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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years ago

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Only You

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Even though the odds seemed to be stacked against the two of you, you always find little moments.

Warnings: mild angst, fluff and kisses

(not my gif)

The lavishly designed ballroom was filled with just about every Slytherin within the wizarding world, the select ones chosen by his mother anyway, joined together for no particular reason other than to bask in their luxuries. Above all else, this carefully chosen group of individuals felt as though they were superior despite the events of the war.

Draco has stopped believing that thought to be true long before this night, having little to no interest in subjecting himself to thoughtless conversation with his parents many acquaintances. Especially not when such conversations inevitably carry the undesirable subject of the Dark Lord. He never wanted to utter a word about him. As far as he was concerned, the war concluded nearly five years ago and the threat was gone. He found there to be no reason to talk about him anymore. Not one of them had ever asked how he had been doing, or anything personal about him for that matter. Though with more thought, he doesn’t believe he’d ever divulge that information to them.

He wanted nothing to do with this, wanted to strip away his title as the Slytherin Prince and the awful mark on his arm that came with it. It wasn’t worth it in the slightest. However, his parents were not privy to this information, nor had they asked if he wanted any of this. He didn’t hold any malice toward Slytherin as a whole, but the things it’s put him through were something he’ll never forget.

He finds he’s grateful these kinds of events are very few and far between, but there’s never specific dates set in stone for them. It always takes him by surprise whenever his mother appears in his bedroom doorway informing him of such a thing, telling him to wear his best suit and not to leave his hair be as unruly as it had currently been. They’re the only times of the year that the Manor isn’t filled with silence save for the ticking of the clocks and the tap of his fathers unnecessary walking stick. He’d prefer it to this. The silence is much less nauseating than the constant clinking of glasses and humorless laughter, but it seemed to be of the few things keeping Narcissa happy while her husband was in Azkaban. He’d much rather hide away in the privacy of his room with a book than to be there, he’d only been standing along the same wall for the last forty-five minutes anyway.

Though subtly, he could sense something different, whether everyone else had been aware of it he wasn’t sure. But he knew exactly the cause and he found himself setting down the overly expensive goblet he drank from on a nearby table, slipping out of the large room with a cautious gaze over his shoulder. Not a single person had batted an eye at his absence, not that he expected them to. For being so important as the Malfoy heir, no one ever seemed to notice him.

His strides were quick and purposeful as he navigated the dimly lit halls, gaze flickering around every darkened corner he passed by. Nothing ever seemed to make him feel quite so excited as you did, even if your visits were far riskier for your safety than he’d like. But his heart leapt in his chest in anticipation as his instincts lead him where to go, hoping you’d actually be there rather than his gut feeling being false. Though any break, large or small, from that terribly boring formal event was one that would suffice. But he’d rather it be with you. He’d always rather be with you.

Arriving at the large mahogany double doors, he gave one final look at his surroundings for wandering gazes and prying eyes. He made his leave through the door on the right hand side to be specific, having learned from his numerous late night rendezvous’ that the left has got the noisy hinges.

He made his way down the old stone steps, taking in the expanse of the garden before him as the fresh air hits him. It takes a bit of searching before he spots what he’s looking for.

There you stood, hand lightly sweeping along the delicate petals of the numerous flowers residing in the large garden. Your dress was rather fitting for the summer evening, flowing and casual, holding far more color than the sea of dark green and black attire filling the entirety of that ballroom. It was a contrast to the suit he wore, which was comparable to the night sky he stood beneath.

“Love?”

You turned around, smiling warmly at the sight of your beau. The space between you was quickly closed as you rushed over, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What are you doing here?” He continues, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind your ear with a gentle swipe of his fingertips before he settles his hand to rest on your cheek. He watched as your expression changed from fond to that of a playful one.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you don’t want to see me,” you say, tilting your head to the side with a raised brow. His expression was quick to change at your words, eyes widening a fraction in mild panic.

“No!” He rushes, pressing a kiss on your lips that was very much not rushed, rather one of reassurance as his fingers splayed across your cheek. “All I want is to see you. But if anyone finds you here, I don’t know what would—”

His flustered explanation is promptly silenced by your lips once more, any form of tension beginning to dissipate from his body as he relishes this very moment. One he feels is over too soon when you part, a teasing smile on your lips.

“That always seems to be an effective way of shutting you up,” you quip as you laugh softly, tracing the pad of your thumb along his lightly flushed cheeks. Despite the very cute fact that he was blushing, he rolls his eyes at your very true remark, resting his forehead on yours. “Besides, the moment you told me about that ball it was all the more reason to come and see you.”

His smile is almost unseen in the close proximity, his arms encircling your waist in an embrace so tight it sends you stumbling back a step or two with a squeal. Soft kisses were peppered on your neck, leaving hushed laughter in their wake. He basked in your very presence, soaking in every second he had with you as if it was his last, all while hoping there’d never be a last to worry about.

“I believe I’m supposed to be the knight in shining armor saving you, not the other way around,” he says with a soft smile when he looks at you again. The moonlight makes his gray eyes sparkle, his platinum hair seeming silver-like in the natural lighting. He seemed to have abandoned his mother’s wishes of styling his hair for the event. Regardless, the happiness adorning every inch of his face was something only reserved for you.

“When have I ever followed the rules?”

He gives you a fond look in answer as his smile widens, letting go of your hands and you frown as he leaves your side momentarily. You watch as he inspects the vast floral arrangement in front of him, and he plucks a single flower from its rightful spot amongst a sea of others similar to it, offering it to you with a softer grin. It was not a rose, he felt that would be too cliche. He didn’t know the specific name for this one but it was not a rose. His mother wouldn’t notice just one flower missing, at least he’d hoped not. But the way you beamed at him made any and all repercussions worth it should there be any.

The flower was bright, it’s petals colorful and ruffled and rather beautiful. He felt it was symbolic to you. Of the light you brought to his life, making his otherwise black and white outlook on the world turn to one that’s full of color and promise. And of course he thought you were the most beautiful person he has and ever will lay his eyes on. To him that was a known fact, one that was not open for debate.

He watched as you smelled it, a pale blush just barely visible coloring your cheeks at the sweet gesture.

“Do you know what a pink hydrangea means, Draco?” You ask softly, your arms resting around his neck.

You always seem to know a little something about everything, he thinks to himself.

“Do enlighten me, love,” he murmurs distractedly, his breath tickling just under your ear.

You laugh quietly at the sensation, your heart fluttering when he pressed a chaste kiss there. It had stolen your train of thought for only a brief moment, his mere presence intoxicating, but the delicate flower in your hand quickly jogged your memory. “When given to someone, a pink hydrangea is said to symbolize sincere emotion and love.”

He pulled back to look at you, a gentle smile adorning his lips as his eyes took in every inch of your face. The rosy tint in your cheeks deepened a shade as his thumb traced along the curve of your bottom lip, his eyes glinting with what could only be adoration.

“I knew I was drawn to it for a reason,” he says, dropping his hand to envelop your own. The cold metal of his ring sent a shiver along your spine despite the warm summer evening. “Because sincerely, darling, I am completely and madly in love with you.”

Without hesitation, you lean on your toes and press your lips on his, fingers carefully tangling in the platinum hair at the nape of his neck. It felt as though your heart was bursting in your chest, set aflame at his very words. Or how it somersaulted as he held you as close as he possibly could.

“I love you,” he whispers between soft kisses, again and again, until he’s too breathless to continue.

“I love you,” you murmur with a kiss to his nose, then to his cheek, and another to his lips. “Completely.”

The blush traveling up his neck is immediate, his toothy grin a rare sight in recent days but it was one you never failed to bring out. He never fully understood how he deserved the affections of someone he deemed to be the most wonderful person he’s ever known, he knows he’ll never grasp that concept. But it’s one he finds himself fortunate for with every day that passes with you.

The echoed sound of his name tugs him from his lovestruck daze and has him turning to look over his shoulder, dread pulling at his heart when he turns back to you. He grasps your hands in his own with a lingering squeeze, sighing deeply as he gazes at you. “Wait here for me?”

In that moment, he swears to himself to start looking for other places to reside in, perhaps a place of your own now that you were no longer just two kids in love. Surely he had enough savings to do so because he was growing tired of loving you in secret.

You nod at the soft question, a silent promise and he kisses you once more. He’s unwilling to let you go, always was, but moments pass before he finally does and he turns away as he walks. Though he finds himself looking back to cast one last glance your way before apparating to a place much less obvious to the person who’d called him, hoping his kiss swollen lips aren’t terribly noticeable.

No matter who disapproved, you’ll always have those little moments.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy one shot #harry potter fic

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singtheskyandfightlikehell · 4 years ago

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BatFamily Headcanons: Stuffed Animals

In an attempt to productively combat my recent writer’s block, I’m practicing writing the batfam characters through short character study fics (which I will post once I make enough) and comparative headcanons. I might end up making short fics out of these, as well, since some of them got a bit long anyways

Today I decided to explore how many stuffed animals each member of the batfam (plus an adjacent character or two) has, what they think of them, how they got them, etc. I’ve got eleven characters on this list (and I’m still missing some, sorry)

Bruce:

Bruce put aside stuffed animals when he was eleven, deciding it was time to become serious. However, since acquiring children, he has been gifted a number of stuffed animals, ranging from a small and realistic brown bat to a child-sized bear wearing his cape and cowl. None of the children know this, but he keeps them all in a prominent position in his walk-in closet. Sometimes, when he has a particularly nasty fight with one of his kids, or he discovers something (like an injury) that they were hiding from him, he’ll tell the stuffed animals all the things he struggles to tell his children in the hopes that, one day, he’ll figure out how to express himself when it actually counts.

Alfred:

Alfred has no stuffed animals of his own, but he keeps the old, worn teddy bear that was once Thomas’ and later Bruce��s, alongside the somewhat lopsided bunny that Martha attempted to sew for Bruce when he was two. They sit side by side in a spotless glass cabinet filled with other memories that various members of the family have at one point or another attempted to cast aside.

Dick:

Dick has a pair of stuffed elephants, Eleonore and Zitka, and a teddy bear of his own, all from the circus. Most of the time they sit on the shelf under one of his nightstands, but when he has a particularly bad day, he’ll hold them all tightly until he falls asleep. If he’s crying, he finds it slows the tears to press kisses to the tops of their heads, or just smoosh his whole face into them. Sometimes, if he’s having a particularly good day – especially if no one else is sharing in his good mood – he’ll tell them about whatever made him happy. The rarest occasions are a bittersweet combination of both, the moments when he dwells on his happiest memories of his parents. When this happens, he is more likely to address them than his family, talking to them like old friends who were “there” for the things he’s recalling. It reminds him of the parties he would host as a small child, attended by his stuffed animals and his parents and sometimes other people from the giant family that was Haly’s, and for just that moment he’ll feel suspended somewhere between grief and content.

Barbara:

Barbara had lots of stuffed animals growing up, but as she got older, she gave most of them away. The only one she kept was a little otter that her father gave her for her first birthday. She doesn’t remember this, of course, but they have an old home video of that day which she’s seen a few times, and she know it’s one of her dad’s favorites to watch when he’s feeling nostalgic. She does remember the way she used to drag the otter with her everywhere she went when she was about four, and it’s so worn now that all of its original fluffiness has disappeared. She sets it up near her main computer and uses it in place of a rubber duck.

Jim:

When Babs decided she was too old for her stuffed animals, Jim was instructed to give them away at one of the Gotham children’s toy drives he helps run as commissioner. Only about half of them ever make it out of the house, because he keeps looking at them and remembering little moments that involve each of them. He has two boxes full of them that he swears he’s going to bring to the next drive, but he’s been swearing that for over ten years now.

Jason:

When Jason first arrived at the manor, he swore up and down that stuffed animals were dumb kids toys that he was way too old for. The first time Dick showed up at the manor after Jason was there, he brought a plush dog he’d picked up on the way there, unsure what to get his surprise new brother but not putting an excess of thought into it either. After all, he wasn’t about to ask Bruce what Jason might like. Jason made a show of scorn and tossing the toy in the trash, but when Dick was gone he dug it back out. When he was sleeping, he clutched the dog protectively against his chest like it might be snatched away at any time. When he wasn’t sleeping, he kept it hidden in a box wedged under a floorboard beneath the bed, alongside his other contraband. It was there when he died and it’s still there now. Every time he’s in the manor, he thinks about sneaking into his old room to retrieve it, alongside some of his other old belongings, but he never does. His reasoning alternates between not caring, being too old for toys, not wanting to set foot in his old room, and not wanting to get caught caring after all these years.

He does however have an obnoxiously long bright red snake that Roy won at some sort of archery carnival game while they were supposed to be tracking a suspect. He’d griped at Roy for wasting time with frivolous games, a complaint that was very on brand for their relationship. He’s pretty sure Roy saw through him, though, and understood the real reason he was so antsy to leave the carnival, given his soft apology later that night. He also recently acquired a floppy stingray, a gift from Lian for his latest birthday. She told him that she’d gotten to pet a stingray at the aquarium where she’d bought it, and it reminded her of him. Specifically, she’d said he was, “Kinda dangerous and maybe a little scary, but actually really soft to anyone who’s nice enough”. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that description, but the gift had a place of pride, resting atop an old model of his helmet that Roy had “defaced” with a sweet message that always made Jason smile.

Cass:

Cass grew up without stuffed animals, and was honestly a little confused at first about why she might want one. The first one she ever got was a tiny key-chain cat that was given to her by a little girl she saved. She was unsure what to make of the object itself, but she treasured it as a symbol, proof that she was doing good in the world. It was Steph who convinced her to look for more, to look for stuffed animals in her “style”. Eventually, she got two of the most different ones she could find: an iridescent octopus packed tightly with beans and made of a coarse fabric, and a large fluffy goose that squished like a cloud and was made of the softest fabric imaginable. She likes tossing the octopus lightly in the air to feel the weight of it, and faceplanting into the giant goose. She also has a big bear holding a plush heart that Steph got her for their first Valentine’s.

Tim:

Tim’s relationship with stuffed animals is a bit more complicated. He had five growing up: a dog, a bear, a lion, a rabbit, and a lamb. They had names, stories, personalities, and they were his friends (his only friends, at the time). When he was seven, he woke up one day to find them gone. His mother scolded him for his tears, explaining that he was too old for baby toys, and that his attachment to them would only hinder his path forward. For years, he felt ashamed whenever he thought of his grief towards them, because he knew they were just toys, he knew he was being a baby about it, and yet…

It wasn’t until he was fifteen years old and stumbled across an article about autistic people and the projection of feelings onto objects that he understood why he had been willing to sneak out at night to search through pawn store after pawn store and – once – the landfill in the hopes of seeing his beloved toys again. As a teen in the Wayne household, he knew he could get as many stuffed animals as he liked, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so after what had happened before. He got one giant, floppy moose, barely half a foot shorter than himself, that he clings to like an octopus when he manages to lay down, whether he succeeds in falling asleep or not. Additionally, on a night after Jason made amends with the family, Tim returned to his room to find a fifteen inch plush latte with a cute little face on the mug portion and a sticky note on top that simply read: Sorry for trying to kill you a bunch. My bad :) He keeps it on top of his dresser, and while he doesn’t really hug it, he did discover it was the perfect object for chucking at his siblings’ heads whenever the situation calls for it.

Steph:

Steph loves stuffed animals. While she never got any of the fancy brand name ones, or the luxuriously soft ones, or the hyper-realistic ones, her mom had a tradition of buying her one for every birthday, Christmas, and Easter. She soon had quite a collection, and – like Tim – she gave them all names and personalities. She played out complex scenarios with them and the few dolls she had, designing an intricate world of wild concepts and plots. She also used her stuffed animals to conquer her fears, like thunderstorms and darkness, by pretending they were all more scared than she was, so she had to be brave for all of them. Steph still has her whole collection, as well as quite a few “nicer” (though equally loved) ones that she has acquired from various Waynes. At this point, pretty much everyone in the Wayne family has given her a stuffed animal at some time or other. For a couple of years now, she has taken to posing with her massive collection and making fake family Christmas cards to send out to everyone she knows, where she will update them on the well-being of any plushie they’ve given her.

Duke:

Duke also has a great love of stuffed animals, although he doesn’t match Steph for quantity. He only had a few beloved animals growing up, all of which he’s held onto (a panda, a penguin, a turtle, a frog, a leopard, and a pikachu). Since being fostered by Bruce, Duke has taken to searching out and buying only the rarest stuffed animals he can find: an anteater, a platypus, a manatee, a sloth, and an axolotl have made the cut so far. Bruce knows about this and has taken to keeping an eye out for anything interesting whenever he’s out. After accidentally mentioning it at a gala one time, it has since become his favorite topic, as getting drawn into an intense discussion with Bruce Wayne about where to acquire strange plushies for his son elicits one of two reactions from his guests: delighted awws or hilariously awkward attempts to steer the conversation back to high society definitions of business and pleasure. At Duke’s request, a large shelf was built around the top of his room, so that all of his stuffed animals can sit comfortably and be clearly seen.

Damian:

Damian was much like Jason when he arrived at the manor in more ways than one, but his determination to prove himself above stuffed animals was certainly on that list. He sneered at his siblings’ attempts to treat him like the child he swore he wasn’t. And honestly, even after he began to lower his walls just a little, he still wasn’t particularly fond of stuffed animals. Sure, he privately thought they were cute, and sure he might (might) find himself holding one at night if it happened to have been left in his bed by an annoying sibling, but in general he preferred live animals to fake ones. Real animals had personalities and feelings, fake ones did not, it was as simple as that, no matter what Stephanie claimed. But as time went on, Damian found himself acquiring a small army of stuffed animals against his will. Some of his siblings (Jason, Tim, sometimes Duke) gave them to him because they found it funny to watch him growl about how he was not an infant in need of deceitful comforts. Some of his siblings (Dick, Cass, sometimes Duke… sometimes his father as well) would give them to him because they knew he liked animals so they assumed he’d like imitations of animals as well. Steph would just give them to everybody, every now and then. But regardless of motive, Damian soon found his room overflowing with stuffed animals that were moderately cute but ultimately pointless.

It wasn’t until a patrol a few years after he’d taken on the mantle of Robin that he discovered a solution. Tim had hidden a tiny stuffed bear in the medical supply compartment of his utility belt, a felt bandage wrapped around its little head. He hadn’t been wounded, but the young girl he’d rescued had been bleeding from a wound that looked worryingly dirty. The bear had fallen out of the pouch, right into her lap, and she’d stared at it with wide eyes, surprise halting the flow of her tears. She’d held onto it the whole time he disinfected her arm and bandaged it, and afterwards he had insisted she keep it. For the first time that night, she’d smiled. After that, Damian began taking a few of his many stuffed animals out on patrol with him, ready to hand out to any and all injured, lost, or otherwise traumatized children once he’d rescued them from their troubles. Eventually he began running out of toys he’d been gifted, even though he kept getting new ones, so at some point he begins to regularly sneak out for the sole purpose of acquiring stuffed animals to hand out. He never tells his siblings, but he suspects they’ve found out anyway, when the presents they give him drastically decrease in size.

#batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #jim gordon #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jayroy #stephcass #my headcanons #i stole elements of the hc for dick tim steph and duke from my own personality lmao #also the only portion of this that draws on canon (to my knowledge) is the stuff about dick #i've seen stuff about him having a stuffed elephant with both of those names so i decided to just give him two #can't go wrong with extra elephants #but yeah i hope there's nothing that like blatantly contradicts any of this stuff #i'm trying to speed read a bunch of comics rn but i keep reading like 50s-80s era primarily #so there's a number of characters i haven't really gotten to yet #also i've discovered i find green arrow comics more entertaining so lowkey i keep reading those instead oops #i have a very convoluted list of what i need to read to hit the major plot points of batfam and arrowfam #but i also lowkey feel like major plot point comics are gonna tell me less about characterization #filler episodes are where its at #but there's no reading order lists that give me 'best filler issues' sorted by character

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adiabolikpastel · 3 years ago

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Title: Lunar Eclipse Masquerade

Kanato pt. 3

Rating: PG

Word Count: 825

Pairing: Kanato x Yuuki (mxf)

ღ Kanato and Yuuki revile in their bliss - despite the evenings earlier triggers. What better way to send the night off then with a dance. ღ

Mun Yu: We did it! These are the last pieces of the LEM story. The end to our Lunar Eclipse. I hope that you have enjoyed the ride, and gotten to know the stories on this blog better! Tune in at the end of it all for Authors Notes!

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ﾟ｡. +ﾟ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

Despite what most people think, demonic beings are very social creatures. The elites hold countless balls and parties, celebrating their immortality together, and entertaining one another with stories. Typically, they are done in celebration for something – though this is not always the case. All types of beings from across the Demon Realm will come if the host is of high enough prestige.

There would be no such host if it was not for Karlheinz. Seated as the head of the Bat Clan (vampires), Karl’s reach spans far. Being the widow for the former Demon King’s daughter, and having children of the first blood, an invitation from the Vampire King is not one to refuse. Though why would you? In his immaculate castle within the Demon Realm, Eden Castle, it is always quite the spectacle. While the celebrations held in his Human World mansion are nice, nothing compares to a true night of pleasure within the true home of the King.

On this night, there was to be a Masquerade in honor of the first Lunar Eclipsed Moon in over two years. While this night may serve each species differently, the idea to celebrate its return was simply too tempting. For this reason, Karlheinz took it upon himself – or rather – his house, to host the event. This extended to his offspring as well, regardless of their personal agenda. Members of every social elite race accepted the offer, and gathered for a truly unforgettable evening

Yuuki followed behind Kanato as they walked back to the Grand Ball Room. Their fingers locked together, she could barely hide the afterglow form their love making. While her clothes were only slightly winkled, under them were was riddled with markings. Though that wasn’t really new, nor did she mind.

Each mark was another symbol of Kanato’s love. At least that was how she felt about them. He loved her so much to place a mark on her body – kind of like how some people get tattoos. Yuuki preferred these two a tattoo any day, after all, they were put on her by Kanato himself. What could be more perfect?

As the two of them arrived back, Yuuki moved next to Kanato. “Kanato-san, do you want to get some more sweets? Maybe they still have some, since you weren’t able to finish them before.”

Kanato nods, “I want to eat them all so no one else can have any.”

Yuuki only laughs, even with his appetite for sweets, she wasn’t sure even Kanato could eat an entire Masquerade’s supply of sweets. The two spend some time eating, it turned out that Kanato’s appetite was larger than Yuuki thought. He really did nearly finish the entire spread.

“Uguuu… Kanato-san no more!” Yuuki groans holding her stomach. Between the two of them, she definitely had the weaker stomach. “I think it’s time we head home…”

Kanato quietly munched on a piece of cake. “… thought you wanted… to…” He tried to mumble something, but it was lost in the bites of cake.

Yuuki tilts her head, what could Kanato have said? She thought for a moment. Something that must have happened earlier in the evening. Something she wanted…?

“Oh! Yes! Kanato-san could we dance, please!?

Kanato blushes slightly at her loud proposal. “… You ruined it. I was going to ask you…” He glares, pouting slighting as he finished the last slice of cake. “Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? The man ask the woman to dance.”

Yuuki’s eyes widen a bit, “Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t… know you wanted to ask me…” She blushes, moving some hair behind her ear. “If… Kanato-san were to ask me… I think I might just die of happiness.” She covers her face, thinking of how charming Kanato would look as a proper gentleman asking for her hand in a dance.

“Hmhp, well now you ruined it.” Kanato says wiping his hands. Yuuki felt her heart sink a bit at his words. Did this mean he didn’t want to dance with her anymore? Perhaps if she asked him nicely?

Just as Yuuki was about to ask him again, Kanato extends his hand out to her. Confused – Yuuki looks over at her keeper. Waiting for his explanation. “Well come on then. You asked me to dance didn’t you? I’m waiting.”

It took Yuuki a moment to process, but then it clicked. With a big smile, she stood quickly and took Kanato’s hand. “Thank you! Let’s dance, Kanato-san!” She giggles, pulling him onto the dance floor.

Thankfully there were fewer guest around than before. Yuuki happily took both of Kanato’s hands, twirling the two of them around a bit. She was simply too excited. Actually dancing with Kanato, after all these years – he never wanted to dance with her.

“Slow down! I cannot keep up with this.” Kanato warns, sounding upset.

Yuuki slows down, and slowly leads Kanato in a simple waltz. “Sorry Kanato-san. I got too excited~ we’ve never danced together before.”

Kanato grumbles and follows Yuuki’s lead. He occasionally looks down at his feet, clearly not confident in his ability. “That is because dancing is confusing. Even when I was younger, this was too hard for me.” He confesses, trying not to step on Yuuki’s feet.

Yuuki couldn’t help but laugh, Kanato was just too cute! She adored this side of him. Normally so confident and bratty. Yet now he was like a child, working hard at something new. Doing it for her sake, no less. In a moment of passion, Yuuki pulls Kanato close, burring her face in his chest. “Kanato-san… I love you!”

Startled a bit, Kanato blushes at her sudden affection. “You are going to make us fall.” He whines, stepping back from her. “Turn around.” He orders, releasing on of her hands, and helping her twirl.

With a firm hand, Kanato grabs onto her waist. As her back moves against him, Kanato lift Yuuki just slightly, causing her dress to dance along her legs. As she lands, he nestles between her shoulder and neck. “Do not get used to this. Tonight was a special occasion.” With a smile, Kanato plants a small kiss on Yuuki’s neck.

Unable to truly process what happened, all Yuuki can do is smile. She holds onto Kanato’s hand tight. Enjoying simply being so close with him. “Thank you, Kanato-san.” She whispers, wish the rest of the night could be just like this.

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ﾟ｡. +ﾟ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ROUTE END ☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

#writing #Lunar Eclipse Masquerade #LEM

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years ago

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more like honeymoon [1]

stuck in the prison world together with kai, and it turns out to be awesome

kai parker x reader (ER)

word count: ~4160

warnings: mentions of suicide, suicide, graphic violence, glorification of violence

music: right in the text + darkside by iann dior and travis barker

DON’T WORRY BE HAPPY by Bobby McFerrin segment

You danced, while making sandwiches. This kitchen rocked. They had... they used to have about four hundred types of cheese.

The only thing they lacked seemed to be black bread, so you were forced to make one yourself. Kai was a bit grumpy about it since he wanted to move on to the library, and you got stuck in this hotel. He ended up going without you, while you had a go at making bread, and returned with a hip of books that he threw around in the lobby. He moved all the cozy puffed armchairs together and created a neat nest that didn’t seem to have an end, right in the middle. You were still getting used to how incredibly stylish everything was back in ‘94. The year was absolutely special to you, and you couldn’t have wished for a better year to get stuck in. The best music was already out, the fashion was on its peak, and they already thought of creating relatively skinny jeans - not the kind you enjoyed in the new world, but not the baggy horror of the eighties, either.

It’s been one month and a half that you stayed in the prison world, and it was going very well. So far, it felt to you like a long prepaid holiday with absolutely no restrictions. You were breaking into houses and raided supermarkets, you could visit any cafe and any shop, Kai changed cars every day unless it was a Chevy; maybe there was something dramatically wrong with your head, you had no way of knowing.

You were spreading California cheese on fresh, still warm slice of black bread, dancing goofily to music, and chopping tomatoes.

Kai was resting like a little birdie among the expensive cushions which you knew he’d spot with the tomatoes or the cheese, and you still brought the food out. He gasped, excited, and threw the books away, and you stuffed your faces.

Every day, which was the same day again and again, you discovered the new shades of good in him which was frankly unthinkable before. Kai Parker good; but it seemed like being back in prison either broke him completely, or, more likely, put him back into the environment he knew well. Sooner or later you work out your comfort zone; some people, spending years in imprisonment, learn to live and enjoy the place. Not because they’re weak, but because it’s a survival instinct. Kai’s survival instinct was unbelievably strong.

You listened to music and traveled, and every day you asked yourself when the horror will settle in, and it still didn’t. Looked like, with the right company, and the whole world to explore, the magical prison world could seem like a resort.

COME WITH ME by Phil Collins segment

You were standing on the edge of the Canyon. Kai was holding your hand, clearly thinking about something.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been here before”, he muttered.

You were considering other things.

“Where’s the path again?”

��Right there, where the river turns. There’s a narrow way between the rocks that leads up”.

He looked at you. The sun was slowly going up, climbing over the red mountains, coloring them in insane shades.

“We don’t have to do it, if you’re afraid”.

His face gave a mocking expression as he squeezed your hand lightly.

“I’m not afraid”.

“Then just do it. I gotta say, the first thing I’ll do when we get out, I will marry you”.

You got distracted from your thoughts by this. You looked at him. The rising sun was coloring him, too. Kai had that kind of face which you always wanted to hold. It was just so... holdable.

“You fucking with me?”

He shook his head with a smile.

“No. This place doesn’t even feel like a prison anymore. I love it. Because of you”.

Of course he loved it. He had the whole planet at his disposal, but he wasn’t alone anymore. He still had magic from the merge, and he was high and lovestruck. He was about to jump from the Grand Canyon and fall to death, and then come back and continue his journey.

You’d asked him before which way to die was the most painful. This was about to be your first time dying. Before that, you only witnessed people die.

He said being crashed by a car slowly was probably objectively the most painful. He has never set himself on fire because he wasn’t crazy.

The irony completely escaped him.

Feeling your joints tear, and bones shatter, and all, that’s the worst. But psychologically, suicide was scarier. Knowing that it’s your own hands doing that. Falling from a height like that, there was danger of breaking something and staying alive for a fragment of a second, being horrified by the violent collision with the sharp pieces of rocks, but you wouldn’t probably even notice. Jumping from the Canyon was your idea, and that was why he got so inspired.

You looked at each other. Dying together is fucking symbolic, and this world rocked. For a second there you thought, even if you didn’t know you would resurrect, you would still jump, as long as his hand was holding yours.

You interlocked your fingers not to lose each other too soon, and hopped down. The air whistled and howled in your ears as you fell down. It’s nothing like flying, you thought with disappointment. And too fast, as well. You see nothing but the racing red stone. The feeling of being free is still good, until you crash into the first step of the hard mountain, crushing your skull in several pieces.

The Grand Canyon didn’t hear you two die, it was too big.

It took you the whole day to get out, but it was okay because the next day was the same again.

HEARTS IN FLAMES by Red 7 segment

And the next one. And the next. You discovered something you kinda know, but can’t fathom completely until you actually go there: on the other side of the world, it began with night, because it was the eleventh of May after midnight. Somewhere, the time was going further, and somewhere it was slower.

You rode down the long sandy and stone roads in the deserts, and sped as much as you could, not afraid to crash. You ate at any place you wanted to, Kai showed you the ‘secret’ recipe of making the McDonald’s fries, and he cooked it so well you didn’t see any difference. The process looked disgusting, and you knew, once you got out, you’d never go to McDonald’s again.

Once we get out became a kind of a proverb, a catchphrase you used, hopeful and indefinite, and light-hearted. Neither of you really suffered or felt confined in here; you didn’t know when you’d get out, really, because this time the Mystic Falls gang seemingly made sure Kai never has a chance to walk the earth again. You were just there when they tried to send him away, and you wouldn’t have it.

There are several most important moments in a person’s life, and you knew, in a weird way, that was when you and him got absoultely, ultimately connected. It was your chance to stand up for him for once, and, more importantly, to show him that there is somebody after all who refuses to give up on Malachai. So they sent you away, too. Clutching hands together, as you held his open wound, because Kai kicked and bit better than anybody else you knew, and they had to stab him first, you flew away in a tunnel of white light, didn’t feel anything, and it was ‘94 again.

Once we get out had all kinds of plans you weren’t sure you’d fulfill. Like marrying, and getting a car, and moving away from Mystic Falls. Settling down in New Orleans was yours, and burning New Orleans down to the ground was his, because he didn’t want to live there.

Once we get out was a point in the future very vague and distant, because, three months since you landed in the front lawn of the Salvatore mansion in the past, you had only a spell that was useless without Bennett blood. Somebody, whoever hid the spell, overestimated its importance hugely, and went a very hard way to secure it. Kai found it in Florence, of all places. He couldn’t speak any Italian, and your saying you’re fluent in French only made him chuckle with adoration. Do not let it fool you, his adoring chuckle only meant he thought you were a silly creature. French is no use because it’s Italy, bella, he said. Your ass started arguing that a lot is similar in the languages, and he shut you out with jokes. Then went into the library. You preferred to spend time in the streets, cruising around and remembering everything Anne Rice used to write into them.

The spell was scribbled on the piece of yellow paper and put into The Name of Rose. The backup spell which allegedly could go round the whole blood routine. Kai tried it and nothing happened. You weren’t even that sorry, and you both looked at each other long, promising you would keep looking. But honestly...

The whole world. It was yours.

YOU GOT IT by Roy Orbison segment

You had to carry a big bag with you now with the clothes you ‘stole’ from shops because, even though you could change every day, there were still a couple of things you refused to let go of. Kai was trying to teach you to travel light, but the whole life spent in a usual world still had a hold on you.

You realized you liked sweet life, you liked staying at the big houses where the rich people of ‘94 used to live, with all the rich things they had. The pools were the same, and the mini bars, too. May was warm and sunny, especially so in warm and tropical places, and only in Madrid it constantly rained, again and again.

You realized you still had an overall petrifying respect for the pieces of art, but the prison world was an amazing chance to push your limits. Whatever you destroyed, returned back on its place the next day, because it was the same day. You watched Kai swing a bat at Venus herself. The poor gal didn’t have arms for all you knew. He had no mercy for her. Everything here was like a video game. Kai only did it to show you what it feels like. It seemed like he was determined to use this opportunity to make you completely liberate yourself, but something had a hold on him, too.

You danced a lot, you found it especially romantic to dance in the dim lights of the evening in the hotel lobbies. You could choose anything, anywhere, and yet, so it happened that when you finally got tired of traveling non-stop, you found yourselves in Las Vegas. Kai said, awesome, this city has the best hotels. You really doubted that.

But nothing was better than dancing with him, foreheads touching, in the empty, well-furnished space of the Cesar Palace, and sing to each other. Without other people constantly interrupting, the time and schedules, other faces triggering hatred or anxiety in him, it became so easy to just be with each other. You were high on the free wealth, the opportunities this empty planet provided. You had no idea how much Kai was really enjoying it.

The feeling of closeness was overwhelming, even you felt that. Sometimes you wouldn’t be able to let go of each other for days; Kai kept his journal he understandably abandoned once he got out of here the first time. Now, it was its second go. By the time you have finally had sex to every single song in your 576 songs playlist, it’s been seven months in the prison world.

Las Vegas was cool but it was a desert. However, the desert was simply magical at the end of the day, when the heat settled down, and the dense air cooled a little. You’d drive down the avenues of the empty city to look at the dark and lit buildings. Some of them looked occupied, but there was nobody. You never understood what determined which windows were lit.

CLOSE TO YOU by Maxi Priest segment

“Sometimes I was thinking about killing you”.

You’d be more surprised if Kai had never thought of it. When you love someone, you think about killing them constantly. The one option you never tried before left, which is an absolute no go. The forbidden apple of relationship, the ultimate joy of possession, feeling as the life drains from the one you love. You wondered if it would be scarier than jumping off the Canyon if he killed you. You didn’t know if that was Kai poisoning your mind already, or it was what made you two click in the first place.

“Now you have the chance”, you said. He looked a you, cocking his head, and examined you as if trying to understand if you’re joking.

“You want me to kill you?”

Uttering it was still a little bit too much. You were nervous about falling down that rabbit hole where the whole pushing the borders experiment turns into bloody twisted chaos, and you end up like the children from Gummo. Senseless, pointless violence, filthy, dictated only by lust or ignorance. Kai was far from that still. He was essentially hurt and curious, not filthy. He was bold in the ways he professed his violence. But there’s always this danger of going too far and not being able to pick yourself up anymore.

“I mean, it would be good for you. You know what your cravings do to you if you don’t let the steam off from time to time. Now you can kill me safely and close that door”.

He was thinking about it quietly.

“I’m not interested in hurting you anymore”.

It sounded like a song.

But he listened to you, and listened well.

“By the way, if I can kill you, then you can kill me, too”.

Your head snapped towards him.

“I know you”, he chuckled, “you always wanted blood. But you’ve never killed anybody, have you?”

You shook your head no. Kai was like a serpent playing disinterest, but you could see the tip of his tongue split two ways, showing through his sharp teeth as he spoke.

“It’s a changing experience. Nothing quite like it, a good exercise”.

“Did you actually enjoy hurting others?”

“It felt necessary”, he said simply. “I woud die if I didn’t. Better them than me”.

You looked at him blinking slowly. He was a textbook killer you’ve read about millions of times. The philosophical question of whether that darkness that pushes them towards violence has the bottom and end was still unanswered in the future. You yourself had some gems of unanswered mysteries inside of you. Why were you so attracted to this boy, what made you want to stick with him so much? Why this obsession with being the only one who cares for him? Momma complex much? The saint redeemer? He was just so so cute and murderous and that was it. Maybe you did come from a completely cursed generation after all.

“How would you do it?” Kai asked. You were sitting on the porch of a suburbs house you chose to squat in by the way. It was your ‘pretending like you’re middle class’ week.

“Stab you”, you replied, without thinking. “You?”

“I’ll choke you”, he responded, looking at you. You noted how he didn’t use the conditional, but the future. He has made his mind up.

He took his time, though, trying to intrigue, or unnerve you, perhaps. It’s been about two weeks, or even a month, and you almost thought he forgot about it, which wouldn’t be atypical of him. His thoughts were all over the place.

You really loved this house, resembling any house from a 90s sitcom, with that big family couch in the living room which had the way right into the kitchen.

You finished doing the dishes and put the last plates away. Kai usually cooked, and you did the cleaning, all was fair. He appeared silently, wrapping his hands around your waist, and distracted you with heated kisses. They were heated literally, like he had a fever; you turned to feel his skin, and drowned in the kiss. You felt the itchy hot wave coming up, as his hands slid down your hips, and suddenly, his fingers were on your throat. He broke the kiss, leaving your mouth open, and the next second his face was cold, eyes black like two pieces of coal and you recognized that old Kai whom you met at the Grill. While he was still pretending to be fun, pretending to be nice, before you two got together.

His palms closed on your neck and your brain went in overrun. A part of you knew that was something you had discussed beforehand, and he even chose the right time, just after the sunset, when the kitchen was only lit by the pink-scarlet cloud light. A part of you, the more physical chunk, started fighting him, and the air got blocked out from your throat. The feeling of your own cartilage pressing on your artery was one of the most disgusting types of pain you’ve ever experienced. Your hands flew up, slapping his face, but he could as well be made of stone. The murderousness of Kai Parker was unmatched. Like a bulldog, once he closed his clutch, there was only one way it’d end.

Slowly, as you suffocated, blood throbbing in your eyes, he laid you down, while the darkness was consuming you. Damn, it’s taking so long, you thought with a grudge. You’ll definitely kill this dick back. You knew choking someone takes minutes, but these minutes feel like agonizing hours when it’s you being choked. Just relax and try to enjoy it, your mind said, and you suffocated even further on the inner dying laughter. Your hands were shaking violently as they grabbed his, and you wiggled on the floor. He shook you once, banging the back of your head on the tiles, and you almost blacked out. Your body bent out towards his in a fake desire motion. He put his knee on your stomach to keep you in place and pressed further and you died slowly, confused the hell out, in pain, and a little but irritated.

IKO IKO by The Belle Stars segment

You stood there, looking at the row of knives. A song from the future got stuck in your head, where there were lyrics that went,

that you’ll love me more when I’m dead

Your overall mood has not changed. It was just so good to be together, all the time, like a long, magical [sic!] honeymoon. You did not argue. You weren’t upset. Sometimes you’d get slightly disappointed, entering supermarkets, like this one, and expecting people to be there. After all, you have spent a huge chunk of your life... well, all your life, surrounded by other people.

It was another side of good though, knowing, that Kai is the only other one here. He joked a lot about ‘the last girl on Earth’. He was extremely romantic about it.

One of the knives laid in your palm obediently. It was beautiful: short stirdy grey handle, and the sharp broad blade. You could almost see your own reflection in its perfectly clean steel. There’s something about knives. Something about their inevitability, their thinness. You weighed it in your hand, completely mesmerized. You liked knives and was always the one to chop all the food before Kai could cook it. You were the Chopper in this... family?

You turned to look at him, the tall, lean frame, his black as hell head cocked on the side as he was reading something on a pack of nuts. He never read anything from the packs, so you found it curious. What were you calling yourselves? He was like that demon who slides from below your bed and you hold its cold paw in the dark, questioning, what are we?

The way he looked at you, it really felt like he has reached the end of his path in searching. You’ve never seen him so calm before. And vice versa, he was the only one who ever made you feel like that. It was a unit. He never once called you his girlfriend, and it was different. You never spoke about it, except that one time on the Canyon when he said he’d marry you. He looked very sure about it, but, knowing him, you didn’t think much of it. It was one of the things you’d do once you get out...

You walked up to Kai, and as he turned to you, about to show you something that got him so interested in a plain pack of nuts, you stabbed him in the side of his body.

Kai gasped gently, like it was more of a kick, and, unsure if you’re applying enough force, you pressed further.

His hand didn’t even get down to stop you. Unlike you, he didn’t even begin fighting you. He shot you a short glance, and there was nothing but curiousity in his eyes. He’s died thousands of times. It was horrible to think about it, but he was used to this kind of pain. You asked yourself why you’re hurting him, of all people, but it was cold math. You had to get even, because that’s what you had both decided. Plus, once the blade was inside of him, you couldn’t stop yourself.

You stabbed him again, as he grabbed on a shelf no try and stay on his feet. The second hit went right into his abdomen, and you wondered at the thickness of his stomach; being an innocent child before, you believed that a human body would be like butter, since a knife is sharp and extremely thin. It turned out to be a bit harder than you expected.

Kai fell down and laid on his back, putting his hands aside. You suddenly realized, with bursting heart, that you were the only one person in any world that he allowed to kill him and didn’t even struggle. It was the ultimate demonstration of trust, better than any kind of I love you. The best thing he could ever do.

You sat on top of him, stabbing him again and again, trying different spots. The side proved to be the most vulnerable, and the chest was the hardest to break through because of the ribcage. When the blade got stuck against the bone, Kai was already dead, and your elbow hurt. No matter how much you climbed and how much heavy stuff you carried here, you weren’t becoming stronger, because one day’s excercise does nothing.

The blood was splattering onto his face and yours, and then you got tired, and horror finally seized you. At some point you stopped being curious, and became enraged for no reason, stabbing him blindly, just because he was good being stabbed.

You stopped, panting, and looked into his white face with his eyes open, turned away, drops of his own blood on his chin. Your hands were red as you touched his open wounds, and your own stomach seemed to have sucked on itself with fear.

Why did I do this? What does he like so much about it?

You knew for sure he’d come back. There was no reason for him not to resurrect. But the irrational nervousness grabbed you. You took his chin and turned his face up, looking at him.

I love you so much, and I don’t know why I did it.

His blood was warm and salty. It went well with bubblegum ice cream.

You had no idea that it was invented SUCH a long time ago. You had no hope to find it in ‘94 and felt like an idiot, but a happy one.

You sat on the floor two steps away from him and stress-devoured ice cream for an hour until he finally woke up.

Kai groaned and attempted to get up, lifting his head and looking at the high ceiling for a moment. He then rolled to his side and lifted himself up on an elbow.

“How did it feel?” he went straight to the point.

“Good at first, but then horrible. I think I went a little overboard. I stabbed you about twenty times”.

“I always knew there was something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you”, he said with tenderness. He got up and crawled up to you, attracted by the sight of the half-empty bucket of ice cream.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore”, you said, and felt lonely for a second. “I didn’t really enjoy neither the first nor the second time”.

“Each to his own, I guess”, Kai shrugged, and opened his mouth. You shoved a spoonful into it.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #tvd

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inhibited-irregularity · 3 years ago

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EUROVISION 2021, personal favorites:

- Russia 🇷🇺

Manizha, Russian Woman: Absolute favorite. The sheer originality of the song! Her energy and the level of absolute badassery! She can sing, she can rap,and she's a bomb of energy. The way reggae and brass and hiphop and Slavic melodies overlap and it somehow works, the transitions between fun and "I'm bitter about the sexism and I'm mocking it unapologetically and making a stand" and the anthemic, emphatic and powerful message to Russian women; I was swelling with emotion while watching her. While to an American or a Westerner it may seem like performative feminism, I'm gonna remind you that in Russia and other Slavic countries that's very much not a thing and actually a very unpopular stand to make, and in Russia, The Balkans, and Eastern Europe in general, hundreds of women face domestic and sexual abuse on the daily, and those who do come forward rarely get support and are mostly dismissed. Let's not forget that Manizha got a huge backlash from the Russian government officials, and a big part of it was for her Tajik roots. The honesty of her message is real, and she's speaking from personal experience and the experience of women around her - nothing performative about her song, and you can tell from her delivery that the fire within her is true and she leaves her heart on the stage and pours it into the song. The staging and costumes are great as well, and symbolically well thougt-through. I would really like her to win, or at least get to the top 5. Most of all, I hope her message is heard and felt. 10000/10

- Italy 🇮🇹

Måneskin, Zitti e Buoni: definitely the closest thing to my actual music taste this year, so liking them off the bat wasn't a surprise. However, they're not just your regular Franz-Ferdinand-ish young alt rock band that wants to do rock "properly" - they have IT. The X factor, the Je ne sais quoi. I've been exposed to that particular genre, and I can confidently say that the song still manages to be refreshing and original (that bridge, those riffs!) The band has a great energy and no matter how much Damiano steals the show, they are still a unit and nobody is left in the shadows. They have the spirit of great rock bands of the previous century, and yet they don't try to copy anyone (khm,Greta Van Fleet, khm). Damiano's vocals are both powerful, seductive and provoking, and I'm still admiring the sheer amount of emotion he can pack into a single line and the nuance and yet rawness behind it. I'm not gonna state the obvious lol (the obvious being yes, I'm thirsty as well, he becomes yet another unattainable rockstar for me too,and yes they all look great) Anyway, great song, and maybe the clearest and most serious candidate for the number one spot, taking both the jury and the public into consideration. 10/10

- Iceland 🇮🇸

Daði Freyr and Gagnamagnið, 10 years:

What can I say about this masterpiece that hasn't already been said? A clear fan-favorite (hi, Valentina), but with the guns to back it up. The song is contagious, fun and campy, and unlike some other songs with said qualities, actually good from a musical perspective. Daði is incredibly charismatic and his sense of humor shines through, and even though he's the star of the show, the same can be said about the other band members. The synergy Måneskin has can be applied to Gagnamagnið as well, even though the energy is entirely different. They're serving us fun, sunshine, kitties rainbows sugar spice and everything nice, and manage to do it with zero cringe factor (plus those funky keytars). I'm one of those Eurovision fans that lament the golden age's (2004-2009) campiness (We'll never forget you, Verka), and Daði managed to bring it back, but modernised, polished and still sincere. I personally preferred the epic dad joke that slightly more commercial Think About Thing was (but that's one tough act to follow), but I'm always down for a husband adoring his wife and singing praises to their relationship. Since we're on tumblr, I feel obliged to use the term "cinnamon rolls" in describing Daði and the band. 9.5/10

- France 🇫🇷

Barbara Pravi, Voilà: She brought the theatrics, she brought the drama, and she brought the 101 in "that's how you perform". Her personality leaps through, and her voice is both beautiful and full of emotion and power. I'd hire her to star in a serious and artistic movie. Despite the fact that Voilà is from its melody to the singing style to the video to the vibe and the aesthetic hands down the most French thing I've seen since Amélie (do not come for that movie), it miraculously doesn't come across as a cliché, but rather an homage, and an individualistic one at that. It's not entirely my cup of tea, since I'm usually biased to songs that may come off as snobbish (I mean, the jury is going to lap it up), and are all about being proper and technical and oh how ~artistic~, but Barbara puts the soul into the immaculate. I'm not giving her the highest mark because I'm yet to see the performance, but I'm rooting for her. If she delivers the performance, we might have a clear winner. 9/10

- Ukraine 🇺🇦

Go_A, Shum: I'm a sucker for all things ethnic and mytological, so this was a no-brainer. I want that song played at every party. I want to go to the forest in the video and chant and summon the spring with flute and hard-bass. Kateryna Pavlenko has some unexplainable power over me, and her eyes are simply hypnotizing. The vocals are great, proper Slavic ethno right there (seriously, check out Slavic folklore and traditional music), and she has a subtle punk quality too(?). Ukraine came to save the spring and make us forget about the pandemic, and minus the Maruv fiasco (justice for her!), they always deliver and I expected nothing less. On the other hand, I loved the original version much more and couldn't help but be a bit disappointed with the revamp (yes, I know they had to), and while I personally love Shum, I think some other acts are more deserving of the higher placement. Go_A are not my winner, but definitely soon to be in my playlist. 8/10

- San Marino 🇸🇲

Adrenalina, Senhit ft. Flo Rida: You know that golden age of Eurovision I mentioned? THIS. I'm Serbian, so I can't resist a banger reminiscent of our horrible turbo-folk elements (and I say that endearingly,takes me back to 18th birthday parties (boy I'm glad that's over)). Let's just crown Senhit this year's Queen of Camp. The wild factor of Flo Rida...just?? Amazing. Can't wait to see how the performance goes (EDIT- it went great, I had a grin on my face the entire time and couldn't help but dance along). A certain refreshment after Serhat and Valentina Monetta endless loop. They didn't dial down the weird, but made it catchy af, and the vocal can rival any Balkan folk diva. While I think it's definitely the most entertaining entry this year, it's far from being the most original, and it's not really my genre of preference. Will vote for Senhit and root for her to qualify. 7.5/ 10

- Sweden 🇸🇪

Tusse, A million voices: As I mentioned before, I'm the first person that starts complaining about Sweden Superiority as soon as Eurovision season begins, and I'm with you all with being tired of Sweden qualifying just because they're Sweden and usually just bringing the same brand of MTV/Calvin Harris/American pop, or a successful and not-so-subtle imitation of the performances that did well the previous year,but listen: A million voices is a solid pop song and I'm going to die on that hill. It actually embodies the essence of pop - a catchy, pleasant melody sung by a good vocalist, with a short,sweet and uplifting message. It's not the same as previous years, it's not commercial, just good pop - good pop being something you immediately like and vibe to no matter how many common elements of the genre it checks. It relies on RnB rather than electronic sounds, auto tune or various DJ effects. Tusse is charming and charismatic af, and he's a 19yo kid doing an amazing job on a global stage. You don't have to like it, but there's no need to hate on it (ask Jendrik). Imo, Tusse deserved to qualify. Not winner material yet, but I wish him a fun time and a successful career. 7 5/10

- Switzerland 🇨🇭

G'jons Tears, Tout L'Univers: I saw the video first, and I HATED IT. It came across as a Duncan Lawrence-high-art wannabe, something technically perfect, but empty of soul or meaning, another soft boy with a sad falsetto, another jury-points bait. BUT. I changed my mind entirely after seeing him perform. Hands down, it was touching and epic. Reminding me of Hamlet aside, he DELIVERED, and made me love him, and actually enjoy the song. I still think the song is less original than Tusse's voices, but I enjoy the troubadour vibes of the pre-chours. G'jon is absolutely adorable, and I'm not gonna be mad if he wins. 8/10

shout-outs&honorable mentions:

- Serbia 🇷🇸 Yes, some national bias, but I'm proud of our girls. Ever Since we placed 2nd with Željko's Lane, we had that goddamn flute e v e r y year, and the same outdated scenography with a side of extra pathos (I'm sure that ruined Sanja's chances and her otherwise great performance back in 2016.) Finally something fun and actually representative of the music popular here. They looked flawless and the energy was off the charts. Go, Hurricane!

-Finland 🇫🇮 Yes, cheesy and corny and I cut my finger accidentally from watching the video on all the edge, but I'm biased because they're bringing emo and nu-metal back, and that's the music of my early adolescence (hello, Kaulitz brothers and Andy Biersack,hello Gerard Way and Linkin Park) Call me grandma lol

- Malta 🇲🇹 DESTINY CAN SIIIIIIIIING! I wasn't impressed with the song initially, but the performance blew my mind.

- Ireland 🇮🇪 A for effort, and so nice of her to try and give us something unique! While it wasn't good enough to qualify, it was super fun and she seems so nice. Also, we all know that she was out of breath an can sing much better than that. Still wasn't bad.

- Romania 🇷🇴, for being so young and brave enough to put on a show. The nerves got the better of her, but the song itself is good and no doubt she'll do well in the future

- Lithuania 🇱🇹, thanks for the memeries

- Croatia 🇭🇷, Not my cup of tea, but Albina gave a great performance

-Norway 🇳🇴, for embodying the spirit of Eurovision

- North Macedonia 🇲🇰, for the disco chest

- The UK 🇬🇧, for putting some effort

(Might edit later)

#eurovison #eurovision 2021 #rotterdam #the netherlands #russia #malta #italy #france #iceland #sweden #serbia #esc 2021 #switzerland #san marino #ukraine

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nokomiss · 4 years ago

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How about: "I won't forget this." *Rolling their eyes* "Thats's the idea y'know." With Jaysteph?

The tragedy happened -- poetically, really -- in Crime Alley.

Two mid-class goons currently serving Two-Face were barreling down the middle of the street in a stolen armored truck, sideswiping anyone who didn’t swerve out of the way quick enough. Steph didn’t even know what the special occasion was -- it was both an odd month and an odd day, so maybe it was just Two-Face causing what chaos he could -- and Steph was the closest on patrol. She swung in, regretting her choice to leave the Compact behind, and tried her best to catch up with the armored truck.

“Any help?” she called over the comms. “O, can you do something about the traffic, maybe? These guys are not following the rules of the road.”

“Already there,” Babs said. “Red Hood is incoming.”

Steph managed to hook a line onto the truck just as Red Hood appeared on a really nice bike. Nice enough she noticed even when flying through the air aiming her body at a speeding truck.

She landed on top of the truck with more grace than she’d been hoping for, given her iffy relationship with gravity in general, and began to make her way towards the cab of the truck. “Hood, can you distract them?”

“On it,” Jason replied, and a second later the armored truck swerved wildly as a chain wrapped around one of its wheels. Steph kept her grip, and made her way unnoticed to the roof above the driver. She knew the glass was bulletproof, but that didn’t so much matter if the driver couldn’t see through it. She anchored herself to the top of the truck, then splattered two gooperangs on the windshield.

Instant chaos. The driver, just correcting from Jason’s attack on his wheels, lost total control of the truck as his vision was completely obscured. Steph gripped tightly to the magnetic gripper she’d anchored down. Her cape whipped around her as she tried to figure out where Jason and his bike were -- she definitely needed to bail soon, as the truck was aimed right for the concrete pillars supporting an overpass.

“Behind you,” Jason said through the comm, clearly seeing her dilemma, and Steph let go of her anchor as she felt the truck lurch over a curb.

She managed to somersault off the back of the truck like she did it every day, and caught onto Jason’s handlebars in a move she couldn’t replicate if she tried, but was so grateful that she pulled off. A half-turn and a twist and she was landing roughly in Jason’s arms like she’d planned it all out, and a second later the armored truck smashed into the pillar, front end crumpling like an accordion.

Jason pulled the bike to a stop, and Steph hopped out of his arms before offering him a high five. He grinned at the destruction they’d caused and high fived her back before they went to check on the goons, who were both groggy and easy to subdue. There were two dollar bills floating comically around them, like it was a cartoon, and Steph understood why Two Face had staged this particular robbery.

“Huh,” Jason said, catching one of the bills mid-air. “Who knew there were this many in circulation?”

“And in a city known for Two-Face’s crimes, even,” Steph said. “Like. What was the take, a couple hundred bucks?”

Jason pocketed the bill he’d caught, and Steph rolled her eyes at him. “What?” he said. “Batman takes trophies all the time.”

Steph could hardly argue that point, having spent more than her fair share of time climbing the giant dinosaur. “Thanks for the assist, this went way smoother than--”

She was interrupted mid-sentence by an ominous creaking noise overhead. She looked up, saw the cracks in the concrete, and grabbed onto Jason’s sleeve. “Run!”

They sprinted across the road, and watched in mutual horror as a broken slab of concrete, loosened by the crash, fell directly onto Jason’s motorcycle.

“Oh no,” Steph said quietly.

“Oh shit,” Jason said, and it was not the horror-struck tone of someone who had lost a prized possession. It was the horror-struck tone of someone who had fucked up majorly.

Steph looked at him. Jason pointed at the crushed metal that had formerly been a red motorcycle with a shaking hand. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating.”

“Gotham’s infrastructure really never recovered from No Man’s Land,” Steph said, patting him on the arm. “I mean, that was a really nice bike, but at least we caught the bad guys?”

“It was a really nice bike,” Jason said. “It also wasn’t my bike.”

“Yikes,” Steph said. She cautiously moved closer, but there were no more creaking sounds overhead. The bike was thoroughly crushed, though. She poked at a bent wheel with the toe of her boot. “Bruce’s?”

Jason nodded. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“I mean, it’s not like he can’t afford another one?” Steph offered.

“There aren’t any more,” Jason said. “And he fucking loves that bike.”

“How can there not be any more? It’s not like donut holes at the bakery,” Steph said. “It’s a motorcycle.” A Ducati, granted, and a definite loss, but… Jason was not taking this well. She wondered if he needed a hug.

“There were less than eight in the world. Seven now, I guess,” Jason said. He began picking pieces of concrete off the bike’s remains. “Come on, you have to help me hide the body.”

“Hide the -- you’re shitting me,” Steph said. “You love breaking Bruce’s stuff. Last month you took a picture of yourself next to the Batmobile you wrecked and made it the Batcomputer wallpaper.”

“Well, this is different,” Jason said. “Come on. I saved your ass, now you get to save mine.”

Steph couldn’t really argue with that, given that Jason had kindly kept her from splattering on the pavement. She began to move concrete chunks, and the more of the bike they unearthed, the worse it looked. Oil and gasoline smeared the pavement like blood, and the bike itself was mangled beyond recognition. The bright red paint was coated with concrete dust, turning it dull brown.

There was absolutely no way they were wheeling it away from the scene, and Steph could hear police sirens echoing down the street. They cleared off the rest of the concrete as Steph remotely called the Compact. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Jason doing the same. “We can drag it over behind that pillar?” she suggested, pointing to one that didn’t have an armored truck smashed into it.

It was less than fifteen feet away, but it took all their combined effort to get the bike’s remains behind the pillar before the cops came. Steph hurried out, grabbing a broken tail light off the pavement and standing casually in front of her captured goons as the police cars careened around the corner.

The scene looked suspicious as hell, but the actual presence of a Bat at the crime scene -- even if it was Batgirl -- had the officers off-balanced enough that no one actually questioned the pile of rubble. Steph told them all the intel she had on Two-Face’s crime (not much, but she added enough details that it took a few minutes) while watching the Compact arrive out of the corner of her eye, and Jason managing to strap the Ducati’s remains to it without any officers actually noticing.

It was actually pretty hilarious, watching him struggle to shove mangled motorcycle parts into a net intended for a cartoonish capture of criminals on top of the Compact while trying to blend in with the night. He mostly failed, but luckily for him, Steph was a pretty great distraction.

“And in conclusion, what the heck, Gotham National Bank, what were you thinking? Gotta run!” she announced as soon as she saw Jason finish with the Ducati and climb into the Compact, and made a big show of firing her grappling gun and swooping off into the night like a proper vigilante.

If it hadn’t been for the one notable casualty, Steph would be having an absolutely stellar night.

She met up with him a few blocks over and climbed in the Compact, letting him continue to drive, as she had no earthly idea where one disposed of the body of a motorcycle.

Though, as he pulled up to an abandoned part of the harbor, she probably should have guessed.

They climbed out of the Compact and stood there, breeze ruffling their hair and the moonlight shining on the water. It should be a peaceful moment, but the smell of motor oil dripping from the Ducati ruined it.

“Tell me why this bike’s different?” Steph was so incredibly curious. Jason was not one to hide something to spare Bruce’s feelings.

Jason had his hands shoved in his pockets. They were both fully in uniform, though Jason was down to a domino mask. For some reason, Steph thought it was easier to share personal things while in uniform; it somehow seemed divorced from real life. Though for Jason the uniform seemed to be real life. He stared out at the water for a few more minutes, then finally said, “I had a picture of that bike on my wall when I was a kid. Like, before things really went to shit, I ripped a picture out of a magazine at the fuckin’ library, and snuck it home in my backpack. I didn’t know it was some rare thing, I just liked the color.”

“You do like your reds,” Steph said, for lack of anything better.

His mouth quirked up. “You sure you wanna go there, Purple Rain?”

She bumped her shoulder up against his-- well, against his arm, but the thought was there. “So you had a picture of a motorcycle on your wall. Very weird. Almost unseemly, for a boy to have an illicit picture of a motorcycle--”

“Wow, you just don’t stop ever, do you,” Jason said. His mouth quirked up, and then he glanced back at the bike. “Anyway. After Bruce took me in, I kept pestering him about getting me one, even though they were stupid expensive and impossible to find, because of there being only a handful in existence.”

“And obviously he got it for you,” Steph said, rolling her eyes, because Bruce could be called a lot of things, but stingy wasn’t one of them.

Jason shook his head. “Nope. I mean -- I guess, but not as a present. I guess he bought it symbolically for my sweet sixteen. Probably drove it to my grave, the melodramatic bastard.”

Steph opened her mouth and shut it again a few times, and then turned to stare again at the wreckage of the bike. “I mean-- wow. So he didn’t think to give it to you once, you know, you rejoined the world of the living?”

“I don’t know if you remember but things weren’t awesome between us then,” Jason said, a little testily.

“I mean, if you want to play that game, I don’t, actually, given that I was having my own post-death world travels at that time,” Steph replied in exactly the same tone.

Jason’s mouth tightened, then he let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I kind of forgot about that.”

“Well, I don’t bring it up in every conversation I have, so….” Steph nobly managed to not stick her tongue out at him.

“You’re a saint. And no, he did not give it to me once I came back,” Jason said, bringing the conversation back to the salient point. “I found it in the garage covered in a freaking tarp, and sometimes I borrow it.”

“Without permission, I assume.”

Jason nodded. “He’s never shown any indication that he noticed. Which, you know, for Bruce…”

“Is a miracle in and of itself.” Steph nodded back at him. “So basically -- Bruce bought you your dream bike when you were dead and you’re cranky because he didn’t actually give it to you, so you keep stealing it hoping he’ll notice.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds stupid,” Jason said.

Steph stared at him, hoping he’d get the point.

“It isn’t stupid,” he insisted.

“You’re all stupid,” Steph said. “So now you want to throw it in the harbor instead of just… letting Bruce know that you have been taking it? Nevermind that obviously he knows you’ve been taking it. I mean. Do you fill it up with gas every time? I bet not, and I bet it’s always full when you pick it back up.”

She absolutely was not speaking from experience with her own personal favorites of Bruce’s ridiculously awesome car collection.

“I--” Jason began, but then shrugged. “Shit.”

Steph surveyed the harbor again, then looked back at the wreckage. “You know, this is one way to deal with this, but… what if there’s a better way.”

Jason drummed his fingers on his thigh, clearly weighing her earlier words, then said, “I’m listening.”

Four hours later, they stood side by side again, this time in the Cave.

“Okay,” Jason said slowly. “Okay, I’ll say it. You are an evil genius and I adore you.”

Steph fluffled her hair cheerfully. “Glad to hear it.”

“This is-- I mean, I thought I was the best at getting under Bruce’s skin, but this is going to make him go ballistic.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “The point is not to make Bruce go ballistic. That’s just a happy little bonus.”

They were standing in front of Jason’s memorial case, which until very recently had held only his Robin uniform.

Steph had to say, the a good soldier plaque now felt far less serious, given that it was now describing the mangled remains of a motorcycle that had died in the line of duty. She even found a sharpie and added to the plaque, in the most cutesy handwriting she could manage so that it now read JASON TODD’s dream bike.

“It’s perfect,” Jason breathed. Steph had been unsure about what to do with the uniform that had been inside, but Jason had lovingly pulled it over the handlebars until the Ducati had become, in death, an honorary Robin. “I won’t forget this.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “That’s the whole idea, y’know. It’s a memorial. For memory-keeping.”

But then she reached over and took Jason’s hand in hers, tangling their fingers together and squeezing. “Sorry your bike died while you were helping me.”

Logically, Gotham’s poor infrastructure wasn’t her fault, but if she hadn’t needed an assist, Jason would still have his beloved bike. Well. Kind of. Would still be regularly stealing his beloved bike from his emotionally inept father, because they were both stubborn idiots.

Jason kept holding her hand, leaning in until their sides were touching. “At least it went in a blaze of glory.”

“And now it’s gonna live on forever in our hearts,” Steph said. She pulled up their joined hands and pressed a kiss onto Jason’s knuckle, ignoring the way he startled at the soft touch and focusing on the little smile he gave her. “Wanna hide in the dinosaur and watch Bruce’s reaction when he notices?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

#my fic #batfam #stephanie brown #jason todd #jaysteph #dcu fic #even robins #this is totally unedited sorry for mistakes #meowlerex

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gloriafc · 4 years ago

Text

Daddy's Girl

Spencer Reid × Jethro Gibbs daughter reader

Theres nothing Gibbs loved more than his daughter, even when she decided to join the BAU. He stayed supportive of her even if he disliked the other agencies that weren't NCIS.

After a few years of working as a profiler you started dating Spencer. Of course it took your dad some time to adjust to there being a new man in your life, but he eventually opened up to the idea of Spencer. You could only smile as you watched your dad warm up to your boyfriend once a random boat building fact came out of his mouth, "Sorry. Y/N mentioned you like to build boats. I have a habit of looking into new things." You could only watch with a smile on your face from your spot at the top of the stairs as your dad showed Spencer how to properly sand the wood on his boat.

When you and Spencer got married, your dad didn't even bat an eye, immediately telling Spencer he could have your hand. He trusted your now husband to take care of you. He saw Spencer as the son he never had, and he loved the look you got in your eye whenever you were around him, something he hadn't seen since you were a kid and went on your weekly ice cream daddy-daughter dates. Any man that made you look at him like the way you looked at icecream as a kid was good in his book.

Of course the only time Spencer ever seen your dad smile and get excited was when you told him you were pregnant. It wasn't until then that Spencer actually saw your relationship with your dad, how protective your dad could get.

Of course you and Spencer couldn't contain your excitement and ended up telling your team before they could read into a situation that wasn't there, Penelope being the most excited for another niece or nephew.

As your stomach quickly grew, all the men in your life made sure you were kept away from anything that could cause you and your unborn child any type of harm, unless absolutely necessary. Even then you typically dealt with the victims families during the cases and contributed to the profile and that was all your husband and boss seemed to let you do.

During a briefing you weren't exactly paying attention thinking you were just going to be pushing paperwork in the office after finding out the case was only in DC, and that this would be one of your last cases before maternity leave. Until Hotch hands you the file, making you look at him as you take the file, "You want me to actually join in this time." He doesn't even look at you, "Look at the ID of the body."

Closing the file you smirk and cross your arms, "You want me to pull the Daddy card." "I would like to keep this case as civilized as possible. I dont mind working alongside NCIS, maybe we'll be able to solve this faster. I'd rather have cooperation, than having to forcibly take the case." You just nod and sigh before Hotch offers you a hand and helps you up, "I'll call with what he says."

Knowing your dads sweet spot, you stop for coffee before making your way to NCIS. You can see the happiness on your dad face, as he grabs the cup of coffee and sets it on his desk before pulling you into his arms, "Hows my girl doing?" "Besides creating a human, kinda hungry actually." Your dad can only chuckle as he pulls out a piece of candy from his stash no one is aloud to touch. As you fiddle with the wrapper your dad asks, "What brings you here? Nothing exciting for the FBI to do so you came to snoop out a case?" "A name actually. Colonel Jeremy Walsh."

You can see the look on you dads face as he tries to keep himself from getting angry that the FBI is trying to take his case. "That's what you came for? To steal my case?" You sigh seeing Tony and Abby walking your way, "That's what the department head wants dad. My unit chief would rather work alongside you. I know you want to find your colonels killer for his family, but he's apart of a case with 10 other victims, 10 other families." You watch your dad think and push his buttons just a little bit, just like you did as a kid to get what you want. "Come on daddy. I already can't do much in the field, I need to make sure this son of a bitch is caught for these eleven families. If it was you or Spence I'd want to know the person who did it was caught."

Tony and Abby stop hearing you call him daddy and know something is about to go down. Your dad can only look at you before turning and grabbing his cup of coffee, "Fine. But we're working here." Tony and Abby approach you as you pull out your phone, "What was that about?" You reply as your phone rings, "Your colonel is one of my victims. Dads not too happy that we need what you've found to solve our case."

As you wait for your team to arrive Tony decides to bug you, "So were going to finally see you do your thing, with the husband we've only seen in the picture on your dads desk." You just roll your eyes from your dads chair, "There is no thing. I just profile, my boss, husband, and team don't let me go into the field at all. Unless it's to somewhere I can't get hurt."

When your team arrives and everyone is briefing on what they've found you stare at the map of all the crime scene locations. You stare with your head to the side and a hand on your swollen belly. Morgan moves so hes next to you, "What are you thinking Mama." You click your tongue at the nickname you received once everyone realized you are the mom friend of their group, "Our unsub has OCD." Your dad looks at you, impressed. Tony asks, "You got that. From looking at a map?" You crumble up the piece of paper in front of you, your team dodging as you throw the paper ball hitting Tony square in the face. Your dad chuckles knowing you purposely aimed for his face knowing you dont miss after years of softball. "Don't doubt me DiNozzo."

You fish through the pictures of the crime scenes, "And two maps actually." You pull out the pictures of the many severed limbs of your victims, "Every single body part that's been cut off is the same size. Every autopsy shows that each victim was strangled before getting stabbed and having a limb cut off. He followed a step by step routine with each killing." "If he had OCD wouldn't he have followed with head, arms, then legs? Not a group of heads, right arms, legs, and left arms." You look up at the map, "That was a different routine." You quickly grab a marker and start drawing on a clean map after making some points.

"A star?" You nod and pull out the original map you were looking at, "The different places the bodies were found are the points. We had the first and last victim in the same spot to finish off the star. We found where each body was severed and killed at the center of each arm of the star. Each arm of the star represents a different body part. The center of the star could be his home or where he was set off."

Everyone looks at you like you just found treasure, making Spencer jump in. "A star is symbolic for protection. He could be trying to protect what's at the center." You simply shrug, "Makes sense as to why none of the victims are connected, they were all just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Garcia quickly starts typing on her computer, having come along to use the NCIS data base, "Its a vacant lot, that was once an apartment complex. There was a fire that burned it to the ground, only two casualties. Oh", she stops before continuing, "Aaliyah Johnson and her unborn baby, leaving Peter Johnson widowed." Garcia looks at you after finishing her sentence and you can practically feel her picturing you in that situation.

Everyone quickly leaves, leaving you with Penelope, Kate, Abby, and Ducky, who's come out of his 'office' to chat while you all wait.

After a couple hours you start pacing, your baby being very active and making you uncomfortable, but you just push it off as you worrying about your dad and husband. Kate finally speaks up, "Do you always pace while you wait? Or is it just because it's not just your husband going after a psycho but your dad too?" You shrug, continuing to walk back and forth while Ducky starts speaking, "Its good for a pregnant person to walk around, it keeps them active. That's why when they're in labor they take laps around the floor to help speed labor up."

Just as he finishes his sentence you groan feeling liquid go down your legs, "You just had to say that didnt you." Everyone looks at you, making you look down at the now wet floor, "I really hope I just peed myself." You quickly lean forward grasping onto the table, "Nope its definitely not pee." Penelope and Kate quickly rush to your sides to help you get to the car, "We gotta get you to the hospital." You stop, "Oh no were not. I'm not doing this without Spence or my dad. I'm not doing this alone. They should be back any minute." Penelope just looks at you, "Y/N we both know they're not. Spencer would've called. He always calls when they're on their way back." You squeak out, "Maybe he forgot this time." She just shakes her head, "He'd never forget. You're not alone. I know it's scary but a happy moment. We can call them on our way there." You reluctantly agree and they help you into Kate's car.

Unable to reach anyone, you're quickly set up in a hospital room, Penelope trying her best to distract you, now that you've been given an epidural. "Just imagine what baby girl is going to look like." You smile listening to the heartbeat that's been echoing around the room since you arrived, "Like me with her father's curly mess."

When everything's been handled Spencer tries calling you, but your phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries three more time before looking at the team, "Y/N isnt answering. She always answers." Morgan quickly tries Garcia getting the same thing. Your dad tries Kate who immediately answers and starts yelling about how no one answered their phones. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Everyone waits. When your dad shuts his phone he can only look at his son-in-law, "Looks like your daughter is just as impatient as her mom. She's in labor." Everyone quickly piles into their cars and speed through the streets, sirens blaring, to the hospital Kate told your dad to go to.

By the time they get there it's too late, you've already started pushing. Penelope stays with you, holding your hand as you push, while Kate, Abby, and Ducky wait for everyone to arrive. Kate immediately stands seeing Spencer and your dad run into the room, shortly followed by everyone else. She just shakes her head, "She tried pushing it off as much as possible. She had to start pushing. It's only been a couple of minutes since we got kicked out."

Everyone sits in the waiting room, taking over the small room. Spencer cant help but fidget, his wife is giving birth without him. In the back of his mind he cant help but be thankful that Penelope was there when he couldn't be, but he also wishes it was him in there with you. Derek sets his hand on his best friends shoulder, "Hey she's not alone. And you're just minutes closer to meeting your daughter." Spencer can only nod before looking at his fingers.

Almost an hour later Penelope enters the waiting room, still in the gown making everyone stand. She keeps moving until shes right in front of Spencer, "Oh Spence. Shes beautiful. Y/Ns okay, they're both okay." Penelope can only hiccup as happy tears flood her eyes, "They're waiting for you."

Spencer can only look at your dad, not knowing what to do for once. "Trust me. You'll want to be in there alone for a little bit." Spencer walks down the hallway following Penelope's directions to your room as she stays behind, describing the features of his newborn daughter to their friends.

He stops in the doorway, seeing you sitting up in bed and holding a blanket wrapped bundle. From how quiet it is he can only think the baby is sleeping. Quietly he says, "Hey." You look up and put a finger over your mouth before gesturing him into the room. He makes his way over, standing next to you with his hand on your lower back. He kisses the top of your head before peering at the little girl who already has his heart. He chokes, "She's perfect." At the sound of his voice you watch as your daughter opens her eyes and looks around before locking eyes with her father, "She knows who you are already."

You slowly hand her to Spencer. He moves to sit in the rocking chair that's next to your bed as you let yourself get comfortable, listening to Spencer whisper random nothings to the small girl. You watch as she holds onto his finger before falling asleep again, "She has your eyes." "And your curls." You both watch the sleeping baby before hearing a knock on the door.

Seeing your dad in the doorway you smile. He makes his way to your bedside, placing a kiss on your head, "You got a carseat?" "I had it in my trunk. Was going to bring it over the weekend after this case, but looks like there was a change of plans. How are you feeling?" You smile, "Like I just gave birth to a baby. How does it feel to be a grandpa?" Your dad can only shake his head before his eyes travel to his granddaughter, "I remember when I held you the first time." You simply look at him. "I don't." You dad closes his eyes with a chuckle, "Smart ass."

Spencer stands up and you watch as he slowly hands your daughter to your dad, before moving to stand next to you. You watch your dad smile when a small yawn is heard, "What's her name?" "We couldnt pick between Alicia and Anna, so we made Annalisia." You dad shakes his head with a smile knowing just how indecisive you can be as he looks at the almost spitting image of his daughter in his arms, "Plenty of nicknames for that mouthful."

After a few more minutes theres another knock on the door and you smile seeing your team in the doorway, Penelope now holding balloons as Jj holds flowers. You watch with a smile as everyone fusses over the baby, thinking to yourself that you might be a daddy's girl and only had him growing up, but this girl will be loved by everyone in your makeshift family that you've built. When she starts crying shes immediately transferred to Spencer's arms to allow you to rest up, everyone watching as she immediately stops as she looks up at her dad, Morgan joking, "Look at that already a daddy's girl." Your dad chuckles from his spot next to you and nudges you, "Just like her mom."

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine

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coolgirl · 5 years ago

Note

Jason expert rate Jason’s designs

sorry for being late i was busy with school but now i’m free so to celebrate. jason indulgence.

pre-crisis not robin

very cute. i like that it has a lil more of flair to it? the collar and the lines on the gloves and the shorter cape.. also love it has pants. king rlly king. wonder if they already knew he was gonna be robin anyways or if they were still considering nightbird. anyways, 8/10 bc its cute

pre & post-crisis robin (bc its basically the same)

i mean its a classic.. however it reminds me jason was the only robin who was simply given dick’s clothes rather than like. have an unique look? which sucks. 7/10 middle child syndrome is REAL

post-crisis robin (winter edition)

OKAY NOW THIS. i absolutely love. is it tacky? oh yes without a doubt. i still love the pants and the sleeves. finally winter clothes for this child, especially considering his new titans scene where he was bitching about the costume not being snow proof. he got what he wanted! 9/10

new 52/rebirth costume by

EPIC. IDC I LOVE IT.the circles on his arms and his boots.. the lines on his legs.. i just love it. i love the red mask too… it feels.. not more unique, but feels more jason-y than the other costume. 10/10

NOW. onto older stuff

hush

as u can see im VERY confusion about the pouches and the straps?? why??? whats the purpose.. generally its fine. the white strand moved a nation and i think the chest piece is cool, but everything else.. uglee. like the long as hell jacket and him looking 40 years old like why r u 19 looking like fifty? ugly white man. 5/10

winicks/utrh version

LITERALLY A CLASSIC. i love this costume sooo much. like jason obviously grew out of it, as in it wouldnt make sense for him anymore to go with something like this as his main costume because i feel like this fit the utrh mood (him not veing a vigilante/hero/villain whatver but trying to be a mob boss n shit) and it just. fucks. i love the helmet just being plain with no stupid mouth or nose shape. i simply love it. 10/10

nigthwing

its just. its just the nightwing costume. didnt even try he just stole that from dick. he still rocks it and looks better than dick, and u gotta give him points for accessorizing with his dagger. 7/10

red robin

im not. a big fan of this costume.. i think the cowl is ugly, it just does not work for someone as big as jason… however i do like why he took this mantle and what it meant.. 6/10 no words head empty.

oh brother. furryman

ITS SUCH AN UGLY COSTUME. muzzle batman walked so muzzle red hood could run. its just. ugly like ugly. i dont like the ears or again the muzzle or whatever the hell is going on in the arms.. its just so edgy. 5/10

WANNA KNOW WHAT A SEXY EVIL BATMAN COSTUME LOOK LIKE?

Injustice 2 batman

I2 HAD IT IN THE BAG BABY. i like that its like classic batman costume but again! with some jason touches! the red eyes, the electric tiddies making a comeback.. epic genuinely epic. 10/10

and if ur not into evil jason

100% dad ‘i have my life figured out’ batman jason

just like the nightwing costume this is just. batman costume. nothing special or different from it so its like did u even try? BUT in this scenario it actually means smth that he stuck to bruces costume.. sweet.. but boring. 7/10

speaking of. evil ugly designs. ugh i hate this.

this motherfucker

ive never. ever. felt as humiliated by a costume than thetime jason wore this. like MORTIFYING RLLY. its DISGUSTINGGG. the helmet shape. the fucking WHITE. the SKULL PLEASE WHO DESIGNED THIS WHO HATES ME IN PARTICULAR SO MUCH??? THIS MAN DOES NOT FUCK! HES UGLY! HE STINKS!!!! the red guns are epic that much i can say. LOOK AT THOSE PANS GOD ITS SO HUMILLIATING. 0/10 WORST COSTUME EVER.

HOWEVER. winick and the artist spun GOLD from it, because next time jason wore possibly my favorite costume to date

this motherfucker…2!

like look how much better it looks with a little of swag.. the helmet without eyes.. the belts.. the fucking leather jacket.. keeping the red guns/gloves.. like seriously i dont know a better man. the skull is still awful and i wouldve replaced the white for black and MWAH best costume. like the black part at the top make it all red and the white make it black.. god this jason fucks massively i love him. 11/10 my favorite by a landslide perhaps

new 52/rebirth red hood

OKAY I KNOW theyre slightly different (rebirth has shorter sleeves and a more padded look) but to me its like. same thing. okay i think its.. fine. its not phenomenal but its not ugly.. i like the brown jacket more than the black jacket i have to admit, its more distinctive and i simply like the color more, however i do not.. like jason having the bat symbol.. but thats also a me thing about how badly written this is. anyways. the helmet with the mouth disgusts me and everytime its drawn like that its humilliating. like. 7/10. maybe 7+. when it has the mouth or like nose ANY FACIAL EXPRESSION RLLY its a 5.

wingman

oh i absolutely despise that helmet. he looks like fucking. terminator. its the ugliest shape ive ever seen and the visor is.. huge. i dont like the shoulder pads either idk what the fuck its going on with the thing around his neck either.. like hes. knockout batman and i HATEEE IT. damians costume slaps tho. i just… its… ugly. like.. 3/10.

get damian back arc red hood costume

oh im a HUGE fan of this design.i love how his costume is designed in a way thats like. if jason was a dnd character he absolutely would be a tank. the padding, the red undertones everywhere, i just.. love it. i like how all the costumes were done to reflect their personalities you know.. i like this robin red hood hybrid. 9/10 would even say 10/10 bc i just enjoy how gleason draws jason.

red hood/arsenal costume

its like. i dont hate it completely (i love the way the hood+helmet looks) and thats.. yeah thats pretty much all i like about it. i HATEEEE the vest i hate it fr.i hate how huge the sumbol is and idk this costume just does not spark joy. 5/10

outlaw costume

okay this one. this one drives me insane. because like. okay i dig parts of it. i like the lack of sleeves. i like the gloves thingies. i like the hood. i could get aboard him ditching the helmet - it breaks all the damn time anyways. i like the stripes on his pants in the boots. ALL SEPARATE? NEAT. now i hate. hate. the muzzle. like WHY IT LOOKS SO UGLYYY LIKE SO UGLY like unless the artist GETS IT and is SEXY it looks awful. look at this

AWFUL. also like it made sense for when he was on the run and he had to make do and assemble a costume from what he had but like now hes sponsored by lex, get that man a goddamn new suit already please. anyways. 6/10.. like i said i like many elements from it but its still.. kinda ugly all together and depends A LOT on the artist.

three jokers

im torn on this one.. i think its a bit boring.. i dont rlly like the top part, it reminds me SOO much of that one tt issue where he beat the fuck out of tim while wearing a robin costume like i understad the implications of him wearing a costume thats similar to the robin blouse but im not a big fan.. also i prefer the brown leather jacket. its like not his worst costume by far but not the best.. like pretty basic? i would say 6/10

NOW SOME AUS.

tiny titans & lil gotham

okay these two are like. pretty much the canon versions of robin and red hood HOWEVER they both have details that are different from the original version and DESERVE a mention. the curls on robin jason and jasons red gloves/belt are ICONIC. whoever designed them knew what they were about, so 10/10 best bapy jason.

arkham knight

does the person who designed this know how much theyve done for the lgbt community? i hope they do. i love.. a lot about this costume. i love the ears, i love how techno it is, i love the layers to it.. im.. not a big fan of the whole military thingy but i have to admit that applying it to the design itself is kind of neat.. i love the colors too and how.. practical it is while being. well. kinda dramatic? the whole bat aesthetic.. yeah. i love it. 9/10

arkham red hood

this one.. when u think about it the outlaw version is VEEERY similar to this one: the pants, the hood, the jacket eve. however i like this helmet so much more, i have a weakness for eyeless (??) helmets.. i like the little details of it as well, i remember that pic going around of it being held together with like. fuckign stitches and bandaids. legendary. i love this look, i would say 9+/10

injustice 2 jason

okay gonna go ahead and say it: not a big fan of the helmet. it looks like.. a bug? the lenses do not spark joy. this bitch has many styles and like toners etc and i will no rate them all. i think its a pretty basic design, not the best but not the worst either. like if it was an exam i would make them pass but make faces at what im reading like eeehhhgh. 7/10.

hag jason

middle one is like literally, on the outside and superficial level, just. his usual costume. the jacket and the grey kevlar and the bat. now the gloves are sexy as hell.. and in the whit ebackground one u can appreciate the under costume better and i really like it?? i just.. like the design. I HATE HOWEVER the bat helmet. WHY IS IT HOLLOW?? BITCH HELLO?? AND THE BATMAN SYMBOL DOES NOT MAKE SENSE! and i like things making sense!!!. we will not talk about jason in this book. like.. 8/10. maybe 9 if im feeling it.

hag jason 2: the hagger and the furious

hes just.. a little old man.. he cannot change this.. i like this design. i like seeing jason grow old. wish it wasnt in this context. my father rlly. 8/10

—-

am i forgetting any jays.. i wont do all animated robins because they all look the same and the one that doesnt i do not like. SO HERES my thoughts..

#Anon #jason todd #jason.txt #THIS has been my weekly jason rant. come back next week for more

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 6 years ago

Text

Jelly Bean (Batfam x toddler!Batsis)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Angst, Psycho Word count:~2835 Summary: (Don’t wanna spoil)

You loved school.

Learning new things, spending time with your friends, playing on the playground and having fun in general. It was awesome. So, like everyday, you basically jumped out of your bed when Alfred woke you up, got dressed in a violet princess-y dress with a bat-symbol on the chest-part which Duke has given you as an I-hope-you-accept-me-as-your-brother-gift (you did) -it soon became your favourite dress and you wore it at least once every two weeks much to your fathers dismay and all your other siblings delight, you don't really know why- and hurried down to join your family at breakfast. You, being your usual cheery self, happily told Damian about the dream you had, while eating the scrambled eggs Alfred had placed before you, not noticing the tiredness of all your siblings, even though your aura alone made them happier and a bit less-tired, since even your excitement about so little things, like the fact that you met a talking cucumber sandwich in your dream, was contagious. When you'd finished eating you hopped into the car (with a little help from Alfred), wiggling the whole way to your primary school and basically ran to your class after hugging Alfred goodbye. Being a first grader was great. No tests, no grades and only nice teachers. One of those teachers was Miss Tanser, your class' teacher and one of the nicest persons you knew. She always joked during lessons, sang catchy songs with the class and never got angry or furious about anything. That was also why she was your favourite, which was the reason for you being extra happy that it was Wednesday. Wednesday meant you would have Miss T in the last two periods and she ends the class with jelly beans like she always did on Wednesdays. The time flew by and soon enough you sat beside one of your friends in the first row of math class, listening to Miss T talking about addition and subtraction, doodling small bats -your favourite animals- in your exercise book when the bell rung. "I guess that's it for today kids," Miss T said, went back to her desk and pulled out a bag of heart-shaped jelly beans. She went through the rows, from the back to the front, giving everyone a bean, until she arrived in front of you, sticking her hand into the bag. When she took it out again, it was empty. "I'm really sorry, but I think that was the last of it." A small pout made its way onto your face and you looked at the desk in front of you, slightly sad, but when you heard Miss T clap you looked up at her smiling. "You know what, I think I still have a bag of them in my car. How about we quickly run over to it and I'll give you a jelly bean." You smiled and nodded, packing your stuff up in record time. Patiently, -since you knew that it was Harper's turn to pick you up and bring you to your violin class (and she always took quite a bit to arrive at your school)- you stood beside the door and waited for Miss T, who still needed to clean her desk up.

When Miss T and you arrived at her car, she opened it up, reached into the glove compartment and came back with a hand full of normal shaped jelly beans in intense green-ish colour. You picked one out and smiled at her, but before you were able to say thanks she said: "If you don't tell the others, you can have all of them. Those are my favourites." At first, you were a bit hesitant, but when you saw her encouraging smile you took the beans. "Thank you very much Miss Tanser," you said politely, slipping two of the sweets into your mouth. They tasted kinda strange, but as they were Miss T's favourites you didn't want to offend her with not eating them and so you just took them all in your mouth and quickly chewed and swallowed them. You turned around, wanting to go back to the front of the school and wait for Harper when you suddenly felt dizzy. Before you even registered what happened, you stumbled onto the floor only to be picked up by someone, not being able to see who before everything went black.

(Back at the Bat-cave) Harper was sitting in the cave sobbing, surrounded by the whole Bat-Family, telling everything she knew. When she arrived at your school, she wasn't greeted by you as she usually was. A bit confused, she searched through the school and asked everyone she met, only to be met with ignorance. "I-I sho-sho-should have been there earlier," she said after she finally calmed down enough. "It's not your fault," Bruce said, even though he was basically going mad on the inside, not bearing the thought of losing you. He just couldn't. Ever since your Mum, Selina Kyle, set you down at the front step of the manor, saying that she didn't want you to grow up as she did and that she'd still be there for you, just not as much as before, he was head's over heels for you (in a platonic way). Your little smile brightened up his days and your innocent was his anchor in the great, deep sea of darkness that was his mind nowadays. He had lost so much in his life, he couldn't lose you too. Gotham couldn't lose you. You weren't only his anchor, you were the city's as well. In those time's of depression, you were the ray of hope that made the civilians hold on and believe in a better future. But if you were gone... Bruce couldn't imagine what would become off him and this city. Dick wasn't any better. He knew that you were the glue that kept this family together. No matter how bad things went, how hard Tim and Damian fought or how pissed Jason was at Bruce, a single look at you made them calm down and overthink their decisions. They just couldn't bear the thought of making you sad or not being able to see you if they messed up bad enough. You were the heart and the soul of the family, without you everything that had been build up, Damian finally calling the others his 'brothers' (even though very rarely), Tim sleeping at least three hours a night, Jason joining the team again and even playing along with Bruce's rules, Cass feeling included and loved, Duke feeling like he belongs to this family, Steph and Harper having people to talk to even in their darkest times and Babs having been able to work through her Trauma and getting back to her old-self, would be gone. Leaving behind a broken family and even more broken people inside it. Jason was angry...no. Not angry, furious. He wanted to tear apart whoever or whatever was the reason for your absence. You were with distance his most favorite sibling. No matter how dark his times, one look at you and he felt like it was worth it. Like everything he's been through was worth it as long as he knew you were safe in his vicinity. But now you weren't. And he wanted to burn the world down to get you back. Tim was slightly numb. His sleep-deprived mind hasn't quite caught up to the fact that you were, indeed, missing. You couldn't be. You were always there. How could anything happen to you, Gotham's little Angel, cutest Baby for five years in a row (and most likely next year first time 'cutest child'). It was impossible, at least in Tim's eyes. Soon enough he'd realize what was happening and he, too, would go crazy in worry. Damian was quite similar to Jason. He was burning with fury, but deep inside, somewhere only you had a place, he was 'so'-close to crying. You were the first person he was truly able to love. The first person he let into his heart, not regretting it for one second. Without you he'd still be the bratty-little-devil he was when he came to Bruce (he's still a bit bratty but in an acceptable way). He couldn't lose you now. In fact, he couldn't ever lose you. It would break him. Cass was dying inside. She loved you with all her heart. You couldn't leave her like that. She was supposed to watch you grow up, teach you how to dance and make you the best fighter there ever was, even better than herself. She was supposed to keep you safe and sound, she would never forgive herself if you were hurt. Steph was also furious, who dared to take you away from her? From all off them? You were her first sister and she wouldn't let anything happen to you. How would she ever pair you off with a cute dude/girl (that she had checked at least ten times over) on her wedding, if you weren't alive by then? How would she ever make your hair and make up for your first school-prom and glare (with her other siblings) at the boy (or the girl) who would take you? All those sister moments would possible never happen and alone the thought of that made her want to cry. Harper felt extremely guilty. If only she'd been there sooner. If only she'd come in a car instead of the bus like she usually did... If only... All those scenarios went through her head, all of them ending with your safety, making her believe it was truly her fault that you were missing now. How could she ever forgive herself, how could her (new) family ever forgive her? If you won't come back, she wouldn't be able to stay anymore. Duke was not any better. He'd only had you as his sister for a short term of time but if anything would happen to you he'd try to kill everyone and then himself. You were his connection to the 'real'-life. You were keeping him grounded in this new (admittedly exciting) vigilante-life. How would he get through that without you?

Bruce and Tim searched through every data bank and looked at the security footage from the area around your school, while the rest of the Family was strolling through the city, searching everywhere for you and Alfred was waiting for a blackmail call with conditions to get you back. Nothing. No call, Nothing. It seemed like you never left the school, but since Cass and Damian had looked through every corner in the school twice, that was impossible. Even though he knew that his Family could do a better job, Bruce was just about to call the Gotham Police Department, when finally: A call. It wasn't what they expected but still helped. Now Every second was counting.

(Back with you)

You were shivering from fear as you sat in the room that was decorated for someone your age. Usually, you would have found it fantastic, but right now you wanted nothing more than to be back at home with your Daddy and your siblings. You had woken up in the trunk of a car, tied up, unable to move and still a little bit dizzy.

When the car stopped and you heard a door open, you closed your eyes and pretended that you were asleep. When the trunk was opened, the cold air surrounded you and made goose-bumps appear on your skin. They got even more intense when two soft arms grabbed you and pulled you out to the car, carrying you somewhere (you were too afraid to open your eyes). But before she was able to carry you far, you remembered something you Aunt Babs had once told you. It was a fairy-tale. Hansel and Gretel, who were brought to the forest with the intend off them getting lost, but they managed to find their way back through a trace they'd left. Not sure what else to do, you carefully ripped your bracelet (that you Dad had given you for the emergency, with his private and Mobil number engraved) off of your arm, trying to be as discreet as possible and let it fall to the floor. You could only hope it would be of some help. A few seconds later you were set down onto a bed, but you let your eyes closed until you heard a door close. That's how you've found yourself in this room. You've already tried to open the door and the window (which was darkened), but they wouldn't budge. Tears welled up in your eyes and you curled up in one of the corners in the room, sobs shaking your body. That's when someone opened the door. You looked up to see Miss Tanser staring down at you and for a second hope flooded you. "I don't know what happened," you sobbed, sitting up slightly, "Please, can you please bring me home?" She smiled, ducked down to your level and hugged you, making you cry into her shoulder. "But you are home, sweetie?" she said, almost hurting you with how hard she hugged you. "What?" you squeaked and tried to wiggle your way out of her arms. "This isn't my home. My home is with my Daddy." She immediately let you go and moved back, staring at you with such a delusion in her eyes that even you -a five-year-old- could recognize it. "No sweetie," she started and caressed your cheek, causing you to lean away, "This is your home. With me. Your Mummy." Utter confusion filled you. "What? My Mummy is away with my Auntie's." Miss T chuckled coldly. "No No No. I don't know why you believe that. I am your Mummy. You've been taken from me for a while, but now we're back together and I'll make sure that you'll never be taken away from me again." You violently shook your head and made fists with your little hands. "No! I wasn't taken away. I want my real Mummy and my Daddy," you cried, letting your temper get the best off you. You felt a sharp pain at the side of your face, causing tears to slip down your cheeks, not yet understanding that your favorite teacher had just slapped you. "I AM YOUR MOTHER! AND UNTIL YOU UNDERSTAND THAT, YOU'LL BE GROUNDED IN YOUR ROOM!" she screamed and rushed out of the room, locking the door after her. Crying, even more, you curled up again, falling asleep from all the drama and the exhaustion.

You woke up from the sounds that reminded you off those movies that Jason always watched or those video games that Dick and Tim played. Scared, you hid under the small desk in the room, when you heard Miss Tanser scream: "YOU CAN'T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME! SHE BELONGS TO ME! NO ONE WILL EVER SE-" there was a loud thump and she stopped screaming, but before you could come out, another thump was hear-able but way closer and louder. "Y/N?" you heard someone shout, followed by footsteps in the room. You tried to stay silent, not knowing what to do, but you couldn't hold back the small whimpers that escaped you. The footsteps got louder and you curled up, even more, closing your eyes when a shadow fell over you. "It's okay, we're here to bring you back to your family," a deep, but a slightly familiar voice said. You opened your eyes and were greeted by the face of the one and only Batman. "Can you please come out?" You thought about it for a second but slowly shook your head. "Why not?" the hero asked you softly. "I-I want my Daddy," you whimpered scared. Batman sighed and raised his hand, causing you to flinch and close your eyes in fear. But, instead of what you expected, he spoke again, saying: "It's me, princess. Can you please look at me?" The voice sounded now exactly like the one of your father. You looked up, expecting Batman, but seeing your Dad instead. "Daddy?" you asked confused. "You're Batman?" "Yes. And I'm so sorry that I couldn't be here sooner," he said, his eyes slightly watery. Immediately you came out from the desk and hugged him as hard as you could. "Shaqiqa," you heard someone shout and another pair off arms grabbed you and you were hugged. You looked up to see Robin look at you with relieve, but you only knew one person who called you 'Shaqiqa'. You raised your hand and put it on his cheek. "Dami?" you asked and he just sheepishly smiled at your father. "It's okay. We'll explain to you everything when we're back home, okay princess?" Bruce said, taking you from Damian and carrying you out of the psycho's house, careful to not let you see the riot that they'd caused in the rush to get you. All of your siblings, even Bruce, decided to start your training now, that they'd never feel as helpless as they'd fell today.

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mmazzeroo · 5 years ago

Text

Heartstrings, chapter 22:

DANY IV - It’s A Little Dragonwolf

I'm so very sorry for the long wait. OMG! Oh well, I guess this is a gift that just keeps on giving, right? Haha..ha.. *hangs head in shame*

Anyway, @helloimnotawesome, I know you're not feeling well at the moment so I hope this can maybe provide you a little bit of a respite. Much love!!!

Without further ado:

---

"Happy nameday, Jon," Theon uttered quietly, a trembling hand holding out a large, rolled up sheet of paper, held together with a bit of red string.

Like a timid animal, Theon had carefully approached her and Jon as the two of them sat snuggled up together on a bench in the lemon grove. My absolute favourite part of the garden. Smells like home - and next to Jon it feels like it too.

Dany was sure the festivities were still unfolding in the dining hall. Everyone knew Jon needed occasional breaks from social gatherings, so no one in the family batted an eye when the two of them went for an evening stroll in the garden.

This, however, felt like a moment between Jon and Theon so she moved to get up and give them their space.

"No."

The urgency in his voice caused both her and Jon to look up.

Theon took half a step to the side before stopping himself, immediately casting his eyes downwards and instead taking a large step backwards. As if frozen in place he kept is head down, eyes fixed on a spot somewhere near his feet. He looks like a beaten dog that just remembered defending itself would only ensure more beating.

Viserys had warned them that Theon might not ever behave 'proper' human-like again. 'Might' being the most hopeful projection. It was like saying there might be world peace one day. It made Dany's blood boil with rage and simultaneously shattered her heart in a thousand pieces.

She still clearly remembered what state Jon had been in. He'd been all hurt, anger and outright rage. 'It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog.' At the moment she couldn't remember where the quote was from but it sounded like something President Tyrell could've said. Jon would rather die fighting than not fight at all, but Theon..sweet Theon..had no fight left in him.

As a vet Dany had seen her fair share of neglected and abused animals. One thing they all had in common was how well they'd responded to some good old TLC - tender loving care - and she refused to believe that Theon's heart, mind and soul couldn't be mended, at least in part, by the same. 'You don't throw a whole life away just because he's banged up a little' - her husband's words still ringing in her mind years after he spoke them by the campfire on Dragonstone. My love, how I loved your big heart and your ability to see the best in everyone.

"Theon?" She spoke as softly as she knew how to, "please look at me, sweetheart."

He slowly looked up, staring back at her with dark frightened eyes. A deer caught in the headlights.

Dany gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "Would you like me to stay while you talk to Jon?"

A barely noticeable nod was the only response given.

"Ok, I'll stay. Thank you."

She sat back on the bench, leaning her head against Jon's shoulder who in turn gave her hand a light squeeze as they shared a small smile. Now all they could do was wait. They needed to let Theon control the speed of things.

As they sat quietly, patiently waiting for their broken friend to make a move she carefully watched Theon's face. It was clear his mind was racing. His face stoic, but those dark eyes of his were swimming with emotions. He looked as if he was on the brink of bolting, yet deep-seated fears from all the years of abuse kept him frozen in place. Dany had noticed how his eyes had gradually become more expressive over the course of the year he'd been living with them at Starfall. No longer the deep dark pits of emptiness; they were slowly beginning to show a little flicker of life in there. It was that tiny bit of life that now let her know that the haunted man behind the eyes were fighting to build up his courage.

He found it.

With a resolute look in his eyes, Theon took a daring step forward and held the rolled up sheet of paper out towards Jon. Again.

"Thank you, my friend."

At the mention of the word 'friend', Theon winced.

"You are my friend," Jon repeated emphasising every word. "You were then and you are now."

Theon jerked his head a couple of times in what appeared to be an attempt to nod. A ghost of a smile flicked across his face but was gone in the blink of an eye. Wait! Are those tears?

Quickly Dany searched his face for any other signs of emotions, but only Theon's quick swipe of his hand across the face told her she'd been right. She couldn't blame him though. Jon had confided to her how Theon used to treat him like his own personal punching-bag. At the same time though the two boys basically only had each other to depend on. Despite only being a boy, Jon had quickly understood that Theon merely did what he did to survive. He was the youngest of the Greyjoys, a family who took the 'survival of the fittest' quite literally.

The entire Greyjoy clan treated Theon anyway they wanted, the degrees of degrading and humiliating treatment increasing by the day. Jon had never given her details, and don't think I could ever bare to hear it now. The only one Theon had to take all his anger and frustration out on was Jon who, with a bastard's name, no one gave two shits about. Beating Jon saved Theon a sliver of dignity in the eyes of the remaining Greyjoy family; being beaten by Theon oddly meant Jon was considered Theon's property - his pet - and therefore spared beatings by the other, and older, orphan boys.

Thus, Jon and Theon developed their mutual messed up dependency on each other for the sake of survival. After being sent to Craster's Keep Jon had no idea what'd happened to Theon, but he'd confessed to Dany that he suspected it involved Theon's uncle, Euron. Her husband had labelled the Greyjoy captain 'a complete and utter psycho'. She could only imagine the kind of abuse Theon had suffered at his uncle's hands. His uncle, his own blood for fuck's sake!

Dany considered herself lucky for never having crossed paths with any of the Greyjoys as a child. There wasn't much all of Westeros agreed on, however the collective loathing of the Greyjoys - and Boltons for that matter - was one of the rare cases.

"May I open it now?" Jon smiled up at his nervous friend whose only response was a silent nod.

Carefully untying the string and tucking it in his pocket, Jon unrolled the paper and uncovered a black and white pencil drawing.

"Oh Theon, it's beautiful!" Dany marvelled at the masterpiece before her. Beautiful but heart-breaking.

"It sure is," her husband echoed next to her, voice thick with emotion, "did you make this yourself?"

Eyes full of uncertainty looked from Jon to her and back again. "Y-yes, I did," Theon mumbled, fingertips fidgeting with the seams of his pants. "Dr. Viserys said it'd be good for me."

He speaks! The few times she'd heard Theon speak more than a few words at a time, he'd sounded like a toddler stumbling its way through 'language-ing'. This however had been a full, grammatically correct sentence. The revelation made her want to jump for joy, but instead she settled for squeezing her husband's arm extra tight. Jon responded by handing her one edge of paper and snuggled her closer to him.

Now they could both examine the drawing fully. As she initially thought the drawing was a beautiful display of skill but the scene itself was harrowing.

At the centre was a large kraken. Surrounded by ships, it was clearly fighting for survival. There were spears sticking out of its body, a couple of severed limps sinking in the water, and blood gushing from a wound to the head where a large hook was attached - the crew on one of the ships pulling on ropes tied to the hook. From underneath the water, shadows were swimming up towards the struggling kraken, pulling at its arms, dragging it down. Oh sweet Theon! Once again Dany felt her heart break seeing this shell of a man attempting to convey his soul crushing pain.

In the sky a small group of dragons were swooping and setting the ships ablaze in the background. A pack of wolves stood on the shore - teeth bared, hind-legs dug in to the ground as they too were pulling on robes. Oh! The kraken had an arm intertwined with the rope the wolves pulled at. Another arm was digging into the sand, desperately trying to hold on to something. No mistaken the symbolism; he's reaching out to us.

Teary eyed Dany peeked over to her husband. Noticing his Adam's apple bop she knew she wasn't alone in battling a wave of emotions. Although I guess I could blame any momentary emotional instability on you, she bit back a smile while tenderly rubbing a warm hand over her protruding stomach.

"Do...it..," Theon abruptly stopped himself again.

"Sweetheart, you always have permission to speak here." He still avoided eye contact. "Please, go ahead," Dany gently prodded him. Jon pulled her closer and kissed her temple.

It took a couple of beats for Theon to muster up his courage one more time.

"It is ok?" He winced but continued, "d-do you like it?"

"It's amazing and I love it!" Jon took the drawing and handed it over to Dany as he got up. Two steps and he was toe to toe with Theon. "—and so are you."

Before their broken friend could respond Jon had him wrapped in a bearhug. There was a fleeting glimpse of panic before he eased into it and all but collapsed in Jon's arms. Besides the cinnabons, this was the first human contact Theon had had in years. Dany was amazed. He must be so tired, poor thing. He's taken huge strides today. Vis would be very proud of him. I know Jon and I are.

Her husband gently rocked a sobbing Theon who was clinging to him as if for dear life. She could hear Jon's calm voice quietly speaking to their distraught friend, "I got you. It's gonna be alright. You're safe now."

She remembered the night Jon had disclosed to her - laying in his arms, all tangled up in sheets - how he'd say those same words to everyone he rescued while in the Night's Watch. He'd repeat the words to them like a mantra, over and over and over until they calmed down; minutes or hours didn't matter to him - he'd keep speaking until they understood they'd been saved. My hero. If it wasn't for the sombre picture in front of her she would've giggled to herself for secretly thinking of Jon as a hero. Well, he's a hero to me and others whether he likes it or not.

Theon seemed to have calmed down. Only a few irregular sniffs could be heard now. His grip on Jon loosened but upon seeing Dany he tried hiding his face from her sight.

"No no, we'll have none of that now, young man," Jon gently coaxed Theon's head back up. "No shame in crying. No shame in having a heart. No shame in being human." Yup, definitely a hero.

Still holding on to each other, Jon took two steps back, turned around and eased Theon down on to the bench next to Dany. Jon dug out a handkerchief from a pocket, crouched in front of his friend and carefully wiped the tears from Theon's eyes and cheeks.

"Man to man; heart to heart, Theon - we're champions you and I. We made it out. We're finding our way through."

Quiet as always Theon listened to Jon speak, fingers picking at the shirt sleeves.

"I see you out there in that lonely ocean. Fighting for your life, your sanity, your humanity. Battling the demons and shadows all gnawing, scratching and eating away at your mind. I see you, my friend. I see you. I see you." Jon took a couple of deep breaths steading himself. I know this hurts you too, my love, but remember to stay calm for Theon's sake.

Silent tears rolled down Theon's cheeks once again. Dany was fighting her instinct to reach out to him and hold his hand, maybe a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It's a miracle he's letting Jon touch him and I don't want to push him.

"I'll fight for you, Theon. Till my heart is black and blue - and longer if needed. All I'm asking is you keep swimming. It's exhausting, I know-" he wrapped his hands around Theon's- "but I'll be right here with you to keep your head above water whenever you need a break, and you can rest for as long as you need. Just please keep swimming, Theon. We'll help re-attach your kraken arms—"

"I'm not a kraken," Theon hissed.

Taken aback, her husband sent her a crooked smile. So there's a sliver of fight left in the dog after all. Good!

"I'm not a kraken; don't want to be one," he confessed weakly, "not anymore."

"A wolf then?" Jon inquired.

"I'm not a Stark."

"An orca maybe?"

Both men looked at her puzzled.

"I just thought..," she trailed off. Think before you speak, Dany. Fuck's sake! She cleared her throat. "Orcas are also known as wolves of the sea. They have several traits similar to wolves: They're intelligent, curious, playful. They're loyal and fierce protectors. Loving and affectionate, and form strong family ties. Talented and ruthless hunters."

Theon had lowered his head again, back to staring at his hands in his lap. Shit! I pushed him too far.

Still crouching before him Jon was able to see his face though, and apparently it wasn't as bad as Dany feared because her husband gave her a small nod indicating she should keep speaking.

"They're survivors - known to live and thrive both as far south as the Summer Sea and as far north as the Shivering Sea. Passing knowledge from generation to generation. Adapting to their environment they utilise different hunting techniques depending on available prey."

Nibbling on a corner of his lower lip, casting frequent glances her way out of the corner of his eye, Dany could tell Theon was mulling over her words.

"—speaking of prey," she continued, leaning a bit closer to Theon lowering her voice adding a secretive aspect to their conversation, "there are interesting reports coming from the Cinnamon Straits, reports of sightings by both locals and scientists, speaking of a family of orcas who have specialised in hunting, killing and eating great white sharks."

Wide-eyed, both men turned to her. Dany looked back with a smirk on her face. That got their attention.

"I don't know about you guys but I think that's pretty bad-ass." She dared to place her hand on Theon's lower arm as she added, "-and so are you, sweetheart."

Drawing a shaky breathe, he muttered, "I'd like to believe that."

"Believe it," Jon urged, "all of it, and all the wolves and dragons you sketched-" pointing to the paper in Dany's hand- "will be right here to remind you whenever you need to hear it."

Theon was back to his contemplative silence, meaning Jon and her were back to waiting on their broken friend to decide where to go from here. He hasn't fully retracted into his shell though. Gods please let that be a good sign.

"Being an orca sounds nice," nodding to himself he added, "I'd like that."

Jon grinned, "that's settled then. C'mon let's get you two back inside - it's getting a bit chilly out here."

She's been so focus on Theon that she hadn't noticed she was shivering; no doubt her ever watchful husband had seen it from the second it began. My hero.

As they slowly made it up the path through the garden, Theon turned to her. "If I'm an orca now...," he trailed off, hesitating.

"—yes?" She smiled reassuringly at him.

"—then..what's..I mean.."

"Just breathe, dear, take your time and you can me ask anything."

Theon nodded slightly as he stared down at his feet. Glancing up nervously, he muttered, "what about your baby?"

She flashed Theon a smile before caching her husband's sparkling eyes as well. Affectionally stroking her pregnant stomach, voice filled with pride she replied, "it's a little dragonwolf."

#jonerys fanfic #jonerys modern au #jonerys secret Santa #gift that keeps on giving #mazzian writing

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cleverbroadwayurl · 6 years ago

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Can’t Help Falling in Love (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt 15 Supplement)

Song: Can’t Help Falling in Love cover by Pentatonix

Want More? I’m just gonna link my masterlist here because usually I do a sequence but it might be a little hard to figure out what order to link it in

Word Count: 4984

A/N: Hey! I finally got this done! Yay! I’m going to tag everyone who I usually tag in this series so they’ll see it! That being said: do not feel inclined to read this part. It’s heavily triggering, even to me, and has some extremely mature themes. If you need to stop reading at any time, I will never be offended or encourage you to read. You have the right to stop reading at any time. This part is not extremely important to the story and was originally not going to be posted. Because of that, this piece will not show up in the tags. It’s not fair to post something so intense. The next part should be out next weekend, if you choose to skip this one. Please enjoy this part, and thank you so much for following!

Trigger Warnings: Nonconsensual actions (nothing under the umbrella of sexual assault), implications of abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of cheating, implied cheating, self depreciation, battered wife syndrome symptoms, IF I MISSED ANYTHING ELSE PLEASE NOTIFY ME RIGHT AWAY SO I CAN FIX IT

Taglist: @be-more-heidi-hansen @retrogarden @catatonic-kuragin @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans @bluhimaweirdo @stargirl-murphy

You: See you on Thursday, Jeremy :) You: Have a wonderful rest of your night

Time ticked slower and slower, each passing second dragging on. Seconds turned into years of wasting away, waiting for just the right moment to make an escape, a checked line through and through painting its way through your mind, precluding any specific thoughts. The plan was set, everything prepared, but for now, everything to was remain static, a secret, hanging in silence, stuck on another plane of reality; daydreaming itself.

The air was still, everything in the all-too-white room with the little black leather chairs pretending that everything was okay, that this wasn’t a ploy; a scam, that nothing would happen except what was already going on. The scene was set, light coming in from the lame dome light on the greyish textured ceiling, a little window that was placed elegantly above the TV, it portraying freedom, daydreams of your feet walking around on the upper floor towards the front door and away into freedom that was craved by exactly one person in the small split level house. Hands glued to controller, eyes resting on the screen, sweaty palms, hands shaky, arms around another; everything meticulously given, set like the opening scene of a play, nothing feeling real except the seconds ticking and ticking, one right after another.

You sat on the left, just like you always did: close to the sliding doors but far from the single escape that was an actual viable option. The glass doors were always locked, animals hungry for some action outside—whether that be real monsters or humanistic ones lurking outside. Far enough away that any spare seconds would be to devoting you back into the room. It was the bottom floor of the split-level blue house, one that you knew by heart—well, except the upstairs. But everything else had been fair game: garage sitting across from the room you’d sat in, your car parked outside in such a way that people were able to enter and exit freely: a distinct difference to what you’d known, keys still on the ground, arranged in the way you’d set them a few hours before, next to clutter that would be too painful to step on, too precious to have something so violent happen to it—at least you’d assumed, it was just glorified garbage that rested on both sides of the chairs, tv set on white cabinet that was probably imported from Ikea. Summer heat slipped into the room, but a weak air conditioner kept it from getting too warm. Tacky blue plaid curtains that resembled a pajama shirt—baby blue in color, matched with white—were drawn, no one could see in, the house almost too far away from civilization, too soundproof for anyone’s liking.

The room extended backwards, your boyfriend’s sister’s belongings strewn about, untouched, but loved ever so much by both girls. A balance beam, a mat, and pink littered the back corners. You’d once smiled and laughed when they were in the room. You both had. But now, right now, they were banished. Everyone was banished. You can’t remember if the door was locked, you can’t remember about an hour ago, seconds still rhythmically ticking into oblivion. Only one thought lingered as you readjusted your palms, sweat making everything too slippery—did they know? They were younger than him, the eldest not even a decade old. A choice appeared on the screen, and almost immediately, everything left except the seconds. Choices are timed, the red bar across the screen moving slower than you’re used to; it’s been doing that all night, all day, from the moment you’d sat down on this Thursday. One quick hand stroke, button pressed, life continuing on, the sun setting, and that dumb clock ticking down the seconds that you’d been counting for hours. No amount of quick-time, decisions, or focusing on not letting others die would allow for any speeding up, everything working at a speed that would only be favorable to sloths or snails. You weren’t either.

His arm is around you—maybe that’s why it feels warmer than usual. Head against your shoulder, occasional, slutty kisses given, kissing between loading screens, socks, shorts, t-shirts, while you’re stuck in a sweater, unsure of what littered your arms. Exhale. Out of sight, out of mind. Your eyes refocused on the screen, but your mind still stuck in soft focus. Seconds, about 7, before he exhales onto your skin and you shudder, panic coursing through your veins not at maximum speed, but enough to probably cause some health problems. Your body isn’t screaming to run yet, but your chest gets heavy, limbs glued to the same shitty black leather seat, hoping for that text that would allow you to step out into the real world, into the freedom that was desired.

Wrapped around him, he wrapped around you. Hands illegally roaming until they finally rested and weighed you to the leather seat that you desperately never wanted to see again. Your phone remained in your pocket, almost begging for a vibration as your eyes shifted over the subtitles, each color almost painful as his grip tightened, giving something like a hug—but that wasn’t quite it. Your feelings were numb, almost cold to the touch. Eyes trained, fake smiles, complete embarrassment at wrong choices because you were thinking about that selfish freedom, thinking about being anywhere but there, too afraid to admit to yourself that maybe you didn’t like hanging out with him. What if he’s a mind reader? What if he knows you’re leaving for a better experience in a park at 9:30? You exhale; another kiss burning into your skin, pain lingering around the wound.

In the middle of a choice, the room seemingly darker, the golden hour long gone, your phone finally vibrates, interrupting the counting of ever passing seconds with a joyous symphony. 9:15. He’s early. Thank god. You hoped it wasn’t a cancellation for some reason or another, that it wasn’t something that would cause you to perpetually be there until you could get away for even just a slight second, a fraction of a choice, to text someone for an out. But this was Jeremy you were talking about: the cute pale lanky boy with the hair that almost defied physics with its curl; ringlets that would make any mathematician jealous, the striped shirt wearing boy who had been only sweet before, and he was bound to be again—meaning he probably wouldn’t cancel last second like some assholes from school did, like the person next to you did, like you’d done to him. Yeah, this was Jeremy. He wasn’t you—shifting causing to break you from your thoughts, the arm that remained stoic around you acting as a prison chain, a firm reminder that you’d made a mistake, a symbol that portrayed that you didn’t deserve Jeremy; you were too broken, too heavy, too…you. A cut off for a scene happens, grey loading screen plaguing the screen.

It’s a second before you shift yourself, knowing you were already testing your own limits with your boyfriend. You pull out your phone, brightness turned completely down as 9:17 appeared, and underneath that, a text from the one boy you’d just been thinking about.

Jeremy: No rush, but I’m here! Let me know when you get here so that I can help you find me!

Opening your phone was risky, first degree murder worthy, but you knew you had to text him back, and the loading screen was the best time to do it, while everything around you was calm but you were burning with thousands on watts—energy rushing through your body. It was the only way that this was going to work. Plus, with the reply, maybe your boyfriend would think that it was just your mom; that he’d read the contact wrong.

(Y/N): Perfect! I just have to do something really fast and then I’ll be there!

Another stroke and your phone went black, locked, safe from peeping eyes. A second passed before you put on the mask that almost forms into your face, batting your eyes so they seemed brighter and full of something similar to affection. You lifted the corners of your mouth, attempting to appear innocent to the person who sat beside you, unmoving and still holding you to the leather chair that was now most likely about to showcase all of the nervous sweat that was running out of your body. With a tooth-showing smile to prevent suspicion, you pivoted your head to look at the boy beside you. “Hey, I think I have to go. My mom wants me home and I have to run an errand.”

He lets go slowly, retracting his hand as if the world were underwater for a second before moving that hand to your face, cupping it and bringing it closer to his. Your neck resisted for a bit, but he only pulled harder, body glued to the seat, unsure of the objects in the room now, unsure of the path, unsure of escape of this specific slutty action. His other hand now held yours, gripping it—stuck—forced into submitting to an action that you hadn’t wanted in months; left to deal with the turmoil and violation later. You’d forget what happened within the hour anyways: either claiming it was your fault, which is was, and dismissing it or just simply blocking it out of your memory.

Somewhat prepared for what this was about to be, he still did it anyways without asking, without warning, hand pulling your wrist into him and wrapping it around him, hand snaking its way to the back of your neck. Lips consumed yours, no mercy as an exchange happened. The will to pull away kept tugging at you, but with his hand digging into the back of your skull, escape wasn’t possible. The world begins to fades at the edges, every lie ever told becoming truth, making you believe even the most obscure as his mouth continued to move while you remained motionless—emotionless. Teeth come in contact with your lips, you still unsure of opening your mouth or leaving it a tight vacuum while he tries desperately to get what he wants. Numbness settles, a chant that you know too well forms in your head: don’t worry about it right now, this is what couples do, why do you feel violated, just keep going, just keep going, just keep going. The absence of light: complete darkness became your friend as he kept going, forcing harder and harder for your face to become one with his, cannibalistic actions being registered, only to be forgotten later.

He breaks the kiss at the sound of the next scene of the game playing, letting you go and leaving you choking on air that you’d forgotten to breathe as the kiss happened. With a second, he pauses the game and lets you stand, grabbing your things. You take note of the things around: game cases, old take out wrappers, empty cups, chargers. Bag now slung around you, jingling keys once again in your hand.

As soon as you were ready to make the home stretch, his hand reaches out and pulls you back, completely, catching you off guard in a kiss as his hands resume their place for just a split moment. Stuff behind you prevents backing up as you freeze, almost falling into his arms as he continues, the feeling of too much and spit all the way down to your chin, makeup there gone, showing something that was for your eyes only. His hands find their way onto your hips, moving downwards, slowly, almost teasing to some but torturous to you. Aggressive movements, pulling you into his body, wrapping you up in his twisted grip, darkness returned, no exhaling, no breathing, stay stuck, submit submit submit. This time there’s no choice to keep your jaw closed, forcing you closer, forcing your mouth open, air around you becoming soiled and heavy. It’s hard to breathe, so you just don’t, stuck in the place, arms acting like steel and holding you there; holding you accountable. Spit makes its way to your upper lip, and it takes all the strength in the world to not gag right there. More sweat forms, worries enter your mind as his hands now move lower and lower down your back, almost resting in a place that isn’t comfortable for exactly one person in this situation. You can feel your face pale, feeling the white walls collapsing in on you.

Finally, it breaks. Another moment, and he’s walking you to the exit, almost opening the wooden inside white door with the lock you’d heard click too many times. Violation makes its way through your body, seeping down from your lips and face all the way to your toes. Survival instincts are in full swing, eyes bright but not from love. You give him a smile, fluttering your eyelashes again, making this whole façade of a loving relationship more of a reality with every step, knowing that if you didn’t, that would be death: game over. He’s smiling in a similar way, but at this point, it’s hard to tell if he’s being genuine or if it’s a mimic of the one thing you can do well. His hand is still grasping yours, getting tighter as you two get closer and closer to the door with the brass knob, bathroom to the right with the grey washer and dryer, each front loading with baskets on top. How bad you envied that bathroom with the lock, the one you’d been in the last time you went to Jeremy’s. Fuck, you had to get out of here.

“Are you sure you have to go, babe?” his voice comes, pulling you out of your daydream of leaving, stricter, an edge to it, as if you had a choice and could say no; like it was your fault for having a mom that wanted you home—even though that had been a lie. His grip tightens, you’re sure that your hand is going to have marks on it at this point.

“Yeah. My mom needs me home soon, and I have to run an errand.”

He stops and doesn’t make eye contact until a moment before the world crashing sentence emerges from his mouth: “I saw it.”

And that’s it, everything cracks, breaking into a million pieces. He doesn’t need to be specific about what he saw, everything falling apart at the seams and turning into a complete chaos, storm running straight through this whatever the fuck you call it if it’s not a fucking trashy basement. You can feel your hands begin to shake, eyes looking at the window that looks into the kitchen, into freedom herself, praying that someone would be home this time. But of course, your luck had run out. The numbness that had been there vaguely throughout the night now exited and the rest was filled with the need to get out, but your body being too frozen to do so. Your lie had fallen through and he knew, but all you could do was attempt to be quiet, don’t disclose anything that could put you into more danger. Deny it, deny it, deny it.

“If you’re hanging out with someone else, go ahead. I guess you can go have fun with Jeremy.”

Lie, lie, lie. “He needs help with something.” It was a stretch, something that was just pulled from thin air, the air that kept thinning, breathing hard as the seconds once again dragged on, lagging into the next dimension, maybe one where this would end up okay and you could actually see Jeremy in the park tonight. The chances were getting slimmer with each second, and you knew that, but maybe, just maybe you could pull this off.

“So he’s your best friend, not me.”

“That’s not true,” and it wasn’t. Your best friend was a mutual friend of you two, the one who’d set you up. Jeremy was just someone who…you didn’t deserve. Moments still passed as if you were paper, wilting with each gust. “I love you.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Crumbling internally, this was the time to take a stand because if you didn’t, freedom would be farther from reach than it ever had been before. Physically, you kept composure, inside your stomach rolled. Your gut still telling you to run, you stood your ground no matter how much you felt the ground shake. “Look, I love you, okay?” Sweeter, dumbass. “I really do. I just need tonight to help him with something. You might be able to come too, if you want. Let me ask him.”

“No, it’s fine. I guess I’ll spend my night alone without you. I’d weigh you down if I went anyways.”

Shit. If you made a wrong move, this could be over. You weren’t sure how rash his decisions would be, police and ambulance had been there just weeks before after he’d been saying the same things. What was going to happen if you didn’t do anything about this? You had to do something; convince him that the statement wasn’t true—convince yourself that you really did want him there. That you loved him. “You wouldn’t, I just…he needs me there. I’m really sorry, I have to go, I’m supposed to meet him at—”

“You know, if you want to continue to side against me, go for it.”

Shock forced your heart to skip a beat, rapidly picking up with each passing millisecond that seemed to lag only minutes ago. “I’m not against you.” Your voice shook, you could hear it, shattering everything around you, legs, arms, hands, sweat, tears, tremors, shakes, all a recipe for what you could only assume was going to be disaster.

“Then why have you been talking to Jeremy more than me lately? Do I really mean less to you than him?”

“No! Why would he mean more to me than you?”

“Because you’re cheating on me with him.” Shit shit shit.

“I’m not, I promise.” It wasn’t cheating, at the very least you knew that. Everything had been carefully put, the sweater gone, this was just another gaslighting technique. He hadn’t caught the blue sweater that had been thrown under the seat. He was just making this up so you’d confess and say it was your fault. Exhale. It is your fault. Blinking quickly, trying to clear the clouds that seemed to surround you, diseased and causing you to hallucinate something that isn’t—couldn’t be true. You couldn’t be cheating on your boyfriend with Jeremy. Jeremy would have to like you first; he didn’t.

“I get it, I’m not good enough for you. But what really kills me is that I love you so much and I could’ve done the same thing with Chloe, but I didn’t.”

“I’m not cheating.” Your gut pulls away, vomit almost comes out. Every bone in your body is telling you to run, every single one has the urge, is tracing the steps, knows of the places you can go. Not the park, not Jeremy’s house, not Michael’s house. Putting them in danger would be too much for you—they’d already done so much…too much. No, this time you’d risk a motel or the 24 hour convenience store that was 15 minutes away with the barely lit parking lot because right now that was safer than the pale room and the light that almost seemed to give you a headache. Chills ran through you, fingers drumming onto the nearest surface that didn’t make noise; if they did, the assault would’ve started already. Or maybe not. That would be too nice, to put you out of your misery for once, not just waiting for something that you knew was inevitable. But then again, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe you’d be okay, just this once. Dismiss and move on, keep conversation going, you can do this, you can do this, you can do this.

“I doubt you ever really loved me.”

Another stab. Another thing that hurt without the physical punishment that at this point you wanted so that it could just be over with. So you could meet Jeremy if—fuck he didn’t leave already. Realization smacked you in the face. Everything that was said was true. No wonder you were hard to love. No wonder you spent hours panicking over one small mistake. No wonder all of your friends abandoned you because you stopped hanging out with them. You’re just as shitty as he says you are. So maybe you’re overreacting. Maybe things aren’t that bad. Maybe it’s you who’s crazy, and Jeremy’s just lying because he gets nervous. That, and you meant every word that came spewing from your mouth: “I do love you.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? You’re here making plans with Jeremy and leaving me all alone on our fucking date night.”

Stop stop stop shaking for once in your goddamn life. “We’re just friends.”

“Oh I’m sure just friends meet up in the middle of a park late at night.” He pauses, almost aware of how much that hurt, of the sting that came with it. Did friends do that? Did they really?! “Do you love me? Like genuinely?”

There’s another stop, this time your mind reeling, trying to find an excuse for this meet up other than the one you’d given, because he wasn’t buying that one obviously. You’re not sure how time is moving, to you, the world starting spinning exponentially faster, and yet, there’s part of you that’s calm. Acceptance. But the most of you wants to break down, screaming, trying to get away. That doesn’t matter. He’s waiting for a reason, taking in all the time you’re wasting, trying to come up with something. He’s already suspicious. It’s like this is just confirmation. But the very next thing, that needs to be said is that you do love him. An oath, a prayer, something to get you away for just half an hour, maybe more, and maybe safely this time. Your mouth opens, ready to react, but he beats you to the punch.

“All I’m saying is that I actually make time for you. All you do is work and hang out with Jeremy with his fucking sweater in your car, telling me you aren’t cheating and that you aren’t close with that lanky motherfucker. You can say he’s better than me. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend or anything.”

Nothing goes in, nothing comes out. Fingers have stopped drumming. Frozen, paralyzed, stuck in this sorry excuse for a moment, shaking still. Everything becomes blurry, almost black as the walls freeze over and chills come on now more than ever despite the usual New Jersey heat.

“Are you gonna fucking say anything?”

Fuck fuck fuck. Time ticks faster, unsure of what to do. He knows, oh fuck he knows. He saw the blue sweater, the way you hang out with him, the longing to just be gently touched and handled, to be treated like you matter, to be asked about consent, to be consistently cared for. Jeremy was just being a good friend, of course, but to you, those things meant the world. And now he knew. He knew.

“Whatever. I’m leaving.”

Fists clenched, he begins to walk out of the door, eyes blazing with something you’d only seen in private moments together, something that nobody else should see but you. And you knew exactly where he was going: straight to the lanky boy that gave you everything that he seemed to be lacking. You rip out of the trance, arms reaching out, grabbing him, desperately. Jeremy doesn’t deserve this, Jeremy is the only one who’s shown you respect in a way that you need it. It feels healthy, natural. He doesn’t deserve what you’d already seen. The only one who could ever deserve that was you. “Wait! We’re just friends! Nothing more! Why would I lie to you? Especially about this? I don’t love him. I love you!”

He’s almost out the door as he turns on his heel, walking back into a room with a stampeding footstep. Closer and closer, each moment he inches towards you is another flinch, getting bigger and bigger each time. Your face beings to ache as the agony of waiting for it burns itself into your memory, all hope is lost. You aren’t getting out of this alive.

He stops. Maybe you will. He seems to be calmer than before, breath evening out and his eyes have rage exit them. You lean forward, guard down to grab your stuff before you hit the ground, a familiar sting brought up onto your face. He steps back around, pacing. He knows it’s wrong, you both do. But it’s your fault, it’s your fault, it’s your—“Just friends?! After you defended that asshole?”

No thoughts come into your head, it’s just a reflex, try and get to the door, try and get to the door: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, we’re just friends, okay?”

“Whatever.” He steps away—maybe that’s it. Shock keeps you on the ground, slowly getting your bearings.

It doesn’t matter—he’s infinitely faster than you. Nothing is said as his hands wrap around you neck, similar to how they wrap around the controller when he’s frustrated. It’s a common assault, but with the air depleting, there’s no time for extra thoughts. You kick, trying, praying, that he’ll drop you soon. Black clouds the corners of your eyes, blissful sleep coming soon—maybe you won’t feel the fall onto the ground.

Your body crumples against the ground, gravity never gaining an inch of forgiveness. You’re sputtering and coughing, eyes tearing up, knowing how bad that scar is going to be later. Now everything is brighter, you aren’t more awake, but better prepared to leave. With a clumsy attempt to stand up, gripping his black leather chair, you attempt to grab your stuff again—even just the keys will do enough damage so you can leave. It’s almost upsetting how fast he is, pushing you back onto the ground, arm of the chair digging into your ribs and nearly knocking more wind out of you. The world fades from grey, everything feels wrong, there’s something wrong, get to the back doors, run.

There’s a second that you realize you’re on the ground, not upright, meaning you could at least prepare for what comes next. A swift kick to the back, and you can feel his foot hit your spine. The feeling of paralysis plagues your mind as more oxygen makes its way back up. Two more kicks, little bites, little moments of absolute pain. But it’ll be over soon. This is always the final blow, the grand finale for him; the final smash—you’re sure Jeremy would call it that.

Jeremy comes into mind, your guard being let down. It’s always easier during these moments to think of better times, better people, better situations. You can practically picture Ford’s Park, that he’s sitting there, nothing special, ready to point out the stars like Mae and Angus do in Night in the Woods. You’re sure that that’s what it was going to be.

But thinking of Jeremy was a mistake, your tension that was keeping you awake and alive now gone. Your body rolls with a particularly sharp kick, the next one hitting your ribs, causing more air to escape you. There’s isn’t much time, you know, you know, you know things are only going to get worse if you don’t run now, bruising you’re sure is already happening blossoming like infection, spreading and taking over; one kick, one punch, one grab, one death march is another, another, another, another.

Now is the time to escape, though. The moment can’t be planned better, you’re already on your stomach, making crawling away easy, and almost intentional. Maybe Jeremy would be your saving grace this time, maybe this would be okay. Maybe he would be the sole reason you lived to see another day. He wasn’t a scapegoat, he wasn’t what everyone said he was, he exactly what you needed, and holy fuck, so much more.

Everything moves in slow motion, the light on the wall, usually mounted, is spinning with the rest of the room, plaid curtains now reaching the perimeter of your vision, black finally fading as you attempt to not trip over his sisters things. The movement needs to be fast, milliseconds, even. You plan your route in your head, check your line, noting exactly where to go and what to do when you get out. Call Jeremy, go to a hotel, tell him to meet you there but check in at the front desk. You’ll be there as unlisted and pay for dinner or whatever the fuck else he wants. He is the one that got you out of this situation, of course.

You get two footsteps into that plan, the finishing touches still blurry as a hand grabs your wrist, already feeling the bruising tainting the flesh as you face his eyes one more time. Hazel strikes you—the last thing you see before he throws you against the wall. Something is yelled, but the world is spinning and your vision is blackening, the world becoming as black as it does when you kiss. The last thing that’s in your vision is the vent on the ceiling, so close to escape, so close to the plaid curtains, the double doors that lead out into the countryside. Even with the coyotes, it’s a much safer place than inside. Jeremy plagues your mind for a second, but the hazel eyes you’d just seen come back into view. It’s your fault. You don’t deserve him.

The very last thing you hear is a glass smashing against the wall, feeling small cuts graze your skin, threading the needle into darkness.

#Part 15 Supplement #200 Followers Reward

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mandaating · 6 years ago

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New Beginnings

written by @yeetyoteyoudabomb

steve rogers x reader

summary: reader is jilted, steve gets a second chance. you gotta read my dood lol.

characters: you, steve, tony, ex-fiance, Natasha, Wanda

word count: 1,971

notes: this is my first time doing anything like this!!!!!!! go easy on me, i had fun writing this tho and i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!

requests are open lol

I crumpled to the floor, right there in the middle of the common room. My hand was shaking, shaking so hard that my phone dropped to the ground. Tony looked over at the commotion, and suddenly, he was by my side.

“(Y/N)!” He wrapped me in a hug, trying to make me look at him and not the floor in front of me. I didn’t want to look at him, in fear that I would start to scream and cry and sob. “Come on, what’s the matter? Look at me. FRIDAY, do a scan.” He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. His brown eyes were concerned, eyebrows pulled low.

“Seratonin and oxytocin levels are quite low, sir. Otherwise, Ms. (Y/L) is fine.” FRIDAY announced, and Tony visibly relaxed. My vision blurred, and I felt tears streaking down my cheeks.

“You have to tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you and I feel terrible just watching you cry.” He whispered, pulling me into a tight hug. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I said it outloud for the first time.

“Max broke off our engagement, said that he found someone else.” All of that fighting against my sobs was no use. My body shook violently, and Tony just held me. He took a breath in to talk, but I involuntarily snorted. I pulled back a little bit, and Tony looked like he was trying very very hard not to laugh. Seeing his face set in such a serious expression made me laugh, and soon enough we were just laying on the floor laughing our asses off. Every time we made eye contact, it just made us laugh even harder. Right when it seemed like the giggles were leaving our systems, Steve walked in, and his expression of ultra confusion made us laugh even harder.

“Oh my God, Steve!” I clung to Tony and just pointed at poor Steve, who looked extremely concerned now. He walked over and knelt down so he was on our level.

“Are you okay?” His sincere words wiped the smile off of my face. I felt the tears on my cheeks again, and everything came crashing back down again. Tony recognized this, and he just looked at me with sad, sad eyes.

“Not really.” I stated, and my phone dinged. Another text. Probably containing more bad news. I picked it up, the newly cracked screen symbolizing exactly how I felt in that moment.

Can I have my ring back? It was expensive.

I felt tears prickling the back of my eyes, threatening to spill over. The diamond ring that so prettily decorated my finger meant nothing and was to be returned. Tony and Steve wrapped me in another hug. After a little bit, Tony pulled back and left me in Cap’s embrace. He gently pried the phone from my hands, and his scoff sent me into a fit of louder sobs. It got to the point where I couldn’t stand anymore, and Steve just scooped me up and brought me to my room.

“Do you want me to go, or - ” I pulled him down next to me and wrapped my arms around him. I felt him stiffen underneath my touch, but then soften.

“Please stay.” I begged, tears leaking out of my eyes. Who knew one could cry this much? He held me, and kissed my hair.

“I’ll stay as long as you need me to, doll.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How about this one? It’s sexy. All eyes on you.” Natasha shook the dress in front of me, and I cringed. It was red, backless, strapless, and dignity-less. We were having a party in honor of my becoming an official Avenger.

“I guess.” I shrugged, and Natasha tossed it at me. Before I could catch it though, it was encased in a red light and flung back at her. Wanda shoved a white, off the shoulder, curve-hugging dress at me instead.

“This one is more understated, but still sexy.” She argued, and Natasha waved her off.

“Back and no straps is the sexiest don’t even at me. And plus, (Y/N) has red pumps but not white ones.” Natasha raised an eyebrow at Wanda. She sighed. Wanda searched through my closet again, and fished out a dipped blue sundress, with a nipped in waist. Her face lit up, and she looked at me.

“We all know Steve would like her in this!” I blushed, and rushed forward to slap her.

“Wanda, shut up! You’re so loud!” They just giggled. It was a well-known fact among everyone in the team that after my breakup with Max, I had started to develop feelings for the super soldier. We spent our evenings together, trained together, teased each other, and commonly pranked each other. I snickered just thinking about the most recent prank, where I put red hair dye in his conditioner just to prove that he did use it. He had been vehemently denying that fact until I had -

“He clearly likes you back so it doesn’t even matter who hears.” I blushed, realizing that I had already started to daydream about him. Natasha said matter-of-factly, already digging through my shoes to see which ones matched the best. She turned around, waving a pair of blue ballerina flats around with flourish. Wanda nodded.

“He’s always talking about you.” She smiled, and I pulled the blue sundress over my head. I looked at them, not believing a word they said.

“It’s true, it seems like I am you based off of all of the things I know because of Steve.” Nat rolled her eyes. My heart was pounding. No, it wasn’t true. Think about the last time you fell in love. It wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.

“(Y/N), just because that douchebag Max jilted you doesn’t mean that you can’t try again with Steve. He’d never do that to you.” Wanda put her hand on mine.

“He’s too nice. If anything, you’d be the one to break his heart, not the other way around.” Nat rolled her eyes. “Now quit sitting around waiting for him to make a move. Let’s get downstairs.” We laughed. I laced up my Chucks and headed out the door side by side with Wanda and Nat.

The second we stepped into the party, it felt like everyone’s eyes were on us. The only person I could look at though was Steve. He looked stunning, which wasn’t fair, seeing that he was just wearing a blue plaid shirt and khakis. His hair was still slightly red from the hair dye, and I giggled just thinking about it. But before I could take my place by his side, Tony pulled me to him and shoved a shot into my hands.

“Congratulatory shots!” He tipped his into his mouth, and I followed suit. How could a party thrown by a Stark be anything other than fun and full of drinks? Steve caught my eye and winked. I made a silent promise with my wide smile to see him later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finishing my second drink of the night, I excused myself from the party and went out to the nearest balcony. It was getting way too hot in there. Tony must have turned up the heat or something, because my body really couldn’t handle it. As a way to cool down, I gathered some water out of the air using my powers, and played around with the sphere that formed. The night was particularly quiet. Yes, New York was the city that never sleeps, but there wasn’t as many sirens as there were normally. Meant no work for us. Although, sometimes, I wished that -

“Needed some quiet as well?” I whipped around and flung the water in my hands at the speaker. Poor Steve stood there, water drenching his head and shoulders, a light smile dusting his lips. I laughed at his expression.

“I’m so sorry!” I touched some of the water droplets on his face, willing them to become gas once again. He just smiled and batted my hands away, leaning against the railing. Turning towards me, he smirked. Goddammit, quit being so...I don’t know, pure? Hot? A wave of affection and love washed over me, filling me with warmness.

“I was actually looking forward to talking to you, but I can see the feeling isn’t exactly mutual.” He teased, and I slapped him.

“Well when you sneak up on me like that - ” He turned and pretended to leave, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Steve I was just kidding.” We smiled at each other, and suddenly realized together that I was still holding his bicep. Flustered, I let go and turned towards the streets below us, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how deeply I was blushing. It was silent for a couple of minutes.

“I know it’s a jerk move to bring up Max, but I just wanted to say that maybe it was for the better.” When I turned around to glare at him, he panicked and quickly backtracked. “(Y/N), I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it in a way that it gave me a chance with you again.” He scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. I just stared. A chance with me again? A chance? Oh, Steve. I wrapped my hands around his neck, forcing him to face me. He immediately pulled me closer to him, and I smiled. It was like an instinct. “I - (Y/N) - ”

I shushed him with a kiss. There was no hesitation when he started to kiss back, nothing unnatural about it. It was as if his lips were molded to fit against mine. These weren’t like the kisses that Max and I shared, not at all. Steve’s were patient, sweet, hopeful, everything I wished I had with Max. His tongue made its way into my mouth, and I let him. He pulled me closer, somehow, and I clung to him like I needed him to live.

“Finally! Damn, I thought I was going to have to lock you guys in a closet together!” Tony’s voice cut us apart quicker than he had appeared. When I looked over, he stood at the doorway, a confident smirk decorating his face. Steve groaned and pulled himself away from me, just a little bit more.

“Tony, can you mind your own business?” I was still somewhat breathless from our kiss, and all I could do was look back and forth between the two men. Tony noticed how flushed I was, and backed off. But not before snarking to the both of us, which deserved an eye roll.

“If you don’t take her to bed tonight I will!” And the doors slammed, ending our precious time with the great Tony Stark. The man tired me sometimes. I turned back to Steve, and his cheeks were bright red. Cupping his face, he turned to look at me, and I almost laughed at his expression.

“Steve, it’s alright. We’ll start with dinner tomorrow, take things slow.” He smiled, and kissed me again. I could get used to all of this kissing. He pulled away and looked me in the eye, his expression almost making me tear up. There was so much pure love and affection that I felt like the most special girl in the entire world. He smiled at me, a hopeful smile.

“Whatever you say. You’re the captain between us.” And I kissed him again, because for as long as we were together, I was going to look back on this night like it was the most perfect night ever. Which it was. How could anything not be perfect when Steve, the man of everyone’s dreams, was kissing me breathless, promising the start of a beautiful relationship?

#steve rogers #steve x reader #captain america #avengers #tony stark #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #x reader #avengers infinity war #avengers age of ultron #captain america x reader #iron man #captain america the first avenger #captain america the winter soldier #captain america civil war

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kaizokunohime · 6 years ago

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Twined Together

They both reflect on their capes. Clark may have a slight obsession. Bruce has a memory he can't forget. And they're both undeniably in love with each other.

Prompt 1: Capes. Some contemplation with a little plot thrown in I guess. This just had a mind of its own.

Posted on AO3

Written for: @superbatbigbang Day 1: capes

When he thinks about it, their capes are representative of the rest of their costumes and their roles on the battlefield. Batman’s cape is midnight black, perfect for blending into the shadows, its silky blackness smooths out his silhouette, and the curved edges actually do a decent impression of a bat whenever he swoops through the night. Meanwhile Superman’s cape is bright and bold, ideal for attracting attention, emphasizes the broadness of his shoulders, enhancing his presence, and its soft folds both protects him from harm and helps him cradle the injured.

And maybe it’s those differences and their symbolic nature, but Clark can’t help but appreciate the image of the capes together. Especially when they are twined together, like their lives have been since they first met. Sometimes, when fighting back to back in a fray, Kal can feel the silkiness of Batman’s cape against the back of his legs and can’t help but grin, knowing their capes are joined together once more.

He has to be careful at work because Lois has caught him admiring a picture of the two of them together one too many times and is now well known for his obsession with the two heros. That wasn’t exactly wrong concerning Batman (for obvious reasons, the man is incredible) but it was incredibly awkward being accused of being obsessed with his own alter ego. He’s not some kind of narcissist. He still couldn’t help pausing to admire pictures in the newspaper, but was careful to bring them home at the end of the day to observe them in greater detail.

Somehow, this didn’t stop the rumors and only lead to him collecting a scrapbook of images of them together. Now the only thing he can do is hope that Bruce never finds it, which is probably a lost cause against the World’s Greatest Detective. He’s going to get teased about this forever, isn’t he?

It would be worth it if it would finally make Bruce take his confessions seriously. Four confessions and he still thinks Clark is joking. Or using that as an excuse not to answer. Some might say to give up at this point, and be thankful it hadn’t negatively affected their friendship, but Clark knew Bruce. He will have to win him over with the same stubborn persistence it had taken to gain his friendship in the first place. Hopefully they would one day have the same intimate relationship as their capes did.

---

Batman never thought he’d be reduced to becoming emotional over a scrap of red cloth. That stupidly bright color was in direct contrast to his own and was almost absurdly eye-catching, like the bright-smiled hero who wears it. While his own was highly functional, helping him blend into the shadows, blocking against debris and smoke, obscuring his form, Superman’s cape seemed more decoration than anything else. The only thing it seemed to do, besides emphasising the breadth of his (impressive) shoulders, was block people from being able to see his (shapely) ass. Not that he had ever tried looking of course.

The only redeeming thing about it was its softness. Admittedly, he had never noticed that specific property until a certain incident a few years ago. He had miscalculated how long it would take to disarm a bomb and ended up being caught in the blast. The next thing he knew he was being cradled by incredibly soft, warm, and oddly familiar-looking red cloth. He quickly realized that he was being carried swiftly through the air by a pair of arms, held tightly against a muscular chest. The most overwhelming feeling besides the softness was the warmth of the person carrying him.

Luckily he quickly recovered from the shock of the explosion before he did something stupid, like nussle against the man he instinctively recognized as Superman. But the damage was done. Now he couldn’t look at that cape the same way again. He would find himself staring at it, wondering if is as soft and warm as he remembers. What it would be like to be tucked inside it once again, safe and warm, preferably in the arms of its owner.

Speaking of the Boyscout, there he was again, no doubt trying to wanting to talk with him alone. And judging by the expression on his face, Bruce was no doubt going to be confessed to for the sixth time. He had been sure that it would end soon if he didn’t acknowledge it. He would either realize he was mistaken or that it wasn’t worth it, trying to be in a relationship with him. Many had given up early even without the knowledge that he was Batman.

But here he was, many failed attempts later and now Bruce had no choice but to admit that he was both persistent and telling the truth. Kal-El, a Kansas-raised sweet-smiling alien superhero actually loved him. And maybe it was finally time to do something with that knowledge.

---

When they woke up the next morning and saw their capes twined together around them, they both knew they couldn’t be happier.

#Superbat #fanfiction #Superbatbang prompts #1: capes #SuperBatBang

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blasphoeme · 6 years ago

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I Love You More Than Ice Cream

Chap 4/? Ratings: M (for now~)

Chapter Summary:

It’s the day that we’ve all been waiting for! Let’s see how Jon and Dany go on their first date! Just a heads up, this is only PART ONE of two chapters that make up their date. This is just the first step.

As usual, this can be found on Ao3 along with the previous chapters :) Happy reading!!! XD

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3

The sun was setting as nightfall approached on a beautiful Sunday evening. The weather was getting warmer with spring gradually gaining momentum. The cherry blossom trees lining the streets were beginning to bloom, blinking open to show off their pale pink petals and stamen within. Hugging the white fur ball to her, nuzzling her nose into Ghost’s downy soft fur, Dany couldn’t suppress her smile. They had been walking for about ten minutes now, quiet but companionably comfortable ten minutes. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. “So… Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Earlier, Jon, a nervous ball of a man he was with his furry companion tucked in the crook of his arm, finally mastered up his courage to ring the doorbell after a good fifteen minutes of pacing. This was the moment he’d been waiting for since the day he laid eyes on the owner of this wonderful place. So absorbed in his head, going over the details, making sure he had everything down for their date, he didn’t even notice Dany swinging open the front door until the sensation of his very excited puppy’s tail went smack, smack, smack against his torso like a whip drew his attention to the lady before him. Ghost’s little limbs flailed happily as his new favourite person came into view. Jon on the other hand, found himself once again, standing at her doorstep with his mouth agape. If this happened every time he looked at this woman, his heart would sure to explode one day. Looking at her, just like always, had his breath stuttering about and his mind momentarily short circuiting, forgetting all knowledge of sensibility as all thoughts vacated his head leaving behind only one which was how lovely she looked. Curls that shimmered interchangeably between silver and gold flowed freely past her shoulders and tumbled down her back. Around her head, two braids lay intertwined, reminiscent of a crown. The ends swished, grazing the small of her back as she joined him on the porch, donning a dark blue woollen cardigan that reached her mid thigh over a simple cream coloured blouse tucked into a pastel pink skirt that ended just above her knees. Her ensemble was complete with a pair of black legging and white sneakers. Realizing that he was gawking, Jon finally lifted his eyes up to meet Dany’s purple ones. “Hello again.” The apples of her cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of pink. Dany echoed his greeting with a demure, breathless ‘hello’ of her own.

“Since you didn’t specify what we’d be doing tonight, I just well… dressed for comfort. I hope what I have on isn’t too casual.”

“No.” Taking a breath, willing his heart to return from its marathon, he couldn’t resist giving her a once over again. “This is perfect. You look lovely today. Not that you don’t already look beautiful to begin with…”

The two of them stood grinning at each other like two love struck fools, both of them nervous and thrilled to be in each other’s company once more. “Thanks.” The blush upon her cheeks flamed a little more. Leaning against the door behind her with the door jab digging into her back, Dany sighed, feeling utterly relieved knowing that her efforts to look pretty since this morning right into the afternoon was paying off.

Allowing herself to take in Jon’s appearance for the first time that day, she wondered to if it was too soon to say she was falling for this man? How could someone look even more appealing to the eye with just a simple change of clothing? His hair was still its gorgeously tousled mop of curls. Those dreamy deep brown eyes were still just as soulful as the week before and his face was just as handsome as the very first moment she glimpsed his visage over her ice cream freezer. His body on the other hand? Biting back an appreciative moan, Dany’s bottom lip slipped between her teeth as her eyes hovered over his torso. Who knew under his usual baggy hoodies hid a figure so fine. Under his white washed fur lined denim jacket, oh how that checked buttoned down shirt of his clung to his body like a glove. The barest hint of sculpted pecs contoured by cotton fabric peeked at her from the confines of his shirt. Her fingers longed to caress his body. What would it feel like be all pressed up against him? How would his muscles feel under her fingers? And lastly, those dark jeans of his, she had no doubt, defined his very supple ass. She wanted to swoon so badly. “You look really handsome today too.” Fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, Jon mumbled a quiet thanks, a flush blazing up his neck. How bizarre an experience being in love was? Was it too early to say he loved this stunning woman? To him it was as if time stopped just for a while and there was nothing else in the entire world but the two of them, every time she was near. There was nothing in the world except her and him. Having not seen her for just a week felt like decades. He’d missed her so much. Her smile, her eyes, her face, everything. He wondered if Dany felt that too.

“Oh, and umm... These are for you.” Pulling his hand from behind his back to the front, Jon showed her what he brought. It was a tiny bouquet of multi-coloured daisies held together with a dainty pink bow that just so happened to match the hue of her skirt. He presented them to her like a proud little boy showing his crush the gift he made for her. In a way, that was actually quite a fitting description for how he felt in that moment, hoping that Dany would like his present. “They’re so pretty, Jon! Thank you.” Reaching for the flowers, Dany took it from him and brought it up to her nose. They smelt like spring, like a green grassy meadow and new beginnings. First checkpoint safely crossed. Freshly picked flowers really were a nice touch. Jon sent a silent thanks to his younger cousin, Sansa and her tips for how to make a good impression on a first date.

The flowers in her hands were the best gift she’d received from a man in such a long while. These flowers were symbolic of what Jon was to her. After years upon years of standing on her own, perhaps this could be a new beginning for her. For the chance to flirt, to be wooed, to go on dates, to miss someone when they were not around. It had been ages since she last felt the agonizing clenching of her heart at craving for someone, waiting for a new day to come, in hopes of seeing them again. How was it possible to miss someone so much when you barely even knew them? So little was exchanged between the two of them and yet that little bit had been everything. She wanted more than just a little bit, she wanted everything. All the moments, tender and sweet, she longed to share them all with the man before her, that much she knew for sure. Peering up at the man before her from behind the blossoms, she confessed quietly: “I’ve missed you.”

Chocolate eyes widened at her words. Jon swore that the thumping organ within the embrace of his ribs swelled to twice its size at the revelation. She’d been thinking about him. She missed him! “I’ve missed you too, Dany. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.” Shaking her head slightly, she dismissed his apologetic thoughts. “I know you were busy.” Toying with the ribbon encircling the stems of her flowers, she added with a giggle of anticipation, “Planning our date, I hope?” “I really hope you’ll like what I have planned for you. I can’t take all the credit for it though because I had help.” A nervous chuckle became lodged at the back of his throat. A lot of help. Tucking the flowers into her left coat pocket by her hip, Dany told him with the utmost confidence: “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it. It’s the thought that counts. All that matters is that we get to spend time together.”

Jon’s raven ringlets, which Dany’s fingers desired very much to push away from his left eye,swayed as he shook his head resolutely. He wasn’t going to tell her anything till they got there.

“I doubt you’d surprise me all that much. I grew up here so I know this place pretty well. You’d have to be very sneaky to find somewhere I’ve never been to.” Dany stated as a matter of factly. She didn’t like surprises much and to give her one on their first date was quite bold of him. She had to give him that. “Hmm... yes you did grow up here. But, I know for a fact that you’ve been away for years since college, so I think you shouldn’t underestimate me.” The wink he gave her had butterflies taking flight in her belly again. Gosh, this man was really quite something. Sucking in a shallow breath, her mind couldn’t help wonder how he could remain so calm around her when her body and mind were running wild all over the place just being next to him. What sort of affect did she have on him? Missandei had reassured her repeatedly, pushing down her paranoia, that all she had to do was be herself and everything would be just fine. Jon liked her for who she was after all. Did she need to do something else to charm him?

Stepping into his path, effectively blocking his way, she angled her head up to meet his eyes straight on, Dany decided to do something bold. Tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, batting her eyelashes coquettishly up at him, she formed her words with just the right amount of flirtatiousness and prayed she wasn’t too rusty at this game.“Oh yeah? You sound awfully confident of yourself, Jon Snow.”

With her face so close to his, his vision was filled with her. There was only about a few inches between their bodies with only Ghost keeping them apart. Things would appear to have escalated quite quickly. Jon’s breathing met an involuntary stutter. However, if he were to waste this sudden development, the chance to catalogue every minute detail that composed Dany’s stunning, almost angelic face, he'd be a very foolish fellow. Pushing his nervousness back down with an audible gulp, he began his exploration. First stop on his journey, her incandescent purple eyes that glittered like amethyst crystals under the sun, shining with mischievous glee and a hint of excitement dancing within. Gods, she was captivating. Standing very still before him, Dany observed in delight as his eyes began to roam. Watching him watch her, she tried not to squirm under his scrutiny. Cocoa brown eyes drifted down and lingered on her lips within the clutches of her teeth. The pulse under her skin was thrumming away. He was a little bit too close but she was beginning to love the intimacy. Under the setting sun, his pupils seemed to dilate, turning a darker shade of brown as he took her in. Her heart did a little summersault. He desired her! Not letting her glee and sudden bout of excitement that surged through her show, curbing the need to squeal, she stood her ground and allowed his eyes to graze over her like a loving phantom touch. Down his eyes went, over her button nose, over the freckles dusting her cheeks and finally at her lips they loitered. Having her so close to, his body fought the urge to lean in and have a taste of those, plump, petal like lips, to nibble on them for himself and just kiss the life out of her. Unfortunately, his brain told him it was still too soon. This was only their first date for crying out loud. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Jon cleared his throat feeling a little embarrassed now. His eyes darted regrettably to the side, away from her face. Would she think he was too brazen for wanting to kiss her? No, no, quit doubting yourself, Jon. Fists clenched, he wrenched his eyes back to meet her eyes again. A perfectly sculpted brow quirked up at him, posing a silent challenge. A smirk, almost smug perched itself upon her lips, now free from the grasp of her teeth. His heart supplied him with a sudden thought. Was this in fact a challenge to see who would give in first and kiss the other? If that were the case, he had no doubt he’d lose first. Gladly. A sudden breeze had a flurry of cherry blossom petals swirling through the air, picking up Dany’s silver locks on its way and into her face. Spell broken, the two of them were overcome with a fit of silly giggles. On the sidewalk, under the shade of a cherry blossom tree, eyes locked with one another with lingering smiles on their lips, their hearts sang a tune of happiness. “Come on then, let’s keep walking.” With a struck of bravery, though her voice sounded small, Dany hooked her little finger around Jon’s and gave his arm a tug. His skin under her finger felt pleasingly warm. “But you don’t even know where we’re going.” Laughing, Jon reminded her. His senses hyper aware of the point where Dany’s pinkie was hooked around his. His heart danced at her touch. A rush of endorphins coursed through his blood, bumping a blush up to his cheeks as a loony grin took up residence on his face. Skipping ahead of him, she began pulling him along with her down the street. “Well then, quit dawdling and lead the way!” Hearts racing, cheeks rosy and grins so wide their faces were starting to ache, everything was just as it should be.

“This is where our date will be?” Looking up at the bright pink flashing neon sign that read ‘Lone Wolf Diner’, Dany chuckled. “I don’t mind Mister Stark’s food, in fact I love his cooking but...” Cocking her head, she regarded the familiar diner that she knew like the back of her hand. With its little wooden creaky swing set sitting on the front porch, its red and white sign hanging just inside the front door window was still flipped to open to cater for the dinner crowd. “This is a bit anticlimactic.” Holding up his hands, palms up to her in a placating manner, Jon nodded. “I know, I know. You grew up with this place, but this isn’t quite where our destination is. Give me a chance before you dismiss me?” Offering her his hand, flexing his fingers, he urged her to follow him. His dark orbs adopted a sparkle that told her he had something else up his sleeve. “All right.” Taking it eagerly, she went with him. His larger hand engulfed her smaller one, causing her to feel just a tad bit giddy. Giddy like that buzzing feeling in her veins rising to her head that came with one scoop too many of that champagne infused sorbet she used to have sometimes. Trailing after him like a floating helium filled balloon on a string, they ducked into the alley beside the diner. Dodging pass the odd metal trash can, they stopped at the steps of a fire escape. Pointing upwards with a finger, still keeping her hand held in his, unwillingly to let her go, Jon informed her: “Your surprise is just up these stairs.” Dany’s slender fingers enclosed within his, felt so soft, vulnerably dainty and slightly cold. An acute sense of protectiveness washed over him. Wanting to chase away the chill from her skin, he adjusted his grip around her hand to hold it more firmly. Up they went, hand in hand, ascending the stairs to the roof of the diner. Clanging noises echoed through the alley as their feet met each step. When they reached to top, pushing open the metal gate, he indicated for his date to proceed ahead before him.

Stepping clear of the gate with her breath in her throat, she definitely did not see this coming. She had no words besides: “Oh....”.

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