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icariathebard · 2 years ago

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The Arkham Hellion: Year One

Chapter 1: The One Where Everything Worked Out (Part 3)

Characters: Connie Inviglio (oc), Dante Spectre (oc), Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow. Emril Griffith (oc, mentioned), Connie Inviglio x Jonathan Crane (slight)

Warnings: Language warning, dark themes, psychoanalysis

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: okay i know i tagged this as Crane x Connie but like it only sets the foundation for it here

———————

Connie stopped by her apartment first. She had thirty minutes until she had to be at the station, and she needed to feed her dog. Bilbo came bounding towards her, his fluffy tail wagging with excitement. Her shift at GCPD ran from 3 to 8, mirroring the hours she worked at Arkham, from 9 to 2. She was going to get home late tonight, so she fed Bo half of his dinner early. As she looked at her calendar in between shifts, she realized that her shift ended at 8 (way past when her parents would be enjoying dinner) and that right after she needed to get to the university for her class. A lot of her credits came from her work with the police and at the Asylum, but there were still a couple of classes that would help round out her degree and assure her future doctorate. Her class would be at nine, end at ten, she’d be home at ten thirty, and she could sleep.

Today was Thursday for Miss Caroline Inviglio, which is why she had her night class with Dr. Crane. In the morning, she’d have to get up early to attend her positive psychology class, work her shift at Arkham, but she wasn’t needed at the station on Fridays, so she instead had a lecture, a self defense class, and the evening to herself to complete school work. Saturdays had no shifts, another self defense class and a kickboxing class, but then she’d have the rest of the day. Those were the days she’d take Bilbo out for walks, go to the park or maybe visit a cemetery and leave flowers at each grave. Sundays were more classes, more lectures, another walk, and then work would resume on Monday.

Connie worked hard. She took her pills, minded her diet, and crammed as much effectiveness into her independent life as she could. Once upon a time, she was trapped with a family with animosity towards each other, surviving through mental illness and before that, living paycheck to paycheck in uncertain households. She never would have seen herself with the life that she had now. A dog, steady work, an abundance of education and the willpower and time to train her body to fight. Rest may have been limited, but she earned every bit of it, and didn’t regret the life she had.

At 3:01 pm, Connie had parked her car, and five minutes later, she had her ID on and had checked in at the front desk of the Gotham City Police Department.

"Ms. Inviglio?" a voice asked, and upon turning around Connie was faced with one of the most attractive men she had ever met.

"That's, uh, that's me." Her mind raced to keep calm, but very attractive people, men in particular, had a way of causing her common sense to falter. Women she felt more confident around, more encouraged to impress and befriend, but men were intimidating.

He had odd features, not the kind one would typically describe a perfect man- no square jaw, chiseled features, sharp nose, or piercing eyes. Quite frankly, his features could almost be described as soft, with a rounded jaw and no overly pronounced chin, thin lips and dark brown eyes. When he extended his hand for a handshake, she gripped it with a firm and confident shake, despite her trembling. The softness of his hands caught the hopeless romantic that Connie was off guard.

A tattoo of a sun or star, some design that looked pagan but she wasn't familiar with, was tattooed on the side of his neck, and delicate symbols and shapes were tattooed on the back of his hands. A large windbreaker-type coat swamped his broad shoulders, and underneath that he wore a black shirt and a gold chain. His hair was shaved on the sides and slicked back.

The man may have had gentler facial features and pianist's hands, but his time as a detective in Gotham wore him into the focused, grizzled and bitter cop before her. His eyes were dark and shadowed, and his thin lips were pulled into a hard line.

"I'm Detective Spectre; Commissioner Gordon said you'd be arriving. You're our intern?" Even his voice was pretty, and Connie struggled to compute how to maintain social etiquette.

"I'm, uhm, yup. That’s me. I’m doing criminal profiling, yknow, ha..." Her father was an attorney and before that, a soldier. She gained a lot from growing up under him, and one of them was the lift of her chin, the squaring of her shoulders and her hands resting stiffly at her side when she was faced with a superior.

The detective regarded her carefully. "I'm told you work with Dr. Griffith?"

"Yes, sir."

As the detective lead her down to her place in the forensics lab, Connie used her inhaler. Her hammering heart and nerves did not help the scratch and ache in her lungs. It confirmed a theory she had once told a friend - that attractive people were bad for her health. Once Dt. Spectre explained his expectations for her work on his case, he left, and Connie’s focus returned.

Connie did see her dad when he came by the station to receive evidence; and she also noticed how it came from the Commissioner himself. It wasn’t hard to see the truth- that Batman was involved. In almost every aspect of her life and career, he was. Maybe, she’d get to see this fable of a man for herself, but until then, she regarded him as a resource for the criminal-justice system, and kept neutral opinions on the morality of his existence. Michael and Connie exchanged a hug, and Connie apologized that she would have to miss dinner to complete her work and make it to her class. Returning home was rescheduled for Saturday, when her mother Seanna would make her famous red rice.

Work went smoothly from there. As a forensic, she assisted a witness in Dt. Spectre’s case in sketching a depiction of the criminal. If the GCPD wasn’t so understaffed, Connie wouldn’t have any involvement in forensic art, but she was more than qualified to provide the service. As the witness struggled to describe her assailant, she shook, stammered and contradicted her own statements. Connie had to calm her down repeatedly. Connie then had to write out a rough description of what kind of person would be inclined to commit certain crimes - profiling. The assailant for Spectre’s case was the most interesting, because Connie deemed him to be a complete sociopath, and what behaviors and mannerisms he’d exhibit. Once Connie submitted her report and finished up other necessary paperwork for other cases, she finished her shift at 8.

Cold barbecue pizza, feed and pet the dog, double check on the plants, grab your lanyard. Four things, just a quick stop at her apartment, and then Connie was heading out again. Leftover pizza was not the most nutritious dinner, but it would tide her over for her class. She technically didn’t need to take this class, but of all the classes that could have given her credits, this one was the most interesting. A lot of students didn’t like Dr. Crane or his class, and found him creepy, but Connie gave him the benefit of the doubt and deemed him an eccentric; additionally, in a class about fear, creepy things would inevitably be the topic of discussion.

Connie took this class despite its reputation, because understanding the psychology and behaviour centered around fear would inevitably assist her work at Arkham. It certainly helped Crane, who also worked at the asylum; his office was just down the hall from Dr. Griffith’s. She found Dr. Crane attractive in a way, but he was strange and intimidating, so it was much easier to dismiss, but she still found herself admiring him. He was dedicated to science and his work, and he had succeeded in his career. That gained her appreciation far more than his elegant features and cold blue eyes.

She made it to the campus early. After walking across the courtyard of Gotham University, going up a flight of steps and walking across the building, she found Dr. Crane’s classroom. Twenty minutes to go, and the door was closed. Not wanting to disturb her professor before he opened the door, she found a seat on the floor against the wall, and checked her phone. There were too many texts, messages, emails and notifications waiting for her; over ten hours since she was able to really check her phone, and Connie marveled at how work now distracted her from the device, and not vice versa.

Several of the messages were from Camille Gutierrez, her friend from before Connie moved to Gotham, who moved there as well pursuing her acting career. Most of it was videos that Cam found funny, and others were updates on her life. Connie took the time to respond as appropriately as she could.

“Hello, Caroline,” a voice said suddenly, and Connie jumped, jerking her eyes upward and swearing under her breath. Her gaze landed on Dr. Crane, thin and cold as always, looking down at where she sat. As her heart rate settled from the jump, Crane smiled. With one thin finger, he pushed his clear glasses up his nose, and regarded his frightened student with a remote intrigue.

“Dr. Crane!” Connie finally said once her thoughts were gathered. “Excuse my language.”

Connie stood and gathered her bag, brushing herself off and straightening her shirt.

“You’re early.”

“Traffic wasn’t as bad as I was expecting.”

Connie squirmed nervously in Crane’s presence, which brought him a mild form of delight.

“No need to sit in the hall. Come inside.”

Crane turned back into the classroom, and not wishing to be disrespectful, Connie followed.

“How have you been enjoying my class, Caroline?” Crane asked as he walked to his desk. This was the most one on one discussion she had ever had with him, and her social anxiety crept in on her. She found her preferred seat in the class, a desk towards the front of the room where she could better see and hear the professor. It wasn’t directly next to Crane’s desk, but it was close enough that Crane could engage in conversation with her.

“I’m enjoying it,” she replied, clearing her throat. “I’m finding it insightful on behavior.”

“Is that so?” He hummed. “Fear, I have found, is the most potent of neurological reactions. It is stronger than any other instinct.”

“Even love?” Connie blurted, and when Crane looked up at her with an unamused expression, she regretted it.

“What good is love to survival? And don’t say reproduction, because love is not needed for that.”

“For other animals, love and reproduction coexist for a purpose, but not for humans.”

Crane adjusted his glasses once more before looking at his computer.

“Not exactly, of course,” Connie rushed to correct herself. “Love is objective and it’s not entirely known if animals feel love, except for like dogs, or maybe dolphins…”

She laughed uncomfortably under her breath and sat back, curling in on herself.

“Then tell me. Why do you suggest love?”

“It- it gives people purpose. Without purpose, there is insanity. I think, uhm, at least. This is more philosophical, though…” Connie reached for her inhaler as she cleared her throat again.

“And you think the need for purpose is stronger than fear?”

“I think without purpose, there is no reason to fear anything.”

Crane looked up at Connie again, leaning forward.

“Interesting.”

Silence fell as Connie’s mind raced and Crane studied his pupil.

“What do you love, Caroline?” Crane asked carefully, breaking the silence.

“I, uhm. I love my dog, for sure. And my family. And my friends.”

Crane rolled his eyes.

“Only living things that give you some sort of validation?”

“I love my dog because seeing it happy makes me happy.”

“You keep mentioning your dog.”

“He’s not human. And I have nothing negative to connote to him.”

“Do negative connotations negate love?”

Connie thought over all that had happened in her life, the conflict and divisions and the fighting amongst her family, the distance and grief at missing her friends, the conflict and chaos that tore at her heart for years. At that moment, her pain of the past killed her social anxiety, and she winced.

“I’d rather not go over it. My dog is just an easy example.”

Her family was a weak point, and Crane took note of that.

“Does your dog give your purpose?”

“No,” Connie replied reluctantly. “But my dog makes the pay off of work sweeter.”

“Then what gives you purpose?” Crane gave her one of those strange looks that only he seemed to give, that other students despised.

“Helping others,” Connie replied steadily. “I can’t heal the world, but there are good people who don’t deserve to be in pain all the time.”

“Like lunatics?” Crane smirked in amusement.

“Like the people of Gotham,” Connie shot back, as politely as she could. “If I can understand fear, I can help others overcome it.”

This elicited a small laugh from Crane, and he slowly removed his glasses.

“Very well.”

Other students began to arrive, and the rest of the class went on without anything unusual. She returned home, showered, took her medicine, and went to sleep. With her loyal Bernese pup curled up at her side, she felt safe, and at peace. Things were normal.

That was, until the next morning. She heard it on the news:

Harvey Dent had escaped Arkham.

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writers-blogck · 2 years ago

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A Favor Called ( Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x Reader )

Warning(s): This will go into religion and the ideas of Christianity. Some information may be incorrect as I myself am not a practicing Christian. This should be expected when it comes to the Sandman, or really most Niel Gaiman pieces. Disrespect is not meant but here is a warning for those who may be sensitive to that topic. This will also use the information given in the comics. No big spoilers save for including all of the Endless. There will also be original characters, including the Lower Seven Endless. They will show up later in the story. Reader is Female. Song: Enter Sandman by Metallica

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Title: A Favor Called Description: A century goes by but Morpheus gets out. What is waiting for him on the outside? Pairing: Dream of the Endless [ Morpheus ] x Reader Fandom: The Sandman ( Comics and Netflix Series ) Word Count: 5,358

Previous Chapter: None. Next Chapter: The Pouch Opened Story Index

Dream was locked in a glass orb, laid out like a marble statue. His eyes were narrowed as his arm laid to cover the lower half of his face. To the guards, the man didn't breathe or blink. He didn't eat, he didn't need to do anything. Roderick said he wasn't Death but then...What was he? A devil? Demon? He kept the truth from the basic guards, they needn't know. They instead were left to wonder.

"He's right scary, he is." The rat-like guard spoke, long and thin nose wrinkling up as if he smelled something rotten. Dream never remembered their names. He just identified them based on their appearance. They never stood out. All the same deep in their core. Terrible. Rotten.

"How does he stay so fit when he's trapped in there all the time?" This one was tubbier and more stout in appearance. His nose was upturned and had fat covering his cheeks; he looked like a pig. Dream could only imagine what he would do to the two guards if he got loose. Those thoughts were a comfort on the harder days. Even though he was an immortal being, it didn't make it any easier to deal with the passing days.

"How does he survive without needing to eat? Or needing to use the loo? This man isn't normal, mate. He's a right demon, fuckin' monster. Sleep Paralysis Demon or somethin'. It's why we gotta drink the bean juice and take the pills. So he doesn't possess one of us when we go to sleep." The Rat swirled the black coffee in his mug before taking a swig.

"I think he's a Dracula. He's pale enough to be one. Ain't never tried to put him in sunlight before."

Dream pushed the duo's words out of his mind as he retreated into his thoughts. He knew he had been in here for over twenty years, at the very least. Keeping track of time when you were stuck in the same place day after day was nearly impossible. Rumors of a Second Great War filled the air and for a moment, he thought he might be able to use that to his advantage. But, no, Roderick still took every precaution when dealing with Dream.

Even though Dream wondered if his siblings would come for him, deep within him he knew that he would be ashamed if they did. He never needed their help. He was solitary. He was alone. He didn't need anyone. Yet, here he was, trapped. He just had to remind himself that he could play the long game. Humans die. He would not. If he just waited...

All he had to do was get through these years, which was easier said than done. His mind always would run back to his kingdom and his faithful servants. He would think of the Virtue of Hope who spent more time in his realm than her own. What was happening to them, to his kingdom? He had never been parted from his duties for this long since he was created. He just had to remind himself that he left it in good hands. Lucienne knew what she was doing and Hope was there to help. She had observed his duties so much, she would know what to do.

His thoughts often drifted back to the Virtue of Hope...When all you can do is think, it is hard not to regret past decisions, especially when you were Dream. She would come to his realm to hide and he always pushed her away. She never did anything but be kind to him and Dream would return said kindness with his usual bitterness.

The real question was, where did Hope hide now?

London, 2020

John Constantine owed the Devil a favor. That really was just as bad as it sounded. He had no idea what Lucifer would call him to do but he had been in such a desperate situation to save his sister that he had no other choice than to accept the fallen angel's help. Why did he always get himself in those situations? The ends that always were the last resort? It felt as though that was all he got recently. Nothing liked to go his way and it was quite tiring, to say the least.

Lucifer had gained some honor recently and that had John hoping that whatever the task was, it wouldn't go against his morals too severely. No murdering babies or robbing the elderly. Eh, Lucifer didn't do that type of thing anyway. That was just the Christians creating a monster to scare children. No, the real Devil was much more clever and even had his own rules he would abide by. Demons on the other hand...They had no qualms about hurting children. John tried to push the screaming girl from his mind but no matter what he did, he could never quiet her. A constant reminder of his failures.

He didn't have a clue about what he may be called to do, but he definitely wasn't expecting to see the charismatic man standing there with a young girl, who had to be no older than her early twenties, when he was eventually called. There was a look in her eyes, one of distance and foggy visions. Was she being controlled? His hands clenched in his pockets, mind racing at what he may have gotten himself into. Could he refuse Lucifer and walk out of here alive? He doubted that. Even still, he had boundaries that he didn't like to cross. He hoped that whatever the favor was, it had nothing to do with harming the girl.

The girl wasn't wearing a lot of clothing. Only a silk dress, which John assumed to be a slip, graced her form. Other than that small piece of fabric, her soft skin was on full display. Now John Constantine liked to think of himself as a gentleman in many aspects but even he couldn't help but take in the beauty of the woman standing before him. This was no natural beauty. He had been around enough nonhumans to sense when something was off.

"Hello, Constanteene."

"Constantine."

"Whatever, Constanteene, Constantine, Potato, Potaato- Just listen up, Conman. I need to call upon that favor I'm owed and this is a very important task. It would be to your benefit to do everything correctly from here on out. If you mess this up, I will not hesitate to create a personal hell for you that your worst nightmares couldn't possibly begin to dream up. Do you understand?"

"I have a feeling you'll create my own personal Hell no matter what I do when I end up kickin' that bucket."

"Jonathan, do you understand?"

"Right, I've just got here, mate. I've no bloody idea what's going on." Flicking open his lighter, he placed one of his cigarettes between his lips. He had a feeling that he was going to need one. He turned out to be right.

"What's going on, is that I require your services in becoming a sort of protector, guard, whatever you would like to call it. Either way, I'm calling in my favor, now."

"Guard her? And she is? Don't tell me she's gonna be a future sacrifice or somethin'."

"Listen well. She has many names, but from what I hear, she goes by (Y/N) as the primary title during this current time period. Some have called her Elpis. Others have called her Guan-Yin. Some even like to call her Pandora, though that isn't correct. She may have dealt with the woman but they are not one and the same." Lucifer slowly walked a circle around the still woman. If it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of her chest, John might have believed she was a very realistic statue. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time.

"Excuse me? Mate, that didn't clear a thing up."

"If you would let me finish," The taller man's eyes flashed red before they softened back to their dusty blue as he looked at the girl, "She is a citizen of the Silver City. She is a Virtue, which is the opposite of a Sin. She is Hope."

Hope? Now John had heard a lot of strange things in his life but this was nearing the top. As he blew out a ring of smoke, he did admit to himself that she did seem like a holy being. He had met angels before. Some gave off a sense of fierce loyalty while others had the gracefulness of a swan, but all had an unparalleled beauty. This woman fit into that category just like the rest. Yet, John couldn't feel the same aura that came with Heavenly beings.

"So, an angel?"

"No, well yes, in a way, but high in the ranking. Angels are a rank of Celestial, the same as Archangels or Virtues. You, humans, like to call everything an Angel. Virtues are the highest in power as they can not be replaced. There are only seven in existence and each is just as unique as the other. Father didn't like making creations like that. He always allowed the opportunity for replacement but with the very nature of Virtues, due to them being created from their element, they can not be replaced."

"Right..."

The Devil shook his head, pushing his annoyance to the side. He was just being reminded of why he didn't work with John Constantine that much. He preferred John's twin sister, Johanna, but even he would admit that John was a better choice for this. Not only did he have a favor owed but the man was kinder than his elder sibling. He likes to play it up that he was doom and gloom all the time but Lucifer could easily see past that. Most could if they spent any time with him.

"Think of it like this. All holy beings aren't under the classification angels, though you humans seemed to use the term as a catch-all. Instead, angels are their own type. I, myself, was not an angel but an Archangel before I fell." He grimaced like there was a sour taste in his mouth, "Cherubs, Seraphim, the Powers. All different types of Celestial Beings. But yes, she is an angel if you have to consider it like that."

"Like a square is a rectangle but a rectangle isn't a square."

"What?"

"Nevermind. So, I just have to watch over her? She in danger or somethin'? I don't know how I could do anything more than she could."

"She has lost her powers. They were taken from her."

"Why did-"

"Demons, those that are loyal to me in any way, will offer her no danger. I've informed them that she is off-limits. But there are many things that would love to rid the world of a Virtue, especially Hope. With her loss of power, they may be successful in their attempts. I can not keep her safe without trapping her in my realm which I do not wish to do." Lucifer ran a gentle hand down the side of the girl's face, a look of soft care gracing his features, "She would not do well in Hell, even though I miss her dearly."

"Is she a past bird, then?"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. No, Hope, she is my baby sister. I was her guardian, after all, Raphael could never truly replace me. Our bond is as strong as before, though I may not remember my time as Samael; what I do remember is the feelings I had for her, the sense of protection. I will not allow our family to ruin her as they did me. She does not deserve that."

"Wait, wait- You said she lost her powers? That means she's human?"

"Not human. Not fully anyway." Lucifer sighed, shaking his head. Constantine tried to ask another question but was interrupted by the other man before he could.

"Do you know this is the first time her feet have ever touched the ground?" This time, the Devil snapped his fingers, and a trench coat, golden in color, that was a near match to Constantine's, appeared in his arms. He draped it gently over his sister's shoulders with a sigh. Every move was filled with a gentleness that John had never seen from Lucifer before.

"Really?" Did that matter?

"Holy beings and the beliefs of purity. You know how it is...But, it is clear to me that she will not do well on Earth by herself. Not only from unnatural forces but from humans as well. I don't know how she will adapt. She will need your protection."

"And can I ask why she's going to Earth?"

"The same reason we all end up on Earth, punishment."

Lucifer stared at the girl with a look of pity in his eyes. It was easy to see that he truly cared for her. Had he gone soft? He hadn't been in her life for so long, why did he have to feel this way? The bond should have split as he fell, just as his wings burned away. It would have been much easier but then, who would you have in your corner when it came to family? It worried him, the times he saw just how alike the two of your situations were. Did your Father set you up just for failure? You didn't have the ego that Lucifer did, no armor against the world.

"So, I have to watch her for, what, a week? Three?"

"Until I say otherwise."

"Shite, how long until that then, mate?"

"Unknown. But what I do know is that this will not be easy. For you or for her."

Lucifer stood in front of the girl and buttoned up the jacket in both an attempt to keep the warmth in and the skin hidden. This was how a brother was supposed to treat his little sister, not what Michael had done. He wanted to rage against Heaven, knowing how they have turned their backs on her. She always did her job! Even the other Virtues allowed this to happen? He was beginning to wonder if he didn't have the entire story. He was picking up everything from second-hand sources.

Pushing the sleeve up on her right arm, Lucifer ran his hand over his sister's wrist. On the pulse point on the inner wrist, he began to burn a symbol. A feather with Angelic script underneath reading Redemption. It seemed like a tattoo but actually, upon closer inspection, was a scar. John winced in sympathy but if the girl felt the pain, she didn't show it.

"Neither of you will remember this encounter. When you awake, you will be traveling partners and no questions will be asked. It will be as if you have been with one another for months. When the time comes, as it surely will, when she will start her penance, this symbol will be vital. It will hold a memory, a strong one that will trigger her acceptance. Just like a bite from the forbidden fruit."

"Wait, wot?! What if I have some questions now about everything-"

"There is no time for that. All that matters is this: Do not disappoint me, John Constantine."

The Dreaming, 415 BCE

"Come on, Morpheus, you can't be serious with this." You lay on your back, staring at the strange creation in front of you. You had seen quite a lot of things in your time of existence but you would never get used to the dreams and nightmares that Morpheus would create. He had a big imagination, that's for sure. Even looking at it from your upside-down point of view, you could see Dream's touch. Anything your Father came up with never could compare.

"You can't keep making your nightmares handsome, okay? You're gonna give people a complex. Like that man Desire cursed, Oedipus?"

"He has teeth instead of eyes. How is he handsome?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at the blonde creation. Sometimes he could be so dense, "And Oedipus had sexual relations with his own mother. I don't see how that's relevant to what we're dealing with in the present moment."

Using your wings to push yourself off the rock you claimed as a chair, you ended up doing a strange backflip before getting back to your feet. The fog dispersed around you as you landed with ease, revealing the dark gray rock that made up this strange area of the Dreaming. You called it Dream's Workshop, though he insisted it had a proper name. Morpheus let you watch him at work while you worked on your own duties, knowing how you preferred to be with someone rather than alone. It took a lot of effort for you to carve a place in his dark heart but you had time. If you had anything, it was time.

Each step you took seemed to only glance over the ground as if you were floating above the rocks naturally; you looked weightless. With a simple wave of your hand over the creature's "eyes", a dark piece of cloth covered the one obvious indicator that the creature was a nightmare. Now he looked like a normal human would, though admittedly more attractive. His face still was all sharp edges and harsh curves, his smile with teeth like a military graveyard. Was Morpheus so blind that he couldn't see when he made something attractive?

"See? Might as well just call him Adonis."

"It doesn't matter what he looks like," Morpheus clasped his hands behind his back, stopping to look at the nightmare's new profile. He didn't want to admit it but he did enjoy the look of the blindfold. It hid what was frightening and would allow it to be a surprise for whoever this nightmare would haunt. Some nightmares were more monster based while others were closer to humanoid shapes. The younger children were mostly scared of monsters under their beds, but their nightmares became more abstract as they grew older. Failure, loneliness- Dream had to be more creative with his creations when the humans got older. With this nightmare, he intended to use it for adults who have fears of not having control as well as the unknown. So many couldn't handle the feeling of being helpless...Perhaps he should send this nightmare to those that made others helpless, allowing them to feel what they wrought for a change. He did like karmic revenge.

"I don't know. You don't want your dreamer to be scared and attracted at the same moment." You teased, crossing your arms over your chest, "That will be very confusing~. But, he looks good. Teeth for eyes, he could bite you in three different places at the same time! I guess they all would be near each other since, obviously, they still are just on the face. I bet his nightmare would be the ones where you lose your teeth."

"Hmph."

"What will you call him?"

"The Corinthian."

"After the town?"

"Yes, the one where crime runs rampant."

"Hm...It fits," Moving forward, you tossed your arms over Morpheus' shoulders to drape yourself lazily against him. You knew that his face would scrunch up, pretending he didn't like your touch. It had taken centuries for you to even get him to accept any touch and still, he would happily deny it to this day. Even still, you swore that you felt him lean into your touch a few times...He couldn't hate it all the time. But, you kept your mouth shut, knowing he would only lash out if you brought it up. He would give you the silent treatment for decades. You had already experienced that after you played around with his raven, Lucienne. Boy had he been upset when he found you. Though you hadn't done anything wrong, he was just a spoiled sport! Lucienne hadn't even minded...

"Do Nightmares ever dislike what they have to do?"

"I don't care enough to ask." With a hum, Morpheus fixed the blindfold that covered the Corinthian's eyes. He couldn't have his nightmare blindfolded with a cloth tied off with a bow. It didn't scream frightening. A basic knot would do, "They are necessary for humans to work through issues while still being able to wake up, safely. The nightmares have work to do, which, by the by, shouldn't you be working on your own duties instead of bothering me while I complete mine?"

With a small whine, you stretched out your wings and flew up a few feet forward to face Morpheus. With a flick of your wrist, you gestured to the collection of fireflies that was flying next to where you had been laying, "I am working, just so you know. Do you not see my own creations? These are the hopes of children if you must know. At least, some of them anyway."

While Dream could make whatever he wanted, you had to follow a few more rules. Working for the Big Man himself, your Father, he liked everything to be exactly how he wanted. Part of that was everyone doing their jobs and if you weren't, someone might take your place. Luckily, you were in one of the irreplaceable ones, being part of the Seven Virtues. You and your siblings weren't angels, per se, you were Virtues. You were your own type of being. You were all Celestials. It was true that Angels were the most populous and visited the humans the most, but that didn't mean you were all Angels

The seven of you, the Virtues, had your individual jobs and tasks assigned to you. One of your main personal jobs was creating the essence of Hope and finding different ways of spreading it throughout Earth. Sometimes you put it in animals, sometimes you put it in plants, and sometimes it was just a certain smell. Depending on the human, hope could be found in many different things. Some could pull essence simply from the air while others needed a bit more help.

Fireflies were your favorite. They had been your own creation, the one being on this Earth that you made. Your Father allowed all seven of the Virtues to make one animal when they were old enough and you ended up creating the firefly. You based it on one of your good memories of being a young fledgling. Samael would stand over your crib and entertain you by making lights with his fingers. That was a long time ago and Samael...He wasn't Samael anymore. He fell. But, you made the fireflies in honor of that memory. You think your Father knew that and gave the little bugs a short lifespan because of it. He had been your Father's favorite and when he left, your Father took it hard. You heard Samael went by a different name now but didn't know it...You didn't know if you would ever see him again. You had a feeling that no one told you his name in fear that you would try to find him.

Being a Virtue could be difficult. They were looked at highly by the other Celestials and were expected to do the best. The only group that had any sort of authority over the Virtues were the Seven Archangels as well as Metatron. All seven of you were created just before humans, being a strange unique creation of your Father. Only seven of you existed...You weren't part of the hierarchy of Angels or the main grouping. You weren't Angels after all. The Virtues were special, just like the Endless. The biggest difference was that you lived in The Silver City and your domain itself was past the gates. Truth be told, it could be suffocating when you knew your Father had someone watching you at all times. Seven Virtues, Seven Archangels. One was always spectating.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons you spent so much time in the Dreaming. You knew your Father couldn't send anyone into their realms, a deal he had originally made with Night and Time but had apparently been passed down to their children. The first time you ever ended up in the Dreaming, you had snuck in. Well, was it sneaking in if it was an accident? Either way, that was a chaotic story for another time. For now, with a lot of hard work and determination, you had convinced Morpheus to allow you to spend time in his realm as long as you promised not to mess with anything he was doing. The tale of how you met to where you had gotten to now was a very interesting one, you had to admit that. A Virtue and an Endless being friends? Unheard of. Well, Morpheus would say it still was unheard of but you insisted the two of you were friends. You had even grown close to his sister, Death.

"Bugs?"

"You know that they are so much more than that!" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance at Morpheus' words, "I have done a good amount of work today."

"I have a feeling your siblings would care to argue otherwise."

"Well, then they can come and tell me that themselves but for now, I think that I deserve a good break."

"I swear John, if you ate all the chocolate flapjacks again!"

"I did not-!"

"John!"

"I swear, love!"

John knew what it was like to have an older sister. He would bet this was what it was like to have a younger one. Annoying, never listening to you, always bugging you for this or that. Yup, that seemed about right. He didn't get how you could already have this much energy this early in the morning. This was why he was so against you drinking coffee at any point during the day. You already were filled with enough energy for both of you. Adding any caffeine to that just made it ten times worse. He didn't need to learn that lesson more than once.

"You know I prefer a brew for breakfast." He walked into the kitchen to see you standing there, all legs and way too much optimism for the world. John could admit that you were an attractive lady and perhaps in other situations, a one-nighter might have been in the cards. But, with you under his protection and the bond forming between you two, it all changed. To be honest, Constantine couldn't remember what exactly he was protecting you from or why but knew you were in danger. You were his little buddy and he had to keep you safe. You were special to the mage, after all.

"That's a problem we'll talk about on another day." You hummed as you placed the frozen breakfast food in the toaster. He didn't understand why you liked sweets so much. He was more of a savory guy himself.

John lazily moved from where he was leaning to taking a seat at the small two-person table. Most mornings would start like this. He would drink his morning pint while you had whatever sweet treat you decided to ruin your body with that day. He would grumble whenever you tried to talk to him, spitting out some excuse of it being too early or how he had a hangover. You never listened.

"Whatever you say, darlin'."

Piling the flapjacks onto your plate once done, you made a stack of four of the sweet treats. Adding probably too much syrup than was good for you, you plopped yourself down in the seat across from John. The two of you were in a small flat in London, one that was provided to John by someone. Someone you didn't know. There was a question of whether John really knew who was paying the rent or not. At least, you were questioning it.

"Can you teach me some more today?"

"Teach you what? How to get a job and stop leeching off of me so you can go live on your own? That sounds like-"

"No! Magic, you Muppet!" Constantine couldn't help but chuckle at your pronunciation of the word. Most of the time, you sounded American, but for certain words you learned from him, well, you kept the British twang on those. It made an interesting accent and never failed to amuse John.

"Why should I? Hm?"

"Because...A demon might show up when you're asleep and I might need to defend myself." For some reason that John Constantine couldn't remember, that seemed more likely a threat than how you were saying it. It made a shiver run down his spine. It had been a nice morning until you reminded him of the danger you were in. He hated having the knowledge that for some reason, you were being hunted but by what and for what reason were still a mystery. He hated that unknowing. It made everything just that more dangerous.

"I don't know, mate. Is that a good enough reason to ruin my afternoon? I could be out at the pub, you know. Maybe finding a bird to bring back to the flat? Have a nice night with a nice lady."

"You wish!" Shoveling flapjacks in your mouth, you kicked the man under the table lightly in annoyance. A groan slipped past his lips and he set his beer on the table to keep from spilling it. He was such a drama queen at times!

"Whatever, we have to meet up with Johanna anyway." You continued, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's, "So I bet I can just ask her to teach me a few more things. She'd be happy to."

"She'd be happy to have 'ye in her bed as well! I've told ya, you need to be careful around her! Bless my sister's heart but that woman can be like a dog with two dicks. She'll teach 'ye magic alright if she thinks it might getcha in her bed at the end of the day."

Since Johanna didn't spend as much time with you, she didn't develop the same type of feelings that John did. To her, you would never be like a sibling. You always would be open for some fun. Sometimes John thought she messed with you just to get to him. He couldn't help that he was protective of you...

"You do this just to annoy me, right?" You pointed an accusatory fork in his direction, "Johanna isn't that bad. We get along great."

"I didn't say you two didn't. What I am sayin' is that she likes to play a dangerous game and trust me when I say you have enough of that in your life already."

"But, 'yer right," He continued, "Jo will be expecting us."

"What does she need help with this time?"

"An exorcism. Must be a pretty bad one too if she needs two hands on the wheel to get the bugger out. Either way, you listen to me this time, alright? No makin' more problems when we are there to fix 'em. Don't need you being cheeky on me. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear ya. No fun for me. Stay back and just watch, keep out of the way."

"Right on the money, love."

"...Wait, are we gonna be paid for this?!"

"Bloody Hell..."

"Can I bring my sand with us?!"

#the thing with feathers #the sandman #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #Morpheus x You #lord morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #destiny of the endless #death of the endless #destruction of the endless #desire of the endless #despair of the endless #delirium of the endless #delight of the endless #john constantine #johanna constantine #the corinthian

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago

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you’re my best friend ~ pete davidson

word count: 2002

request?: yes!

“pete friends to lovers”

description: in which two best friends get super sappy while drunk

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol and weed usage

masterlist (one, two)

You were already two glasses of wine deep when Pete showed up, two cases of beer in his hands. He had a look of excitement on his face, which slowly fell when he realized there was no one else in your apartment.

“Everyone else cancelled,” you answered his unasked question.

“Everyone?” Pete asked.

You nodded. “Prior commitments or just not wanting to come or some shit.”

Pete came over and plopped himself down on the couch next to you. The case of beer was at his feet and he popped it open, taking out a bottle and immediately chugging it. You looked at him in amusement as he did so. Once he was finished, you asked, “Aren’t they warm?”

“Room temperature,” he corrected.

“Isn’t that gross?”

“A little, but obviously I have to catch up with you so we can be on even playing fields all night.”

You smiled and poured yourself another glass of wine as Pete opened another beer and started to drink again.

Between the heavy amounts of alcohol and the joint that Pete had brought, the two of you had gotten fucked up in no time. At some point you couldn’t even get up off the couch for more drinks, or for water that you both knew you should be drinking. The hangover you were going to have the next day was going to be killer, but in the moment neither one of you really cared.

You were both laid back on the couch, legs intertwined as you laughed at something Pete had said. It probably wasn’t even that funny, but in your inebriated state, everything was hilarious.

“You’re, like, my bestest friend, Pete,” you slurred. “No one else even bothered the show up, but you did!”

“I’m sure everyone else had like...stuff happening,” Pete said. “Adult things like...I don’t know...kids and taxes.”

You retched at the thought. “Yeah, no, I’m good with not having those adult things to do. Having kids, while extremely cute, is also extremely exhausting. But I don’t think anyone would’ve shown. No one else really...hangs out with me anymore.”

You laid your head back so you were looking at the ceiling. You could feel a lump growing in your throat and didn’t want Pete to see if you started crying. You knew this sudden emotion was most likely caused by the alcohol and the weed, but you also knew it was something genuine, a concern you had deep down that you had never voiced to anyone before.

You could hear Pete move to sit up and immediately turned your head away so he couldn’t see your face, even though you knew that looked more suspicious than anything.

“Everyone is busy, (Y/N),” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sure they’ll be able to hang out soon enough.”

“They’re not too busy to miss out on work get togethers, or going out with one another.” You sighed. “I know people grow apart and that’s just what happens when you grow up, I just didn’t think it was going to be all of my friends growing up and drifting apart all at the one time.”

“What am I, chopped liver?”

You giggled and sat up. The room spun around you as you did so and it felt like your stomach lurched. You had to take a moment to steady yourself before focusing your attention on Pete.

“I told you, you’re my bestest friend,” you said.

Pete’s smile slowly faded as he looked at you. “(Y/N), don’t cry please.”

You had forgotten about your emotional moment entirely. You wiped your cheek to find a wet streak running from your eye to your chin. You looked away from Pete again, suddenly feeling ashamed by your needless emotions. You were glad that the two of you were so drunk in that moment and would likely forget all of this the next day.

Pete’s hand lightly touched your chin, lifting it so that you were looking at him again. You looked into his eyes as he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your other cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized how closely the two of you were sat together.

“I’ll always be here,” he assured you. “No matter how much we grow up or grow apart, I’ll always be one phone call away.”

You nodded, unable to get the words to unstick from your throat. You believed him, you knew he’d always be here.

The smell of beer and weed was strong as Pete leaned forward more, and normally you’d hate the smell combination. But you were too distracted by Pete’s eyes to notice, and a moment later you were too distracted by his lips on yours.

You had never viewed Pete as anything more than a friend before. You had grown up together. You were partners in crime since the first day you met in middle school. Your friends, and even your family, often made jokes that the two of you would end up together, but you both laughed it off. You were best friends, two peas in a pod, nothing more.

But now, with his lips moving against yours and his arms pulling you as close to him as you could get, you weren’t so sure. It could’ve been the drunken state the two of you were in, mixed with the emotions you were feeling just moments before. When the two of you sobered up the next day you may have not even remembered what happened, but in the moment you wanted all of him. You wanted his lips, his hands, his body, his heart, and you wanted to give him all of you in return.

His tongue brushed against your lips and you gladly let it in. It was wet and tasted like beer, so not the most romantic thing in the world, but it felt good in the moment. You felt like nothing could ruin what was happening, until your stomach lurched again.

You quickly pulled away from Pete and rushed to the bathroom. You didn’t even have time to kick the door closed behind you before you collapsed next to the toilet and threw up everything you had eaten and drank the past few hours. Pete followed closely behind you, pulling your hair back and gently rubbing your back. When you stopped throwing up for long enough, he got up to get you some water and made you drink it all before he did anything else.

“I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser,” he joked. You glared at him over your shoulder before throwing up again.

Once you felt steady enough, Pete helped you to your feet. You brushed your teeth and took a mouthful of mouthwash in order to get rid of the taste of vomit. Pete helped you to your bedroom, where he had another glass of water and an Aspirin waiting for you.

“You’ll need that in the morning,” he said. “I’ll let you get changed.”

“You’ll stay with me though, right?” you asked. Suddenly you hated the thought of Pete having to leave.

He smiled. “Of course I will. I just want to give you some privacy while you change. You’re not supposed to see a girl naked till, like, the third date.”

You smiled back at him, a fuzzy feeling building inside of you at the thought of actually going on a date with Pete.

You changed into a pair of comfy pajamas and downed the glass of water Pete had left for you. You ventured out of your room to the kitchen to pour up another glass. You found Pete putting the bottles of beer in the recycling container and putting your glass in the sink.

“Why aren’t you as fucked up as I am right now?” you questioned.

“I could always handle my booze better than you,” he teased. You scowled and stuck your tongue out at him. He chuckled and put an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

After some convincing, Pete agreed to join you in bed. At first he laid a respectable distance away from you, but you moved close to him and placed your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your hair as your eyes became too heavy to stay open.

“You’ll regret this in the morning,” he murmured. “Or forget it completely.”

“Maybe,” you said, “but let’s wait for the morning to decide that.”

~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning you groaned in pain. Your head felt heavy and like it had been stabbed by multiple little needles. You opened your eyes but had to shut them again immediately, hissing at the pain that small action caused.

Why the fuck did I drink so much last night? you questioned as you braced yourself and opened your eyes again.

You found yourself alone in bed, which didn’t seem too unusual until you remembered that you hadn’t been alone when you fell asleep. Pete had been there, more specifically he had been cuddling you.

You’ll regret this in the morning, you recalled him saying before you drifted off to sleep. You wondered if he had left before you had the chance to decide how you felt about the events of the night before.

You popped two Aspirin pills into your mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. You pulled yourself out of bed and slowly walked out of your room, the only speed you could manage in this state. You were halfway to your kitchen when you realized you were smelling something; bacon. You wondered where the smell was coming from, and didn’t have to look far to get the answer.

Pete was stood by your stove, two plates full of eggs and toast already sat next to him. When he heard you enter, he turned and greeted you with a smile.

“Good morning sleeping beauty!” he said. His loud voice pierced your ears and you quickly covered them and groaned. He chuckled. “You poor thing, you’re gonna hate today.”

“I already do,” you said. “Is that for me?”

He looked down at the plate of breakfast. “One of them is, yeah. Do you think you can keep it down?”

“I can try.”

The two of you sat at your dining room table and began to eat. Although your stomach still didn’t feel right, the food was definitely soaking up whatever alcohol was left in your system and thus was making the splitting headache you had subside just a little bit.

There was an awkward silence looming over the two of you. Despite what you thought the night before, you could still remember every detail; the emotional conversation, the kiss, the cuddling, how you felt when the latter two things were happening. You knew Pete remembered because he certainly wasn’t as fucked up as you were.

“Do you regret it?” you found yourself suddenly asking.

Pete looked up from his breakfast, fake confusion on his face. “What do you mean?”

You gave him a look. “Pete, I remember last night. I remember what we did, and what you said before I fell asleep.”

He sighed, turning his attention back to his food. “I don’t know...do you regret it?”

“I don’t,” you admitted. “If anything, I...I feel whatever the opposite of regret is. The only thing I regret is getting so drunk I threw up after we kissed.”

He smiled. “Yeah, that’s not exactly great timing.”

You looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Finally, he looked up at you again and said, “I don’t regret it either.”

“So what do we do now?” you asked.

Pete thought for a moment before saying, “I take you out on a date, one where we’re both completely sober, and we decide if we really want to do this. How does that sound?”

You smiled brightly at him. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”

#Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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wreckmetoji · 4 years ago

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idfc

An ongoing fic in which you don't realize you have both Fushiguros at your feet.

↳ Toji Fushiguro/Reader ↳ Minor elements of Megumi Fushiguro/Reader Part 1/?

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

content warning. mentions of alcohol, profanity, minor angst, unrequited love, age gap, eventual smut This is part one of a several part story revolving around smut. **Minors DNI**

Length 1.5k words

A fun night resulting in a drunken mistake. That's all this was, right? The shock and humiliation upon waking up completely naked in a bed that wasn't your own is what immediately clouded your mind. Sitting up, you held your head in a desperate attempt to subdue the vicious pounding, face scrunched in pain. You had gone out for drinks with Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi, but you must have been blackout for half the evening. That's the only reasonable assumption, considering you didn't know where you were or how you got here. Really, what and how much did I drink last night? With one last squeeze of your head to get your bearings, you slowly opened her eyes, looking around the room in hopes of gathering your clothes as quickly as possible and getting the fuck out. Whoever owned this room probably didn't want their one night stand to overstay their welcome either. Wait.... You knew this room. You knew it like the back of her hand. No, no way. "Oh, you're awake." There's no fucking way. The resounding 'click' of the door closing behind the familiar figure made your stomach drop. You went pale, much to his dismay. He didn't show it. "Look, we don't... we don't have to-" "Megumi, what the fuck happened?" Deep blue eyes bore into your own, what was that look he was giving you? What was he to expect? The two of you had been attached at the hip since the end of high school, you were close, but not like this. Your panicked eyes followed his movements, watching him step towards you and sit on the edge of the bed. You instinctually pulled the dark duvet higher, making sure you were covering anything that may have been exposed. "It seems things got a little out of hand last night, I don't know how else to say this." "Did we actually, like... sleep with each other?" When he didn't say anything, didn't even react, seconds seemed to turn into minutes. 'No, I cleaned you up because you threw up everywhere. That's really why you're naked'. That must have been- "Yes." "Like, we had sex?" ".... Yes." Your head pounded in protest of the answer you didn't want to hear. He was like a brother to you, how did this happen? Megumi extended his hand, placing the pills he had brought on the bed beside you, catching the subtle shift of you pulling the blanket up higher out of the corner of his eye. "I'll give you some space. I folded your clothes, they're on top of my dresser. After you're done maybe we can... talk about this. Take your time," He exhaled the last of his sentence, standing up and leaving the room again. You hadn't ever gotten dressed that fast in your life. You didn't even bother with your bra and underwear, simply carrying them in the crook of your arm. Rushed footsteps came to a screeching halt when met with a tall broad form blocking the hallway. Toji seemed to be just as confused as you, viridescent eyes darting between your very disheveled appearance, your smeared makeup, and the undergarments you held in your hands. You couldn't tell by his expression, or lack thereof, but you made the safe assumption he came to the conclusion of what had transpired the second he saw you. "I'm sorry Mister Fushiguro, pardon me," You politely excused yourself, squeezing by him and running down the stairs. In one swift motion you had picked up your shoes, swung the front door open, and firmly closed it behind you, leaving nothing but an uncomfortable silence in the Fushiguro household. It took you a while to get home, not stopping for a second to even put your shoes on just in case someone were to run after you. You had no doubts Megumi would. The jingling of your keys, the click of the lock, and the loud slam of the door behind you is what finally set you off. The rest of your day was spent in self loathing, crying, tylenol, and regular trips in and out of the bathroom to empty the nothingness in your stomach. Only as the sun was setting, orange and dark blue painting the sky, did you decide you needed to text Megumi about what happened. That was, if you had your phone. "Are you KIDDING me?!" You grumbled to yourself, flipping over cushions, digging through the clothes you had worn last night, scouring every surface. You must have left it at his house. His room. Newfound humiliation washed over you, knowing that you would have to see him face to face. Knock knock. Jumping at the sudden sound, you looked over to the door with wide inquisitive eyes. Did Misses Kageyama lose her cat again? You tiptoed over to the door, having to stand on your toes to look through the peephole. Today is so shit, you thought to yourself, unlocking and opening your door, but not removing the deadbolt. You peered at the tall man on the other side, warily looking up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, that's the reaction I was expecting," Toji sneered, holding out a familiar cellular device. "Kid said you might want this back." You slipped your much smaller hand through the door, grabbing onto it and tugging. Once you realized he wasn't going to let go, you let out an exasperated sigh, closing your eyes and leaning your forehead on the back of the door. "How did you get past the door-man? You didn't buzz up." "I didn't give him a choice." Toji mused, the side of his lips twitching up. "So are you gonna stand here with my phone hostage all night? Or can I close my door." You were visibly agitated. He was obviously sent here for a reason, but with how amused he seemed at your grumpy exterior you couldn't imagine he was here on behalf of defending Megumi. His lack of response was all you needed, knowing how stubborn he was. One dejected sigh and adjustment of the deadbolt later, Toji was pushing himself through and headed for the kitchen. Make yourself at home, you rolled your eyes at his intrusive behavior. "He wanted to come by and give it to you, but I told him it'd probably be better if I did it," Toji explained upon reaching the kitchen island, leaning against it and patting a bar stool. Begrudgingly, you shuffle over and sit down. Toji always had a rocky relationship with his son, and you knew this. Megumi once told you to think of Toji is more of an older friend than a parental figure, since he's really not good at that. With that mindset, being around him became significantly less tense, giving you room to express yourself freely. "You looked like shit leaving the house this morning." "You can leave now." Toji put the phone down, sliding it towards you on the granite countertop. "Look, I'm not here to judge what you kids are or aren't doing, all I'm saying," He paused, eyes never leaving yours, "Is that you didn't seem very happy with your decision." "Actually, it seems like you regret it a lot." He was right. You knew he was right, if you could go back in time right now and even prevent yourself from going out with everyone, you would do it in a heartbeat. You felt disgusted in yourself, this was akin to having sex with a sibling for you. Even though you didn't say anything, the expression you held and the way you chewed the inside of your cheek spoke volumes. Toji didn't seem to miss that. "In my experience," He broke the silence, "The best way to get over regrettable sex is to have unregrettable sex." Your eyes locked with his, throat suddenly becoming dry. "Where was that keen parenting when you were raising Megumi?" You meant to sound bitter, but it came out as a whisper. He chuckled at your meek attempt to halt the conversation. He decided to ignore it. "I'm giving you a line, it's up to you if you wanna grab it or not." He leaned back over the counter as he spoke, hand coming down to your knee and inching, painstakingly slowly, up your leg. "If I know anything-" "Do you?" He gripped your thigh, it must have been hard enough to bruise, but the look in his eye was more dangerous than his hands. Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, heart racing and God you hoped he couldn't hear it. "I'm an expert at fucking," Toji's tone dropped, viridescent eyes drinking in your flustered appearance, but stopping at where his hand was on your upper thigh. His grip loosened, gently caressing the skin there. "After I'm done with you, Megumi'll be the last thing on your mind. You want to feel good?" Everything that had happened today, all of your regrets, all your frustration, your humiliation, came crashing down on you, it fogged your mind. Toji was undeniably attractive, you've known that since the moment you met him. If you do this, there's no turning back. "What do you think?" He pressed, his hand moving up to the seam of your shorts. Fuck it. "What... did you have in mind?" The predatory grin that split his face made you surge with fear and delight, watching his scar pull taught in the most deliciously tantalizing way. "Why don't I show you?"

#toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #reader insert #jjk toji #jjk smut #minors do not interact #toji thirst #daddy toji #anime smut #anime x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro

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animeomegas · 4 years ago

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Omega!Obey Me characters forgetting a mating anniversary

Anon: reactions to their alpha missing an anniversary? or you could switch it and do reactions to realizing they forgot an anniversary. either or !

Anon part 2: hi! i’m the anon from the anniversary request. i was thinking maybe the obey me! fandom? whichever characters you like. my exams are coming to an end so i’m looking forward to spending hours on that app during the summer 😤😤 i hope you’re doing well ! 💕

(Hey hey!! I’m going to do their reactions to forgetting a mating anniversary, because they’ve been alive a long time, I imagine it would happen at least one hehe. Let’s see~)

Warnings: Mention of sex in Asmo’s section

Lucifer – He denies it at first. He can’t have forgotten, he would never forget something so important, you must have the date wrong. His response is very likely to make his alpha either more angry or more upset, and he inadvertently blows the whole thing out of proportion because he struggles to admit that he’s wrong. But when he realises that he is wrong? That he was so caught up in paperwork for Diavolo he did forget? It’s a hard pill to swallow. He would probably buy his alpha some expensive flowers as an apology of sorts, but unless he’s been in a relationship with his alpha for several hundred years, I don’t see him directly apologising. He does feel guilty, but he really finds it hard to articulate. The upside is that it’s extremely unlikely that he’ll ever do it again. He’s checking four times every week at least now that he hasn’t missed any important dates by mistake.

“Our anniversary is next week, my beloved, you must have confused the dates.”

Mammon – Mammon metaphorically shits himself when he realises he forgot an anniversary. His scent is pure, unadulterated panic. His first instinct is to plan an anniversary event that moment. Hell’s Kitchen must still be open right? He tries to pull his alpha with him right that second. If that doesn’t work, he starts to panic that he’s ruined the most important thing in his life. This is when the begging starts. He says sorry about a hundred times, will get on his knees, offer whatever you want as long as you forgive him. Mammon is actually a very compassionate person who doesn’t like upsetting his loved ones, so it’s very hard to stay mad at him. Unfortunately, he’s not great at keeping track of dates, so it might happen again. The best thing to do is organise something together and give him a few reminders when that date’s coming up.

“Oh shit! Er, Hell’s Kitchen is still open right?? I’ll buy you whatever you want, we’ll order one of everything, does that work?”

Leviathan – He almost certainly forgets because of some game event or new releases. And to make everything worse, at first he acts like the game and event was more important than the anniversary and he thinks it’s a legitimate excuse that you can’t argue with. He realises pretty quickly after the event finishes that he’s completely alone because you’re mad at him. He turns to tell you everything about the game but you don’t want to listen to him?? He sulks in his room for a while. What pushes him to apologise is when he sees you hanging out with other people instead of him. He growls away the other person, pulling you into his room and sobbing angrily against you, asking why you love other people more than him. He apologises then, desperate to have his best friend and lover back with him. He might do it again, but he learns pretty quickly to just communicate when he wants to partake in a special gaming event and then he never forgets again.

“W-Why don’t you love m-me, like you l-love him?! I’m sorry, p-please don’t leave!”

Satan – He feels guilty, but he handles it well. He is phenomenal at apology dates. He organises the perfect romantic date, taking into consideration his alpha’s likes and integrating them. If you have a favourite romantic novel, you know he’s going to recreate a date scene with you. If you have a favourite restaurant, he’s booked the best table and ordered a bouquet of your favourite flowers for the centrepiece. It’s very hard to stay mad at Satan, especially because it’s very out of character for him to forget a date so important.

“If you want any more drinks, just let me know. I want you to enjoy this evening as much as possible.”

Asmodeus – He also deals with it fairly well, even if he can’t believe that he forgot! He’s honest and upfront about forgetting and expresses regret. He will definitely try to seduce you as an apology though, offering to let you do whatever you want to him. If that doesn’t work, next step is a joint pampering session! He’s pretty good at conveying a genuine apology without making anything too dramatic. I think it’s unlikely that he would do it again, because he loves, loves, loves anniversaries!!! He genuinely can’t believe that he forgot because he normally plans everything months in advance.

“Oh! I can’t believe that I… Oh dear, here come to my room and let me make it up to you…”

Beelzebub – He’s heartbroken that he forgot! He is so upset. He apologises immediately, looking like he’s on the verge of tears, and he asks you to tell him what he needs to do to make it up to you. He doesn’t offer up solutions, he wants his alpha to pick something, so he knows they’ll enjoy it. The only thing he definitely does immediately, is offer whatever food he’s been saving for them to share with him while they discuss. He will likely ask for advice from some of his brothers, probably Belphie (who doesn’t help) and Asmo (who’s slightly more helpful). He may do it again, but he always tries his hardest to make your anniversaries as special as he can.

“Here, you can have my ice cream… I’m really sorry… What can I do?”

Belphegor – He doesn’t think it’s a big deal that he forgot, because you can both just rearrange it, right? I think it’s pretty unlikely that his alpha takes kindly to that opinion. It takes Belphie a little while to realise that a) he’s in the wrong and b) he needs to apologise. He’s not good at planning, but when he genuinely puts his mind to it, he’s actually pretty good at giving gifts. He buys something you’ve been wanting for a while, he might even put a sticky bow on top if you’re upset enough. He gives you the gift while mumbling apologies. The second you forgive him, he drags you to take a nap with him because he hasn’t been sleeping well since you’ve been mad at him. He’s pretty likely to do it again at least a few times, but he learns not to be such a dick about it eventually.

“Oh, I guess I must have forgot… We can just go tomorrow; I want to take a nap.”

Diavolo – He is gutted that he forgot. He organises the most extravagant apology dinner possible (which is pretty extravagant, because he’s a king, very dramatic, and very in love all at once). He gives a dramatic speech about how there’s no excuse, how he never wants you to think he doesn’t value your relationship etc. At this point, I imagine most people would be begging him to chill out and promising that they already forgave him. Either way, I don’t think it would ever happen again, especially because he tells all of his staff to remember your anniversary and always remind him the week before. He isn’t going to let this happen again.

“My love, I will never forgive myself for hurting you in this way. I will never stop trying to make it up to you, even if it takes me a millennium.”

Barbatos – This would never happen. He is amazing at keeping organisational data in his brain, especially data that means so much to him. Also, he can see the future, so, even if by some miracle he did forget, he would see your future reaction and know in advance that he forgot. Barbatos isn’t perfect, but he’s not one to forget important dates.

Simeon – Simeon is another one who is heartbroken that he’s treated his most beloved one this way. He feels awful. He does tear up a little bit if the relationship is old enough. Simeon makes a huge effort to create some adorable picnic date, cooking baskets and baskets of food and picking the most beautiful park. He brings flowers and bunting and a little cake that he ices with an apology in an unbelievably cute handwriting style. It’s very, very hard not to forgive him when he’s so apologetic and good at making you smile. He goes out of his way to make sure he never upsets his alpha in this way again.

“My beloved, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I will seek to make it up to you for as long as you’ll let me.”

Solomon – He doesn’t care that much about anniversaries but he’s not dumb enough (like some other people on this list *cough*) to think that saying that to your face is a good idea. He definitely tries to play it off as though he had something planned all along and that making you think he forgot was part of the plan. He then scrambles to plan things last minute, and he’s quite good at covering up his mistake. If his alpha doesn’t believe him, he makes up for his mistake with expensive and rare gifts. He will find something special for his alpha. A first edition copy of your favourite book or limited edition merchandising of your favourite media, something like that. He knows the excitement will help dull any negative emotions you have towards him. I could definitely see him doing it multiple times, but if his alpha ever expressed genuine hurt long-term about that particular habit, he would readjust his priorities. He’s not a complete asshole after all, he just sometimes has a hard time pulling his head out of said asshole.

“Here, it took me three days to track down someone who had a copy, but I finally found a first edition for you. I hope you will accept this as a token of my apology, my dearest.”

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fantasy2739 · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt idea: Jamie and a woman he has a one night stand with have a pregnancy scare. He's really worried about being a bad father (the sad part), so he insists on taking care of one of those RealCare baby dolls that cry and hijinks ensue (the funny part).

Okay so I had to google what a RealCare baby is because we don’t really use them where I am (or we do and I’ve just never seen one). So the accuracy is definitely a no.

Jamie stares at Amy like she’s grown a second head.

“You’re what?” He croaks. She purses her lips.

“I said, I might be pregnant.” She repeats. They’re sat in Jamie’s house, which he is eternally grateful for because he’s pretty sure he almost spat juice everywhere. “My periods late and my stomach has been feeling shitty.” Jamie cringes a little at that because what the fuck is he supposed to say.

“But we used a condom.” He says, it’s almost a whine. Amy sighs.

“They’re only so effective.” She says.

“And you’re not like, on the pill?” He asks, wary that he might be crossing some line. Amy shakes her head and Jamie nods, because fair enough. “What do we do then?” Amy considers it for a moment.

“I’m gonna get one of those fancy tests that tells you early and then we’ll go from there.” She says. The look she gives him is almost pitying. “I just wanted to let you know, cause there isn’t really anyone else I can tell.” Jamie nods and insists that he pay for the test. Amy smiles at him and tells him she’ll text him. Jamie sees her out and goes to curl up on the sofa. He’s mulling over what happens if Amy is actually pregnant. Do they keep the baby? Do they not? He can’t force Amy to do either. He wraps his arm around a cushion and stares at the wall.

He’d be a shit dad.

Well no, maybe not. He doesn’t actually know. But then he doesn’t have the best idea of being a dad. His dad is a piece of shit. What if they keep the baby and he’s shit with them? What if they don’t like him?

What if he hurts them?

Jamie grips the cushion tighter. He’s terrified. He’s breathing faster and he’s scared of this child that may not even be a thing. How the fuck is he supposed to be a parent if he’s freaking out over the idea of one? He spends the next couples of days pacing back and forth, mulling it all over in his mind.

He’d hurt his kid.

He doesn’t want to be like his father.

He hopes he’s like his mum.

He doesn’t know if he can break the cycle.

Amy’s text is a blessing.

‘Hi Jamie, I took two tests to be sure, both negative! Thanks Amy X.’

Jamie feels so relieved he nearly cries. He’s been teetering on the edge of uncertainty for too long. He shakes it off, sends Amy a quick thanks, and tries to forget.

Except he can’t.

Now that he’s thought he could be having a kid he’s almost desperate to prove he wouldn’t be shit. Or at least he’d like to know. So after an hour of googling he ends up order a fucking RealCare baby. He’s never regretted a purchase so quickly. But it’s too late now. He needs to know.

Okay so maybe he shouldn’t have turned up to Richmond with the fucking baby but he’s supposed to treat it like an actual baby.

“Why the fuck do you have a fake baby?” Roy asks like Jamie has just personally caused every problem Roy has ever had. Jamie doesn’t know what to say, so he shrugs and puts the baby, who he’s named Babs, on the bench. “Jamie, seriously what the fuck?”

“It is cute.” Sam says. “But also very creepy.” Isaac is moving from side to side.

“It’s eyes are like following me.” He says. Ted comes out to see what the commotion is about and he sees Babs.

“Well who’s this little cutie?” He asks. Jamie smirks.

“Babs.” He says. “It’s one of them RealCare baby things.” Ted is all smiles.

“Reminds me of high school, take a bag of flour home, treat it like a baby.” He says. He pauses and looks at Jamie with wide eyes. “You’re having a baby?” Jamie shakes his head.

“Had a… scare.” He admits. “Wanted to try it out.” There’s silence and then.

“So have you brought lots of clothes?”

“Let me hold the baby.”

“Does it cry all the time?”

“Do you have to feed it and shit?”

“Can I be the fun uncle?” Jamie blinks a few times and smirks.

“I want Babs to have good role models. So none of you fucks.” He says. “Except maybe Ted and maybe Sam.” Sam grins. “Roy you can be Babs’ great grandad since you’re fucking old enough.” Roy growls but there’s a softness in his eyes. Jamie picks Babs up and cradles her gently. He steps towards Ted, who has his arms ready in a second.

“Cute as a button.” Ted says as he holds her.

“Takes after her mum then.” Bumbercatch jokes. Jamie sticks his tongue out at him.

“Oh hush now.” Ted says. “I think it’s real great you’re doing this Jamie.” Jamie shrugs and takes Babs back. He crooks his arms around her and cradles her. He makes a cooing face. There’s a flash and someone has definitely snapped a picture. Jamie flips them off and goes back to his baby. Some of the team are leaning off his shoulder.

“Oi, we still have training to do.” Roy reminds them.

“We can’t leave her in the locker room.” Colin says. “She’ll get hurt.” There’s murmurs of agreement.

“Fucking fine, I’ll hold her while you all practice.” Roy caves. Jamie smirks.

“Here Babs, say hello to your great grandad.” He says, carefully handing her over. Roy takes her and it must be a trick of the light because he almost looks sweet. “Be good yeah, he’s too old to do things quickly.” Roy glares but cuddles Babs close. They go out and practice. When Dani scored he runs over to Babs and holds her up.

“That one of for you chiquita mia.” He says. Roy’s rolling his eyes but Jamie thinks it’s great. Babs has a special place in all their hearts

The next day he turns up sleep deprived but oddly pleased. Babs had cried all night. Jamie had tried everything he could think of; changing, feeding, holding. He had been annoyed but he’d also been scared. He was so worried about what might be wrong with Babs and he just wanted to make it better. Sitting up on his bedroom floor, cradling Babs gently to his chest he realised he hadn’t once thought about yelling at her or hitting her. So he was smiling as he strolled in. He was met by an avalanche of people.

“Look, we got Babs her own little kit!” Issac said, thrusting a bag at Jamie.

“I made her something.” Bumbercatch says, holding out a beautiful red and blue scarf. Jamie smiles widely, it’s all very sweet. Sam comes forward with a little blanket that he wraps around Babs. There’s a little noise of contentment and the room aw’s

“I just want to check, we do know that it’s a fake baby?” Nate asks, almost timidly. They all look at him. “Right, okay, yep, Babs is adorable Jamie.” Jamie rocks her slightly and they’re rewarded with more cute noises.

“You look tired.” Jan says, blunt as ever.

“Fatherhood, keeps you on your toes.” Jamie says with a shrug. The day dissolves into different teammates stealing Babs to play. Jamie catches Colin and Issac gently cooing over her in the boot room. Bumbercatch wraps her in her scarf and takes a million photos. Zoreaux and Dani run around with her, showing her Richmond like it’s a fucking museum. Even Jan caves and hugs her close for twenty minutes, telling everyone it’s comforting.

Babs stays with Jamie for another week. Despite how tired he is at the end of it he knows he’ll do anything for his kid. He’s not ready to be a dad yet, way too busy. But it’s reassuring to know he won’t be completely shit.

And he knows the team will be there, every step of the way.

#fanfiction #ted lasso tv #ted lasso #jamie tartt #realcare baby #pregnancy #pregnancy scare #sam obisanya #Colin Hughes #isaac mcadoo #jan maas #thierry zoreaux #Roy Kent #this is a team of himbos #it takes a village #fear of being a parent

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dawnsbreaking · 3 years ago

Text

total dark sublime

chapter five poe route rewrite pairing: poe colestead x cmc rose status: ongoing chapter wc: 2,452

She tucked her hands under her cheek and watched him expectantly as he covered her with the blanket, making it clear that she was waiting for him to speak. Her eyes looked so tired, Poe felt equally flattered and frustrated that she wanted to stay awake just to pry his thoughts from him. He wasn’t sure if anyone had ever cared that much what he was thinking.

read on ao3 series masterlist want to be tagged when the next chapter is released?

Poe closed his aunt’s door behind him. He needed a moment alone.

Before he had met Howie and Tess and inadvertently started the apocalypse, Poe had been quite lonely. Sharing an apartment with Douglas had made it a pain to invite people over, which had been a good excuse for him to not put effort into making friends. And until just a few days ago, Rose had just been an acquaintance, a crush that he had a few classes with.

As grateful as he was to have people with him now, he could not help but feel light in this moment of peace.

He took a seat on the edge of his aunt’s unmade bed, stomach sinking with fear and grief for her. With every passing moment, it became more possible that she was gone — killed by a zombie or worse. She should have come back home and hung her dog’s leash on the hook by the door and come back to her room. She should have made her bed, taken the pills in the daily pill organizer on her bedside, answered her phone when Poe called for help. He felt his eyes welling with tears and shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut to stop himself from crying. He had to find Rose a toothbrush and go to bed. Lack of sleep was making him feel more emotional than usual.

In the cabinet underneath Aunt Lynn’s bathroom sink, in a little clear box, she kept unopened containers of her favorite toiletries and makeup products. It made Poe’s heart ache to see the box right where it always was. His aunt was frugal, despite having enough money not to be, and always bought extra things when they were on sale or when she had coupons for them. This careful shopping resulted in a small surplus of odds and ends: toothbrushes, toothpaste, her favorite berry red lipstick — the one she wore to church and lunch dates with her friends. He took two twin packs of toothbrushes and two of the bottles of toothpaste. As he closed the cabinet, he said a silent prayer to the universe for his aunt. May she return home safe and live to use up every single tube of lipstick in her cabinet.

“It’s your lucky day,” Poe said, throwing one of the toothbrush packs at Howie on the couch.

Howie startled slightly at Poe’s intrusion but recovered in an instant, giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight.”

Poe managed to return a sad smile. “Night.”

When Poe returned to Rose, he found her sitting with her legs crossed in his bed, thumbing through his copy of Frankenstein. He stopped in the doorway, smiling at the sight of her. “Sorry it took so long,” he said.

She looked up from the book and grinned. “Your annotations kept me occupied.”

“Oh god,” he laughed, “I annotated that in high school.”

“And you were very astute.” She read aloud in a stilted voice, “Fire motif references story of Prometheus question mark.”

“Alright, alright…” He exaggerated rolling his eyes. “I hope you weren’t snooping the whole time I was gone.”

“I wasn’t,” she said. “This was just on top of one of those stacks.” She gestured with the open book towards the mess of books on his desk, again making him wish he’d been more careful in keeping his room tidy the last time he visited. He had a lot of reasons to regret the last time he visited, all things considered.

She closed the book and set it gently on his bedside table. “Did you find a toothbrush?”

They tiptoed to the bathroom, though Tess probably wouldn’t wake regardless. Poe held the door open for Rose and followed her in, switching on the light before closing the door.

Brushing their teeth together felt strangely intimate to Poe. It also felt a little like playing house. He watched her squeeze toothpaste carefully and run her toothbrush under a tiny stream of water before she handed him the toothpaste back.

When he kept studying her instead of taking the bottle, she made a little sound and raised her eyebrows at him in question, the toothbrush already in her mouth and preventing her from speaking.

“Sorry,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Thinking again.” He ran the sink again and loaded his own brush.

She watched him in the mirror while he brushed his teeth, her gray eyes narrowed at him. She spat and rinsed her mouth. “Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking about?”

He was thankful for the mouthful of toothpaste giving him a few more moments of easy avoidance. Once he’d given it up and rinsed his mouth, he said, “Let’s go to bed.”

She gave him a look.

“To talk,” he clarified. He reached out and wiped a stray bit of toothpaste from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “I promise.”

By the time he had undressed to just his stupid ghost boxers (Rose approved, at least) and climbed into bed, holding the covers back for her to join him, he had gathered his thoughts. As hard as it was for him to open up, it was harder for Poe to see Rose frown at him.

“I’m worried I’m going to disappoint you,” he whispered, hearing the words ring truer than he’d intended. “Actually, in general I’m afraid of that. But I really wasn’t upset before.”

“Why would I be disappointed?” She asked, voice equally soft.

“Because you want me to talk and I don’t have that much to say.”

She frowned. “No, in general.”

“Oh.” He scrunched his brows. “I worry that you see me through —“ He smiled at the coincidence of his word choice. “Rose-colored glasses. That the more I let you in, the more you’ll realize that you made a mistake.”

A smile crossed her lips, and Poe was grateful for it even if it confused him. “I… developed feelings for you after I got to know you, Poe.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a nice way of saying that you disliked me at first?”

She grinned a bit wider, her eyes crinkling and her nose scrunching. “I thought you were stuck up and a know-it-all.”

“I am stuck up.” He tried to keep his voice serious but her grin was contagious. “And a know-it-all.”

“You’re…” She blushed, moving a hand to cover her mouth, and spoke through slightly parted fingers, “I like those things about you, now.”

“Oh yeah?” His hand found her waist under the covers and pinched. Insecurity melted away seeing her cheeks turn pink. He teased, “How does that work?”

Both of her hands covered her face now as she giggled. “It’s the confidence, I think? It’s…” She trailed off.

He pressed his hand to her back and pulled her closer. He could feel her breathing on his chest as she tucked her chin down to hide her face. “It’s what?” He asked, leaning lips close to her neck, feeling her shiver beneath his arm.

After a beat, she looked up at him and parted her hands. She squared her jaw and said, “I think your confidence is hot, which makes it all the more insufferable.”

It was his turn to blush, feeling his face warm at her sudden boldness and at the surprise of her words. He was not the type of man to let someone else have the last word, however. “Is it insufferable when I do this?” He pressed a kiss beneath her ear and then opened his mouth, letting his tongue graze her soft skin.

She hummed. “Yes and no.”

Only just moving his mouth away he asked, “Yes?”

“Yes.” She took a steadying breath. “Because no one has ever made me feel that way. Like I’m not in control. Like butterflies in my stomach,” she said. “I thought that was a euphemism before I met you.”

“Oh.” He pulled back and studied her. “Really?” She had accidentally beaten him in his own game and given him pause. That was a last word, a mic drop moment.

Her eyes betrayed no sign that she was lying or flattering him on purpose, just her usual wide, searching gaze. Like she was trying to see all of him, even the parts he kept hidden. He had dated other people before, really liked some people before, and he’d assumed the same of her. She seemed so full of love for everyone, it felt incongruous to him that she might not fall for people easily.

“I’m serious,” she said, finally. “Also, don’t change the subject.”

“Change the subject?” He thought he’d gotten away with it.

“Please tell me what you were thinking earlier.”

“You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”

She shook her head.

“I was frowning because I was trying not to think about you changing clothes.”

Eyes widening with surprise, she giggled again. After a pause, she asked, “Did it… Work?”

He tucked her into his chest and put his chin on her crown so that he could look over her head and not into her eyes. “Kind of. But then I turned around and you were wearing my shirt and…” He was digging himself into a hole.

Rose wiggled herself free from his arms and met his gaze again. Her cheeks were pink but she had a teasing smirk on her lips and a glint in her eyes. She said nothing, waiting for him to continue digging.

“Feels very stereotypical to say but you wearing my clothes…” His hand drifted lower as he spoke, landing on her bare thigh. “The t-shirt did something to me.”

As an answer, she placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him down into a slow kiss. Her lips moved carefully like she was afraid she’d scare him away. He grinned against her lips. Could she really be that clueless?

He squeezed the flesh of her thigh before breaking the kiss. He said, “Rose.”

She blinked, a worried look on her face. “Was that okay?”

“Was it?” Poe chuckled. “You’re kidding, right?”

She blinked again, shook her head. She whispered, “I guess I’m just nervous. I never…” She shook her head again, changed tact. “I’m not used to feeling like I have a reason to be nervous.”

He frowned, furrowed his brows, waited for her to elaborate. He didn’t understand.

“I just…” She sighed and buried her face in his chest. He felt her soft voice on his skin when she said, “I don’t know if you like me or if you’re just humoring me.”

“That’s…” Poe blinked. “That was not what I expected to hear.” He threaded his hands through her hair, fingers getting tangled in her soft curls. “I can’t imagine how I could make it clearer,” he said. “That I do really like you.”

She remained still, not saying anything. He leaned back, making her look at him again. Her stormy eyes were cloudier than usual.

“You know how you didn’t like me at first?” He asked.

She let out a breathy laugh. “Yes?”

“That wasn’t the case for me,” Poe admitted. “I liked you pretty much from the moment we met.”

She flattened her mouth into a thin line. Then, “I don’t believe you.”

“I had perfect attendance in that class because I never wanted to miss hearing you speak,” he said. “I thought you were so smart and funny… I used to tell Douglas about you.”

A surprised look cut through the clouds in her eyes. “Your roommate?”

Poe nodded. “He’d be playing Call of Duty or whatever with headphones on, totally ignoring me, and I’d stand in the living room saying, ‘Rose wore a green dress today and asked me what I thought about the reading.’ or ‘Rose asked for a pen today, do you think she likes me?’ All the time. Because I just needed someone to know how I felt.”

Rose searched his eyes. “Could I get zombie Douglas to verify?”

Poe laughed. “Probably not, he never listened.”

“Convenient,” Rose said, rolling her eyes. “How am I supposed to believe you now?”

“I’m not a liar, Rosie.” Poe surprised himself with the steady, earnest tone of his voice. He sounded as serious as he felt, too serious. Always too serious. He let his hands move back down, grazing her waist before placing his palms flat on the curve of her ass. Pressing her closer, he could feel her heart beating against his bare chest. “I thought you said you trusted me,” he said, a whisper against her lips. He hadn’t forgotten. The intimacy of her trust in him filled him with longing to be the person she trusted most. It made him want to be allowed into her bed to hold her every night. To be trusted was to be known like no one had cared to know him before.

He kissed her, held her, felt dizzy at her cool hands finding the nape of his neck. She kissed him, pressed back with equal intensity to his, allowed herself to have him.

When she finally pulled away, it was not to retreat. Her long hair made a curtain around her face and tickled his chest as she propped herself up on an arm to kiss his neck. Again, he watched her search for his freckles, seeing her find them more easily after having had some practice. He almost made a joke again, but a tiny bite just under his jaw made Poe gasp and forget his snark.

“We should really get some sleep.” She bowed her head and kissed his chest, finding a freckle there too.

“You’re right,” Poe managed.

“Turn off the light?”

Poe swallowed, nodded, reached behind her to press the switch on the bedside lamp. Rose kissed his shoulder as it angled towards her. She pressed a hand to his chest and settled into his arms.

“Is this okay?” She asked. “Can you sleep like this?”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I think I’ll manage.”

Holding Rose in his arms made him feel secure enough that his need for sleep hit him again. His eyes drifted shut of their own accord.

“Goodnight, Poe.” She placed a feather-light kiss to his collarbone.

He imagined her smiling face in the pitch-black room. Total dark sublime. “Goodnight.”

thank you so much to everyone who has read this and commented, your kind words keep me going i swear!! also the nh discord has Poe brainrot lately and i'm obsessed with it i love him i love him. if you're on my taglist or send me kind words about this story i love u just as much <3

tags: @1loveyou @dreamtydraw @anisanka

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omg-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

All We Are

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: V is jealous after Johnny’s date with Rogue, which leads to an honest discussion about where they both stand.

Words: 1.7k

Warning: spoilers for Blistering Love side job, a little angst

A/N: Requested by an anon. This may be a bit different than what you were expecting, but I was in the feels™. Hope you still enjoy :)

Also, can we please talk about how adorable he looks in the gif??

The long drive back to the apartment was silent; the utter stillness in the car weighs heavily on V’s mind. Hands gripping tight on the steering wheel, she tries to ignore this unsettling ache she has, not allowing even an ounce of thought to pass. Though she chalks it off as a side effect of the pseudoendotrizine, this strange, hollow feeling of hers continues to stir deep inside, burning, burning and burning.

And so, she switches on the radio and focuses ahead on the stretch of road winding down the North Oak hills, the approaching lights of Night City glowing brighter against the inky skies. A fresh breeze flows into the open windows, dulling the tension for a moment.

A moment of tranquility that ends far too soon, yet it was a moment V’s at least grateful to have.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Johnny points out, the gruff baritone of his voice piercing the air. “An enny for your thoughts?”

Kicking his feet up on the dashboard, his aviators glint in the silver moonlight, making him appear impossibly more obnoxious than he usually is. He acts as if he’s not aware of the recent thoughts plaguing V’s head, but perhaps that truly was the case. If it were, then she would be surprised— Johnny often invades her mind, poking and prodding at things he shouldn’t be. For a while, she assumes he knows.

“Just tired,” V replies monotonously. Her answer was far from a lie; she really was tired. Exhausted, even. All she wants is to collapse into bed, pass out, and hope that for a few short hours, she can forget about today, about everything.

“Huh,” he breathes out, and V spares him not a single glance. “Pretty sure somethin’ was up. You’ve been actin’ weird since we left the drive-in.”

A chuckle rumbles through her chest. V still finds it unusual for Johnny to act so… concerned. Almost caring, if she had to be honest. She’s noticed a change in him recently, which became apparent after their conversation in the oil fields. He’s a lot softer now, sometimes sweet, both in his own unique way, of course. As if his rough edges were slightly smoothed out with sandpaper, enough that they no longer cut and make her bleed.

V would often catch him staring when he thinks she’s not looking. She also doesn’t fail to miss the small smile that creeps across his face as she talks. And in those passing seconds that lasts an eternity when the relic malfunctions, Johnny was there to offer her comfort. He’d kneel down to the ground while she coils in agony, whispering promises that this will all be over soon. That one way or another, they would get rid of that goddamn chip slotted in V’s head and ultimately save her life.

Life. Life has a funny way of unraveling itself. Fuck, this all seems like a cruel joke the universe is playing on V. Fate is rarely kind to her, a sad fact she’s accepted over the years. Never would she have imagined that after experiencing the pain of heartbreak and loss, she’d find herself falling for someone at the worst possible time.

And that someone is the imprisoned digital ghost of a rockerboy-turned-terrorist studying her from the passenger seat.

But V’s adamant in denying it. Her life was too fucking complicated for this right now.

“Are you capable of shutting the fuck up for two seconds?” V bitterly snaps, the hands on the wheel clenching stiffly as her jaw. “You got what you wanted tonight. Finally got your dick wet after fifty years, so leave me the hell alone, would’ya?!”

She doesn’t mean to act on her muted anger, but it manages to get the best of her. V knows why, and because of it, she crumbles. She crumbles like the walls she’s built around herself. Like the facade she’s been hiding behind for the past couple of months. Because underneath the dirt and grime, V was just a poor, tragic soul, more worried about losing the man she couldn’t have than her awaiting death.

“Really think that’s what happened?” Johnny asks, pushing his shades up to his head as he shifts to sit up straight in his seat.

V grits her teeth, eyes remaining locked on the road. She had woken up an hour or two after Johnny took over, finding her lips still warm, still swollen. Her hair was tousled, and she had been stripped off of most of her clothes; the scent of Rogue’s perfume lingering on her skin. She didn’t need him to recount; it was all clear to her what had transpired. It was what she agreed on to make him happy, a date with the Afterlife fixer and whatever it could lead up to.

In the end, V regretted it, not because Johnny used her body to sleep with someone. But because even after the rollercoaster ride, the dog tags, the private concerts, and the heart-to-heart they had at his gravesite, she still wasn’t his. He was too hung up over Rogue, and she couldn’t blame him. Having shared a lengthy history, there was no doubt Johnny wouldn’t snatch up the opportunity to win her back.

But then where does that leave V?

“The fuck is wrong, V? Don’t make me figure it out by myself.”

Biting the edge of her lip, she ignores Johnny’s latest question and contemplates swallowing an omega blocker. She doesn’t even care that he’s threatening to search for the truth without her permission. Choosing not to do so, he keeps pressing on regardless, and V was getting pissed off. When he doesn’t stop, she loses her temper and slams on the brakes, the Porsche coming to a screeching halt on a dead street.

Huffing, V pulls over to the side, shutting the car’s engine as Johnny is left bewildered by her actions. Peace and quiet. She yearns for peace and quiet, and the pills would do the trick in an instant. Her hand reaches for the bottle in her jacket pocket, the pounding of her heart echoing in her ears. Popping the cap open, she turns her head to the side, unable to help herself. She sees the tenderness etched in his features, a wordless plea shining in his dark eyes.

“V… Tell me.”

V’s gaze slowly falters, her consciousness at war with itself. The storm of anger in her calms, yet she needs to know what her next move is. She’s always been terrible at this sort of thing, dealing with her feelings and shit. Growing up in the streets of Heywood, she’s learned how to shut people out and keep them out. Biggest rule she had imposed on herself was to never, ever fall for a choom, but this time was different. Despite him being a mere figment of her imagination, she feels safe around Johnny, appreciated and content. The two understand each other on a level nobody else has done. They’ve been through literal hell and would only sink further into it to find a way to survive.

A chrome palm comes to rest on V’s cheek, the sensation oddly warm, oddly familiar. Her attention flickers back to Johnny as he strokes her weary face. His touch was delicate, movements careful and controlled. He treats her as if she were porcelain, afraid that his metal hand would cause her to crack. V exhales deeply, relishing the feeling she’s longed from the moment she had broken that dumb rule of hers.

“Go ahead,” she mumbles, giving Johnny consent for him to read her mind. It only takes a second, maybe even less. V half expects his shit-eating grin to make its appearance. She couldn’t forget how cocky he was, and she thought this would certainly rub his ego.

It never comes. Instead, Johnny’s lips turn up into a genuine smile, one softer than the way his black hair falls to frame his face. V swears she was floating; this doesn’t feel all that real to her. It couldn’t be real. But as the first faint slivers of sunlight appear on the horizon, she starts to believe that she isn’t dreaming nor hallucinating. She was still very much wide awake.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Johnny quips as he leans closer. “You had no reason to be jealous, princess.”

“Why not?”

“Nothin’ happen between Rogue and me,” he clarifies, his fingers pushing back her locks. “Yeah, we made out a little, but I couldn’t go through with it. Wanna know why?”

V nods.

“’Cause I realized that ship sailed a long time ago. We’re too different people now; she’s got her own life, while I got mine sittin’ right here.”

“Johnny…” she murmurs his name as he brings up his other hand to cradle her face. “I wanted to have what you and Rogue had, minus the shitty things you did. But I could feel how much you loved her, how you basically worshipped the ground she walked on. Then I thought, can’t compete with her. She’s a livin’ legend, a badass. Meanwhile, I could be dead the next minute or two, either by this fuckin’ relic or a bullet.”

“Trust me, V, you wouldn’t want that,” Johnny returns, resting his forehead against hers. How could he feel so real? “What you and I have is special. Ain’t felt this way before, not even with Rogue or Alt. Like I said, you’re the fuckin’ closest to me. These feelings you’re afraid of? Shit, I have them too, and I’m fuckin’ terrified. But knowing that you’re here and we both share them, it makes things a lot less scary.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Johnny laughs softly. “Gotta spell it out for ya, huh? Well then, here it goes; V, I love you. I don’t throw that word around randomly, but know that it’s what I feel whenever I think of you.”

V doesn’t waste a second longer. Her lips meet his for a kiss that is gentle and bruising, all at once. They hold one another close, their grasps taut so that the other wouldn’t slip away, not wanting to lose what they’ve gained. Time goes by, ticking in the background as they kiss again and again, but to them, it’s slow, nearly everlasting.

And when it was over, when they finally had to part, they were breathless, panting.

“Love you too, Johnny,” she murmurs into his skin, tone dripping with affection as he hums in response.

Night melds into day, and the city comes back to its fullest life. V kisses Johnny a final time before driving back to the place she calls home, even though she’s found her true one in his heart.

—

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @flaminasteroid @rowserein @unaspiringwritings @planetkt @breakthenight @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

Johnny Silverhand Tags: @silverse @overheardatthecontinental @meshlababy @ataraxydreams @ineedpeetalikehekneadsbread @savsselfinserts @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @donakamark

*If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to send me an ask or DM!

#johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand fanfic

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agathasangel · 4 years ago

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leave everything behind but me- part 1 (diane sherman x fem!reader)

Warnings: Diane is still extremely dangerous, TW for stalking, drugs, and illness (also brief vomit mention), hurt/comfort with a bit more hurt, this series may end up going in an NSFW direction but there isn’t any here, I really don’t know exactly where it’s going.

AU where pretty much everything in the movie is the same except the very last scene. Diane gets out of jail but isn’t able to find or contact Chloe. This is gonna be a series and probably way too long (I’m already writing part 2). Also I know there are a lot of Diane fics that are like this, sorry about that. But this is really fun to write so oh well.

Summary: You finally got the courage to run away and start a new life. Diane gets out of jail. She can’t find Chloe, but created a bond with another girl, you. And she would never, ever lose you. After all, you need her.

You were finally doing this. You were leaving your home behind and never looking back. You never had a good relationship with your parents, and now that you had graduated High School your parents were constantly threatening to kick you out. So instead, you decided to just leave. You had found a town on the east coast (across the country from your home state) and you had saved all your money from your job for the bus tickets, and found a roommate online, Anna. until you had finally announced to your parents that you were moving out. They acted relieved, like a huge burden was just taken off of their plate. But you knew they were secretly upset that they no longer would have someone to blame every inconvenience on.

You sat on the bus, listening to music and looking out the window. You noticed a silver minivan that happened to have been following you almost all day and on two different buses. You wondered where the driver of the minivan was going. Maybe whoever the driver was was running away too, but was lucky enough to have a car.

The bus stopped in Chicago, about halfway to your destination, and you had an eight hour layover that you had to manage to stay awake for despite the fact that you hadn’t slept in the past 24 hours. You decided to go to a cafe that was next to the bus station to get some coffee to pass the time and keep you up.

“I’ll just have a large coffee with cream and 1 sugar, please.”

“Great! That’ll be three-fifty.”

You searched in your wallet before realizing that you were completely out of cash that wasn’t going towards your bus ticket or room.

“...never mind”

“Hey, I can pay for you, don’t worry about it.” Said the woman standing behind you.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“Don’t worry, its no big deal. Just come and sit with me.”

You had time. Besides, you wanted someone to talk to and this woman was quite attractive.

“Sure. Thank you.”

The woman ordered and led you to a table.

“So, what’s your name?”

“I’m (y/n). And you?”

You heard the barista say “Two coffees for Diane?” and the woman got up

“I guess that answers that?” you said.

Diane walked over to get the coffees and stirred in the cream and sugar into both of them.

She gave you one of the coffees and said “Yes, my name is Diane Sherman. Are you from around here?”

“Oh no, I’m from the west coast. I’m on a bus trip, moving across the country. Fresh start, you know. And you?”

“I have been too, actually. Well, except I’ve been driving. Why do you need a fresh start?”

“My parents and I have a rough relationship. I just graduated High School and I didn’t feel like there was a reason to stay. What about you?”

“I’m sorry about that, (y/n). I actually lost my daughter recently, I’ve been incredibly lonely. I’m hoping for a new start, and some new connections.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Diane, that’s terrible.” You wondered what happened to her daughter, but thought it was best not to pry into this woman’s life.

“I’ll get through it. Maybe I’ll find someone else I can take care of. Someone who really needs it.”

Diane asked you more questions about your family, life, interests, everything. You felt like this woman had a genuine interest in you that you never felt from anyone else. You liked it. But as you talked you realized that the coffee wasn’t waking you up, if anything you felt even more tired. Maybe you just had to wait.

“I haven’t slept in so long, I’m so tired. Thank you for getting this coffee for me. It was nice to meet you, Diane.” You said, sad that your paths may never cross again.

“(Y/n), wait.”

You turned back to her.

“I have an idea. I have a motel room with two beds for tonight. Why don’t you sleep there and we forget about the buses, you can just ride with me.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve bought a house and I’m going there, but I can take you wherever you’d like, there’s no rush. I understand you may be suspicious as a younger woman when an older person asks you to ride with them and stay in their hotel room but I promise I only ask because, well honestly, I’m lonely and need someone to take care of.”

It was probably the sleep deprivation, but you believed her. You got into her silver minivan and drove to a nearby motel. When you got in the room you immediately dropped all your stuff and flopped down onto the bed, exhausted.

“Hey, sweetie, you can shower in the morning if you want to but you should at least change into pajamas.” said Diane. You found the energy to take your clothes off and put on an oversized t-shirt as you listened to Diane sing in the shower. You fell asleep to the sounds of the running shower and the older woman’s slightly off-key singing.

When you woke up, Diane was reading and sipping some coffee. You noticed she had also gotten you one.

“Morning, sweetheart. Now, I’m not in much of a rush to get out of here so just take your time. Drink your coffee and then take a shower, alright?”

“Sounds good!” You said, starting to drink your coffee.

“Great. I’m looking forward to spending more time with you, (y/n). I think maybe we were destined to meet. You without loving parents and me, in desperate need of someone to love and care for.”

“Maybe..”

You couldn’t explain why, but you did like this strange woman. She seemed kind, and she was very pretty, which couldn’t have hurt. The only reason you said yes to her last night was because you needed sleep so badly but now that you were fully rested, you couldn’t say you regretted it. You walked to the shower and felt a bit lightheaded. While you were in the shower you started to feel weak and you finally fell over.

As soon as she heard the thud of your body to the shower floor, Diane ran into the bathroom.

“(Y/N)? What happened? Are you ok?”

“I... I fell... I don’t know why.” You said, a bit embarrassed of the woman seeing your naked body like this

“Ok, let’s get you dried off and dressed, then I think we have to get some food into you.” and Diane helped you up, helped you dry off and took out your most comfortable-looking clothes and put them on you. This whole thing made you feel like a child, but you almost didn’t mind. It’s not like you’ve ever been taken care of like this before.

“Lean on me if you need to, I’ll come back for the luggage after you’re in the car.” You held onto Diane’s arm all the way to the front seat of the car.

“Just wait here, okay love?”

She got both your suitcase and hers and but them back in the car. You noticed that her suitcase that was in your room was not the only one she had, and she in fact had several suitcases, and lots of bags. She was older and more established than you, of course she had more things than you did.

She drove until you found a diner where the two of you could get breakfast. She helped you out of the car and told her to at least hold her hand while you walked.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, maybe eating something will make you feel better.”

“Yeah, I hope so. I’ve never felt like this before, I really hope I’m not sick.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

While you ate you talked, and Diane gave you a pill that she said might make you feel better. You took it and you did start feeling a little bit better.

“Is it working? Do you feel ready to go?”

“I think so”

And so you left the diner with Diane feeling a little bit better. She kept her hands on you to guide you as you went to the car, just in case.

“I’m ok now. But thanks, Diane.”

“Of course.” She grabbed your hand for a second and smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. Why did you feel this way?

Diane drove for several hours until you fell asleep again. When she woke you up you were in a hotel parking lot in a small town you didn’t recognize.

“Where are we?”

“I think we’re somewhere in central Pennsylvania. We have a lot more driving to do, but it’s getting late. Let’s get some dinner and get you to bed.”

That night was relaxing and easy. Diane ordered room service and you ate while sitting on her bed together and watching a movie. The two of you began to cuddle and you ended up falling asleep in the older woman’s arms. When you stirred early the next morning she was still holding you.

When you woke up for real, Diane brought you some coffee.

Diane got back on the road and she asked you where you planned on staying. You told her you were going to stay with a girl named Anna who you talked to online. As the car ride progressed, the weak feeling you had the other day started to come back.

“That’s ok. You can stay with me tonight if you want.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do. I want to make sure you’re ok, let me take care of you.” You figured that if Diane were dangerous, she would have tried to do something to you by now since you’ve basically been alone with her for almost two days. How bad could it be?

It turned out that the house Diane lived very close to Anna anyway, so you decided why not.

You drove another seven or so hours from the hotel all the way to a small house in a very cute little town not too far from where you had planned on settling in.

“This is it.”

You got out of the car and brought your stuff into the house. It was a cute, small place that was already furnished. You and Diane both looked around. There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a living room and kitchen.

“It’s a good thing I got a two-bedroom, I guess. You can stay here as long as you’d like.”

“Thank you”“

“I’m gonna go out and bring some more stuff in and then I’ll make us some tea, does that sound good?”

“Sure.”

The two of you sat on the couch and talked while you drank the tea Diane made you. The tea didn’t taste bad, but it didn’t taste like anything you’ve had before. You told her more about your family life after she asked.

“Your parents were so lucky,” said Diane, who was getting a bit emotional, “to have a child as healthy and beautiful and sweet as you. There are so many people who would give anything to have what your parents took for granted.”

“I don’t know, maybe it is my fault. Maybe I was just a bad kid. Maybe I was hard to like, or dumb, or-”

“I don’t think you’re any of those things. And I’m sorry that you believe that, because it’s not true.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

You went to bed that night in your room and Diane in hers. When you woke up you felt weak and sick to your stomach. You guessed that Diane was wrong and you were in fact coming down with something.

“Diane!” You felt bad for possibly waking her up, but you’d feel even worse if you threw up on the sheets, and you didn’t know if you could make it to the bathroom. So you did it. She immediately came running to you.

“Are you ok, sweetie? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m sick. Do you have a bucket or something?”

“Yes. Just one second.”

She left and very quickly brought back a bucket for you.

“I hope I haven’t gotten you sick too.”

“Don’t worry about that, I rarely get sick. Just let me take care of you.”

And you did. For the next few days as she looked for teaching jobs she nursed you back to health. Well, almost-health, at least. You weren’t having stomachaches or throwing up anymore but you still felt weak. She gave you pills and lots of them, and some might have had some bad side effects. All the pain medication she gave you almost had a numbing effect on your body. Anna had completely stopped responding to you and you worried she didn’t want to be roommates anymore, not like you could be on your own right now anyway in the state you were in. You needed Diane to take care of you. She was being interviewed for a position as a science teacher at the local High School but other than working on all of the application material she had all the free time in the world to be with you.

“Anna said she found another roommate.”

“Hey, don’t worry about that alright? You’re still sick and I really don’t mind you just... staying here and living with me. Besides, I really think I’m going to get this job and if I do I’ll easily be able to support the both of us.”

“Diane, you don’t have to... I applied for some jobs already.”

“None of which you can do when you’re sick, now please lie back down. I know you feel bad for letting me take care of you and baby you so much, but you don’t have to. I’ve already told you that I like having someone to take care of. And I know you like it when I take care of you too.”

And you hated to admit it, but she was right. Despite how horrible you felt physically, you enjoyed your time with Diane. You started doing a lot of fun things together. You both enjoyed yourselves, and Diane sometimes told you that she felt like she had a daughter again. She made you feel loved. You still had your own bed, but you often fell asleep on the couch or in Diane’s bed while the two of you cuddled.

“I love you, (y/n). My baby.” Diane said as you started to drift off on the couch with her that night.

#diane sherman x reader #diane sherman #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson fics #my fics

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hanibalistic · 4 years ago

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#807B36 | LEE FELIX.

genre | fluff

word count | 1479

warning | (a brief) mention of blood and injury

note | thank you so much for requesting! i hope you like this piece :D

request | from anon

your skin peeled today, and it didn't hurt.

the edge of the carving knife (you were using it to hastily finish your art assignment during lunch) scraped against your dangerously ungloved hands when you were busy exclaiming for felix to stop talking to you.

you might have been a little too harsh with your words and your tone. you could see a sense of fear in his yellow-petaled eyes when you snapped at him, the great bright halo around his face fading along with his smile when he finally realized his presence was unwelcomed at your table.

you felt bad, but you didn't regret what you did. you were infuriated with how he was unable to pick up the cues you let out by not looking at him as you unwillingly carried on with the conversation he suddenly started with you, and he just kept talking and talking and distracting you from finishing your art assignment.

you did what you had to do to give yourself peace. perhaps you should not have been so aggressive with your method, but ultimately, you did it for yourself, and you didn't regret making him feel bad that he was bothering you.

but, still, you thought that would surely have done it for you.

felix has been around you recently, for an unnecessary number of times. you did not catch onto the pattern at first; the first time he approached you was to ask you for your calculator, not after he went out of his way to lie about the fact that nobody in your class wanted to borrow him theirs. you didn't point out his deception, you simply handed yours to him and figured that would be the end of your encounter with the resident sunflower boy.

but there came a second time (with him missing his math textbook you saw he deliberately stuffed inside his desk drawer), and a third time (this was about the pencil he dropped all the way to your seat when he was five to six desks away from you), and a fourth time (it was a chain note he started but you swore it went straight back to him after you checked the question boxes).

he never went away, surprisingly. he has only gotten closer to you since the first time, partially because while not being familiar with the process of befriending others, you still wanted to have a friend you could stick around with, so you didn't directly tell him to get off your back.

no one has bothered you like him before. today was the first time you've had to tell someone to stop talking to you. you hadn't known what else you could do but panic and tell him to shut the hell up, which surely would be the last straw for felix.

nobody likes an awkward and mean person. someone who wasn't well versed in communication, and when they do manage to get involved in a social activity, they somehow piss everyone off. nobody wants to take the time to tolerate those people.

it was a hard pill to swallow, but some people are just better off being by themselves, and you thought you may be one of them.

"are you okay?"

you looked away from the water faucet to find felix standing under the shade with you. he was slightly panting, indicating he has run through the place to find you in the school backyard of all places. and his hands were fiddling with something—a band-aid, it seemed. he must have gotten it from the medical room on his way here.

"yeah, it's just a scrape," you said as you turned off the water faucet and waves your hand to get rid of the droplet.

he pursed his lips, still recalling the way you had snapped at him just then. you wouldn't have accidentally cut yourself if he had just let you finish your art homework. the fact that you got hurt was mostly his fault, he thought.

"i'm sorry," he said as he stepped forward, his hand timidly reaching out with the band-aid. "i was just trying to talk to you."

"well, maybe learn how to pick the right moment next time," you pointed out sternly as an instinctive response. but then you softened when you noticed to dip of his head, and you pursed your lips to hold your aggression down. you took the band-aid from him before you muttered, "thank you."

you struggled with putting it on perfectly. the band-aid continued to shift on your finger when you tried to wrap it around, but after some trial and error, you managed to stick it around your skin in a messy manner.

felix watched with caution, his feet urging him to help but he was ultimately unable to offer anything but an awkward smile at the end.

there it was again. the fatigue sparkling above his freckles shone under the sun that seeped through the leaves. you had a feeling that it was there because of you, and you wanted to soothe it somehow. after all, you didn't think it would be fair for you to pin it all against him for just trying to talk to someone. you didn't have to snap and scare him like that.

"i'm sorry about yelling at you too," you muttered under your breath. "i didn't know what else to do. i've never had to tell someone to leave me alone before, nobody ever talks to me."

felix's eyes widened a fraction.

a hint of vagueness melted into his sympathy that it stopped being sympathy anymore. there was something more hiding within him that he felt like he knew was love, possibly coming from the time you let him borrow your lap as a pillow when he fainted from dehydration on a school field trip.

his heart has never beat quicker than that morning when he saw a blurry vision of you above him, and he heard your muffled voice talk to the teacher about his condition, he felt your delicate hand card through his hair as a mean to lure him to get more rest.

you had spent the whole day with him, sitting with numbness in your legs and letting him sleep his sickness away. he had thought he saw you watch the other kids move about the field playing with each other, but the longing in your eyes faced as soon as you turned to him in concern.

he has given you his heart since then, silently and from afar.

"they should talk to you," he blurted honestly. there was shyness stored in his scared voice, one that made you look at him sweetly as if you have never been spoken to this way before. "they should... you're... you're a very good person to talk to."

"i just screamed at you, felix." you sighed.

"well! i was annoying, wasn't i?" he fumbled then, his voice going higher as he looked to the side with a heartened laugh. "i should have given you time to finish the assignment first. you were right about me needing to learn how to pick a good timing."

you chuckled to yourself. "you're always so nice, felix."

he smiled. "i try my best."

well, his best was better than enough.

you pinched your finger, almost forgetting the band-aid that wrapped around it because of the conversation you frowned yourself in. feeling the thick label around you, you sucked in a breath before you said, "thanks for the band-aid again... i should probably go back to class."

he followed you hastily, stepping to your side and matching his steps with yours. "we–we'll walk together!"

when you turned sharply to him, he gulped down a knot of embarrassment. he wondered if he picked the wrong moment again. you certainly didn't seem agitated or in a rush at all, though? he couldn't possibly be that bad at reading the room, could he?

"or not...? maybe not?"

it was as if he was trying to get closer to you little by little, one step at a time so he wouldn't overwhelm your shy heart. he wasn't the most subtle, but you reckoned he was trying his best. this was his first time getting close to someone who kept locking him in the stranger phase, after all.

"it's fine," you said with a faint smile.

felix blinked innocently at you, the quirk of his lips spreading wider when you waited for him to move before you walked to class.

it was right to give you his heart, he thought. and perhaps it was finally time he would have it given back to him.

"want to hear about what happened today during pe?" he started.

you gave him a quiet nod, pinching your finger to feel your wound.

your skin peeled today. with felix here, you forgot how it should hurt.

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seaweedbrain404 · 4 years ago

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Wolfstar Au!: Hot and Cold (pt 2 of Parties and Morning Regrets)

@icitlali asked if there was a second part and um- yeah i wrote this, there may be more parts to come

pt 1

pt3

read it on ao3

Remus thought inviting Sirius up was the right thing to do which is the only reason he did. He dared to let himself hope but he didn’t really want to see Sirius. Still, Remus had manners and it was so cold outside that his own fingers were turning purple. Leaving Sirius out in the cold and making him probably walk home seemed too mean, even for Remus. Although, he thought Sirius definitely deserved it.

He followed Sirius up to the flat, Lily looked more than surprised when she saw Sirius come in and gave Remus another look. It was one of those looks that Remus didn’t like getting, the we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later kind of look. He shrugged it off, too preoccupied with his bloody hip.

“Remus, did you really walk all the way here?” Lily crossed her arms over her chest as Remus closed the door behind them.

“Yeah, so what” He replied through gritted teeth. “I’m going for a shower to wash off the smell of stale alcohol”

“You’re going to be the death of me one day, Remus Lupin” Lily’s voice called to his retreating back. “Sirius, how are you?”

Remus heard vague small talk as he navigated his way to his bedroom. The pain in his hip wasn’t unbearable exactly. It was just bad enough for it to consume all his thoughts. All he needed was a warm bath, some painkillers and to limit his movements for the rest of the day. Easy. Unfortunately, the bath would have to wait until later though seeing as it would probably be rude to soak in the tub while having a guest over.

Showering after a night out was always a pleasant experience. He emerged from the shower just a couple minutes later with damp hair, a stolen pair of Lily’s yoga pants and a clean jumper.

“Ah, here’s the idiot who has no regard for his health” Lily smiled as Remus walked into the kitchen. “Are those mine?”

“Maybe, painkillers please?” He walked across the room and leaned his chin on Lily’s shoulder.

Sirius watched the interaction between the two with some hint of longing in his eyes. Remus wasn’t sure why, maybe it was because he had never been so casually touchy with anyone but now him and Lily were even closer than they were in school.

Lily wrapped an arm around his waist, rubbing circles on his hip. “Sirius, there’s a small pill bottle in the cupboard just there-“ she pointed to the right above her head “-would you mind grabbing it please?”

Sirius blinked for a moment, seemingly frozen at the sight of them. Then, he nodded. “Yeah- yeah, I got it”

He passed Lily the retrieved painkillers without looking at them. Lily hummed gratefully in return, easing Remus, who had hid his face in the crook of her neck, off her. He leaned back against the counter and Lily switched the kettle on.

“I promised Mrs Pettigrew from next door that I’d pick up her groceries today” Lily turned to Remus, glancing at Sirius, “and do a bit of cleaning for her since her grandson is out of town, do you think you’ll manage?”

“Yeah” Remus breathed out. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay”

Lily pursed her lips and looked to Sirius again. “Make sure he stays home, yeah?”

Remus made a noise of protest as Sirius nodded, “I doubt he’ll want to listen to me”

“Lily, I can take care of myself”

“Hardly, you’re in a right state after being without me for a few hours” She scolded, “If you strain yourself any more then you’re going to really fuck up your hip”

“I can’t fuck up something that’s already fucked, can I?”

“I mean it, take it easy and don’t be an idiot”

“Alright, fine”

“And I want to talk to you later”

Remus paled a little at that, despite fully seeing it coming. He made a noncommittal sound and Lily, satisfied with herself, left the room to layer up on clothes and help the nice old lady who lived across the hall.

There was a tense moment when she left. The kettle went off and Remus poured himself a cup, then paused. “Tea?”

“Sure”

Sirius seemed more relaxed now that Lily had gone. It was as if he had been on best behavior when she was there and now he didn’t have to be. Remus couldn’t really blame him, Lily could be very scary sometimes and she was always unreasonably overprotective of Remus. In all fairness, he felt the same way towards her.

So Remus poured two cups of tea and then added milk and sugar accordingly. He had assumed that Sirius took his tea the way he did back in school and he was only a little ashamed he still knew what the other man liked in his tea off the top of his head.

“Am I allowed to ask about the accident?” Sirius picked up his cup and took a sip.

“Why do you want to know?” Remus retorted, taking a painkiller.

“Lily wouldn’t tell me… and I’m…. worried” Sirius looked embarrassed to admit it but he did admit it which was good enough for Remus. It showed some sort of growth, some kind of potential.

“Depends on whether you’re going to pity me or not because frankly, I don’t care much for it”

“Jesus, you don’t have to be so snappy”

Remus scowled at him, not saying another word. He didn’t care about being snappy in that particular moment. His hip hurt like hell, he could feel his leg slowly going as well and whenever he told people anything about the accident they all treated him like a fragile porcelain doll.

Sirius cleared his throat before speaking again. “I won’t pity you, if you don’t want me to”

“What do you want to know?” Remus asked, disregarding what Sirius had said.

“What happened?”

“I worked at this publishing place, had a late night so I took a cab home” Remus began, even thinking about that night made his heart race and his eyes sting. “Someone was driving under the influence and hit us- the cab, I mean.. and it was really bad but they put these screws and plates all in my side, shoulder down to my shin”

Remus paused a moment, wiping his eyes on the back of his palm. Sirius made to touch him but he jerked away, a little too fast and hissed in pain. Sirius retreated his hand, looking crestfallen.

“Anyway, I had to quit the job cause it was too far to walk and I refused to get in any type of car or bus or really any type vehicle since then” Remus rushed the end of the story, his hands were shaking and his throat felt tight.

Sirius took a step forward and this time Remus allowed him to. He carefully opened his arms and slowly wrapped them around Remus, giving him more than enough time to move if he didn’t want this.

Remus, however, was just exhausted. He collapsed right into Sirius’ arms which tightened around him. The bad thing was, he was still shaking, his lungs refused to take in air and oh, there was the whole thing about just falling into his ex-boyfriend’s arms. Good thing was, he felt safe.

Then he started crying, his own arms wrapping around Sirius’ waist while his arms were around Remus’ back. He was pretty sure the only reason he still remained standing was Sirius’ strength forged by years of playing rugby. Remus wanted to kick himself, everything about this situation was just so pathetic and he hated it. He hated himself for it.

Sirius, meanwhile, said nothing and just rubbed circles on the taller man’s back. “I’m sorry, I’ve been horrible to you and now you’re literally comforting me, maybe I am the asshole”

“Nah, I kind of deserved it”

“Yeah you did”

“Hey! you’re not supposed to say that”

“But it’s the truth”

“Shut up”

Remus let himself laugh quietly. He was mortified by this display of vulnerability and dearly wished the ground would open and swallow him whole. Then he made a feeble attempt at pushing Sirius away, nearly toppling over himself. He had to grip the counter behind him to stop himself from hitting the floor. Sirius made to catch him but Remus swatted his hand away.

“I think you should go”

“But I promised Li-“

“I’m tired and she’ll be back soon”

Lie. Remus knew that Lily would be gone for at least two more hours, maybe more if Mrs Pettigrew offered biscuits.

“Then I’ll just stay till she comes back, she really worries about you” Sirius shrugged like it was final and Remus didn’t want to talk about it so he slowly hobbled to the living room.

“Do you-“

“No”

Sirius started asking but Remus snapped at him before he could finish his question.

“Sorry” Sirius mumbled, hands up in surrender. Remus could feel eyes on his back as he managed to get to the couch. He switched on the telly, laying on the side of his body that hurt the least.

Remus figured that if Sirius didn’t leave, then maybe he could ignore him to the point of leaving. Unfortunately it didn’t work because this was Sirius so instead of sitting on the chair near the couch or even on the floor, he stood at Remus’ head. Hands were gesturing for Remus to sit up but he ignored them.

“Remus, squish over a minute”

With a groan, he turned onto his back and sat up. Sirius slid into the open space and Remus turned so that his feet were at Sirius’ lap instead of his head. He wasn’t sure how his body would react if Sirius started gently twirling strands of his hair and admiring them as if they were made of gold.

Remus closed his eyes, feeling fingers tracing shapes on his exposed ankles.

Suddenly Sirius spoke. “You and Lily have gotten really close”

His eyes shot open, a little startled by the tone. He wasn’t sure how long he was out but he definitely slept at least twenty minutes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was groggy with sleep, the side of his mouth damp from drool

“It’s weird, I’ve never seen you so much as hug anyone”

Remus wiped the side of his mouth. “People are allowed to change and Lily is my best friend”

“It’s just- you’ve changed so much and I’m struggling to keep up” Sirius’ tone was strange, the most un-Sirius thing Remus had ever experienced him do since they met.

Remus’ eyebrows knit together, a frown now playing on his face. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, y’know… besides, I don’t have to change according to your terms”

“I never said that” Sirius spat.

Remus sat up in response, leaning back on his elbows. “Then why are you constantly bitching about how much I’ve changed?”

“Because you have! It’s like you’re this whole new person and I don’t even know you”

“I haven’t spoken to you since we were 17, that was 6 years ago and you expect me not to change?” Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I went to college, I got in a horrendous car accident Sirius, do you really expect me to be the same person I was when we were teenagers?”

“No- it’s just, I don’t like change”

“Fucking hell Sirius, the world doesn’t care and guess what? that’s constantly changing too”

“Yeah but not as drastically as you! You work in a bakery for Christ’s sake when I know you always wanted to be a writer”

“And I know you vowed to never work for your parents and here you are, doing daddy’s dirty work no doubt”

“Remus”

“What”

“You were never this cruel”

“No, I suppose not”

The two sat in silence, and it took all of Remus’ willpower not to kiss him.

“Can we just be friends or something” Sirius looked sincere enough, good natured enough for Remus to want it.

“Something? Something like wh-“

But Remus never got to finish his sentence because suddenly Sirius’ knees were straddling his hips and they were kissing.

What the fuck!

Remus wanted to scream, he was tired and annoyed and now he didn’t know what to feel. He pushed Sirius away for a second time that day, both their breaths coming in uneven.

“No” Remus breathed out, shutting his eyes tightly.

“No?”

“Yes, no… I can’t… what were you thinking?”

Sirius looked both hurt and surprised but Remus wasn’t concerned about that, he was more confused than anything and also there was the almost unbearable pain in his hip.

“I- well you were being cruel and this is the only way I knew how to shut you up effectively”

Now it was Remus’ turn to look hurt, he pushed Sirius again with more force than before. He brought his head back down and refused to say another word.

“Remus”

Nothing.

“Remus”

He shut his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep again.

“I’m sorry”

“Remus, I’m really sorry”

“I know I shouldn’t have said that”

“I did want to kiss you, I also wanted you to stop being mean”

“Come on Moony”

Remus’ eyes shot open at the childhood nickname. “Leave me alone Sirius, I’m tired and sore”

“Are you cross?”

“With you?”

Sirius hummed in response.

“Yeah but mainly cause I’m tired”

“Oh, I’m sorry”

“Just stop talking”

Sirius did just that. Remus felt bad though, he very carefully and hesitantly moved again so that his head was on Sirius’ lap. “I’m sorry for being a dick” he whispered, eyes closing again.

“I’m sorry for not thinking before I speak” came Sirius’ soft reply.

Remus felt Sirius’ fingers move through his hair tentatively as if he was uncertain whether or not this was allowed. “No, I’m being a moody git, all hot and cold on you”

“I couldn’t blame you for it”

“Well you should”

Sirius didn’t reply and Remus remained on the side that didn’t hurt him, facing away from Sirius and towards the telly.

#marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #the mauraders #modern marauders #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fic #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #lily evans #okay but i love writing lily and remus’ friendship so much #they remind me of me and my best friend

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equustenebris · 3 years ago

Text

New drabble time! The Mad Ducktor falls off the top of the Money Bin, but things don't go as expected when he drags himself to the hospital.

Bill is apparently the name I’m giving Gyro's unseen sibling, Newton's father. It was meant to be a temporary placeholder name for me but I guess it's stuck, so this is me committing to it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, so car-cans have an official English name, coco-no-nos, but that is not happening lmao. I try to use the official English names wherever possible, but I prefer "car-can" so much more that I'm keeping it.

This was supposed to be a really short drabble aksjfnsb IT GOT AWAY FROM ME

for Whumptober 2021

Eight. Coughing Up a Lung

Prompt - pneumothorax

He staggered back into his hideout, gasping for breath, holding his aching side. Well, that little escapade could have gone better. The tumble he had taken from the top of the Money Bin, courtesy of Mr. McDuck, was a lot longer drop than it looked like from the ground. Fortunately, nothing was majorly injured -- except maybe his ego.

So the direct approach worked about as well as his broken shrink ray, which is to say, not at all. Clearly, next time he needed to do a lot more field testing before he showed up at his nemesis's with a new invention. Having a Plan B couldn't hurt either, lest he get unceremoniously shot off the side of the Money Bin again. He was beginning to understand how Magica still hadn't swiped the Dime despite literal magic at her fingertips; that old man was fierce, and an excellent shot with that salt-loaded blunderbuss.

He closed his eyes, slumping into his desk chair with a miserable groan. Well. He might be covered in bruises, but at least he had managed to escape before the Duck Avenger showed up, so there was that. Small favors.

He winced, carefully tugging off his cape and gloves, not exactly eager to see the damage. His coat followed, admittedly more difficult to remove with the searing burn in his side. He bristled suddenly, seized by a coughing fit. Oh, how his lungs ached -- having to make a fast getaway all the way back to his hideout in the shipping district from Killmotor Hill was definitely not his idea of fun.

He managed to finally peel off his jumpsuit, carefully lifting his undershirt to get a better look. He winced, flinching. His entire left side was already smattered in deep, large bruises and scrapes, feathers speckled with dried blood. It looked bad, he supposed, but nothing a long epsom soak couldn't take care of, and a few days' rest.

He abruptly doubled over, fitfully coughing again, each little movement sending sharp pain tearing through his side. Worryingly, when he finally managed to soothe the tickling in his chest, he struggled to catch his breath. For a few moments he just gasped, each breath laborious, like sucking air through a straw. Maybe it was just the pain? Maybe he bruised the lung? Can you bruise a lung? (Despite the play on words for his villainous title, he was an inventor, not a doctor.)

The pain only seemed to be getting worse. He struggled to his feet, figuring maybe he could start a bath now to help soothe himself, but only made it a few steps before he was seized by another coughing spell, covering his beak with his hand. This time, however, when he finally managed to catch his breath, his palm sparkled with bright red blood.

"Oh...no," he managed breathlessly, dread sinking through his stomach. So yes, he was not a doctor -- but clearly he was going to need one.

---

"Gyro Gearloose?"

He struggled to his feet, following the nurse to the ER bed. Somehow, he had managed to pull on his other self's familiar clothes, and more or less pinned down his head feathers for the blond wig. Breathing was getting more difficult by the minute, but he couldn't exactly go to the hospital as the Mad Ducktor, so his thrown-together Gyro disguise would have to do. Fortunately, the staff was already pretty familiar with Gyro after all of his mishaps in the lab, and didn't ask him for the ID he didn't have. Small favors -- that were rapidly growing smaller in light of the circumstances.

He groaned, lying back on the bed, preparing for the long, mind-numbing wait for the doctor. The long, painful wait, breathing like someone had a weight set on his chest. He closed his eyes, just trying to rest in the meantime, drowsily drifting in and out of sleep as he shivered under the thin, scratchy sheet.

It wasn't long, however, before he was roused by an extremely familiar voice out in the hallway. "Uh, let's not tell your dad about this one, okay?"

"Yeah, Uncle, I think that's probably a good idea... It doesn't hurt that bad, though."

"Yeah, but we should still get it checked out. I'm sorry, Newton. I can see there's still a few bugs to work out!"

He startled awake, heart suddenly slamming in his chest. Here?! Of all the places in all the city, Gyro Gearloose had to be here?! He panted breathlessly, panic rising, sweat beginning to prickle down the back of his neck. He was a wanted criminal, and if Gyro or any of the staff found out about his little deception, his goose was cooked. But what exactly was he supposed to do?

"Hey, Uncle...why are you listed on the board?"

"Hmm?"

"Under the list of patients, look, it says 'Gyro Gearloose' Shouldn't it be my name? Oh, no, wait, there's 'Newton Gearloose' already over on that side..."

"What?"

"Yeah. Do you think you're on there by mistake? Someone should probably tell them."

The Ducktor squeezed his eyes shut, just struggling for breath. Well, come what may, there was certainly nothing he could do about it now.

There was a soft rustling at the curtain separating the Ducktor from the rest of the emergency room. Gyro gave a warning shh to his nephew, then pulled it back, peeking in. The Ducktor met his eyes, wanting to call to him, wanting to say anything, but the air he had to speak with was suddenly gone; he started coughing again, ending the fit with a pained yelp.

Newton made a murmur of confusion, but Gyro quickly slipped inside and pulled the curtain shut behind him. "What are you doing here?!" he demanded, hissed in a low whisper.

The Ducktor wanted to respond to that with some snarky quip, some aggressive hey, captain obvious remark -- but as he struggled for air, he just shook his head, eyes pleading. "I can’t breathe," he whispered back, clutching the sheets.

Gyro's face abruptly softened, as if he hadn't even considered the possibility that his evil counterpart might be at the hospital for a reason. "Are you sick?"

He shook his head, trying to keep his voice low and words short. "I fell," he gasped, grasping his side to illustrate. He decided it was probably for the best that he not share why he fell, or from where.

"Uncle?" Newton attempted to pull back the curtain, but Gyro quickly pinched it shut.

"Just wait, Newton." He turned back to the Ducktor with an uncertain sneer. "He's got a burn on his arm we're getting checked out. A...bit of a mishap with a new invention of mine." He frowned, looking the Ducktor over, considering, then quickly fluffed up his head feathers and took off his button-down, untucking his T-shirt underneath to attempt to change his appearance. "Okay, Gyro. If you can promise me you're not planning to hurt anybody, then Bill and Newton will go wait to see the doctor."

The Ducktor gave a short, breathless laugh, stunned at this sudden change of fortune, and Gyro's unexpected generosity. "Not hurting anyone," he gasped, trying to suppress another cough, "just -- need help."

Gyro nodded, frowning, and slipped out of the curtain and back to Newton, shirt over his arm. "C'mon, Newton, just -- call me Dad for now. I’ll explain later..."

He closed his eyes again, resting back against the hospital bed with a pained wheeze. Not so small favors.

---

Nearly three hours later, he stumbled out of the emergency room, limping, the one pain pill they gave him barely blunting the searing ache. A collapsed lung, they said, but not bad enough to warrant any treatment except waiting and watching. Try to rest and try not to cough. As he began dragging himself on the long journey back to his hideout, badly suppressing another coughing fit, he wondered how exactly he'd be able to do either of those things.

He was so distracted by the pain, he didn't immediately recognize the car that had pulled up beside him at the edge of the hospital parking lot. Hesitantly, Gyro rolled down the window, peeking his head out. "...do you need a ride?" he asked, concern knitting his brow.

As much as he wanted to say no, he found himself already eagerly tugging open the back door. "Yes," he gasped, still struggling for air, "the shipping district."

Gyro frowned to himself, stealing a glance to the anxious-looking Newton squirming in the passenger seat. It had been a long time since he'd gotten to see his nephew. He'd certainly grown. The Ducktor thought he heard his other self mumble something like I hope I don't regret this as he began driving, but he was far too caught up in the elation of not having to walk to care.

Newton peered back at him over the seat, looking uncertain. The Ducktor sat back, just trying to rest.

"...are you the Mad Ducktor?"

He opened his eyes and refocused, trying to concentrate through the pain medication haze. "Yes."

"Oh." He paused for a moment, contemplative. "...are you okay?"

"Collapsed lung," the Ducktor wheezed, "and a fractured rib. Apparently, I’ll be fine."

"Mm." Newton held up his bandaged arm for the Ducktor to see, grinning awkwardly. "Second degree burn. But I should be healed before Dad comes back next month."

The Ducktor smirked tiredly and nodded, turning his attention back to Gyro. "Go left at the light."

"Do you need any help?" Gyro asked, glancing up into the rear view. The Ducktor sat back, grimacing.

"No," he said finally, shaking his head. "You've done enough. Drop me off here."

"Here? But we're in the middle of nowhere!"

"I’m not leading you to my hideout, Gyro," he rasped. "I’ll walk the rest of the way."

Gyro reluctantly pulled over, parking under a hazy streetlight. "Are you sure?"

But the Ducktor was already out of the car, up on the sidewalk. He went to respond, but ended up in a coughing fit instead, leaning on the car for support, tissues he swiped from the hospital held to his beak. Finally, he managed to gasp a few labored breaths. "I'll be fine."

Gyro looked less than convinced, eyeing the blood-speckled tissues clutched in his hand. "...really, I don’t have to tell the Duck Avenger anything about this."

"Can’t risk it," he muttered, straightening up. "Go take the kid home, it's late."

"...I could take a car-can."

"I'm not doing that to you," he snapped, patience wearing thin. "Just go home."

Gyro paused for several moments, clearly reluctant. Finally, he sighed. "...okay, fine, okay. If you're sure."

"It was nice meeting you," Newton called from the passenger seat, so innocent and genuine that the Ducktor couldn't help but give a breathless laugh.

"Nice 'meeting' you too. Take care of that arm."

"I will."

"Say hi to Bill for me."

"Don’t do that," Gyro warned, looking from Newton back to the Ducktor. "We're going to keep this a secret, okay? Just between us three." He pulled the car out of park, frowning worriedly. "...if you need help with anything, I can help you, all right? Just ask."

"Your generosity knows no bounds, sweetheart," he said, gesturing dismissively. "I’ll make do alone. I always do."

Gyro frowned, hands on the steering wheel. "You might be evil, but you're still a person. You shouldn't have to make do alone." He sat back against the seat, eyeing him up and down. "Take care of yourself, all right?"

"Darling, it's almost like you care."

"I do," he snapped, blurting it out without thinking. There was an aching pause between them before Gyro finally turned away, staring straight ahead though the windshield. "...go get some rest."

"Hm. You too," the Ducktor told him, straightening up and giving the roof of the car a soft couple of slaps. "Thanks for the ride."

"Yeah."

He watched them pull away, waiting for the car to disappear over the horizon before he finally started walking, taking slow, drudging steps back to his hideout. He was ready for a nice warm bath, his bed...and the rest of the long night, all alone. He winced, more than just his lungs and bruises suddenly aching.

#gyro gearloose #mad ducktor #newton gearloose #whumptober 2021 #equus writes #tw: blood #only like...a little #tw: hospital

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selenitawars · 4 years ago

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Pressentimento

Never Be The Same - Part 7.

Pairing: Sam x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Niece!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader.

Summary: To save Dean’s life, Sam changes a big part of his past, hoping that he’d only forget memories with his college girlfriend. But, not only he changes his life, he also creates a new one.

Word Count: 2332.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Yes, I’m back after over a year and a half. I know I’m a dumbass for making y’all wait for so long, but, honestly, I want this to be a fun writing, so I try not to pressure myself. Won’t make promises. Either way, always love to know your opinions. Hope you enjoy this comeback haha!

Pressentimento masculine noun 1. act of feeling in advance, more through emotion than reason, the occurrence of a future fact; suspicion. "I have a p. that this will not work" 2. knowledge of what will happen, obtained by intuition; forecast, hunch, omen.

You still hadn't explained everything to your father nor your uncle. Cas remembered one of the episodes that occurred with you when you were younger, around ten or so. It was hard for you. Every time you tried to explain yourself, things were hard to explain. All the time, something blocked you from exposing the fear inside you, the fear of letting things out.

The way their "new" memories came to them didn't help. It was so unpredictable. Cas remembered you praying first and then, mixed memories, tiny ones, which made him assume a lot about you already; and worry as well. Dean remembered more, like the time Sam was soulless and you lived with him for months, you concluded he was remembering things by the impact they had in his life. As for Sam, well, apparently things were coming more chronologically for him, but a little late, since he also had a lot of Camila to remember.

You tried to think how to talk to them about your crisis. The big ones. It was so complicated. When it started happening, you had your godmother to help with calming down and understanding how sensible you were; but even Vanessa had to talk with the Winchesters to fully understand what made you so much stronger and sensitive. Anyway, she wouldn't help you now that she was in the list of people to whom you never existed.

Oh, and your mother...

Looking at pictures of her nowadays became an addiction. You couldn't sleep before searching a little more about her, not that you've been having much sleep or any of this helped. You wish so bad you could talk to her. And now that Sam told ya you reminded him so much of Camila, you really studied her, trying to find the resemblance.

How would you tell them there's more? More of you to worry. You wanted to wait for a time when the memories hangovers weren't so heavy on them. They were all trying to act normal, but it was obvious - you've never been at home for this long, they were never so quiet. Dean wasn't even drinking, to make sure he wouldn't be more confused.

You were lying down on your bed, trying to ease the headache. It was normal to have a day just to be tired, but after the all day just resting you still got a headache by night. Went to get a pill to make it better and when you swallow it, you realize something.

"I don't exist." You whisper to yourself.

For the first time in that day, you felt useful. Even with the headache, you got in front of the computer and started to do your thing. For some reason you got happy when you confirmed your theory.

"I was never born."

"You gotta stop thinking about that." Dean warned you.

"No, I mean... I don't exist."

The three men stared at you with confusion, you repeated.

"I don't exist."

Still nothing. The room was filled with silence while you hoped for the clicking in their minds. It never came. You sighed.

"I never existed! Never did anything!"

Sam looked at you like he was starting to worry, while holding a bowl with cereal. Just like Dean, who chewed his, probably thinking you've gone crazy.

"I don't understand why you're so excited saying it." Cas finally said.

"Isn't it obvious?" They once more, didn't react. "There are no records of me, at all. Nobody knows about me. I only left the bunker once."

"What's your point?" Dean asked.

"We should keep it that way."

"What? Why?" The brothers said together.

"Well, if nobody knows I'm here, we're in advantage. It's always good to have a secret backup, right?"

"Like... as a surprise element?" Castiel suggested, you nodded. "Y/N, you don't truly expect us to treat you like a secret weapon..."

"Hell no." Dean agreed.

"It's not like it."

"Well, I don't see your point." You father stated. "I know this seems messed up, but, we can fix it. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried, I'm thinking!" You made them quiet. "C'mon, think with me: I barely left the bunker, how could anyone know about me?"

"We know about you." Dean answered.

"But you've seen me. And your memories, are just yours, this doesn't mean the world knows about me."

"Ok, but you'll need to use an ID sometime. Or will you live forever here, inside the bunker?"

"Dean, you should know it's easier to make a fake ID look real if there isn't a real one to prove the fake one as fake."

Sam took a deep breath.

"Ok, so we leave it as it is. How much long do you think it would last?"

"Not much, I know. But at least, for a while it could be useful."

"I don't see how, Y/N. I'm not using you as my secret-spy-soldier or whatever."

"Sam is right. It's not worth it."

"Castiel?" You looked at him, only to find the agreeing look. You looked down.

"Look, how can you be sure nobody else remembers you?" The angel tried to clear your mind.

"For most people I know, I never happened. And the others, will probably only remember me when they see me, if they do. Until then..."

"That's not right." Sam interrupted. "I had this feeling about you, before we arrived on that day; like I left something behind, but I couldn't remember why."

"So did I."

"I got one your prayers for not getting news from us." You stood there, silent.

"That's it? A feeling you forgot something?!" You left for your bedroom, a little ofended they didn't listen to you. Your idea was good, logical. You genuinely thought they would see it as a good thing out of all this.

Reflecting on it, you finally notice: you may not know your family as well as before. At first it sounds crazy, but this is all crazy, ain't it? And after doing their exercise for a couple hours, thinking about your childhood, the events that crossed it and when it all began, you got yourself some questions.

You fell asleep while still thinking, trying to find logic somewhere and always getting to the same point, a lost point. Somehow while sleeping, you had no dreams, didn't wake up once; not even the fact that you were with a jacket bothered you.

"Hey, man. You good?" Dean noticed Sam squeeze his eyes.

"Yep. Just those flashbacks. I hate to have them by day, but I can't sleep no longer."

"Like a constant hangover, thank God it's not a heavy one." Sam did not answer. "Sam?"

"Right..." Sam stared at the floor, seeing stuff in his mind. He blinked multiple times after a little.

"You all right? You seem shocked. What did you remember?"

"It's just... Y/N's suggestion."

"Dude, that was today."

"Very funny!" Dean smiled a little to ease his brother. "It got me thinking. Why would she want that?"

"Honestly," Castiel entered suddenly. "I think she is trying to get something good out of this."

"Good? I see her point, but..."

"Not good." Cas interrupted, correcting himself. "Useful, at least."

"It's not as useful as she thinks." Dean says as if it's obvious.

"It's the only thing she has to offer." Castiel putted it in a weird way, but made sense. They silented for an instant. "Still, how does that has to do with your flashback, Sam?"

"I thought that maybe I should listen to her. Maybe there was a point."

"You, Sammy, considered the possibility of being saved by her?"

"Obviously not. I wondered: what if her non-existence helped her get away from this craziness. Like, she could get to any school if we put some effort."

"You concluded it fast." Cas commented.

"Well, yeah. Then I... questioned." Sam felt the gazes at him. "How did she get dragged into hunting in the first place? Why did I not stop it? And one more thing popped up: why did I leave college?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Dean couldn't understand his brother.

"Dean, if it wasn't for my anger towards Jessica's death, who knows..." He explained. "So why I left Stanford, making Camila stay behind and after weeks drop out too?"

Castiel took a seat.

"Why did you?"

Sam opened the door, showly. You were in your bed, far from his atmosphere, enjoying a rest you needed. He passed the door carefully, took a look at your room and turned the lights off. Ever since that hunt days ago, when he saw you sleep at the motel bed while he was reading about the case, the day he woke up before you and as you slept in the car coming back home, Sam felt peace as he watched you.

It was the moment he could breath easily and a little relaxed. You were resting, next to him, nothing could hurt you in your sleep. There, you were safe and wasn't leaving soon. So he couldn't help watch you once more; just stood by the door for a couple seconds, smiled at the taught of you having a break from this madness for some hours. Grabbed the door and heard your move, turning to check if he had woken ya.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Your voice sounded lazy. "I have a light sleep."

"So do I." You nodded. You knew it. He regrets commenting it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"No, tell me." He understood you couldn't sleep anymore.

"You don't want to talk now."

"It's about earlier, I know." You said while rubbing your eyes. "Just spit it." He gave in and sat in your chair.

"Why do you wanna do it?"

"Why don't you?"

"Why would I?"

"You've always wanted this." He gulped.

"What? No!"

"You never wanted me to be in risk, you hated the fact I made you all vulnerable, now nobody knows I'm here. I know this isn't permanent and things can change, but for now, you could finally be at peace. Nobody knows me, none of you have to worry."

Samuel digested everything you said and got his answer prepared fastly enough.

"For a long time I asked myself if Jessica never died, would I be here? And you know, as things turned out to be, as I found out more and more throughout the years I got the answer." He paused. "I would. Because if it wasn't Jess, it would be Dean or dad, or a friend."

"What do you mean?"

"I left college for revenge." You got surprised. "It wasn't Jess. Not anymore." That sounded weird. "I made a choice and I know now that somehow, at some point, no matter how many times... I would make that choice again. As soon as somebody I care about got in danger. So I left college. For you."

Sam got back from his first hunt after two years. Camila was waiting. They talked and she was serious when she told him to call Dean. Leave as soon as he could. She said she had a bad feeling, he had to find his father. Was something repentine, fast and clear - the fear in her voice stopped Sam from questioning.

"The way she talked to me... her eyes, getting sudden tears. At first I tried to calm her, jokes on me, I blamed her hormones. Camila proved me wrong. I knew she had that sometimes, like with tests or bad decisions, maybe something simple like knowing staying in was better than going to a party. She was always right. If not totally right, fast enough to avoid regret." He looked down as her voice came to his head and repeated her words. "'This is your family we're talking about, Samuel! Your child's grandfather.' She screamed. I was scared." You two laughed a little. "She begged. Aggressively. But, I didn't leave because she did."

"Why then?"

"I called Dean to get back there and pick me up because once we talked, I got that bad feeling too. And was suddenly afraid. Afraid something would happen to either of you." You stayed silent. "I hoped things would be more simple, soon I'd be back and things would go back to normal. You would be born and grow up, normal. We would be a family..."

"Please, don't say normal." He smiled.

"Your mother's bad feeling... I don't know what is was about exactly. She got scared too in that moment and it was the only time I saw her that scared. But I know that mine became true. Only, it was even worse. There was no blame. Of all things that happened in those months, how worried I was with my father, you, Camila and even Dean... The hunts, the confusion and overwhelming information all at once. The fear. Your mother's death was the most sudden and painful." You saw a tear run down his cheek, followed by a couple more. Sam had more to say but you spoke before, in the heat of the moment.

"She knew." He looked back at you, now with red eyes. "I think she knew something bad was going to happen."

"She knew we would be in danger." By we, he meant himself, his uncle and your grandpa.

"No. Not that. She knew that something terrible was happening already and would get worse. But she didn't tell you to go to stop it." His tears froze, lost in your words. "Like you said. Camila was always right about this bad feelings. She was certain." You were sure thanks to your own experience with it.

"About Dean needing me more than her?" You denied.

"About you needing the rest of your family once I was born."

#sam x daughter!reader #dean x niece!reader #castiel x platonic!reader #sam x daughter au #dean x niece au #castiel x platonic au #dad!sam winchester #uncle!dean winchester #uncle!castiel #winchester!reader #winchester!daughter #sam winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester x niece!reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural au

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago

Text

You Knock Me Out, I Fall Apart

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

“I do not have a concussion. You’re simply so irritating that it makes my head spin.”

“Alfred, tell him he has a concussion.”

“Master Damian—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Pennyworth. I’m fine.”

Dick tugs off his cowl, his sweat-soaked hair flopping back into place. He’ll never get used to the hundred-pound leather batsuit; he has no clue how Bruce managed to feel more comfortable in this thing than in his own skin. It’s like wearing a sweaty head-to-toe smock. “Stop being difficult about this, Damian.” “Stop treating me like a child,” the literal child challenges. “Sorry to break it to you, but you are a child.” Damian rips off his own mask as he stomps through the Batcave, shoving past Alfred like his anger has eaten all of the polite genes in his body. Or maybe he’s thrown more off balance than he cares to admit. “Fuck you.” Dick sighs. “Alfred, will you please check his head? He got hit with a baseball bat on patrol. I think he has a concussion.” “I do not have a concussion. You’re simply so irritating that it makes my head spin.” “Alfred, tell him he has a concussion.” “Master Damian—” “Don’t finish that sentence, Pennyworth. I’m fine.”

Damian doesn’t even bother properly putting away his costume. He throws his gloves and cape on the ground as he goes upstairs, leaving the pieces of his costume to be picked up by someone else. Dick is still working on teaching him the whole “respect” thing. Dick rubs the back of his neck, massages out the cricks. He’s so exhausted wrangling this kid day in, day out. They’ve only been patrolling together for three days and it’s a constant battle to reign Damian in, keep him from doing something he’ll regret. Dick understands how Damian is feeling. Of course he’s hurt over his father’s death, no matter how little time they had together before it happened. Dick gets loss, knows exactly what it’s like to lose a parent at a young age. And he wants to help the kid, but he’s woefully out of his depth here. He’s never done this before. Even with Jason and Tim, Bruce was the primary mentor/father figure. Dick was just the cool older brother who gave good hugs and was always around to talk shit about said mentor/father figure. Now Dick is the mentor/father figure. He’s not cut out for this. “I’d advise you to be patient with the boy,” Alfred tells him. “He is going through a loss, just as you are. Not to mention the violent tendencies he is still overcoming.” “I’ve been patient. He’s just not getting it.” “Need I remind you that you posed your own challenge when you first came to live with us? Master Bruce must have spent weeks breaking down your walls and getting you to open up to us.” Dick rolls his eyes. “I was never this difficult when I was Damian’s age.” “Trust me, you were. But Bruce adapted. He realized that if he wanted to get through to you, he needed to work with you, rather than against you.” “And that worked?” “With time.” Alfred puts a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Be gentle with him. Damian may be an assassin, but beneath all that he is still a boy who lost his father. Keep that in mind when you talk to him, hm?” He hands Dick an ice pack. “Good luck.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damian is perfectly fine. No one in the League of Assassins ever took a day off because of a little concussion, if it even is that. He sits on his bed, having changed out of his Robin uniform and into some pajamas. He was about to brush his teeth, but his head is spinning too much to stand at the moment. It feels like he’s on a carnival ride, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He can get stabbed five times and not break a sweat. He can handle a small head injury. Then, like it’s teasing him on purpose, his stomach cartwheels and Damian goes pale. He bounds up and runs to the bathroom. He makes it there just in time to vomit, retching up his pre-patrol dinner. Someone knocks on the door. “Damian? Are you okay?” Damian chokes on bile, willing the dizziness to subside. “Go away, Grayson.” There’s a sigh on the other side of the door. “I’m just trying to help.” “I don’t”—Damian pitches forward and vomits again—“I don’t need any help.” How many times does he need to say it? He was just fine before Grayson decided to meddle in his life, acting like he cares. The nausea eventually passes. Damian stands on shaky legs, squinting against the brightness of the bathroom. When he leaves he finds Grayson sitting on his bed with an ice pack and a bottle of ibuprofen. “How are you feeling?” “Don’t patronize me.” “I’m not.” Dick holds out the pills. “Here. For the headache.” “I don’t have a headache.” Even though he does. “Humor me.” Reluctantly, Damian takes the pills. Not because his head hurts badly enough to warrant painkillers, of course not. But if he gives in, maybe Grayson will stop whining and leave him alone. He just wants to go to sleep. The lights in here are even brighter than in the bathroom, but to turn them off while Grayson is still here would be broadcasting his weakness. Damian climbs onto the bed, keeping a safe distance. Grayson tries to give him the ice pack, but Damian swats him away. “I don’t need that.” “Your head hurts.” “I can handle it.” Grayson sighs again. “Just let me check your head and make sure it’s a minor concussion. Two seconds.” “I’m fine.” How many times does Damian need to say it? “You’re not.” Damian’s eyes narrow. “Don’t try and tell me what I’m feeling. My well-being is none of your business.” “Actually, it is my business. We’re partners now, which makes your health my responsibility. That’s how being Batman and Robin works.” Damian scoffs. “Don’t pretend that being Batman gives you any real authority. You aren’t anywhere near my father’s level.” “I know I’m not, but I’m trying my best. If we’re going to be a team, then I need you to meet me halfway.” Damian can’t help but snort. “Suddenly we’re a team? If you really trusted me, you would believe me when I say I’m fine. You wouldn’t coddle me against my will, treating me like a helpless child.” “You are a child, Damian. You’re a ten-year-old boy. Like it or not, you’re a child. And right now, my job is to keep you safe. That means making sure you’re okay whenever a thug with a baseball bat whacks you in the skull. That’s my job.” “I can take care of myself!” “No, actually, you can’t! If tonight is any indication, I can’t trust you to look after your own health. And I know I’m annoying and the worst person on the face of the earth for daring to help you, but kiddo—” Damian’s head snaps to face him, his body going rigid. “Don’t call me that. I am not your son, and you are not my father!” Dick flinches like he’s been struck. “That’s—Damian, I’m not—” He stops. Closes his eyes, takes a breath. “I’m sorry,” he says, quieter this time. “I’m not trying to replace your dad. Our dad. That’s not what I want.” “Whatever.” Damian pulls his pillow over his face, trying to drown out the sights and sounds around him. “Just go away.” For once, Grayson allows himself to be stern when he says, “No. We’re talking about this now. Take off the pillow and look at me.” For some absurd reason, Damian finds himself obeying. It’s the first time Grayson has shown to have anything resembling a spine in the last three days. “I’m not Bruce,” he says. “I couldn’t be him if I tried. But just because Bruce is...because he’s gone, that doesn’t mean we’re going to forget about him. I will never forget him for as long as I live, and I know you won’t either. You deserve to have your father, and I know exactly how you feel now that he’s gone. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere if I can help it. I’ll be whatever you need, if that’s a brother or a mentor or a Batman.” He looks into Damian’s eyes, open and sincere. “I promise you, Damian, I will never take your father’s place if you don’t want me to.” Damian keeps his expression carefully unchanged. “Good.” “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try to guide you and keep you safe however I can. So, how about this: I won’t try and take Bruce’s place as your dad, and you let me help you when you need it. Like when you have a head injury, for example.” He sticks out his hand. “Deal?” After a moment of deliberation, Damian shakes his hand. “Deal.”

#whumptober 2020 #no.26 #concussion #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #batman #batman and robin #batfamily #batfam #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

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