.”

Angus crossed his arms. “A little skepticism is always healthy, no matter how obvious the conclusion may seem. Caleb Cleveland taught me that, just like he taught me a lot of things.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar with Caleb Cleveland, but that sounds fair enough,” Kravitz cheerfully conceded. “Though maybe you should exercise a little more of that caution the next time Taako and his friends drag you along on a dangerous mission. Speaking of which, let me fix you all up.”

As Magnus and Merle reached the ground level of the cave, Kravitz’s scythe shimmered and morphed into a lute. Intricate carvings of various corvids covered almost every inch of the ebony wood, with tiny sapphires inlaid for their eyes. Magnus looked over the handiwork approvingly as Kravitz plucked out a simple melody, and an aura of rosy pink healing magic washed across the room.

Merle rubbed his forehead. “Huh, my headache just melted away…”

Taako laughed. “Yeah, that’s what healing magic usually tends to do for concussed people!”

“Has this been our problem the whole time?” Magnus added. “Has Merle just not been able to comprehend the concept of healing?”

“Did the concept of healing get erased by the Voidfish?” Taako wheezed.

“I can comprehend it just fine, assholes!” Merle retorted. “I’m just not used to seeing it as a performance!”

Kravitz returned his lute to scythe form. “Playing four chords and healing you wasn’t a performance. But Taako and I destroying those three undead? That was a performance.”

Taako beamed. “Hey, speaking of which — is there any chance killing three horrible slimy boys is equivalent to taking out one lich in the bounty system? Because I think I rocked it today, not to mention the two of us really vibing, and it would be cool if you could cut me just a little bit of slack.”

“I’m afraid none of today’s harvest had actually died and escaped the Astral Plane before, which means they still rank far below both the three of you, as well as your actual targets,” Kravitz replied. “But I could probably pull a few strings and make sure your cells in the Eternal Stockade are all next to each other, if it makes you feel compensated.”

“Does that include Lucas Miller?” Magnus asked. “I really don’t want to be stuck in a cell next to Lucas for eternity.”

Kravitz shrugged.

“Noelle and Maureen can hang, though,” Magnus clarified. “They’re cool.”

Taako ignored Magnus, walking over to Kravitz’s sapphire platform to examine it. Even after knocking on it and prodding it with his Umbra Staff, it remained solid. “I might end up regretting this question, but your sick crystal stunt reminded me and now I gotta know — if you’re this good with your scythe, then why didn’t you just take a physical form in Lucas’s lab and kill us that way instead of fucking around as a crystal construct?”

“No matter how powerful I am with it, there was always a chance of my scythe touching a crystal and being transmuted into pink tourmaline, which would’ve rendered most of its powers unusable,” Kravitz explained. “So I decided to go in incorporeally — which I may or may not regret, I haven’t decided yet.”

Taako nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think I would’ve cast that tentacle spell on, like, a dude. Not that I’m know whether you’re thinking of that as a positive or a negative —”

“You know, there’s something I really should’ve given you last time!” Kravitz deflected, transforming back into a skeleton and hoping his flustered expression would be harder to read on a skull than on a face with eyes and skin and flesh. “You need a way of summoning me!”

“You mean saying your name three times doesn’t work?” Merle asked.

“Unless I’m already scanning for undead in the general area, no.” Kravitz reached into his robe and pulled out a quiver of arrows, which he handed to Taako. “These are tipped with sapphires and fletched with raven feathers. Stabbing one into a surface of your choice while saying my name just once will release a powerful magical flare and get my attention, and I’ll warp over as soon as I can.”

Grinning, Taako slung the quiver over his shoulder. “Dude, that’s metal as fuck!”

“But please save them for genuine necromantic emergencies — either when you get a lead on one of the liches, or if another dangerous situation like the one today comes up.”

Taako’s grin faded. “So… they’re for business only.”

“I… uh… I’m sorry,” Kravitz stammered, immediately regretting the stipulation. But I can’t change my mind now, there’d be no way to explain it without just sounding awkward…

“It’s a company policy,” he fibbed. “Not my choice, unfortunately.”

Taako seemed to buy it, though he still looked disappointed. “Oh, well. Woulda been nice to hang with you, but I guess I’ll — we’ll see you later, then.”

“Good luck, Taako,” Kravitz said. “Good luck to all of you — and I mean that much more sincerely than I meant it last time.”

He tore open a portal to the Astral Plane and leapt through it with a dramatic swing of his cloak — but not before seeing Angus stick his tongue out at him, stubborn and defiant in that uniquely ten-year-old way.

Returning to his office overlooking the Astral Sea, Kravitz sighed, and addressed the raven perched on the back of his swivel chair.

“You know, I don’t think Taako’s student likes me very much.”

“Caw,” replied the raven, which almost certainly translated as either I smell popcorn or oh Kravitz, what in the world have you gotten yourself into?