#thankfully nothing of harm came to them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

morganitering · 10 months ago

Text

Because I'm the Weakest II: The Women Who Never Won

Pairings/character dynamics: Satosugu, Shoko and reader, Nanami and reader, implied shoko x utahime

Contains and warnings: DARK FIC/DEAD DOVE fem!reader, Suicidal ideation, rape aftermath, referenced rape (not written out in this chap), depression, alcohol abuse, misogyny & sexism, internalized sexism, sexual harassment on minors done by minors, victim blaming (thoughts), self harm, angst, hurt & comfort, I call noncon with the official word for it

Word count: ~9,6k

Summary: There's certain desperation when you try to keep your head above water. You were drowning and all you wanted to do was to forget, the weight on your shoulders unbearable. Despite the cards you were dealt with you found yourself among allies as the web of untold memories started to unfold.

A/N: Hey! Yall waited long for this, sorry about that. I have no idea how to tag this but I'll just do it somehow, bc this is a tricky chapter. Here yall get to dive deeper in the stuff that has gone down before the events that took place in 1st chap and get a hug from Shoko. This is hopefully the last installment of this. Read the tags carefully as always and make informed decisions based on that and take care of yourself. Shit can get heavy, but I'm trying to do this in good taste.

Read on ao3 part I

Shoko Ieiri had worked a long time with people who suffered. She had seen it all, limbs cut off, even the toughest of sorcerers reduced to crying messes as they practically had their innards falling to the floor. There’s something utterly horrifying watching a patient, no – a friend scream in pain when even her skills were not enough. Funerals came and went, the white sheet thrown over the deceased on the operation table in the same routine way she’d change her linens. Nothing really shocked her.

That’s what she liked to think.

Your visits have been more frequent. It started with bruises and sprained ankles. Then it was broken bones that soon turned to puncture wounds, your clothes sticky with deep red and dirt. When she asked about it, you laughed it off saying it’s nothing, just a silly little mishap, “I was too reckless in the heat of the moment.” But your eyes were empty, your words hollow like a dead tree. Of course Shoko did her job, without asking too much. You’re an adult and you’ll speak about it if you want to, right? Her job was to keep you alive. Your job was to exorcise curses.

Shoko and you had been close too, hanging out with the two men, but at some point in high school she had withdrawn from the group. Gojo and Geto had tried to keep in touch with her in adulthood, inviting her as well to spend time together as the four of them, but she had always declined, smoothly changing their relationship to acquaintances at best. She heard enough of the despicable men from you. The only times she was in direct contact with Gojo and Geto was work related and god how she hoped that it would stay that way. She’ll play that pretend game almost happily.

Shoko closed the office door the day turning to evening, sundown coloring the city in hues of orange and yellow. She held onto her little black purse, thankfully it was friday. A man stood on the long corridor, standing upright as if he did not belong here. He looked indifferent, almost bored.

“Nanami.”

“Ieiri.”

They greeted each other with a curt nod.

“So what brings you here? You seem healthy enough,” Shoko asked as they walked to the open parking lot, only a few cars in sight. The warm summer sun caressed her cheeks, wind making her long hair flow in waves.

“I think she’s going through something,” Nanami stated as a matter of fact talking about you. He and you had gone on missions together, but something about you wasn’t right. He had seen the way you clutch your weapon, throw yourself at the enemy recklessly almost as if you had a death wish. It’s like you waited for your end.

“No shit.” Shoko chuckled amused. It was as clear as a day if you just had eyes on yourself. “Why do you care?”

“I’ve seen enough people spiral to know where it leads. You’re a healer, can’t you help?” His voice was thoughtful, not betraying a hint of emotions.

“I can’t help a person who doesn’t want it,” Shoko said. “But I’ll try to figure something out.”

“And that is enough. Thank you.”

***

You hated meetings and rarely took part in them if you could avoid them. You had not met Gojo or Geto after the unfortunate night. If there were some work related things where there was a possibility to meet either of the men, you requested to be part of them remotely or that someone would just forward the key points. But after doing this for a few months Yaga had sent you a passive-aggressive email writing that it is absolutely mandatory for you to show yourself at least once in a while. You didn’t bother to answer him with anything other than a polite see you there.

Honestly you were tired. Your whole body ached in overexertion. Sleep escaped from you, ran a marathon around the block never stopping at your house, and every time you seemed to catch a break, hazy images you rather forbid being real filled your vision. Your eyebags told a story of exhaustion, your body shrinking in every possible way away. You went to see a doctor, not Shoko, just some normal practitioner from the private sector that you ended up paying yourself sick for.

The doctor gave you pills to help you with sleep. He asked you if you were stressed or going through some sorts of crisis. You answered with a diligent no and explained that you’ve always had issues with sleep, but you were otherwise okay. He looked at you, raising his eyebrow in suspicion, the glasses on his head hung on his nose by a thread. He decided to believe you as he wrote the prescription, but insisted you took home pamphlets about depression and crisis hotlines.

You tried the pills. You did fall asleep, but only after a panic attack wrecked through your body as the effect of the medication forced you into a deep slumber. The pills made you feel your pulse in your whole body. “It’s a quite strong product, previously used to treat psychosis, but nowadays it’s for patients with severe insomnia. Take it one hour before sleep. The effect might be really sudden.”

When you woke up you decided to throw them away. It’s better to not to sleep if it meant that you’d go free from the horrors of the night you had experienced.

The huge meeting table sprawled out horizontally and was able to sit around fifteen people in it. It had several small electric outlets for computers and tablets. Light poured in from the big windows, the blinds only halfway done. You stared at the weird scribbling on the white board that Principal Yaga was wiping furiously, muttering things about how students shouldn’t be let in this room under any circumstance since they can’t differentiate which markers are okay to use on it.

You exchanged pleasantries with him. The room was devoid of people since you were too early. You swung your leather bag on the back of the upholstered office chair and sat yourself down.

Shoko walked in and her face lit up a little bit when she saw you sitting there. It was subtle, you thought that you were maybe the only one who could differentiate that expression from her. She sat next to you, a faint hint of neroli wrapping you to its calming aroma.

Next came Meimei and then Utahime who came running to you two giving a happy hug to Shoko. They were so cute together, you thought to yourself as you fidgeted with your slightly too big shoes, constantly removing them and pushing them back to your feet. People don’t usually like small talk, but nonetheless the group chatted with each other. They had to, because it’s polite and you were coworkers. You thought that small talk was easy. The script of it was burnt to your brains for the rest of your life. You get to keep people at an arm's length and keep up appearances, so what’s there not to like?

A familiar blonde man stood in the doorway. You checked your phone for the time. Only five minutes before the official start. Yuki also appeared after Nanami.

“Hello,” he said and nodded at you as he sat himself next to you. Your whole body stiffened around him. It was hard to look him in the eyes and even harder to work missions with.

It was ten minutes past the official time when the meeting was supposed to start.

“Sorry we are late.” Two men marched in the room with confident strides and took their place in front of you facing you, that was sitting in between Nanami and Shoko, Utahime next to the doctor. Suguru sat down next to Yuki leaving a space for Satoru who had Meimei next to him.

Hearing Suguru’s voice made your skin crawl.

“It’s fine,” Yaga said and looked over his shoulder to look at the white screen he had pulled down earlier with only a blue screen reflecting on the fabric. “I can’t seem to get this work anyway,” he mumbled.

“Do you need help?” Suguru walked over to the man struggling over his laptop. “Have you checked the HDMI-cable?”

“Of course I have, I just don’t understand why it won't work. We have Ijichi remote today,” he muttered partially to himself.

“Let me.”

You sat fidgeting on your chair focusing on everything else than the two men and their presence that suffocated you. If you were a candle they’d be snuffing you out but not properly, no, that would be too kind. They’d always let enough air in so that you’d never be completely put out.

“Hello to you girls.. and Nanami,” Satoru flashed a playful grin at the four of you. Your head jerked involuntarily to look at the man. Thank god he has a habit of covering his eyes, but somehow that made him even worse.

“Hello. How are you?” Nanami nodded politely.

“I’m well. Hopefully the work isn’t stressing you out too much.” Satoru’s smile widened.

“Speaking of work, I’ve heard that you and her have started doing missions together,” Satoru nudged his head towards you as he spoke directly to Nanami. “I actually green lighted the idea of sorcerers working more together. It’s good to practice teamwork and I put in good words for the two of you, since you compliment each other with the techniques you have. ” Satoru moved his head to look your way as he drew out his words in a way that you’d be sure to catch the dual meaning.

The wall flashed a few times showing the computer screen and it’s default wallpaper for only a moment and after that went back to blue.

“An idea that I actually can get behind,” Nanami said agreeably.

Your eye twitched.

“Really? That was your doing?” You barely hid the anger of your voice. One more push and you’d pour your life savings on an amoral hitman, not that you’d believe that anyone could finish him off. It was a thought just for you so you could at least think about being mean in your own petty way.

“Not a fan of working in groups of two? How about in groups of three?”

“You fucking piece of-”

“Okay I think it’s working now,” Yaga put his hands together straightening himself properly. Suguru walked over to Satoru, slightly shaking his head before he sat down. You heard Utahime’s quiet “okayy..” whispered in the awkward silence.

“Unfortunately principal Gakuganji wasn’t able to make it today, he’s sick or something.”

You heard Gojo scoff audibly.

“Try to respect him.” Yaga shot a glare in the young teacher’s way.

“Ijichi and Nitta have gathered data about the hotspots of cursed activity,” he continued and opened up the window to teams only to be greeted by a tired looking black haired man in a suit. The background behind him was red, it looked like some type of wallpaper and small paintings covered the walls. You reckoned it was a hotel room. Or a motel, you really could not tell.

“Ijichi, do you hear me? Would you like to take over?” Yaga’s voice boomed louder as if he wasn’t already near his computer.

The grainy picture of the tired man smiling uncomfortably stayed still a little too long to be taken as a real time reaction to Yaga’s question.

“I hear you. Sorry, the connection here is a bit bad.” Ijichi’s voice echoed in the office room. The picture of a slideshow appeared on the wall, making Ijichi’s face smaller.

The map of Tokyo loomed on the wall as everyone stared at it intensely, more or less dozing off. Some parts of it had big red circles on them and Ijichi explained the way these places were having exceptionally heavy activity. He reckoned that partially the rise in activity tied to the sorcerers working more missions together leaving less people available. Ijichi also showed statistics comparing the effectiveness of sorcerers based in Tokyo and Kyoto.

You were about to lose your mind, your body still pumping adrenaline after the conversation with Gojo. Everyone else seemed to be bored, oblivious to your struggle. Satoru had yawned at least three times in the last ten minutes, Shoko and Utahime were both interested in their nails. Even Suguru looked tired and he was pretty good at hiding his thoughts. The only ones who did not look outwardly dead inside were Yaga and Nanami.

“Thank you Ijichi for your hard work,” Yaga said and Ijichi nodded smiling. The pop up of the slideshow vanished from the screen leaving Ijichi’s face in a huge resolution looming onto the wall.

“We are going to take in account the effects of pairing up sorcerers. I’m not entirely in charge of how long this trial will take,” Yaga said. “Ieiri has this trial affected the health care aspect in any way?”

Shoko cleared her throat tapping open the ipad in front of her, her nails making a satisfying click click sound.

“The injuries have lessened,” she started. That’s good, you thought. “But the severity has increased,” she said with a serious face.

“Why is that?” Principal scrunched his eyebrows together.

“In my professional opinion it is due to people being more brazen when having a partner. This can be seen especially in lower grade sorcerers, who are prone to believing that they are invincible when someone backs them up.” Everyone had turned to look at the doctor who played with her hair idly as she spoke.

“And the second grade and up?”

“It happens less. But there are some, even first grade sorcerers, who are accident prone,” Shoko said and quickly looked at you, not long enough for others to pick up on that she was speaking about you.

Gojo’s phone rang in the middle of the conference. He left the room with an apology and never came back. Relief and anger ignited in you playing tug of war in your heart as your eyes followed him bitterly.

“I think this is all. I’ll send everyone the upcoming jobs, but if no one has anything to say, I think we can conclude this meeting here,” Yaga said, the choir of thank yous and goodbyes filling the room.

You stretched yourself, happy to be on your feet again.

“Hey, can we talk?” Nanami tried to get your attention.

You stood in the room that was quickly emptying out of people. Shoko awkwardly hung around in a small distance from you and Nanami, trying to pretend that she wasn’t listening to your conversation.

“I don’t entirely understand the conversation between you and Gojo, but if I have somehow disrespected you I offer my deepest apologies.” Nanami’s voice was soft. Your heart ached as you realized how bad your words must have appeared to him.

“I’m so sorry. It’s not about you. You’ve done nothing..” You trailed off as you saw the tall curse eating man walk outside with a sly smile on his lips.

“That’s a relief but if I may be so blunt, I have a hunch that there is something bothering you,” Nanami said.

You looked at him and chewed your lower lip nervously. This was all their fault. If they had not done what they did, you would not be in this position. The least they could have done is to keep the names of people you know out of their mouths.

“I’m sorry to leave you hanging like this, but can we finish this conversation later?” You hurried past him, only hearing Nanami mumble the word ‘sure’ like a kicked puppy and you said goodbye to Shoko agreeing on staying in touch with her.

The corridor was almost empty as you walked through the school building frantically searching for that bastard of a man. Your footsteps echoed on the wood as you arrived at a not so well known exit of the building. Geto stood in front of the dual doors, half heartedly pushing it open as he furiously wrote something on his phone.

You yelled out his name, but he did not bother to react to you. You closed in on the man that was still standing back towards you. Anger surged in you as adrenaline made you braver than what you normally would be. You were supposed to just grab the ends of his hair that were sprawled across his back, but in the heat of the moment your impulse control had another lapse as you kept on raising your hand. A fist closed around the bun that had been carefully crafted on his scalp and you dug your fingers around the hair tie and then yanked, hard.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He turned around stepping out of the doorway letting it close properly with a thump and he closed the distance between you for good. His eyes shot daggers at you.

“You did not pay attention to me.” You shook your hand out of the spare strands that were stuck on your palm and offered the small hair tie back to him.

“Well you got it now,” he hissed. “You can keep that as a souvenir. I don’t want anything that a filthy bitch like you has touched,” he said, the calm composure nowhere in sight.

A filthy bitch? Really? Then maybe you should break up with Satoru if this is your deal breaker.. That’s what you wanted to say, but you held back your tongue.

Geto took a deep breath, calming himself down, slipping on the mask that you were more used to seeing. He put his phone back in his pocket.

“What do you want?”

“You told me,” you started, tears threatening to flow over. “You told me that I can just leave and do whatever I want. Why do you keep tormenting me? Why do you let Gojo do what he does?” Your voice broke as you started crying openly. You hated it, it made you weak. No. You were weak.

“Firstly, I’m not his guardian. He can do what he wants.” He sounded like a smartass.

“Second of all, never. And I repeat. Never, lay a hand on me ever again, especially on my hair.” You rolled your eyes.

Of course it was the hair that ticked him off completely. It was his crown, the only thing he had ever been able to take care of besides Satoru. Suguru loved to flaunt himself as the calm one, the kind one, but the exterior had always had some cracks in it. No amount of paint was able to hide the rotten wall behind it.

“I can forgive your outburst at Satoru’s, but now that you’re in your right mind, you won’t get second chances.”

“I don’t want ‘second chances’. I want you to leave me the fuck alone so I can do my job,” you yelled at him.

“Lower your voice. Or do you want to air out all the dirty laundry for everyone?” Geto hushed you.

“It’s not my ‘laundry’, it’s fucking yours!” You roared and tears fell down your cheeks blurring your vision. Your face felt hot as it got wrapped in the wrath of your words.

Geto did not answer you, instead he chose to stare you down, not moving at all as if he was a statue. He looked like a child throwing a tantrum when things did not go his way, his face contorting to a sneer that could challenge any rich spoiled brat. You panted and wiped your face with the rough backside of your palm.

“Move.”

“Ladies first,” he snickered childishly and kicked open the heavy door with his foot as he stepped slightly to the side. God this man hangs out too much with Gojo.

As you left the school grounds barely holding your breakdown away, there was one figure in the corridors hugging the wall near the exit, clutching onto her purse.

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, 2006

“Truth or dare?” Satoru asked, popping the pink bubblegum in the air, sucking the sticky material back in his mouth to chew on loudly.

“Truth,” Shoko said, placing another cigarette in her mouth. She smoked especially heavily when she was drinking.

Satoru had managed to bring a whole six pack of beer to the picnic whereas Suguru had found a travel size vodka bottle from his parents. Shoko had brought a package of different berries and salty crackers with her.

“If you could have any technique in the world, which one would you have?” Satoru asked. He looked at the clear blue sky and the way the summer breeze pushed on the white clouds.

Shoko played with the corner of the blanket as she thought deeply about his question. She stared at the shoes she had placed on the grass and the manicure on her toes that Utahime had insisted on putting on her.

“I think I’d keep this one,” she smiled wistfully.

“Really? You wouldn’t want my powers?” Satoru looked at her tilting his head to the side. He spat out the chewing gum and placed it on the plastic lid that belonged to the packaging of berries. He did not like it when things ran out of flavor, always searching for something more.

“No. I don’t envy you at all. I just want a happy life and that’s all” Shoko answered his gaze, with a gentle smile. “Besides, I like the way I am and I suppose I can help people like this,” she added.

Satoru hummed. He was clearly dissatisfied with the answer.

He did not exactly know why.

“Satoru, that's sad. You should ask something fun,” Suguru pointed out and took a sip from the beer can.

The three of them sat on a grassy hill that had a pretty decent view of the city and the park below it. Shoko leaned against the huge tree behind her back. The cicadas were performing their own concert with the hum of motorways working as their orchestra.

“You figure out better questions then,” Satoru pouted, but wasn’t actually hurt.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask though?”

Shoko looked in the distance watching closely how a woman jogged with her shiba inu, her ponytail swishing in the same rhythm as the chord of her headphones. Both men nodded slightly out of sync.

“Satoru truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Who’s the hottest person you know?” Her eyes twinkled teasingly.

“Waka Inoue of course. She’s sexy as hell!” Satoru slapped his hand on his heart as if he was saluting.

“Really? You still have a crush on her?” Suguru questioned. It was his turn to pout. “Am I not enough?”

“Baby you’re plenty, but you can’t replace a huge rack,” Satoru’s voice was steady as if he was talking about the most important thing in the whole world.

“I can’t argue with that.” Suguru sighed defeatedly, his shoulders slumping down dramatically.

“Ugh. I shouldn’t have asked that. Both of you are so weird and gross about women,” Shoko grimaced regretting her decisions and lifted the cigarette to her mouth as if to cover the bad taste of Satoru’s words.

The man in sunglasses ignored the criticizing words. “Suguru. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to share this,” Satoru lifted up a huge strawberry. “Like in Lady and the Tramp with Shoko,” he referred to the scene where the two dogs shared a spaghetti meal, eventually kissing.

“That’s too small!” Shoko protested immediately, shaking her head. The idea of doing that with Suguru made her feel iffy.

“I’m game if she is,” Suguru said and offered his palm to Satoru who plopped the berry in his hands.

Shoko had a nervous giggle come out of her.

“C’mon, it’s just a game. You can always let go after like one bite. This is truth or dare afterall,” Satoru coaxed.

“Fine. But I won’t kiss you, not even a peck.” Shoko established her own rule and rolled her eyes. She put out the cigarette on the grass and left the butt there.

“We’ll see about that,” Suguru laughed and picked at the stem that got thrown over next to the chewed up gum.

He awkwardly came closer to the young female student and placed the bigger end between his lips. He looked silly, the red end peeking out of his mouth. Suguru attempted at mouthing the words ‘come closer’, but neither Satoru or Shoko understood his words but the context clue carried the point to Shoko.

She got on her knees sitting on top of her legs and straightened herself out. Suguru was way taller than her, even when he sat. Her face approached Suguru’s who had a pink tint on his cheeks from the alcohol he had drank.

She opened her mouth and barely bit down on the smaller end, her tongue touching the bumpy texture of the strawberry.

“Ready. Set. Go!” Satoru exclaimed, motioning finger guns happily. His gaze was completely glued on his two friends.

Suguru closed his eyes and he started to carefully nibble, closing dangerously on Shoko’s lips. She bit quickly, not really tasting anything and began to pull away in hopes of Suguru calling it quits too.

Unfortunately she wasn’t fast enough. The last bits of strawberry fell down on Shoko’s lap when Suguru pressed his lips against hers, a faint red trail dripping on her chin. She didn’t move and her eyes widened in shock. Shoko didn’t know what to do so she just held her hands on her lap.

Suguru pet gently behind the girl’s head kissing her motionless lips. His hand trailed down to her neck and all the way to her shoulder. Shoko felt the sweet taste in her mouth mixing with the alcohol, stranger’s saliva and nicotine as Suguru dragged his hand to the mound of her breast. The warmth emanating from his palm was enough to bring her back to reality and Shoko pushed the bigger guy off of her.

“Why did you do that?” she snapped and crossed her arms.

“Oh don’t get angry now. Have a drink and chill out.” Satoru sighed. He shuffled awkwardly and placed the almost empty tote bag on his lap and grabbed a new beer can from there. Shoko narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but did not want to make room for any weird thoughts that would imply even weirder things. “It’s just a joke.”

“This is not the first time you take jokes too far.”

Shoko looked away from the two boys, disappointment turning into an ache in her heart and wiped her chin clean from the strawberry. She slipped on the ballerinas laying on the ground.

“Seriously? You’re leaving because of this?” Suguru tilted his head, his voice defensive.

Shoko threw her cigarettes and lighter in her own purse checking the blanket for other stuff she had.

“Yeah, I am. I’m not having fun anymore.” Her voice was cold as she was attempting to hide the nervous tremble in her body and almost jumped up throwing the bag on her shoulder. She turned around, once again crossing her hands against her chest as if to protect herself and started walking.

“Hey! Don’t you want your blanket with you?” Satoru yelled after her. The two guys sat on the quilt completely bamboozled.

“Keep it! I don’t need it!”

She didn’t eat strawberries for the rest of the summer.

***

“Hey you really should sing this one!” Shoko laughed as she scrolled through the song list.

“Whaat? No that’s not even funny,” you laughed and slapped her arm gently.

“Is it really not? Or are you just a bore?” Shoko taunted getting ready to put the song on.

“Can we sing something from this?” You pointed at the category called 2000’s hits.

“I’ll pick something at random and you’re just going to deal with it,” Shoko laughed clearly tipsy too after the multiple drinks you both had drank.

The disco ball was spinning around the small room painting the walls in hues of blue, red and green. Nanami sat on the couch nursing his whiskey as he stared off into space. The upbeat music filled the room, bass shaking the ground underneath your feet.

It was the first time going out after the events at Gojo’s house. Shoko had basically begged you to come with her to get shit faced complaining that she really needed someone to rant with. You told her that Utahime was right there and would probably love to listen to her, but she claimed that the woman from Kyoto had other plans for the weekend.

After arriving at the karaoke bar you had been taken back after seeing the stoic blonde man at the venue. You weighed the option of immediately leaving in your head, but your conscience did not allow you to do so, after leaving him so rudely hanging in the meeting. When the three of you had gotten your own private room you decided to immediately order shots and drinks with the only goal of getting absolutely black out drunk tonight despite having Nanami there.

It was honestly rare to see him after work as he had preferred to keep his distance. He was wearing the same clothing he always wore, dress shirt ironed, necktie perfectly hanging against his chest as if he was on the clock. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to whip out a cursed tool onto the bar table.

You clutched onto the microphone singing unevenly as you danced to the beat, half of the syllables disappearing to you being out of breath. Shoko cackled, almost folding over as she kept slapping her thigh eyes watering. She had drunk a few drinks less than you and she had been exceptionally happy even before drinking. Truthfully Shoko was quite a heavy drinker and she definitely should not have been as wasted as what she appeared to be.

Nanami stared at the both of you, raising the whiskey glass to his lips after checking his wrist watch.

“Come here! Sing with us!” You yelled to the mic only getting a slightly alarmed expression out of him as he shook his head.

“I think I’m okay with watching you two perform,” he said.

You pouted but kept on singing, your concentration skills nonexistent. You did not notice the way Shoko glared at him, nudging her head towards you as she pointed the microphone in her hand towards him.

Nanami cleared his throat under the threatening gaze and clumsily got up.

“Oh my god! Nanamiii!” You screamed the noise so high pitched that even the speakers were unable to handle it and you could see how Nanami cringed at the sound.

Shoko squinted her eyes and mouthed the word sing to Nanami. Shoko was not going to deal with you alone.

The combination of the pop song and Nanami’s voice made you giggle as you hurrayed him happily. He was not a bad singer by any means, but his voice did not fit the song choice. You wondered to yourself, why had you not gotten shitfaced earlier when you had all the good reasons to.

Shoko decided to take a small break sitting on the spot where Nanami had been earlier and inspected the brown liquid swishing in the glass. She stole a sip from it when Nanami wasn’t watching, not really caring about the fact that it wasn’t her drink.

You grabbed your drink from the table and drank from it and you kept on singing happily, almost jumping around. Nanami looked at you with a terrified expression when you moved side to side with the drink spilling on your hand, but you did not notice the wetness of it.

“Hey, put that down before you drop the glass,” Nanami said and gently tried to take the glass from you.

“No, I want to keep this,” a pout formed on your face but you still did what he told and turned around swiftly to place the drink on the counter. Your vision was blurry, the lights slightly too bright and you lost your balance tipping over the glass that was already safely on the table. You felt yourself starting to fall but a strong arm snaked around your waist to stabilize you.

The world felt like it was stopping when the arm around you changed into a tight rope that pressed around your ribcage. The karaoke room changed inch by inch to a vast room with a wall made of windows with a night view of the streets of Tokyo. The shattered drink turned into a broken light bulb on the floor. You felt a hot breath on your skin, but your body had gotten cold. It was as if you had been dunked into ice water, all the earlier excitement completely vanished. The disco ball spun around casting blue lights on the white haired man’s face that ogled you like a piece of meat. The imagery was so vivid and real in your mind that you reacted on instinct, elbowing the man behind you.

The rope vanished around you as the windows melted to the concrete floor, the shadows of city lights turned back to the tacky illumination of the disco ball. You felt the remnants of cursed energy fizzing out like a soda can as your eyes landed on Nanami, who was slightly hunched over holding onto his side the pain making him grimace. You had no idea how much force you had actually used, but probably quite a lot judging by the way Nanami was reacting.

Shoko stood there completely still, eyes filled to the brim with worry and confusion. Her lips were ajar and she gulped down wanting to say something, but she did not know what.

“My apologies. I didn't mean to touch you inappropriately,” Nanami managed to say. The music track played in the background, but it felt empty without a drunken voice guiding it. He was lucky to have good reflexes, instinctually protecting himself from the blow, otherwise Shoko would have had a patient off the clock.

“Uh,” Your mouth gaped at him hopelessly. He had done nothing wrong.

“I’ll go for a cigarette,” you blurted out and left the room hurriedly. The long hallway stretched in front of your eyes as you looked at the numbers on karaoke booths, only muted colors flashing through the slightly translucent doors. You leaned on the wall as you dragged your feet forward arriving at the front desk that thanked you for your time, but you did not pay attention to them and turned to your left to stare at the steep stairway.

The steps were made out of wood with a black paint that had started to chip away and the walls were pure red, too bright and intense for your eyes. You focused on the door in front of you and barely saw the red walls around it as they got covered by a dark cloud, your way of seeing more animalistic than human.The only thing in your mind was the need to get some fresh air as emotions threw you around like a shipwreck at the sea.

You pushed the door open and walked over to a bicycle stand choosing an empty spot where you plopped yourself on. You rocked yourself back and forth as you cried and gripped onto your skin painfully hoping that at least the physical sensation would put an end to your suffering. You started to be more aware of the familiar banging against your skull.

The door of the karaoke bar opened as Shoko walked outside, her face now serious, resembling more the woman she was at work than the friend giggling at drunk people's jokes.

“Hey. You forgot this inside.” She handed you your bag.

You wanted to answer something but you could not as the words got stuck to your throat. Your world flashed back and forth between sensations that you weren’t supposed to feel in this moment. The guilt and sadness ate you alive, nipping away from your vitals the more you tried to push them down.

Shoko placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it up and offered it to you. You took it gladly off her hands inhaling the sweet smoke, but you almost ended up suffocating on it as your nose was too stuffed to handle it. Even the menthol taste was unable to help you with this issue. Shoko opened the green box once more to get herself a smoke as well.

She took a drag out of it and watched your shuddering figure.

“I saw you in the hallway with Geto. Something happened at Gojo’s right?”

You lifted your head up mascara running on your cheeks. Had you not been in such a bad state her words would have shocked you.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want my help.” Shoko crouched down to your level. You stared at her face as she left out a puff of smoke that trailed around her face, the dark eye bags now more visible than ever.

You choked on your tears once more, now openly wailing on the pavement your fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. You dragged your nails across yourself leaving pink trails behind it, the soft tingle covering the areas you had just clawed at.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cried, your words hard to decipher as your breath hitched. “I can’t keep on doing this. It’s all my fault. I’m so stupid,” you screamed snot falling onto your shirt.

“So fucking stupid!” You impulsively pressed the cigarette butt against your thigh melting the cloth away the stinging pain shocking you as your skin shed its layers against the fire.

You had no shame in your breakdown, frankly you did not even recognize the others that looked in your way speaking with hushed voices around you, as they tightened the grip on their partners hands. “That girl really needs to lay off the drinks,” someone had said loudly. Shoko had wanted to immediately pounce, but she held herself together. She knew that you needed her more.

“Don’t hurt yourself, when you want to hurt someone else,” her voice was just a whisper. “Can I touch you?” She asked not wanting to trigger you further. You nodded.

Shoko pulled you into a tight hug and you buried your face on her chest, holding onto her like it was the last thing keeping you afloat. You seeked comfort in her presence.

“I want to die.” You gripped onto her tighter. “I’m so weak.”

Shoko stroked your hair, her own eyes watering as she listened to you wordlessly. She felt your pain almost just as viscerally as you were experiencing them now.

“No matter… no matter what I do. I can’t escape them. I just want to be gone. I want to-”

Shoko shushed you and slipped her free hand into her pocket, digging out her phone. Almost ten minutes had gone by. She awkwardly opened her chat with Nanami trying to inform the man who was probably still sitting in their booth waiting for the two of you to come back.

A male voice disturbed the two of you. “Is everything okay?”

Shoko pressed her hand on your shoulder pushing herself up from the ground, she whispered to you to stay put, not that you really were in any condition to go anywhere.

“Good that you’re here. I was just about to text you. Can you get us a taxi?”

“Of course,” he said and opened the app punching in your address that Shoko forwarded to him. He looked so much older and out of place in the busy street.

This was the kind hearted and lovely Nanami that had forgiven you immediately, after you had punched him in the gut because you were fucked up in the head. The kind hearted and lovely Nanami that you couldn’t look in the eyes, because of a certain man whose name you felt like acid on the tip of your tongue. The thoughts in your head brought fresh tears to your eyes. You dangerously sailed in the deep waters of suicidal ideation, your tired hands opening the forbidden door.

“It’s going to arrive in five minutes,” Nanami hummed.

“I think you should go. I’ll handle this,” Shoko said, her voice full of pity. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Nanami nodded in agreement.

“For what it’s worth, take care of yourself too.” Nanami’s words were carefully chosen, anticipating that you weren’t the only one who needed a hug.

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, YEAR 2006

The beach was filled with people who enjoyed the way the sun spoiled them with its warmth. Shoko was sitting on a towel next to Mei Mei who applied generous amounts of sunscreen on her hand. They sat underneath a parasol that had been propped in the sand, covering them both from the direct sun. The brown haired girl watched as Utahime excitedly threw herself to the water. She had given up on trying to get Shoko and Mei Mei in the water as well.

“Mei Mei, don’t you have a lot of experience with boys?” Shoko almost whispered and hugged her legs. Her beach shawl swayed when the breeze decided to start playing with the huge piece of cloth.

“Are you trying to imply something?” Her voice was low and melodic but not at all accusatory.

“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you something.” Shoko shook her head flustered. “Is it normal for a guy to kiss a girl without asking?”

Mei Mei burst into laughter. This was the question Shoko was getting all worked up for?

“Shoko,” Mei Mei’s eyes glimmered softly when she said the younger girl’s name with gentleness that reminded her of a mother tugging a child into bed. “I did not take you for being this innocent,” she teased.

“I’m not innocent,” the brown haired girl huffed with the unexpected blush decorating her cheeks.

“Did someone do that to you?” Mei Mei tilted her head curiously and offered the sunscreen bottle to Shoko who happily took it to her hands.

“If I tell you, will you promise that you won’t tell anyone?”

“If I’m honest, I don’t think I care enough to tattle. You got me curious now. Tell me,” she hummed as a smile curled on her lips.

“Well uh.. Suguru kind of kissed me when we were playing truth or dare with Satoru,” Shoko explained . She ran her hand between the warm sand, the grainy texture giving her something else to think about. “It was a stupid dare on Satoru’s part. Dunno why I accepted it.”

Shoko added that she did not want to kiss him under any circumstances but the boy had managed to go over her boundary with ease.

“That’s it?” Mei Mei asked, raising her eyebrow. She was almost bewildered at how tame the story was.

“Yeah.”

The blue haired woman scoffed.

“Guys think that girls like it when they take control and in a certain sense they are right. Maybe they got their eyes on you? Although, I did think that Suguru and Satoru were..” Mei Mei’s voice trailed off as she thought. “It doesn’t matter.” She concluded.

“If I were you. I’d go along with it.” Mei Mei suggested.

“No way. I don’t like them like that. Besides that’s not what I asked for your opinion on.”

“And?” Mei Mei turned her gaze on Shoko, her eyes hardening as she intensely stared at the younger girl. “Those two men are our generation’s strongest and you’re going to complain that one of them gave you a little kiss?”

Mei Mei’s melodic voice dropped lower as she showed her true feelings of distaste towards Shoko’s views.

“If I were you,” she started again, her voice tough and bitter. “I’d be securing my spot by their side and not planning to bring forth meaningless accusations over a game of truth or dare.”

Shoko was at loss with the things that were being said to her. Now that she thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to speak with Mei Mei.

“I did not say I was going to tell anyone,” her voice was squeaky like a little girl’s.

“But you thought about that right?” Shoko did not deny nor confirm the accusation.

Mei Mei’s face softened. “Shoko, you’re a smart girl. You should know better than to get shaken by two boys, especially when you so eagerly lead them on.“

“..I don’t lead them on.”

“Then stop meeting them in your spare time. If you do that, guys will think that you’re willing. You’re not a kid anymore, they do notice that you’re a woman now.”

She stayed quiet, Mei Mei’s words burning on her skin worse than the summer heat. She did not want guys thinking about her that way. She simply wanted to be their friend and the idea of boys and girls being unable to do that because of bodily differences made Shoko shudder.

“You want to help your friends, right?” Mei Mei asked when Utahime got out of the water.

Shoko nodded.

��Then become a doctor. That’s the best you can do to others with the technique you have.” Her words were probably meant to be comforting, but they made Shoko’s heart sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“Shookoo!” Utahime ran towards the two girls sitting on the beach towels.

“Are you willing to swim now?” Sand and water droplets clung onto her radiant skin that the younger girl admired silently. Shoko felt her heart skip a few times in her chest when Utahime offered her hand to her.

“Sure.” The shy smile stretched on Shoko’s lips.

“I’ll stay here. But you guys have fun.” Mei Mei announced as she opened the book next to her the pages slightly crumpled up.

Shoko did not really register Mei Mei’s voice anymore. She grabbed Utahime’s hand and the world slowly faded away around them.

****

Shoko went through the bathroom nimbly avoiding piles of clothing or takeout bags as she looked through your bathroom cupboard. She found a bag of half used cotton pads and a micelar water from the mess.

The taxi drive had felt like eternity. Your tears had dried before settling in the car and numbness had taken over. Shoko helped you to your bed and said that she’d come back soon, closing the door behind her giving you some space to change into something more comfortable.

The door opened. Shoko looked at you and sat on the bed. You were using a pillow as a support for your back. The night lamp’s warm color casted shadows around your puffy face. The woman shook the bottle in her hand and poured liquid on the white cotton pad and tilted your face towards hers.

She pressed the pad on your eyelid carefully letting the mixture soak through the heaps of makeup on your face. You sniffled sadly before speaking.

“I can do this on my own too.”

“I want to do this,” her voice was soft as she spoke the makeup remover leaving your skin slightly cold. You simply nodded and admired the way her hair framed her face.

“You know I’ve had my own bad experiences too,” Shoko said, her face turning to a slight frown. Her mind was sailing in memories that she had given up on trying to understand.

You were at a loss of words. You wanted to pry, but it felt invasive.

“With them? Really?” You heard yourself asking as you danced on the line of impropriety.

“Yeah,” Shoko hummed, “but we shouldn’t have this conversation yet. Maybe in the morning, but not now,” she tried to make her voice sound brighter, feel brighter as if it would fix everything.

“Okay,” you said. Maybe she’s right about this. Shoko discarded the dirty cotton pad, simply placing it on the bedside table. It was at its limits the whole thing turned into the color of your foundation with the small black streaks of your mascara on it, or what was left from it.

She held onto your face gently for a moment too long even after she was done. You opened your eyes to really look at her. She looked so sad and.. young? Yes young was the right word. She looked like a woman robbed out of something sacred. She had been so happy, so easy to excite in her youth, but now all she seemed to carry was baggage.

Your drunken mind wanted to close the distance, but something held you back. Maybe it was all the answers that were still being withheld by her, maybe it was the understanding that it’s not the right time yet.

“Can you stay the night?” you whispered. Shoko breathed in and opened her mouth to say something, but you were faster. “Please? Th-there’s some clothes you can borrow in my closet.”

She stayed quiet and you waited patiently.

“I’ll stay.”

You smiled weakly at her and muttered a gentle thank you. She shuffled up from the bed and walked over the closet you had pointed for her. You turned your back to her when you heard the rustling of clothing that she ended up piling up neatly on one of the spare chairs in your bedroom.

You fluffed up the pillow next to you and lifted up the blanket when she climbed in. You turned your back to her as you lay down on your side. Your hand searched the light switch and then the room was pitch black.

Shoko awkwardly came closer to you till your back was against hers and she played with your hair idly in the silence. The touch was friendly, your body slumping in relaxation almost immediately. It was nice to have someone there. You had gotten so used to being afraid of the nights.

“Good night,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Night.”

***

You woke up alone with no trace of the woman in your room. She had gotten up earlier than you and dressed up back to the clothes she had in the bar. You hugged your plush blanket, almost burying your whole face underneath it, not ready to face the day.

Your head hurt and you felt nauseous. How is Shoko even able to do things? You wondered to yourself.

The faint knock on the bedroom door disrupted your thoughts as the door opened slightly.

“I made a sandwich for you and found some painkillers, if you want any,” she said and you heard her steps further away again.

You groaned and threw the blanket away from your body, the cold greeting you roughly.

Your kitchen had gotten miraculously cleaner, the multiple empty beer cans piled in a bag and the dishwasher hummed quietly. You stared at the brown table in front of you that had two sandwiches and glasses of water on it, hunger long gone from your body.

“You really should drink less.” Shoko picked up another empty can from the counter just to place it in the bag.

“Like you’re the one to talk.” You sat on the chair with its legs squeaking against the floor with your rough treatment.

You grabbed the pill bottle and rattled out two tablets that you threw in your mouth and drank barely enough water to chase them down.

��What do you remember?” Shoko asked and sat in front of you. She wasn’t feeling very hungry either.

“I remember punching Nanami and the talk we had before we fell asleep,” you mumbled, playing with the edges of the slightly crusty lettuce between your sandwich. You had meant to use it on a salad a few days ago, but you were too tired to cook for yourself. Even the simple things were hard. “What did I tell you?”

“Nothing. You were just crying.”

Oh. So it was like that.

“They assaulted me.” Your face was stern, emotions hidden behind a wall. The words felt weird. It was the first time you had actually said it out loud.

Shoko’s face widened from shock.

“They what?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” you hissed.

“Sorry, I won’t.”

The silence felt unbearable and you stuffed your face full of bread just to do something.

“They did something similar when we were still in school.” Shoko ripped the hangnail painfully from her skin and pressed on the miniscule wound with one of her fingers.

You chewed the sandwich aggressively without tasting anything, the texture turning to mush in your mouth.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Your words were way more accusatory than what you wanted.

Shoko turned her head to the side looking hurt by your sudden outburst. Her eyebrows scrunched together in pain as she looked for the perfect words, but there were none.

“You admired them. I didn’t want to take that away from you, and when I realized that I probably should have said..”

“Bullshit, Shoko. It’s been ten years. I deserved to know, you could have-”

“Stop blaming me for their shit!” she yelled. Shoko never yells.

You fell quiet. You reined in your anger, its hands still attempting to reach out to anything it could latch on. She was right. It’s not her burden to bear, but you still couldn’t help but feel powerless, when there could have theoretically been someone who could have told you to not go there.

“Sorry,” you simply said just to drop the topic. Shoko sighed defeatedly and pushed her head briefly against her hands. She understood the anger, she really did.

“They drugged me and then raped me together. I don’t remember a lot from it. I fought back – well attempted to,” your voice shook as you spoke.

The brown haired woman simply looked at you with silent empathy.

“Did you at least get one good punch in?”

Your lips curled into a downhearted smile. The memory of your feeble fight playing in your mind, the weakness and despair of it all, a futile attempt of a prey to preserve their life just one moment longer.

“Not a single one,” you laughed hollowly as one tear rolled on your cheek and your lips trembled. “But I did rip some hair out of Geto at the school,” you tried to brighten your voice and be brave.

Shoko’s eyes watered and she answered your smile with her own.

“Good.”

The almost happy expression faded from your face. Everything hurt, never had you ever thought to be in a situation like this where you were exchanging devastation with your friend like gifts on christmas.

“Why did you stay? Even Nanami left for a while, you could have done the same.” Your question was gentler this time.

Shoko pondered for a minute, not sure of her answer either.

“Because this is the only way I could help. I had you and Utahime and I didn’t want to leave you two behind. Besides what else was I supposed to do? I’ve been given a technique that can save many if I choose right. Had I left a lot more could have died because I wasn’t here — all because of what two men did,” she tried to put her thoughts together.

“There’s a reason why Utahime doesn’t like Gojo,” Shoko blurted out and played with her hair.

You took a careful sip of water as if you were trying to carefully dissect the different flavors of Shoko’s words.

“What do you mean? Did they do something to her as well?”

“No. I just mean that women know, you know? I think it’s in our blood to recognize danger. That’s one of the reasons she despises him. But this is just my thought, not an universal truth,” Shoko wondered out loud.

She breathed in once again as if the words she was about to speak were too painful.

“I think sometimes us women have to carry the atrocities of men. There’s no rhyme or reason why they do certain things. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I never went through what you did, but I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she mused. “I’m sorry though. What you went through. It’s not right.”

Her brown eyes stared at you expectantly. You chewed on your lip nervously and tapped the empty plate with your nail, the small tinkle sound working as a metronome.

“No, it’s not,” you huffed. But it feels like it’s my fault. If I had not gone there, if I had not idolized them – loved them even. This wouldn’t have ended this way. It was easier to leave those words in your head.

“So what now?” You looked at Shoko, your eyes pleading, asking for answers, guidance, anything she would be able to provide to you. You knew there was nothing clear cut Shoko could say, but god how you wished that someone would know what to do.

Shoko shook her head in defeat as if telling you that she wasn’t able to point you on the right track like that.

“Whatever you want. You can stay or go, but you don’t have to carry it alone,” Shoko said, her face gentle. You could still draw out the remnants of the young girl from the year two thousand and six on her features. The lines were almost faded but they were still there.

You found kinship in her even if neither of you had shared the full story of what had happened. You weren’t there yet and you weren’t ready. Instead the two of you skirted around words unspoken finding solace of at least having someone who could understand. It was up to the both of you what to make out of the confessions of the past.

#tw: noncon #shoko ieiri x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru

419 notes · View notes

temis-de-leon · 6 months ago

Text

Day 9 - Waiting to be kissed

Characters: Lucifer x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: average sleep paralysis demon experience, established relationship, drunk Luci

MC wasn’t entirely sure about reality. Their heart still pounded, desperately begging them to run from whatever creature was chasing them through the forest, but they didn’t feel the crisp air of nature anymore and they weren’t hearing the sounds of heaving and growling either.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Their eyelids felt heavy and even though the fear of being hunted persisted, the familiar smell of their room and the warmth of the blankets helped them realize it was just a nightmare. A horrible, daunting nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.

They opened their eyes with residual concern and searched for anything that could harm them, but their vision was still blurry; the pictures on the wall nearly indistinguishable and the clump of clothes on the chair imitating a slouched figure, shoulders and all. What was probably a sleeve even resembled a hand resting on a knee and when the pile inevitably moved forward due to its weight, it almost looked like it was breathing.

MC clenched their teeth waiting for the fall, but nothing came. The clothes stayed at the edge of the seat, somehow balancing on their own before going back and finally resting against the backrest.

The pile sighed, then crossed its legs.

Drenched in panic, MC grabbed their pillow and threw it towards the figure, hitting them in the face before landing on their lap.

“MC!”

They stared at his direction, struggling to trace his silhouette in the darkness before he waved his hand and made the candles in the tree light up. The glow that filled the room was, thankfully, low enough for MC to look at the demon without squinting.

“Lucifer?”

His irritation at being hit was apparent, but they couldn’t take him seriously when half of his face was covered in a faint red hue.

“You scared me, MC” he finally said, chuckling.

“I scared you?” they repeated.

A flashed of embarrassment crossed his expression and his eyes avoided their gaze. He fidgeted in the chair for a few seconds before finally getting up and sitting at the end of the bed to stare at MC, half-lidded eyes giving them enough information to know what caused this behaviour.

MC sighed and sat against the headboard, heart still pounding at the creepy image of the demon watching them in the darkness.

“Did you drink with Diavolo today?”

“How did you know?” his eyes opened wide in surprise.

They rubbed their eyes, forcing themselves to ignore the fatigue. They’d rather not have Lucifer staring at them in their sleep again.

“I just know…”

He sat there, quietly, intertwining his fingers with a dreamy expression. Then, moving in what he probably thought was a sneaky motion, Lucifer got close to them and extended his hand. MC rolled their eyes, but accepted the gesture nonetheless.

“I sent you a message, but it seems you were sleeping” he explained, flustered “I was dying to see you”

They’d be lying if they said his words didn’t make their heart flutter, but the tiredness turned them into a very petty human.

“Well, I almost died when I saw you, so there’s that”

“I’m truly sorry, MC”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. His cheeks became even redder, if that was possible, before finally saying what was on his mind.

“Would you, perhaps, give me a kiss…?"

“No”

“No?”

MC stared at him and his stunned expression, leaving the lover boy act behind, and rejoiced in the way his hands flew straight to his chest like they had said something heinous.

“May I ask why?” he looked away, trying to hide his disappointment.

“You scared the shit out of me” they explained, finally laying down again and pulling their blanket over their head “Wait until tomorrow“

“But…”

“Wait. Until. Tomorrow”

They heard him sight, still seating at their feet with uncomfortableness. Rolling their eyes again with unnecessary aggressiveness, MC patted the empty space by their side and tried not to smile when he eagerly dived to the mattress.

“Put out the candles”

“Will you kiss me in the morning?” he immediately asked in return, doing as they ordered. The room filled with darkness again, but his arm over their waist and his breathing against their neck chased the fears away.

“Yes, I’ll kiss you in the morning”

They felt his smile on their skin and MC couldn’t help but repeat the gesture. They grabbed his hand, holding it tight, and waited for sleep to reclaim their consciousness again.

With Lucifer by their side, it didn’t take too long.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation @owlisbuffering @chizukimp4 @ravenredwine @darkflowerav @beatlebeesstuff @mehkers

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me fluff #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

291 notes · View notes

messylustt · 1 year ago

Note

Hi there oh my GOD. I LOVE YOUR WRITING.

I wanted to ask if you could write about Miguel protecting his favorite human (maybe from an ex?), when she least expects it. I'm OBSESSED with a casually protective Miggy omg 🤤🤤🤤

god i love this. dftgvbjjjkggjjk

݁ 𓂃 ៸៸៸ protective eyes — miguel o’hara + reader: miguel has found an interest in you and your experiments. his silent watchful gaze soon gets caught up in a message you get from your ex.

contents : protective!miguel. kinda stalker miguel. tad bit of violence + threatening. reader not knowing that miguel is watching her. wc 1.7k.

it was dark outside your window. streaking sections of moonlight darted onto the floor. the very floor you were currently pacing. a text. you had gotten a text. now, normally any form of interactions brought a smile to your face, say, if it was from a friend, talking about the inner workings of dance in the 80's. and yes, they usually were drunk, resulting in you making your way to your car to pick them up.

but this is time is wasn't your friend, this time it wasn't some drunken text. you glance back to the screen of your phone, illuminating your face. you were chewing on your lower lip as you reread the message.

oliver

hey, look i know we didn't end particularly well and everything. but i miss you, babe. like a lot.

'particularly well'? really? it ended horribly. that night was filled with yelling and accusations. the neighbours almost actually called the police. thankfully no authorities were brought in, and the night ended with a harsh slam to the door. so, why now, after two months, was he texting? saying he missed you?

you bring the screen away from your eyes, pressing your lips together in annoyance. and that's when you hear a faint scratch. or what sounded to be a mix of a scratch and a shift. you spin, staring out the window. rushing over you twisted the rusty lever and pushed the window open. cold air hit your face as you squinted against the dim city lights.

just like every time, you found nothing. no one. over the past few months you had been hearing these...noises. movements of what you'd assume to be a person. but you never caught a soul. you had thought you were being watched. it awfully felt like it. but every time you thought of an explanation you could use as reasoning and evidence for the police you had to cut yourself short, realising that all your words were pointing towards a ghost. and what authorities believe in the make-believe?

sighing, you slipped back into your apartment, closing the window as you tiredly brushed your hair back against your head. "i need sleep." you mutter to yourself, stretching your neck from side to side. maybe you did have a ghost. maybe your apartment was haunted, eyes watching you from the walls.

you were wrong about majority but when it came to 'eyes' and 'being watched' you were on point. because someone was keeping a close eye on you. their reasoning? not sure. just that they'd settled into a nice little routine, coming to rest by your fire escape to look through your window when the sun went down. and when no missions required a hero.

miguel o'hara was man of many talents. even with his large frame he always seemed to slip past anything and anyone without their knowledge. and that included your own knowledge. oblivious enough to his gaze you carried on with your day to day life. and maybe he could count himself as a little creepy. but he meant you no harm, none at all. he was just...intrigued.

in the day you worked a simple life, working at sweet cafe on the corner. but at night is where you thrived, hidden in a room you concocted little experiments, using acids and chemicals. you could call it a hobby, but you wanted it to be more. money wasn't necessarily on your side. the lack thereof made sure you couldn't earn a training placement with one of the most presteemed scientific standings. so, in the meantime you were building up a portfolio for yourself, one small test at a time.

miguel had been webbing across this specific universe when a small explosion had gone off. briefly ditching the anomaly he redirected towards the apartment. your apartment. there he had spotted you, waving your hand to get rid of the smoke. the explosion was small enough to not cause too much of a panic.

but his brows seemed to furrow in interest once he realized what had caused the explosion. one of your science experiments. the visual of your hair aray, and your coughing breath reminded him a little too much of himself. similar setup, clear similar ambitions.

so, maybe he had checked in on you once or twice, just to see if you had caused anymore damage. maybe to see how your projects were coming along. you were talented. miguel realised that pretty quickly. and soon enough the routine was set. his placement on the fire escape gave him a chance to rest, along with a chance to watch as you created things with your hands.

throughout these trips he had picked up things in your life. the most obvious one was your boyfriend. or boyfriend at the time. he was...alright, with his dark locks, and a boyish grin. but there was an edge to him, one that miguel picked up rather quickly. you didn't notice this aggressive edge until that fight that ended with the slammed door.

miguel had seen it, shocked in himself that his claws flexed to...what? help? he hadn't thought his observations had mixed with his feelings. he thought his interest in you was purely based on reflection. just a happy coincidence that your actions reminded him of his younger self. but over the next few months he realised that maybe he was looking at you a little too intently. you. instead of your work.

and when he caught a glimpse of your ex's text his face fell. missed you? he missed you? of course he did. what an incredible loss you were to him. but that statement couldn't be considered in 'vice versa'. you didn't need oliver, over the past months miguel has seen that you hadn't even missed him one bit.

but what made miguel's anger come to play was when he caught sight of the next text that popped up. your phone having been left by the window as you moved towards the shower.

oliver

are you really not gonna answer me?

i know where you live

a threat? he was really threatening you? miguel's jaw clenched as he tried to find some sense of calmness in the situation. but all he found was unbridled hatred for your ex. as miguel stood, rolling his wrists he knew exactly where his next stop was going to be.

;;

oliver was busy in his kitchen, glaring at his phone. “you’ve got to be kidding me.” he muttered to himself. “the bitch really thinks that’s it?” he goes to angrily text again. “i gave you two months to miss me. to come back.”

“must have not been long enough.” miguel’s voice broke oliver’s ranting as he spun, eyes wide.

“what the fuck?” he exclaims, watching as the large man steps casually into his kitchen, his claw scraping against the granite.

oliver’s eyes dart down, spotting the talon as his breathing grows choked. “g-get out of my kitchen you…you freak!”

miguel lowly chuckles as he continues to move towards him. “who were you texting?” he asks, finally meeting his gaze.

oliver’s chest is moving a pace a minute, as he gulps, now noticing miguel’s red eyes. “what do you care?” he darts his gaze around. miguel steps closer and oliver grabs a knife. miguel raises a brow, unnerved by the weapon. “i-i’ll call the police.”

“you know, your threats have little effect on me.” miguel states, now towering over him. “but they will effect a girl i don’t particularly want being threatened.”

oliver’s eyes furrow, before the wrinkles smooth. he scoffs out your name. though his voice stays strained. “are you the brat’s new boyfriend?”

oliver doesn’t have to time to comprehend a thing, as he’s pressed against the kitchen cupboard, a clawed hand wrapped tightly around his neck, as his face actually turns a concerning colour. miguel leans closer, snarling. “do you wanna repeat that?”

oliver’s eyes are widened with fear, as he pathetically tries to get out of miguel’s hold. miguel’s claw has begun to imbed itself into the skin of his neck, making oliver’s moves frantic. “no really. repeat it.” miguel’s nose it twitching as oliver swears he’s looking into the face of the devil.

“p-please — ” he tries through gasping breathes.

“ah, that’s not quite right. i heard you call her a brat?” miguel leans closer, fangs protruding. “am i wrong?”

miguel’s claw is now tainted with oliver’s blood as his strength doesn’t let up. miguel can see his eyes fluttering, forcing him to squeeze his cheeks together painfully. tears are welling in oliver’s eyes. and maybe it’s a tad sadistic with how much miguel doesn’t want to stop. “don’t faint on me now. you have a girl to apologise to.”

miguel finally let’s him go, as oliver hits back against the cupboard gasping for much needed air, as he holds his now bruised and bloody neck. miguel watches with an indifferent expression as he waits for oliver to catch his breath. weak — he thinks to himself.

oliver doesn’t dare look up as he keeps his head hung low. “i-I’ll go apologise now — ” but just as he moves to rush towards the door, miguel grabs the back of his collar, harshly pulling him back.

“no, no. you’re not gonna see her.” miguel offers him the phone, oliver’s shaky hand taking it. miguel leans down to his ear, his taunting voice sending shivers down the boy’s spine. “you’re never gonna see her again. you’re gonna text her an apology and that you’re leaving the city.”

oliver goes to protest but miguel’s grip slips to the back of his neck, stopping his words from falling. “and you’re gonna stay away. do you understand?”

all oliver can do is shakily nod, and type out an apology to you. miguel carefully watches over his shoulder. “you can add a bit more feeling than that, can’t you?” miguel taunts. “she doesn’t deserve just some lame ‘i’m sorry’. does she?”

oliver shakes his head as he fills the message with more kind words, before miguel is finally letting him go. and god does he run, barely grabbing his jacket before he’s out his apartment and rushing to his car.

;;

you’re drying your hair, as soft hums of a tune leave your lips. grabbing your phone, you glance at the latest message. you sigh, upon seeing one from oliver. but upon reading it, your brows furrow, as you yet again hear the familiar scratch and shift by your window, your gaze darting up.

944 notes · View notes

mostly-marvel-musings · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 2 - An affair to remember

A/N: Chapter 2, here we are! Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you enjoyed reading this. And no, I couldn’t just settle on one photo.

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ loss of virginity, age gap, smut.

Word count: 4025

An affair to remember

After trying around eleven outfits and disliking each of them for some reason or other, you settled on a simple floral button down blouse with a pair of jeans. You weren’t exactly sure if he’d asked you out on a date or the drink was just a friendly offer.

Of course it’s a date, you kissed him, Y/N, you thought to yourself. The mirror of your car revealed a visibly nervous reflection of you, fixing your hair multiple times, redoing your lipstick before you shook yourself mentally and drove off. Stark tower was a twenty minute drive from your apartment, and since it was a Sunday, traffic was in your favour thankfully.

By the time the tall, shiny building came into view, you had worked yourself up into taking this as a business meeting. You would be professional with the man and politely decline drinks if he’d offered. It would be inappropriate. You were sure he felt the same way.

Apparently your arrival was expected and welcomed in a pleasantly surprising way. A chubby, friendly looking man gave you a smile as you entered the foyer, introducing himself as Happy Hogan. He escorted you up to Mr. Stark’s floor or rather floors which was the penthouse of the ninety-three storeyed building.

The space was swanky, stylish and impeccably designed. Floor to ceiling windows that offered the most stunning views of the city, sleek and modern furniture that only screamed rich. You smoothed down your top and cleared your throat as you approached the outdoor seating area where Tony sat, wearing a dark coloured shirt and some jeans. Casual but still quite well put together, you thought.

“Ah! Miss Y/L/N, you made it. Thanks, Happy.”

As your hands touched, the spark was back, one that made your insides buzz with excitement as you smiled at each other, letting your handshake extend for longer than necessary. It was only when Happy cleared his throat to announce his exit that you broke contact.

As he left, you considered bringing up the elephant in the room that loomed large, causing you to shuffle your weight from one foot to the other. Maybe if you addressed it right away, you could move on and be done with it? Not let the meeting be awkward for the rest of the evening.

Meanwhile, Tony was trying his best to focus on anything but your irresistible lips. He was drawn to them, it was quite unexplainable but he wanted nothing more than to have your lips on his again.

“So…” you started, twirling a lock of hair nervously between your fingers as you looked around, aware of his gaze following.

“So.”

“I think we should talk about what happened. Look, it was a mistake, I don’t know what came over me, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Tony blinked his disappointment away and nodded in agreement. It was probably for the best.

“Yeah, probably. You’re right. It—it was inappropriate.”

“Yes! I mean, you’re friends with my Dad and also way out of my league.”

Your admission made him smirk, watching your cheeks flush with realization of what you had said.

“Out of your league huh? What is your league? Overzealous frat boys?” he teased.

“Haha. You’re funny.” You rolled your eyes but hoped he’d drop the subject, thankfully he did, brushing it off as no harm done, much to your relief.

You unconsciously reached for your camera, thinking it’d be better if you steered the subject to the big photoshoot.

“You brought your camera, why?” Tony murmured, pointing to the device sticking out from your bag.

“I just thought I’d do a few test shots of the locations you’d be photographed in. Check the lighting and things. It will be a day shoot, right?”

Tony frowned, realizing he was yet to work out all of that or he probably had been sent the schedule but it slipped his mind. He also thought it’d be a good idea to inform Natalie about the change in photographer, since the magazine had been adamant on bringing their own person for the job.

“That’s a good question, I have no idea. But don’t worry, I’ll have my secretary send you the details.”

Humming in agreement, you asked if he could show you around the space, get an idea about what the vibe of the interview was going to be like. He happily agreed and began a tour of the place, explaining what housed on each floor, giving you a background about his business which you kinda already knew - one Google search was all it took to give the necessary details and some unnecessary ones as well. Tony had a notorious reputation of being a playboy, he certainly lived a very colourful life and had made no qualms about it.

Still, his eyes reflected the passion he had for technology as he spoke, the pride he took in pointing out all of the achievements Stark Industries had over the years.

Primarily a weapons manufacturer, he decided on taking a different route for his company after a particularly life-changing incident in Afghanistan. The man was abducted by a terrorist group called Ten Rings and kept in a cave for three months.

While how he escaped remained a mystery to the world, his return had been miraculous. He led you back to his grand living room, gesturing you to take a seat.

“You said an explosive blew up not far from you and yet you came out of that cave scratch free? How?” you asked about his incredulous story.

“Not just any explosive, it was one of my own creations. And I never said it was scratch free.”

He seemed to ponder for a while, looking around as if to check if anyone was spying on you two before he reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them to reveal what looked like a circular battery-like device emitting a faint blue light. It seemed as if it was jammed in his chest, the peripheral skin scarred.

“What is that?”

He chuckled as your eyes went wide, glancing down at the device that was keeping him alive.

“It’s an electromagnet that essentially keeps the shrapnel from reaching my heart. It’s called an arc reactor, there is another one of these, a much bigger one that powers this building.” he explained, buttoning his shirt back up and letting you know how he managed to power it with the help of a man named Ho Yinsen in the caves.

If it weren’t for that little device, and the brave sacrifice of Yinsen, the world would’ve lost Tony Stark and you would’ve never met this incredible man.

“And here I assumed you sold your soul to the devil.”

Your words made him laugh, feeling a little flutter in that battery-operated heart. He wasn’t sure what made him reveal the arc reactor to you, he hadn’t let anyone see it, except for Rhodey since he found him in the desert. Something about you reassured him that you were trustworthy. You were like a breath of fresh air.

After returning, Tony Stark had dedicated much of his business to RnD in the field of science and technology. You listened with keen interest, getting to know the man better with each passing moment, you couldn’t help but admire him for all the success he’d achieved.

“Gosh. Where are my manners? I haven’t offered you anything to drink, Miss Y/L/N.” Tony exclaimed, right as one of his bots whirred in with a silver tray that had a bottle of champagne on ice with two glasses.

“Robots bringing in champagne? You planned this, didn’t you?” you chuckled, finding it rather hard to refuse it. I mean, it wouldn’t really hurt having one glass. Right?

“I’m just trying to make a good first impression.” he shrugged, popping the bottle open expertly before filling the two glasses.

“Why? You’re not an overzealous frat boy.” you teased, taking a sip of the champagne while holding his gaze.”

“Oh honey, I’m much better.”

There it was again.

The tingle of excitement you felt deep within your belly every time you had a banter. Even though you wouldn’t admit to yourself, you were attracted to the man. He was just so sure of who he was, he carried himself with a certain confidence that was quite sexy.

For the next couple of hours, you two spoke about anything and everything, making you realize how easy he was to talk to despite the age difference. You spoke about your relationship with your parents, your eyes lit up each time you mentioned how your father had been your biggest cheerleader while Tony listened with a soft smile on his face. His phone kept buzzing every now and then and he kept dismissing it. When it rang for the fourth time, you thought it was time for you to head back since you’d stayed for longer than you had intended to.

“You should get that, it’s probably important. I’ll get going.”

Tony stood up with you, not really ready to let you go just yet, though the incessant buzzing of his Stark pad was hard to ignore.

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you for another glass? Perhaps some wine? Happy could drive you home later..”

The offer was tempting, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye either but you had to. You would see him next week anyways.

“Thank you, but I think I should head back, it’s late. What you’ve done with Stark Industries is truly remarkable. Thank you for sharing your story with me. You’re an incredible man, Tony. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for it.” You smiled, meaning every word you’d said.

He had been complimented many times before but something about your words made him believe it. He felt his heart dance a little with joy.

“See you on Wednesday then?”

“Uh yeah. See you.”

Deciding on a friendly hug, you wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his scent, something so oddly comforting about it. Smiling to yourself when you felt Tony’s breath against your hair, you pulled back only to find him staring at your lips. You kissed him on the cheek quickly, and stepped back, not trusting yourself to not make the same impulsive decision no matter how much you wanted to do it.

“Bye, Tony.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He watched you until the elevator doors closed, leaving you to let out a sigh and lean against the cold metal. The whole way down, you contemplated what it would be like to kiss Tony, recalling the moment your lips had touched the other night. It only lasted a second but it hadn’t left your mind ever since.

You wanted to do it again.

You wanted more. Him. In every way possible. It was like a need you felt that drew you to him, like a moth to a flame. You knew it would be dangerous and yet it was impossible to resist the temptation.

It was probably why you decided to go with your instincts and press the button that led you back to Tony Stark.

He had his back to you when you reached his floor again, you saw the same flame of desire dancing in his eyes that danced in yours as he turned to find you standing there. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as you took long strides and he met you halfway, lips colliding in an instant.

You felt your breath knocked out of your chest as you kissed Tony Stark, a rush of excitement surging through your body as his arms went around you to pull you flush against his chest, keeping you there. You gasped at the intensity and Tony used the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss.

A lingering taste of champagne mixed with a hint of coffee is what you tasted as you gave in and your hands found their way around his neck, carding through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Not realizing he had walked you back until you were met with the cool wall behind, you felt Tony smile against your lips before they trailed lower, along your jaw, down to your neck. Letting out a soft moan, you tugged on his hair silently signaling him to not stop. Desire flooded through you and gathered between your legs as he continued nipping at your skin, reveling in the little sounds you made. His hands slid up your body to brush against your breasts, his thumb deliberating until your nipples stood erect against his touch.

You felt goose pimples across your body where he touched you as his hands slipped inside your blouse, wanting to feel more of your skin. Wasting no time, Tony unbuttoned it hastily and threw it to the side, bringing his lips over your collarbone, littering small kisses along it.

Letting out a sigh, you felt his hands toy with the hem of your jeans as his mouth closed over your bra-covered nipple. You weren’t alien to the feeling but your eyes fluttered open when Tony unzipped your jeans and let it slide down your legs.

“Bedroom?” he asked huskily after you’d stepped out of them, leaving you in a matching pair of lingerie. You managed a nod before following him inside his bedroom, a heady cocktail of desire and lust swimming in your mind as the man gently laid you against the soft mattress.

“So gorgeous, Y/N.”

He crawled over you with purpose, his gaze darkening as he took in your form before his lips crashed against yours once more. The kiss had more urgency this time, while he prodded your legs open to allow you to feel his growing erection.

You let out another gasp feeling his hardness brush against your core, a rush of ardor followed by sudden insecurity made its presence known as you sat up on your elbow, breaking the kiss.

“Tony, I’ve never um–I mean I’m a–” you fumbled with the choice of words, heat creeping up to your cheeks as you tried to convey you had never done this before. Tony rested his arms on either side, still breathing heavily as he took your words in, his own heartbeat pounding against his ears while blood had rushed southward.

“Do you want to stop? We can if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, not wanting to back out this but you had apprehensions which he could sense. Gently caressing your bare legs, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Tell me what you want.”

You answered by pulling him in for another hungry kiss and wrapping your legs around him to let him know the answer.

“Words, sweetheart.” he murmured, rolling his hips towards your center once again.

“I want you, Tony. I want this.” you managed, unbuttoning his shirt quickly, surprised at your assertion. In the darkness of the room, the blue glow emitted from his arc reactor acted like a source of light, rendering his features luminescent.

With a couple of hasty kisses against your lips, he made you lie back before trailing his path of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, discarding your bra to expose you some more. Cupping one in a hand, tweaking the nipple between his fingers, Tony closed his mouth around the other one, coaxing out a needy whine.

Treating both of them equally, he allowed his hand to travel lower to cup your sex over your panties, smirking as he found them already damp. You felt your breathing turn shallower as his fingers traced along your clothed slit, brushing against your bundle of nerves every so often.

“I want to taste you, sweetheart. Want to know if you taste just as sweet down there as you do here.” Tony’s words turned your insides to jelly, his lips sucking on your tongue as he slowly peeled the last remaining cloth from your body.

Your heart hammered inside your ribcage as he kissed his way down your body, settling between your legs, holding them apart as you instinctively went to close them.

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

You did as you were told, wetting your bottom lip with your tongue as you felt his breath down there, the air making your glistening folds shine eagerly. He first laid small kisses along your inner thigh before his tongue peeked out to tease you open. You let out a cry when his tongue licked a strip up your entrance, the action wildly exciting and new for nobody had gone down on you before. You felt him draw small circles around your clitoris, sending waves of desire down your spine as you squirmed for more.

“Oh my God!” you panted, anchoring your hands in his hair while he continued.

“Does it feel good, sweetheart?” he did everything in his might to not devour you the way he wanted to, knowing you’d probably feel overwhelmed if he did. In all honesty, your scent drove him mad and your taste was irresistible, he couldn’t get enough.

“Yes! Feels so good, Tony!”

Your words encouraged him to continue the assault, every lick and nudge drawing the sweetest of sounds from you. Your wetness gathered on his finger as he traced a line along it, pushing it inside your heat, grunting as he felt your walls immediately clamp around it.

“Relax, Y/N.” Tony repeated, slowly stroking you with his finger, getting you ready for his cock that strained against his pants. Your slickness helped when he added another finger, drawing out yet another moan as you felt an increase in pressure down there.

His thumb brushed against your clit while he massaged your walls open for him, making you lose all sense of coherence as you felt something building inside of you. The familiar tightness low in your belly when you pleasured yourself when alone, only this time, it felt like it had increased by tenfold. Tony held you down as your hips rose up from the bed in their own accord, matching his ministrations. As your moans got louder, you sensed you were close, tugging on his hair once more, you felt your walls tighten around his fingers.

“Let go, Y/N. Come for me.”

And you did. It felt like a tight-wound rope snapped, giving way for an intense wave of pleasure that shook your body. It felt exhilarating at the same time unreal, like you were floating away on a cloud of bliss. When you came down from your high, Tony had discarded his pants and was slanting his lips over yours, letting you taste some of your essence.

Feeling bolder now, you reached between your bodies to stroke his hard cock over his boxers, hearing his breathing hitch.

“Remove them.” He ordered, aiding you when pushed them down his legs to let his cock spring free.

You felt your walls clamp around nothing at the sight of him, he was big, making you wonder if it would hurt when you finally had him.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you watched Tony tear open a foil of condom and roll it over his length. Settling between your legs once more, he kissed you again, this time with a languid urgency.

You tensed up as his erection poked against your core, sensing it Tony broke the kiss to look into your eyes for signs of apprehension.

“We can still stop if you want to, Y/N. Just say the word.”

Appreciative of how considerate he was being, you knew you were ready. You wanted him, as much as he wanted you. Wrapping your fingers around his length delicately, you stroked him a few times, watching his mouth fall open.

“I want you to fuck me, Tony.”

You whispered, lying back against the pillows and allowing him to take control. He lined up against your entrance, gathering your arousal as he went before slipping just the head of cock inside.

“This will hurt a little. Breathe through it for me?”

Nodding, you felt him push in further, letting out a grunt at your tightness. He was right, the girth of him sliding inside your channel felt odd but electrifying. Tony felt his cock push past the barrier as he entered you, giving you time to get used to the feeling.

You let out a cry as he bottomed out, the feeling of fullness overwhelmed your senses as the pain stung.

Retracting only a little at first, Tony drove his hips back into you, repeating the action a few more times as you felt pain receding and giving way to a new kind of pleasure.

“More.” You begged, digging your fingers into his back as he complied.

Your tight heat felt so amazing around his cock, Tony felt himself getting lost in the feeling. Steadily he set a pace, pushing you against the mattress as his hips speared into you, drawing sinful moans.

The feeling of being wound up again took over, Tony smirked as you wrapped both your legs around his hips tighter, the new angle making his cock reach deeper inside your pussy.

“You’re so tight, Y/N. You’re close again, aren’t you?” He breathed, increasing the force of his thrusts to make his pubic bone brush against your clit.

“Yes! I’m so close. Please, Tony.” You whimpered, moving your hips to match up as sounds of your combined pleasure filled the room.

Reaching between your bodies, he teased your clit while driving in and out of your sopping heat, aiding your second orgasm. You felt yourself clamp around his cock before the same feeling of euphoria took over, making your walls spasm out of control.

Vision blurred and body convulsed under the intense waves of pleasure coursing through your veins as you rode out your high. Tony grunted against your ear as your spasming walls fueled his climax, causing his balls to tighten before he emptied himself in the condom, holding you close. Gingerly, he pulled out of you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness you felt.

“You okay?”

“More than okay.” you grinned lazily, accepting the soft kiss he offered.

As tired as you were, you didn’t protest when he nudged you to get up, leading you to the shower for a quick clean up, the soreness between your legs evident.

You exchanged several kisses in the shower, the hot water working wonders on relaxing your muscles, making it evident you were in need of a nap soon.

Once fully dressed, Tony resisted the urge to make you stay again and walked you out while your car stood, waiting. He could sense you were preoccupied with something since you hadn’t said much.

“Tony, about the photoshoot..”

“Oh no, that’s no longer required. I just wanted to sleep with you.” He shrugged, making your stomach drop for a second before he chuckled, enjoying his joke way more than you did.

“Come on, Y/N. I asked you because you’re the person for the job. This doesn’t change anything.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist to give you a quick kiss.

That definitely quietened your insecurities, but it didn’t ease the thought that you had lost your virginity to this gorgeous man who was not only older, but very good friends with your parents. If they ever found out…

On your way back, you also thought about how you’d break the news to Izzy, there was not a thing you kept from her. And if you didn’t, you were positive she’d find out somehow, she was quite shrewd about these things.

As uncertain as you were about it all, you couldn’t shake off the fact that you had slept with Tony Stark.

And it was fantastic.

Changing into comfortable clothes, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a smile that refused to leave your face before deciding on pulling out your phone.

Cocky billionaires are still not my type, you know…

You texted Tony once you reached home, a big grin on your face, waiting for his response as the three dots appeared almost instantly on your screen.

Oh I know. Maybe I’ll change your mind. Actually I’m pretty sure of it.

Thoughts?

#tony stark x female reader #tony stark smut #tony stark imagine #tony stark fluff #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark series #tony stark x reader #tony stark fic #tony stark x you #the stark squad #anon asks #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings #an affair to remember #tony stark

146 notes · View notes

lewmagoo · 6 days ago

Note

I saw you were writing blurbs! I was wondering if you can write one for Bob Floyd from the smut list? Number 4, maybe Bob is injured but desperately needs his partner?

slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

he was fine. really, he was. just a little bruised, and very sore. he and phoenix had a close call during training that day, and it had forced them to eject from a jet that was hurdling at breakneck speed toward the earth. bob felt as if he’d been thrown down multiple flights of stairs. he ached in places he didn’t even know he could ache. but that wasn’t even the worst of it. no, the worst part was the look on your face when you’d come rushing into his room. you looked so frightened, and he hated that he was the cause of that fear and worry.

when you got the call that he’d been injured, your world tilted on its axis. thankfully your boss had allowed you to leave work early so you could be with your husband. you weren’t even aware of his condition. all you knew was that there’d been an accident, and that he was in the med bay, and no other details were able to be provided at that time. you were going in blind, unsure of what you were about to walk in on. would he be unresponsive? barely hanging on to life? these thoughts spiraled in your mind as you rushed down the hall toward the room they’d put him in. the only thing that gave you some sense of ease was the fact that he was in a recovery room, and not a care unit.

when you burst into the room, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. he was obviously shaken, and there were some visible cuts and bruises, but he was in one piece, and he was alive. your knees almost buckled, but you pushed yourself forward until you reached him. “oh, bobby,” you whimpered. his eyes filled with tears, and you were quick to sit beside him and carefully wrap your arms around him, wary of doing anything that might cause him pain. “i was so scared. i didn’t know if you were okay or not.”

“i’m fine, sweetheart. just a little banged up.” he leaned over to kiss your head, despite the pain that flashed through his ribs. “one of the engines malfunctioned. we had to eject,” he explained.

“how’s nat?” you inquired, hoping she was fine.

“she’s okay. kind of beating herself up over it, even though it wasn’t her fault. she got us both safely out of the jet, that’s what matters.”

relief settled in your chest at the confirmation that your husband’s pilot was safe. you made a mental note to thank her for keeping your bobby out of harm’s way. “what are they saying as far as when you can be released?”

“it’s up to me. either i can stay for observation or i can sign some papers and get released tonight. i think i’m gonna do that. i’d rather spend the night in our bed than in this stuffy old hospital,” came his response.

that was how you found yourselves heading home a few hours later, bobby in the passenger seat as you drove. you held his hand the entire ride home, unwilling to let go. no words were spoken into the silence of the car. nothing could come close to expressing the way you felt. how terrified you’d been that you had lost him. thank god you hadn’t, but what if still lingered in your mind.

it lingered in his, too. long after you pulled into the driveway and guided him into the house. long after you helped him get ready for bed. long after you got him settled beneath the covers. he kept replaying the incident in his mind. the terror, the adrenaline, the realization that this moment could be his last.

“i was thinking of you,” he whispered. so quiet you couldn’t hear him.

“what was that?” you softly asked as you slid into bed beside him.

his mouth quivered. “i was thinking of you, when i was hurdling toward the ground. i thought…i thought for sure i was going to die. that i was never going to see your face again. hear your voice.” he squeezed his eyes shut, although his tears began to slide down his cheeks. “i-i’m glad it didn’t end that way. i’m glad i get another chance to tell you how much i love you.”

your own tears had begun to fall, and a soft sob escaped your throat. gingerly, you kissed him. tears mixing. mouths absorbing the sounds of each other’s weeping. although you were both reeling from this experience, there was an underlying tone of desperation. it manifested in you carefully climbing into his lap, straddling his hips. in your hands resting upon the sides of his neck, and his upon your hips. and when you parted, you could see it in his eyes. an unspoken need. something so strong and impassioned he could not voice it with mere words.

“please, honey, i…” he couldn’t speak. could barely breathe. suddenly it felt as if his skin was on fire.

“i know,” you breathed against his mouth. “are…are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i’m sure.” trembling voice. barely able to breathe.

once again, you kissed him. you were frantic, yet gentle, as you rid yourself of your pajamas, and guided his soft sweatpants down his legs. lips finding his again, you reached down to wrap your hand around his soft cock, stroking him to full hardness as your other hand came down to prepare yourself to take him. it wasn’t long before you were aligning him with you, and he looked down to watch you sink down onto him. a guttural whimper escaped his throat, and his chest heaved as he let out a sob.

“oh! oh, sweetheart,” he sighed as you sank down fully, body flush with his. he wrapped his arms around your body, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders, holding him close, his head against your chest.

“i’ve got you,” came your whisper of reassurance. you held each other, bodies joined as one. tears streaming down your cheeks. mouths open and hot against each other’s. crying and moaning, breathing words of love and adoration. words of devotion.

“never let me go,” he pleaded. he wished you could hold him forever. that he could stay here in your arms, protected from the rest of the world, basking in the warmth of your love.

“never,” you sighed, hips rolling against his, trying your best not to hurt him. but you weren’t hurting him. far from it. you made him feel more alive than he’d felt all day.

“i love you,” he confessed into the air. “i need you. i never want to live without you.”

fingers laced through his hair, you let your forehead rest against his. “i love you too. never wanna live without you, either.”

the gravity of the situation weighed heavy on you both, but you took solace in this intimate connection. and if only for a little while, right here, connected to each other, you found peace. your bobby was safe in your arms. and you were thanking the stars that they’d seen fit to let him come back home to you.

#asks #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #lewmagoo’s blurb day

85 notes · View notes

weirdsht · 3 months ago

Note

"Would u like to hear me yap about regressor!reader x cale? (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ or not? ^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^" "If it's a fic prompt why not? 👀"

OKKKKK 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 .

Ughhh imagine Cale and the gang with someone who regressed because of them and they had no clue about it. In the 1st timeline, everything was fine, they meet the fam, do crazy things, and form relationships until they realized a lot of their companions get hurt or shockingly die. They were a transmigrator like Cale as well, they read the TCF novel, so they were heavily confused a lot of times when out of expectations scenarios happened. Like why are things that never happened in the TCF novel keep happening?

One time they died, then unexpectedly regressed to the starting line, like they came back to the place and age they first gained vision of the TCF world. They try to make everyone safe all while forming unbreakable bonds with her companions at heart.

Sooo in the end they find out that everything happened because of their existence. They were an anomaly, something that shouldn't mess with the original plotline for the journey of Cale Henituse and his family, so that was why they were the target, but somehow, their enemies end up causing harm to the wrong people a lot of times because they try to fight before reader can even lift a finger. Though, none of them know that every time reader dies by their enemy's hands, they regress to their own starting point before they meet everyone. Timeskip they end up dying again lol

In the third timeline, angst and shi, they avoid everyone since they were the main characters and they weren't her enemy's enemy. Thankfully, they survive until the end of the war.

Imagine reader and their loved ones meet again :(( they don't remember about them but somehow the gang keeps stumbling upon reader and they keep seeing weird scenarios and thoughts about reader which confuses them to the max (AND WHY IS READER VISIBLY AVOIDING THEM??? Sus) because they've never met this person before, especially Cale

Insert guilty as sin's "I'm seeing visions, am i bad or mad or wise?" LOLOL

If it's too long or u can't understand the shit i just spilled, it's ok to js keep this as an unanswered ask

I just like to yap and overshare 😭💟

Apparently Not - LoTCF & Regressor! Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, regressor reader, vague novel spoilers, hurt/comfort (not sure if it hurts though), very loosely inspired by how orv uses the disconnected film theory

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

The first time was confusing.

Scenarios that did not happen in the novel kept happening. For some reason despite Cale’s actions being mostly the same, the timeline has taken another course. Things did not go their way. It seems like the enemies are cunning too. They laid out plans that [name] had never read before. Their inadequacy caused the regressor to die at the hands of the magic spearman.

The second time was devastating.

[Name] thought that they got it this time. Thought that they had prepared enough even if things went south.

But why..?

Why is nothing going Cale’s way?

Why are they still losing?

Why is the sword of disaster piercing their heart?

Why are Raon’s teary eyes the last thing they could see before they die?

[Name] thought they were prepared. They thought that with the help of the original novel and their first regression, they could get through everything.

But that was not the case. Time and time again things that did not happen before kept happening. No matter what they did all the favours stack up to the White Star’s favour.

In the [Name] died whilst unable to do anything.

The third time felt like an enlightenment.

“Haa–!!”

Huff. Huff

[Name] woke up with a jolt. They could still feel the fiery sword piercing through their skin and bones. However, when they touch where they have been stabbed there’s nothing there. Their body was perfectly intact as if everything was merely a nightmare.

They must be back then. Back in the starting line. Back to the time when Cale and the others have not met the regressor yet.

‘If I don’t insert myself into the narrative maybe things will go according to the novel?’

Yeah, that must be it.

And so [name] did their best to blend in as a background character. Of course, they still helped behind the scenes. But they made sure to stay out of the spotlight. They have been better at doing that compared to Cale anyway.

They manage to both survive and not have any run-ins with what used to be their family for a long time. It hurt [name] to deliberately avoid the people they love the most, but it had to be done. They can’t be selfish for it will cause the world’s demise.

However, everything changed during the war against White Star.

“Have I met you somewhere before?”

Alberu asks them as they bump into each other after the battle on the Stan Territory. This sent [name] into a mild frenzy. Their original goal was to just weaken the enemies from the shadows, help free the prisoners and then disappear as they they never existed. But now they have come face-to-face with Alberu.

“I wasn’t aware that the rising sun of our kingdom was such a flirt.”

It took everything in the regressor to not cry. Just seeing the quarter-dark elf’s face was enough to make them emotional. Enough to make them remember all those late nights they have spent together talking. All the days they spent bonding over baking. All those talks they had about Cale being a headache.

Not able to take any more overwhelming emotion, [name] excused themself. Disappearing in the shadows once more. Leaving Alberu confused at the interaction.

That night Alberu had dreams of ranting all his dongsaeng problems to a certain regressor that he was sure he had never met before.

What [name] thought was a one-time thing became a frequent occurrence.

Choi Han, Raon, On, Hong, Ron, Beacrox, Rosalyn, Eruhaben…

[Name] kept running into them like a joke by fate.

As if the world wanted to rub it in their face that they could never be part of that family. That their presence will only bring them demise.

So every time they have a run-in with one of them they run away. They didn’t care if they looked like a frightened dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Didn’t care if the interaction always left the other party confused. Could not care if sometimes tears are pooling in their eyes when they have to turn their back once more.

That was until [Name] encountered Cale.

The one person they have been avoiding the most.

Others were fine. Sure it hurts having to run away from them but [name] can just cry it off for 2 nights and they’ll be able to function once more.

But not with Cale.

They can never run away from Cale.

Hence why silence lingered over them as they stared eye-to-eye. Both of them did not break eye contact even when a lone tear dripped on [name]’s cheek.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t know what’s gotten over me. I must’ve confused you for someone I know.”

[Name] tried to hastily wipe their tears as more flowed from their eyes. Their dam of emotions finally overflowed upon meeting Cale and there was nothing the regressor could do to stop it.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’ll get out of your way now.”

They couldn’t see the redhead’s expression due to their tears. However, they were sure he was looking at them weirdly. The mere thought of it hurts, but it’s not as if [name] could blame him since he didn’t know them

Thus why they are now trying to walk away from the situation.

Keyword being try.

How could they when Cale is holding onto their wrist? When he pulled them back in his direction to wipe their tears away?

“You must’ve suffered quite a bit.”

Cale mumbled in their hair as he let the regressor cry in his chest.

The action confused [name]. Cale was kind, but not this kind towards strangers.

“What do you–”

[Name] tried to ask but Cale shoved their face in his chest more to prevent them from speaking.

“[Name]... My records never lied to me. The moment I saw you, recordings of our past timeline resurfaced.”

Ah, so that’s why…

“Then you must also know why I went this route. Let me go…”

Please let me go before I lose my will to fight.

Please let me go before I fall for your warmth once more.

Please…

“No, your place is with us. Everything will work out this time. I promise.”

Cale stroked [name]’s hair. He has no plans of letting them be on their own again. They’re family, even if Cale has to flip the world upside-down just to make sure they will remain one.

“You’ve been away for long enough. Let’s go home now.”

#le asks #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #lotcf #totcf #alberu crossman #tcf x reader #lcf x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #manhwa x reader #lotcf x reader #totcf x reader

129 notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 2 years ago

Text

Like Betta Fish Do- Part 3

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts. wc: 1263

“Sorry for intruding on your haunt! Total accident. Please don’t disembowel me. Sorry again,” Dick read off the card that had been tucked into the gift basket. He glanced from the card, to the rest of the assembled batclan, and back to the card in confusion.

Of course Dick had insisted on coming with Jason to check over Crime Alley. Of course when they found the basket Dick had insisted on bringing it back to the Cave to be tested for poisons—

“They’re bathbombs, who’s going to fucking poison bathbombs.”

“We’ve seen weirder, Jaybird.”

—and so of course the whole family was there now.

Before Dick had even let them move the basket, he checked it out for basic booby traps. (To be fair, this was the first thing Jason did too.) Once the basked had been to the Cave, it was checked over, again, by various Bats. Then, Tim had taken all the contents to run a chemical analysis on the chocolate and bathbombs (seriously, who poisons bathbombs?). And finally, Bruce gave the all clear on examining the basket itself.

Dick had snagged the little card out of it’s little envelope before Jason could even make a grab for it and read off the message. “’Please don’t disembowel me’? What the fuck, Jason.”

Jason raised his hands up with a shrug. “Don’t ask me. Sure, ‘please don’t behead me’ I could get—” he ignored the slight flinch that caused from Tim and Bruce— “But pretty sure word has gotten around that killing isn’t really my sort of MO anymore.”

Thankfully the computer beeped before they could get into all that.

Again.

Tim read over the results before announcing, “Report came back clean on everything.”

“Huh.” Dick seemed actually surprised by that. Jason was feeling really fucking done with his family.

“Perhaps a chemical inside the bathbombs that will explode when exposed to water?” Damian suggested.

Really fucking done.

“We do all get how messed up it is that your brains go there, right?” Duke asked. (Duke might be Jason’s favorite at the moment.)

“Can’t be that,” Tim said, ignoring Duke’s comment about their mental stability with practiced ease. “I took a sample core all the way to the center. It really is just a basket with bathbombs and some chocolate.”

“Sweet,” Stephanie said as she made a lunge for the box of chocolates. Jason quickly pulled the basket and its contents out of reach.

“Back off, it’s my gift,” Jason said with a snarl that was only half for show. As much as he had calmed back down, he still felt tense— like there was a heavy weight in the center of his chest.

Damian gave him a wholly unimpressed look. “Why? Do you deserve it for, and I quote, not disemboweling someone?”

“I mean, I haven’t,” Jason said with a shrug as he grabbed his helmet; the gift basket was tucked securely under the other arm.

“Jason, we have to talk about this,” Bruce said in that tone of his; the one that implied Jason was making a stupid mistake. The one he always seemed to have—

Jason shook the thoughts away. He didn’t need to tempt the Pit today by doing down that path. He could feel that green tinged anger lurking on the edge of his mind already. He kept heading to his bike. If he got out of here, the temptation to pick a fight would go away. He knew that. He just had to make the choice to walk away from the fight. “Fuck no. Look. I’ll check my system and put up new cameras or some shit, okay?”

The footage on every camera he had up around the exterior of his apartment had either shown nothing at all or had glitched out into a fuzz of static. There had been someone at his door— a slight person, dark clothing— but that's as much detail as they could get. Which was, sure, concerning, but seemed like no harm no foul. (Not that the rest of the family agreed with that assessment.)

“I’ll bring over some better cameras in a few days and check through your system,” Tim said, already turning his attention to the task.

Jason didn’t want that.

He didn’t want anyone else messing with his system. But he was starting to understand that having his hands on the information of his family was Tim’s way of showing he cared. Jason hated it, but he understood it, so he’d allow it. He owed Tim more than a little acceptance. He owed Tim so much.

“Sure thing, Replacement.”

-----

Jason spent hours going over every inch of his place when he returned. None of the traps or markers had been triggered to show that anyone had actually come inside his space. The feeling he had experienced at dinner hadn’t come back. All that he felt was a slight unease and that was easy enough to dismiss as lingering feelings from earlier in the day. It wasn’t any worse than a Pit hangover.

Finally, satisfied that his place was secure, Jason sank down onto his couch with a huff of air.

The gift basket mocked him from where it sat on the coffee table. He’d dumped it there when he first came in, ignoring the odd present in favor of making sure that his place was safe. It would have been convenient for someone to break in and set up a trap while they were off dealing with the basket, but no one had. Now both him and the Pit were settled and the basket was still there.

Who the fuck gave bathbombs for not being disemboweled?

Leaning forward, arms resting on his knees, Jason plucked out the card. It was a simple thing, just a bit of cream cardstock in a little envelope. No logo or distinguishing features. The writing was a scrawled, half cursive— just this side of legible. Distinctive, but not any handwriting that Jason recognized. It wasn’t signed.

That would have been too easy.

That was the real issue of it all, wasn’t it? Who would leave a note like that for him? Jason Todd shouldn’t be getting a note like that. Red Hood, sure, he could understand getting such a message. He hated it a little, now that he was further away from the worst of the Pit Rage, but he got it. But him as Jason? Reclusive, miraculously returned son of Bruce Wayne? Jason shouldn’t have anyone afraid of him like that.

It spoke to someone knowing of his life as vigilante turned crime boss turned vigilante again, and that was dangerous. It was dangerous for him. It was dangerous for his family. It was dangerous for Crime Alley.

It was just another fucking thing he had to deal with. As if it wasn’t enough to having only recently, officially, returned to the living. There was also the work he was trying to do as Red Hood, the work he was trying to do for Crime Alley as Jason, and the effort of trying to spend more time with his family (preferably without stabbing anyone). Now he had this mystery too.

Maybe the bathbombs actually were a good gift and didn’t that idea make him scowl. When was the last time he’d actually taken some time to just relax? It had to be a while with the size that his ‘to read’ pile had grown to was any indication.

He could use one. They were just bathbombs.

He could run a warm bath, relax, crack open a book, eat some chocolate… and just try not to worry for a bit. Nothing was going to be solved tonight. Bruce had ordered him off patrol— which normally wouldn’t stop him, but Cass had given him big worried eyes too. There were no other pressing matters. His apartment was secure…

Fuck it. He grabbed the little basket and headed to the bathroom.

Time for some self care.

-----

AN: We'll likely get a Danny scene to cap chapter 2 off, but I though this was a nice little bundle to post! And my poor migraine is going to get even worse with the Artic front so wanted to get this posted~

Thank you all for such a lovely response on the other parts! This will be going up on ao3, but I want to get at least three chapters done first to get a little buffer. Everyone who asked should be in the tag list (as of yesterday), but if I missed you, or you want to be added, just let me know in the replies!

Stay delightful my darlings!

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #red hood #jason todd #batfamily #like betta fish do

2K notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 7 months ago

Note

I always see people who have never been antis, talking about/questioning how some antis even ARE antis when you look at their taste in media - ie the ever famous joke of "Hannigram is #problematique" "but it's a show where he eats people" or whatever.

I thought I'd weigh in as someone who could, hypothetically, be called an ex-anti (which, thankfully, nothing ever really came out of it - it was just very 2014 keyboardwarrior-esque behavior of me being a chronically online young adult who would share posts in a group chat making fun of certain shippers, or reblog posts about how 50shades is The Most Problematic Media Ever to exist -- basically I was an anti with anti-lines of thoughts, but i never, like, a ran a Shipping Discourse Blog or whatever)

For me, personally, it was a few different things. I can now see how it's incredibly hypocritical that teenaged me shipped Light/L, while still thinking that Dramione was Bad And Abusive. It ultimately boiled down to a) being pretentious, and b) just not understanding media or what proshippers REALLY believed, with a side of c) not realizing that nuance exists. like i was pretty late to join tumblr, I think I immigrated here during PEAK "yourfaveisproblematic" era which definitely did have an impact on my opinions and my tastes.

to elaborate, a.) being pretentious. i mean this one just kinda goes without saying. "I engage in media in a way more intellectual way than you do, don't you know that? You're a filthy and disgusting person who writes Snape/Hermione because you're an actually disgusting pedophile IRL who would probably date your own student that you're abusing if you could. Meanwhile, I'm a very smart, good, and pure person. When I read Uncle Vernon/Harry, I'm doing it in a G-d honoring whump way that clearly condemns abuse, incest, and rape. Unlike YOU who only writes harmful stuff as a way to get people off :/"

(as an aside, i think this line of thinking will ALWAYS be present in fandom and popculture in some way, sadly. ie the recent trend of people hating on booktok bc the books are 'trashy' and how these porn addicts should read real classic literature instead.)

as for b.), not understanding media - i cannot emphasize enough that i was GENUINELY stupid and disconnected enough to think that proshippers REALLY WERE pro-All Of The Degenerate Dead Doves That They Wrote.

why did i feel this way? why did i understand that Lolita clearly isnt pro-pedophilia, but for some reason i thought that someone shipping weecest was? well, first of all, i think that fanfiction is (generally) seen as Less Serious than classic literature, and fandom is a fun place, so i guess i somehow thought that every fanfic/fanartist who wrote Problematic Things, especially Problematic Things that they portrayed as Sexy, really DID enjoy the thought of that Actually Happening To Real People.

and i think THIS is the bulk of why antis ARE antis. i'm not calling them all stupid - i do think BEING an anti is stupid, but at the same time, there are people who are truly smart and good-intended people who just have some really off color opinions about, like, homestuck ships or whatever. Lawlight is okay because notebooks that kill people don't exist so it's IMPOSSIBLE for the Harmful Aspects of Light/L to be romanticized! but schoolyard prejudiced bullies DO exist and are a REAL problem so Drarry is BAD (*truly completely unaware of the fact that there's 'realistic' aspects of the Light/L dynamic and 'unrealistic' aspects of Drarry - such as, for example, Hogwarts arguably being even MORE of a fantasy setting than DN is.*) I know that media literacy is the hot buzzword of the year to throw around in 2024, but, like, i really did not have media literacy.

as for c.), not realizing nuance exists - ok "nuance" might not be the best word here, but i dont know how else to describe it. like, each time ive typed the word "problematic" out in this ask, i've done so in a very tongue in cheek/ironic/retroactive way, but, like, those posts about how Everything Is Problematic, Including Your Fave ARE true. and i didn't like the fact that my favorite media or favorite person might've Made A Mistake! i need to Talk About Its Issues Because I'm So Betrayed That My Dear Sweet Comfort Media Would Do This To Me. I Need To Prove I Clearly Condemn It.

like, i legit morally could not justify reblogging a twilight post without adding in the tags '#this is my guilty pleasure it sucks that the books were so racist though' or whatever. Most people were lucky enough to avoid that line of thinking, but there was an actual group of people who felt a genuine need to virtue signal all the time, partly bc, hey, they WERE passionate about talking abt #issues in media, but also bc of a subconscious fear of If You Reblog A Singular Piece Of Hetalia Fanart, You're Literally A Nazi And Will Get A Callout Post Written About You.

and during all of this i was at the tail end of my high school experience (yes i know im younger than most of your audience, ha). i was going through A Lot emotionally, going through a lot of life changes, and lived in a very . . . interesting household/place where i couldn't do ACTUAL good in the world that i was passionate about. so to make up for the fact that i was genuinely in no place to do legit activism, clearly i had to save the gay community by arguing about johnlock queerbaiting or whatever.

^ and honestly i do think that is the position of most antis. theyre isolated and cant seem to do Enough in the Real Scary World so they have to resort to talking about how bad of a person someone is for "shipping abuse", bc theyre not in a situation where they could, for example, ACTUALLY fight the good fight to end abuse or raise awareness for it.

There was way more to it and way more that I could say, if I wanted to, but this post is long enough as it is and probably doesn't make much sense.

I feel bad for antis, honestly, or at least the ones who are antis in the way I used to be.

Oh yes, passionate young fools who think they can at least fix the internet if not their lives make up most of the cannon fodder. Some of the ringleaders are just mini dictators and wannabe cult leaders, but most anti-leaning types are just traumatized or clueless, even a lot of the ones who do serious damage and don't just mock shit in private with their friends.

127 notes · View notes

sarafinamk · 7 months ago

Text

Fallen Angel (Smiling Critters Space Riders AU Reader Insert) Part 4

Summary: Bobby has been dealing with a lot of guilt ever since you went into rehab. Now that you're finally getting released, she's determined to make it up to you.

Two chapters in one day! Let's go! Check out the other parts here. The Smiling Critters Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline. Enjoy!

TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Injury, Trauma, Death mentions, Mentions of assassination attempts, Religious Trauma, Religious Imagery and Symbolism, Religious Cults, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Self harm Attempt, Mention of Suicide Attempt, Mental Health Issues, Brief Anxiety Attack, Slight cursing, LOTS of negative thoughts, Implied Abuse, Conditioning

----------

Bobby woke up and shot herself out of bed before her alarm could finish its first beep. She puts on her uniform, goes through her usual routine, and finishes by the time everyone else wake up. The other riders exchange worried glances amongst each other but they say nothing to Bobby.

Today’s the day the riders pick you up from the treatment center so you can continue to serve your sentence with them. Sure, serving your sentence in the same station where they kept the other prisoners would seem like the obvious choice, if you were any other enemy to the galaxy, that is. But the fact is, you’re not, and Commander Ludwig isn’t sure just how many more break-ins he and the medical staff are able to handle.

Of course, word would get around that the Prototype’s archangel was being confined at HQ’s treatment center. To no one’s surprise, anyone with a vendetta and a craving for bloodshed, would try to find you and your cell. You never got hurt, at least. No extra security measures are enough to dissuade them it seems.

Bobby gets herself situated in the cockpit, glancing back and forth between the starry scenery, the clock on the wall, and the navigation tab open in front of Dogday. She sighs while absent-mindedly bouncing her leg hard enough to turn the couch into a massage chair.

“Are you sure you want to come with us, Bobby?” Dogday’s concerned voice pulls her out of her thoughts. “It’s okay if you want to stay behind while we get (Y/n). There’s no pressure. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Bobby gives her best reassuring, confident smile.

“Dogday, I appreciate your concern, but I can’t avoid (Y/n) forever. I have to face them eventually. And I really do want to see them.”

There is a brief moment of silence before Dogday sighs, nods, and goes back to piloting the ship. Bobby goes back to glancing out the window, her smile quickly disappearing.

She didn’t lie. She really wanted to visit you. Just once. Everyone else has visited you at least a few times, but Bobby couldn’t even find the courage to visit you after what happened in your old prison cell. None of her teammates held it against her, but she sure as heck did. She's a trained medic for crying out loud! She shouldn't have been acting hysterical the way she was, especially when you needed her the most. She's dealt with blood and injuries before. She's dealt with a few mentally unstable cultists during her time as a Space Rider. She's even helped out people in similar situations like you before.

No!

She has to remember that she may not have been much help during such a critical moment, but help came to you on time. You’re surrounded by trained medics and from what the other riders have told her, you’ve been recovering well in the treatment center. That's what matters!

Part of her, however, still holds onto the fear that if she visited your cell, she would find you all bloody and on the edge of death again. Some nights, she would have nightmares about that.

What if it happens today?

Soon enough, they arrive at the Space Station. Straightening her uniform and taking a deep breath, Bobby follows Dogday into the station. Thankfully, the treatment center was close to the hangars. It made the transporting of the injured easier for everyone.

The pair stop at the entrance. Dogday looks back at Bobby with a reassuring smile, gesturing back to the hangars. Bobby returns the smile, more sincere and determined this time. She shakes her head and stares at the neon sign above the entrance. She is going to see you today and she will not back down.

Not this time nor any time going forward.

Dogday nods in understanding, and the pair make their way inside. They check in and wait which didn't take long. Dogday sees you first, and greets you warmly. Bobby turns to where her captain was looking and there you were.

You walk out the hallway with two riders and a doctor. Bobby frowns upon seeing the handcuffs on you. She hated the idea of you being locked in a cell while needing to be hospitalized. Sure, you’ve done terrible things, and you served a terrible being, but you must’ve had a good reason. Call her crazy but she believes there is some good in you.

The riders hand Bobby your bag and stand at attention while the doctor and Dogday discuss your treatment plan going forward. Bobby tries to pay attention, but finds herself too busy staring at you. In her defense, how can she not? She's seeing you for the first time in six months.

She was ACTUALLY seeing you without any bandages, bruises, cuts, or that awful mask you always wore. For the first time, Bobby is seeing the real you, the one everyone called the Archangel. Her teammates were right about you. Not only do you look healthier, but you just look...

Beautiful.

Like...

REALLY beautiful.

You glance her way, and she smiles and waves (albeit very awkwardly). You nod in her direction and turn your focus back to the conversation between Dogday and the doctor.

Oh god, this is awkward.

After a brief exchange of thank you's and goodbyes from both sides, Bobby and Dogday quickly escort you back to the ship.

----------

You internally breathe a sigh of relief the moment you entered the Space Riders’ ship. You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle all those eyes glancing your way. You were waiting for someone to come out of the shadows some way and finish you off just like those intruders that try to break into your cell.

Now that thought made you tense up again despite it being only you and the eight Space Riders in this ship. You couldn't sense any other energies in the ship, but that didn't ease your racing mind one bit. Who knows what the Space Riders will do to you now that they are not forced to follow social protocols?

You still have those damn power mufflers on you. Sure, that shouldn't stop you from fighting, but not only are you surrounded by four riders who have celestial powers, but you're surrounded by four non-celestial riders who, unfortunately, handle themselves well in combat. Unless you can outsmart all eight of them and break your power mufflers in the process, you don't see yourself winning this fight. It's best to be smart about all this.

"Okay, so, first things first, welcome back, (Y/n). We're happy that you're here with us," the Captain begins while clasping his hands together, making you stand straight at full attention. "It's okay, relax. It's just introductions. Nothing formal."

You're not sure if this is supposed to be a test or not, but you would rather not risk failing it when you just got here. You continue to stand at full attention, waiting for the Captain to continue. The Captain sighs, and clears his throat before continuing

"Anyways, I know there's a lot to do and discuss, and you probably have some questions. Don't worry, we'll get to that in time. But since this is your first day back, I think it would be best to try and get you settled in. I can show you where you'll be staying and-"

"Actually," interrupted Bobby, "I can show (Y/n) where they'll be staying."

"Are you sure?" the Captain asks with hesitation in his voice.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure."

The only response she is met with is silence. You wait for something to happen: an argument, physical discipline, a speech, or a fair sentence. You never saw the Captain incorporate the type of punishments that the Prototype did.

At least in public anyways.

But now that he is no longer in the public eye, you're not sure if you're ready to witness the truth for the first time, but you prepare yourself for it anyways. Instead, to your surprise, the first thing the Captain does is take the handcuffs off you, but not the power mufflers.

"Okay, if you're sure."

Bobby cheerfully thanks the Captain and escorts you to the direction of the prison cells. You reach the entrance leading to the prison cells, but Bobby just... passes it. Did she not pay attention to where she was going? Why is she passing it?

You want to ask, but you force yourself to keep quiet. She could be looking to punish you for making her suffer with your selfishness. That’s why she never visited you during your rehabilitation. Instead, she leads you to the riders’ sleeping quarters and into one sleeping quarter that you know was never occupied. All the furniture arranged was as you remember it from previous battles except the bed is now neatly made.

“Here we are. Your new room. It’s not much, but I think it’ll be a nice change of environment for you after being hospitalized for almost a year.”

Not much? This is a lot more than what you see in the sleeping quarters back home. This is much more than the cells you were in for the last several months. If this isn’t “much” to the heretics, then what does having a lot look like to them?

“Crafty and I made some clothes for you. She noticed you like having your head covered, so we made you a lot of hoodies.”

You silently take in every little detail of the room.

“This is all mine?”

“Yes, it is. We weren’t sure how you wanted your room decorated, but we’ll figure that out over time.” Why would it matter how you wanted to decorate this room? At least the Space Riders are giving you, their prisoner, one in the first place. It’s selfish to ask for more than what you deserve. “Picky is making a special dinner to celebrate your recovery and coming back. I’ll come get you when it’s ready. I’ll leave you alone to get settled.” Bobby’s voice cuts off your thoughts, even when you don’t say anything. She smiles and makes her way to the door.

“Thank you,” you say suddenly. Bobby stops dead, turns to you slowly. Her eyes widen.

“What did you say?”

You clear your throat and straighten yourself up. “Considering the fact I’m your prisoner, this is a very generous accommodation.”

Bobby continues to stare at you, and you're questioning if you said the wrong thing already. Not even one hour into your return and you’re already making mistakes. Maybe she’ll change her mind and decide a cell is a more fitting place, but instead of her screaming, or silence and storming away from you, she smiles. “You're not our prisoner here, (Y/n). You're our guest. We want to help you get better. I’m just happy that you’re here with us.”

With that, you are left alone. You hastily dig into your bag which Bobby must have placed in the on the dresser. Thankfully, your journal and the books given to you by Bubba were still there.

You pull one of the drawers and they were full of very thick long-sleeved shirts with hoods. “Hoodies” as Bobby called them. But… which one are you supposed to wear? Bobby never specified which one was mandatory for you, and you couldn’t just ask. You would get punished for not knowing when it should be obvious. You grip the skin of your forearm tightly.

No.

No, no.

No, no, no.

Fight back the temptation to see red! You can’t risk being sent back again. Just take some deep breaths.

In…

Hold…

Out…

Repeat.

Just like the healers taught you. Soon enough, your grip loosens and thankfully, there was no sign of red.

You look back at the drawer of “hoodies.” Since the Space Riders wear white while off duty, then perhaps the white one would be your safest choice. You sigh, hoping that line of reasoning will hold true during mealtime. You relax more when the warmth and softness cover you. The best part was that hood covered your head. It was no mask, but it was better than having your entire head exposed. You were just relieved you no longer had to rely on those infirmary blankets to keep your body and head covered. At least there were no cameras installed in your accommodation… to your knowledge.

Since you had no orders given until mealtime, you decided to explore more of the room. Maybe if you are good, then living as a prisoner of the heretics won’t be so terrible. Maybe you will be able to survive Hell after all.

----------

Stay tuned for the next part "Burn Bright Until You Burn Out"

112 notes · View notes

strong-with-the-sarcasm · 1 year ago

Text

Part 13- goddamn when you're young

"My heart plays the songs of my lost years. My scars are a church for my old fears. My body's a wreck, but I don't care, I swear. So say a prayer, gotta lift me up, goddamn when you're young in America." -Young In America by Barns Courtney

Masterlist Part 12

Jazz felt the shockwave of the bomb seconds before the sound reached them. Concussive, lethal, far too close as Jazz pushed Jason to the ground, trying to shield him with her body. It was instinct to protect her loved ones, her body was near indestructible after all.

Chunks of wall and metal rained down on them, striking Jazz in the back but not forcing her down just yet, making sure to keep Jason tucked as far under her as possible and cradling his head. The debris hurt but ultimately couldn’t harm her, but they were stuck under until it was safe to move.

“Jason?” Jazz murmured, hearing still sensitive from the shockwave. He was still under her, shallow breaths against her sternum proof he was alive, but Jazz needed to hear his voice.

“Jason, talk to me.” She tried again, this time shuffling a bit to get some debris off her spine that was uncomfortable.

She felt him speak against her, “Jazz.” His speech was slurred so her name came out more like ‘ass’, funny it would be in any other moment, but not now that she felt like one for not being able to protect her boyfriend from what killed him previously. He wasn’t alone this time, Jazz was here and she wasn’t going to let go until she absolutely had to.

“It’s ok, Jay, I got you.” She promised, “We have to move.” Time was running out, just like her faith in this shitty apartment to hold itself together after such a blast. She had to get them both out of here, but-

Her train of thought was interrupted by something warm on her thigh. Jazz didn’t need to guess what it was from the smell alone.

Blood.

It wasn’t hers, no it had the tinge of corrupted ecto to it and held Jason’s scent just on the surface.

Fuck, he’d been hurt.

Jazz cursed out loud and shifted again, forcing debris away from the two of them so she could summon her sword. It was dangerous to rip open a portal from below, but she had no other choice. Thankfully, she was skilled enough to create a directional difference on the other side, so no debris would fall on them and they themselves wouldn’t have to plummet from above.

Channeling her energy towards her hand, Jazz released her hold on Jason’s head as she felt the cool metal of her sword handle settle into her palm, vibrating slightly from being called forth.

Envisioning the Far Frozen, her sword vibrated more strongly in acceptance before she imagined where she wanted the portal and with far more effort that she should have expended, Jazz thrusted her sword into the floor beneath them.

Her beautiful sword, her Faithkeeper, hummed as the fabric of reality was torn asunder and allowed for the Infinite Realms to bleed through, Jazz held her breath as Jason’s muffled scream echoed in her chest as they sunk through her portal to be embraced by winter frost.

It wasn’t easy to let Jason be taken from her grasp, even if it was Frostbite himself who cradled her lover to his soft fur. The Yeti had come bounding across the snow to her side, ready to fight an army but only to be greeted by Jazz’s teary face as she cradled the love of her life to her chest.

Frostbite didn’t say anything as he brought them both back to the tribe.

Jazz refused to leave Jason’s side even as he was stitched up, gently carding a shaking hand through his dark hair, wanting nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and hide him from the world. He had been hurt in her apartment, on her watch, in her haunt. It was unacceptable.

Danny would no doubt be investigating the explosion that had occurred in his haunt, even if Jazz’s tear in reality hadn’t alerted him to the fact that something was very wrong. She hadn’t tasted any corrupted ectoplasm in the air, which the GIW unknowingly used in their weapons post-Fenton death and lack of access to the Realms, but still didn’t eliminate them as suspects.

The question was- Why? If Jazz could answer that then she’d eventually find the culprit and properly deal with them.

(Eviscerate them.)

But not right now, Jason was more important than murder getting on the trail of whoever was idiotic enough to hurt the man she loved.

By the time Jason woke up, Jazz had zero doubts she would have to come clean about everything spooky going on.

His blue eyes were narrowed In contemplation as he digested her words, her explanation of where they were, what happened, why they were there and so on.

He didn’t seem angry, which she took as a good sign.

“So I’m a Revenant.” The word sounded wrong in the air between them, bitter with the memory of death, his death.

“You were, but now-“

He cut her off, “I’m a Liminal.”

Jazz nodded, softly rubbing her thumb over his hand she held in her own, comforted by the rhythm of his pulse against her fingers.

“And you’re like me?” It was a question, one of hope that Jason wasn’t alone, that someone would understand.

“Yes, I’m a liminal too.” They had time to get into the finer details of their respective liminality, Proto-Cores and all. For right now, the basics were enough.

Jason fixed his gaze back on her, searching her features for something, something he clearly found much to her bewilderment, “You’re Regent.”

It was spoken with awe and sadness. Jason knew what she had done to the Fentons, to her proginators, but he still wasn’t angry.

She didn’t answer him with words, only lifting his hand to her lips to leave a kiss on his palm. Many things would need to be discussed later, but for now they had this moment to rest.

Frostbite allowed them to stay in the healing tent for a day cycle, content with Jason’s vitals and ecto-levels left the room, but not before sparing Jazz a knowing look as she held fast to her boyfriend. Yes, the old Yeti knew the answers to several questions of hers and it only served to further tie the two liminals together.

Jason, for his part, was calm and resting peacefully despite how his temperature began to fluctuate every so often, not as bad as when he’d first been brought to the Realms though. Further proof that he was settling in well as a Proto-core liminal, but Jasmine still worried every time a shiver ran through him. She didn’t want to invade his space without his consent, especially now that it wasn’t life threatening enough that she had to use her own Proto-core heat, but she still wanted nothing more than to curl into his chest and block out the world.

“Jazz….” Jason mumbled, drawing the Regent back to her love. He was somewhat conscious again, but still ready to be dragged back under.

“Yeah, Jay?” Jasmine responded, hand squeezing his own lightly where she had yet to let go.

Her love didn’t answer, lifting up his opposite arm from the one she held captive and Jazz took the initiative embarrassingly quick to climb over and settle against his side in a familiar fashion as they would on her bed.

(Jazz loved the smell of him on her sheets.)

(Gunpowder, petrichor and something uniquely Jason.)

“‘M sorry, Jay.” The red head mumbled, head resting against his chest right above the steady beat of his heart. There were many things she had to apologize for in this lifetime (and never would), but for Jason she felt they were necessary. He’d been nothing but good to her, watching over her as she walked home late at night, softly reading to her by lamplight, cooking her favorite food… he was her perfect match.

Her soulmate.

Despite how bad she wanted to mock the overused cliche, Jazz could not dispute its validity at any angle other than sheer audacity of it happening to her of all people.

(The one lost in the dark.)

Perhaps it was meant to be, she mused, with her proclivity towards the darkness of mind and soul that her other half would possess a proto-core of shadows. The same ones that hid him, aided him and now gave him life in a completely ironic sense.

(Not dead.)

(One foot in the grave.)

(Cat in a box.)

(What are we today?)

“No.” Jason rumbled underneath her ear in the same baritone she loved to hear. He didn’t say anything more, so Jazz left him to fall back asleep. They would talk more later anyways.

For now, Jazz was left to her thoughts.

Danny’d been about to take a sip of his milkshake when the ripple of sheer terror came over him, body and core. One that he’d only felt when Amity was pulled into the Realms, when his people were hurt and terrified.

Jazz.

He didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Signal, the Sunshine child startled by Danny’s sudden departure- no he literally started sprinting in the direction of his haunt, where Jazz should be, not even dropping his milkshake as he ran. The meta was probably going to follow him but he wasn’t all that concerned, hell he’d take Sunshine over Stabby any day… but Jazz!

Jazz was in trouble!

The ripple was her effect on his core, a side effect of a portal being opened within the bounds of his haunt. Usually he didn’t really pay attention to it, other than a passing thought that she was back home safe, but terror at the same time? No. Jazz was in trouble and he needed to be there now.

(And he fucking forgot he could fly. )

Tossing his milkshake over his shoulder to where the meta was almost about to grab him by the arm, Danny ducked out of sight and transformed into his ghostly alter, rings of light barely making a complete pass before he was off in the air.

He left a very baffled daylight hero, covered in boo-berry delight, watching him go.

Duke, not for the first time, had the thought of- Add that to the list of ‘must never let B find out’.

Prime adoption bait Danny Nightingale was prime bat bait because he was a vigilante already.

He’d seen the strange shadow shapes around the teenager ever since they’d first met on a random Gotham rooftop, with Danny lounging on a lawn chair with coffee and a look that screamed he wished for the sweet release of death, but he’d put it down to ‘meta-in-hiding’ and closed the case.

(Not before getting the background on the kid thanks to Oracle.)

It wasn’t the first time his ghost sight had outed a meta and Duke was positive it wouldn’t be the last, but Danny had been the first to have an overlay rather than an aura. Others, metas included, had silhouettes of themselves of colors associated with them as a being. Batman was charcoal grey, Jason was red, Tim was brown and Duke was yellow. Rarely had he’d seen an overlay of something else, something other and familiar to the hero.

Standing over Danny’s shoulder, ever still and watchful with its green, green gaze fixed unflinching forwards was a King.

(A Phantom King.)

Skin tinted light blue as if suffering hypothermia, stark white hair braided across one shoulder with several glass beads tied into the strands that clinked with every shift Danny made in an echo of wind chimes, sharp features set in a neutral expression as if frozen in place. Snowflakes dusted the light blue collar of a black cloak fastened at the collarbone with a shard of ice entrapping a green flame and galaxies lazily floating across the span of the cloak, though with every movement it parted to reveal a white shirt tucked haphazardly into black jeans.

The being wore a crown of green ice on its head that reflected the sunlight.

Duke felt in his bones that should he dare try anything against Danny that he would come face to face with the otherworldly being.

(Why did the being look like a victim of hypothermia?)

(Why was it attached to Danny?)

(And why did he just see a variation of it fly away?)

It wasn’t until Duke was about to fall asleep some hours later that the realization struck him about what he’d seen standing behind Danny.

He’d seen the future Phantom.

Phantom frosted over the smoldering embers of what had been his sister’s apartment building, the remnants clinging to a broken frame like a shambling corpse. He’d not been able to hear anyone in need, most importantly he couldn’t hear Jazz though. Her apartment was on the top floor with roof access, but it was empty of life forms much to his relief. Jazz had probably gotten out using a portal.

Phantom lingered for a few moments in the debris of his sister’s home, carefully sorting through for anything salvageable that couldn’t wait. Most of the shelves were furthest from the blast zone so Jazz’s books were going to be fine, though singed and ash coated alongside the contents of her closet, which included a hidden safe Phantom phased a hand through.

His hand touched something glass, thrumming with power underneath his fingers and familiar.

(Pure ecto.)

(What Jazz needs to remain alive.)

Phantom hurriedly retrieved the vials, shoving them into his chest for safekeeping before moving on towards where he suspects the bomb was placed.

It was odd.

He’d been expecting corroded remains of a cannablized Fenton explosive, the ones he’d been familiar with down in the lab, but this was plainly human for even a goopy ghouly ghosty like him to see.

Not a trace of corrupted ectoplasm either, a sure sign of GIW presence due to the nature of their technology. The GIW wouldn’t plant something like this for the hell of it right? It’s not ‘anti-ghost’ in the slightest!

Who else would target Jazz, the most ecto-contaminated being on Earth?

(Unless she wasn’t the target.)

Definitely human oriented explosive, timed and locked firmly into place with what looks to be a steel plate bolted into the floorboards, clearly meant to be left unattended for a long period of time. Delayed detonation.

(Explosives were never his strong suit.)

(But he’d learnt at the knee of Jack Fenton.)

(And so he knew many things he wished he didn’t.)

(What his beating heart looks like.)

(“-molecule by molecule!”)

This wasn’t meant for a liminal being, but for humans.

Either someone targeted Jazz without that bit of extra knowledge or she wasn’t the target.

(Sure looked like it though.)

(Right in the middle of the empty apartment next door.)

“I’m telling you, his tracker stopped working right there!”

Tim didn’t like going outside most days. The sun hurt his eyes and he hated being swarmed by people.

(Ugh, people.)

Yet, here he was, in the outernet with only sunglasses and a ball cap to ward off pesky reporters on his way to the last location of his most murderous sibling at the edge of said sibling’s territory.

(Tim hated Crime Alley with a vengeance.)

The Ridge wasn’t where he’d ever expect to find Jason, the older man preferring to remain in the Alley if he wasn’t wandering Gotham proper. The Ridge was neglected and crime ridden up to a few months previously, the vigilantes Phantom and Regent claimed the territory as their own to protect. It was kind of awe-inspiring to study the real-time data plummet with their presence, though the big Bat himself wasn’t pleased with openly active ‘Metas’ in his city despite their obvious positive influence.

Phantom was once a vigilante from Amity Park, Illinois, the town that claimed itself to be the most haunted place on Earth. It’s population was halved on its opinion of the ghost, almost split perfectly between generations on whether or not the teenager was a hero or the one controlling the attacking ghosts. With what Tim knew now thanks to the Ghost Files, he was of the firm belief that the vigilante was only defending his haunt from both ghost hunters and ghosts. Major Justice League level threats had been handled by Phantom almost single-handedly, though Batman had been livid to discover that someone had classified the distress calls from the small town as pranks.

(He’d listened to every single one.)

(There was nothing about them that screamed prank.)

(And no, they still hadn’t found who had committed such a fuck up.)

It was fortunate that Phantom was a Protector spirit with all the powers available to him, not to mention the grit and resilience he displayed in every major fight he threw himself into. Mad respect to the ghost boy, couldn’t have been easy.

(Though Tim could never unsee the death and rebirth of that same hero.)

(The scream echoes in his ears when he thinks too hard about it.)

Unfortunately for him, his thoughts screeched to a halt when he found the location he’d been sent to.

A burnt shell of an apartment building held together by Phantom’s ice, firefighters carefully searching for anyone left trapped inside, civilians loitering around like ants at a picnic. No one spared him more than a passing glance, but Tim still noted the weary gazes and tried to get information. No one could say anything more than an explosion happened, with Phantom following close behind to form Ice on the building in an effort to keep it intact, before the ghost kid entered himself and Phantom had yet to leave.

Jason was in the building when the explosion happened, but without a time to match the tracker read out to they wouldn’t know if he’d been killed in the blast, tracker affected by the shockwave or pinned down by debris.

“Hey babs, did Jason have a safe house here?” Tim asked, soft spoken into his phone so as to not be overheard.

Barbara didn’t answer, but Tim had a feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever she said next.

“…in a way?”

“You just answered a question with a question.” He accused, a bit of shock coloring his words. Barbara definitely knew something she wasn’t sharing.

“Jason might have… a girlfriend…”

“What.”

It came pouring out, “Its so cute, they’re so cute. He just adores her and she’s so sweet to him, I’ve never seen him smile so much and he’s so calm-“

“Woah, woah, slow down, Jason has a girlfriend?” If it wasn’t so concerning from his angle, the explosion wracked building in front of him, he would be cackling at the juicy blackmail as only a younger sibling can.

“Mhm, Jasmine Nightingale, twenty years old and applicant for Gotham University currently pending. Younger brother is Danny Nightingale who often talks to Signal whenever Duke crosses his path, obsessed with Space and science, currently attending Gotham Academy. Jasmine has a trust fund allowance from the estate of her presumed dead godfather, but that’s the only thing that stands out.”

(Jasmine and Jason.)

(Tim felt happy for his older brother despite their history.)

“This is her apartment, isn’t it.”

Tim didn’t need Barbara to answer that either, the silence spoke for itself.

“Well, shit.”

A/N: 3k words for you! @meditating-cat had suggested making the last section more dramatic, but I want to save that for the next part where I want Bruce to react. And now Jason finally knows the truth! I can't wait to write more about him as Hood with Regent out in Gotham.

Yes, beta read by @meditating-cat who also gave me some song suggestions. If you have any of your own please don't hesitate to message me! I love music and often use it for inspiration in my works.

In fact the very last part of this series was written first as a draft before I even made Regent!Jazz or Vigilante!Jazz, because of a Katy Perry song.

It has always been a Hardcover pairing though.

Thanks for reading!

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #jazz fenton #dc x dp crossover #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #Tim: He has a girlfriend?#Barbara: THEY ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER #Of course Oracle knows about Jazz #But Jason made her swear not to tell anyone until he was ready for Jazz to meet the Batfam #but now Jason is in the know about Jazz and Danny!#Yes beta read we live like Jason Todd!#Jazz is gonna have the Batgirls give her a shovel talk #Danny loves his milkshakes #I couldn't resist the pun

193 notes · View notes