#the backstory really did hit hard

[wanderershu]

I think what's really sad is that Zed Crossman most likely loved Alver's mother a lot (I mean, it is very heavily implied) but all Alver would ever remember is the things he faced during his childhood before finally gaining the title of crown prince and even then, he had to face a lot of battles in order to keep his position.

He doesn't have a memory of a loving father or of a man who loved his mother. Hence why the interaction between the father and son duo before book 1's end was really bittersweet.

[electric-plants]

slight hsr spoilers but—

they might as well have just impaled me on a stake

[rooniearts]

Pitayaverse Asks............ TWO!

I once again have a good handful of asks regarding Pitayaverse, so here goes another post! :'D This time around there's about 29 asks I'll be answering! Enjoy <3

Silver's fine! His fur is just darkening with age :] Think of it like how a Siamese cat's fur works - he starts out looking almost fully white, but his limbs and face slowly darkens over time.

REAL,,, petition to let Tails hit his brother with hammers

@dahliacloud

Oh yes, he resents him deeply. He had no part in any of this, but still slowly but surely ended up with all of Sonic's responsibilities. But by far the worst part for him is seeing how much it all affects this tiny little baby girl. THAT is what truly infuriates him.

It's come to my attention that this ask is probably about his Archie backstory, which I unfortunately don't know much about and so isn't canon to the AU ;v; I'm going with the vague idea that they don't have parents for whatever reason and had to grow up alone together

But in that case, I still like to think it has a part to play, yeah. Tails knows how hard it is to grow up without a parent, and he knows Sonic does too, so he can't comprehend why he isn't trying harder to give this kid that love and stability.

@lowkeuu

LMAOOO idek how that would work with a fox! Maybe his fur thins? Idk :'D but he absolutely does start growing grey hairs pretty young

Oh, yeah. Having the Kind Patient Sweet one of the group snap and pop the fuck off on someone is scary every time it happens. All of them, Shadow included, would definitely be taken aback at the very least.

If I do end up giving them a kid, then this is absolutely the way I'd go with it. I can't let my boy go through even more turmoil in this AU, he's had more than enough :')

AWW LOL, see I like this take on it. That's very cute and I think he would just actually volunteer to take them in at that point too :D

[Referring to this post]

She does, but calling them that is a habit she picked up from Tails. Sonic and Knuckles just only referred to themselves and eachother as "dad," so when she'd talk to Tails about them he'd ask her to specify whether she meant "Sonic-dad" or "Knuckles-dad." Eventually she just started using those terms every time she spoke to or about them!

As Pitaya grows up, Knuckles graduates from "Knuckles-dad" to just "dad", but she eventually just starts calling Sonic by his name. Sonic doesn't really mind this, except for the few times that Knuckles gets to hold it over his head

HEHEHE loving all this Pitaya hype from y'all!! Thank you and yes, she deserves the world <3

YESSS! It's so important to me that she grows up to be happy. Maybe not well adjusted, but she's got endless determination and is not afraid to speak her mind!

[Referring to this post]

I mean, it's part of why. His actions didn't exactly do much to alleviate her doubts, either.

@your-local-cattus-enjoyer

The master post is right here! There may be a few stray asks that aren't listed, but they should still be under the tag

The basic gist of it is that he was just really neglectful. He was barely there, and when he was, it was often only a matter of time before he and Knuckles started fighting. As an adult, she's also really upset that he let Tails take over all the heavy lifting for him when he was still just a kid too.

Once in a while! Usually whenever both Knuckles and Tails are preoccupied for whatever reason. All their stories of clever sleuthing and high-stakes tussles is what made her want to be a detective one day :]

And yes, actually, she did! Her and Echo, and occasionally Psi and Alloy, end up forming their own New Chaotix Detectives group! They just aren't nearly as active as Vector, Espio and Charmy were :')

LOL, for sure! She loooves her cool uncles Vector, Espio and Charmy. She knows they've always got her back <3

Mighty USED to be in the cool uncle camp, but absolutely not anymore. That went out the window the second he got with Sonic. She does love Knuckles, but she's had her ups and downs with him. Ray she just doesn't really know at all, he just goes in the resentment bin by association :'D

That's so true actually,,,, my obvious Chaotix bias is showing :'D

But hmm, that's a good question. If they were to end up together, I think they probably wouldn't have kids, no. I like to imagine they'd be the type of couple who live seperately and just visit eachother frequently, and not like married with kids.

@inkmaams

Their go-to babysitter list is very short because Silver gets very very paranoid over them :'D It consists of Blaze&Amy and Vector ONLY. And it took Espio AGES to convince Silver to let Vector take care of them in the first place

[Referring to this post]

Yup :') He was probably not gonna tell them about any of that, but alas he and Espio spawned Little Mr. Thought Police so now he has no choice but to explain himself </3

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Maybe not robots, but in theory, I guess he probably could read aliens' minds. I was mostly referring to humans/mobians, but there's no reason he couldn't try on other sentient organic beings. However, I feel like they may end up being incomprehensible noise to him because of how differently an alien's brain would work to his own

As for when he's in meltdown mode and can hear everyone all at once, no, he can't hear everyone in the universe, just those that are within a certain radius. Think of it as like whatever a normal hearing range would be, just not obstructed by walls.

Yes! Espio and Silver are married and besides one or two blow-ups, they happily stay that way. And Sonic and Mighty are at the very least life partners, whether they get married or not (I haven't yet decided lol)

Besides them, Blaze and Amy are also married! And Knuckles and Rouge too eventually :]

LMAO, Sonic WISHES. But nay, Mighty had to go and be a spoilsport and put a rule against backwards names. Rude of him tbh.

bro just can't stop spawning babies, what can I say🥀

@scribble0rat

LOL yeah the poor guy only had a vague idea of what he was signing up for. He had met Pitaya once in a while when she was young, and he knew Sonic had struggled with being there for her and that something happened between him and his friend group, but he didn't realize just how angry not only Pitaya was, but also Tails. He's using all those years of anger management to their fullest to tank this situation, I fear :'D

AND YESSS my boy needs more love <3 Us Mighty girlies have to stick together💪

AWWW that's actually such a cute thought experiment!!!!

It's hard to say, but I think they'd be relatively close. Maybe not joined at the hip, but they'd appreciate one another. They're both very similar in personality, it's just mostly that Echo is an introvert and Silver is a HUGE extrovert. The only conflict I can think of is that Echo is very much a copycat, and I think Silver might get annoyed with that pretty quick.

@marinette-sky

No, Shadow is Echo's only parent via cloning shenanigans. Sonic has nothing to do with her, thank goodness :'D

And thank you!! Much appreciated!!! <3

[graveyard-galaxy]

The way physical violence was focused on and upped in episode 3 really got me thinking specifically about how Ashley actually responds to it. Because, like…

When we start in the flashback at the start of the episode, we get given a clear picture of Renee’s stance on using it as disciplinary action, and for all that she is shitty and cruel and neglectful and spitefully manipulative in every scene that she’s in, one line that she won’t cross with the kids that she’s barely parenting is hitting them, and she tells Andrew as much.

Albeit aggressively, but what she’s saying here is obviously that she doesn’t believe it will make a difference, and that she won’t allow that to be how Andrew is forced to parent Ashley for her. To be fair, it is quite in line with her general methods of getting what she wants usually through manipulation, but it is, perhaps, a single redeeming factor about her parenting style, and represents a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

(It’s also possible indicative of her own childhood, which is interesting considering what her mother had to say about Douglas’s father in the Renee and Douglas vision, but I digress. This isn’t a Renee analysis or apologist post.)

But another piece of backstory that these flashbacks give us is that, perhaps unsurprisingly, Andrew and Ashley lived with their grandparents for a few years, before their actual parents. Renee was kicked out and had no money, so of course Douglas’s parents were left with Andrew and Ashley for an unknown amount of years. And their parenting style was… different. Seemingly not as neglectful as Renee’s, and I do think we get the sense that even if Douglas’s mother is just as much of a doormat as he is, and refuses to stand up to her husband (and given the wife beating mentions, is possibly not in the position to) she does genuinely care about her grandkids. So at their grandparents there’s… parenting. Maybe not good parenting, but still some parenting.

Interacting with the swing in the yard, Andrew recounts a short memory of how exactly his grandfather tended to respond to him (or presumably Ashley) doing anything wrong.

Woohoo, the kids aren’t abandoned, but they’re still blamed for things that aren’t their fault, and they’re beat for their troubles too!

But seriously, this obviously goes to show that before Andrew and Ashley moved in with their parents, physical violence was on the table against them as punishment. Andrew certainly remembers it, and we can speculate to what degree that informs his response to Renee about hitting Ashley later, but in particular, it’s Ashley I’d like to actually focus on here.

I don’t think it’s too big of a logical leap to assume that if Andrew was beaten by his grandfather, so was Ashley, given said grandfather’s horribly misogynistic views and obvious tendency towards beating his wife. And as unfortunate as it would be, I have to wonder… Did Ashley actually respond to this? In some way did she, or perhaps more likely Andrew, ever figure out how to behave to avoid it?

Looking forward to the present day, physical violence hasn’t been properly levelled against her in a while. Andrew supposedly attempts to choke her out in episode 1, but she notes that he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to actually choke her. And they get up in each other’s faces, and they yell, and she has a vision about him straight up killing her, but to some extent all of this is just not quite that far, or a true ultimatum. Never is Ashley actually faced with physical violence as any kind of punishment despite it being noted all the way back in episode 1 that Andrew has physical strength beyond her, as he is able to keep trying to kick the door down where she notes she doesn’t at all have the energy.

It’s a possibility in spirit. Andrew has the physical advantage and he could so easily use that against her, but it’s all presented as a game to Ashley in the first few episodes – one that she thinks Andrew isn’t actually trying at. She’s not even especially afraid of the prospect until the episode 2 Decay vision shows that he’s fully willing to kill her, and at some point in the near future too. That’s still an ultimatum more than it is a direct punishment, but it presents the idea to her that for all she thought he was playing around, no, Andrew would be willing to go there.

And then, this is followed through on in any Decay playthrough where Andrew is willing to grow a spine. He crosses the line that Renee set up, and that gives the moment a lot of narrative weight.

He slaps her, and her expression tells us a lot here. She wasn’t expecting something like this from him either, because of some combination of to not being a punishment she’s actually faced since childhood, Andrew never having gotten like this with her properly before, and how quick and sudden it is. This isn’t just a death threat or potentially far-off vision of him killing her; he’s actually done it now.

Their subsequent conversation is quite interesting too:

"What's with that look? You're the one who put violence on the table."

"...I-!! I didn't mean to............."

"Honestly it's all the same at this point."

Given the characters, we definitely shouldn’t necessarily take their words at face value, but even with that, I do think some part of Ashley is sincere here. When she held the cleaver to his neck, and when she offered a death threat, she still thought that she was just playing. This isn’t any different to Andrew taking his hands to her neck but not pressing hard enough to choke her, to her. She’s back-pedalling quite so hard to try and keep him, of course, this is Ashley we’re talking about… But I also don’t doubt that her sentiment is genuine. She didn’t exactly mean to.

And Andrew’s response tells us exactly why he’s so willing to cross that line. He just doesn’t care! Renee’s dead, so he doesn’t have to care about her rules and policies, and given how cynical he feels towards his life at this point, perhaps he wouldn’t care anyway. If this is a genuine way to get a response from Ashley, then he’ll try it, because for all that his mask of trying for normalcy is still up at this point, this is just between the two of them, where it!s always mattered the least, and as it is, that mask is quickly slipping.

I’d like to note this part of Ashley’s reaction as well, because, well… First we see that same shock as immediately after, but I’ve thought the exact same thing about that second frame, ever time I’ve seen it. With the background and the tears, isn’t this such a Leyley reaction? Such a Leyley expression?

Decay, especially Shots and Such which can follow on from this, is all about Ashley clinging to the Andy and Leyley dynamic to both of their detriments. It changes form as she feels she needs to adapt and find new ways to keep her Andy, but she’s constantly affirming whether or not she has Andy or Andrew because the violence and the hate all comes from Andrew to her, so when she’s continually trying to play Leyley, it keeps coming as a shock.

Andrew slaps her in the car, and she can only react as Leyley would. She never wants to be Ashley, because Ashley never fits into their games, and because Ashley has always been subconsciously rejected by Andrew. Being Ashley would mean facing what Andrew has done here rather than just making petty jokes about it for the rest of the episode and crying like I imagine she would have if her grandfather hit her.

But the cycle of violence only gets worse once Andrew continues to stew in apathy, and as perhaps he realises, that it does get a desired reaction from her. Ashley doesn’t respond in the long term to any threat that he throws, but she’s genuinely scared by the prospect of what him actually killing her means to her, and getting violent against her is a piece of that.

Part of what Shots and Such emphasises is that, even if it never works in the long run, Ashley does respond respond to violence, and that through out all of the ending, it remains Andrew’s way of fighting her.

This doesn’t exactly paint a happy picture of how Andrew regularly treats her. Er… Not that just about anything in Shots and Such is especially happy…

But it once again perpetuates the cycle of violence. Ashley gets actually violent now too, when she can. She makes sex painful for Andrew when she can, because that’s the degree of control she still has as someone who can’t a fight back when Andrew gets physical with her. She’s physically weaker, and with the bathroom lock torn down behind her, she has nowhere to hide. He beats her to short term avail to make himself feel better, and to keep her in line for tiny amount of time, and she gives that right back when she has her own opportunities.

And that’s all without actually talking about the scene of her getting beat.

Ashley’s a terrible person, but this scene is still very genuinely upsetting, because once again, something in her reaction comes across as genuine. She apologises profusely as her only way of even trying to get him to stop, and she goes back to the convenient story of being the scapegoat. She’s the problem, just like how he wants it to be. This doesn’t actually stop any of the heinous stuff she does to him after this point – if anything, it just makes her more desperate to try and exert control back when she gets the chance – but for a short while, it works. She shuts up and leaves him alone. She just makes cookies because that’s all that she can fathom that she’s good for.

Renee was right that hitting Ashley would never fix her behaviour. She was right after her grandfather had presumably done it to her as a young kid, and that was never the attention she needed, and she was right after Andrew crossed the line she set because she’s gone, and he has nothing left to lose. Hitting Ashley never teaches her any kind of actual lesson, save, of course, from how to act when people get violent with her.

All that’s learnt is how to behave in the short term to get the immediate beating to stop, and that’s enough for Andrew. Their push and pull has turned into violent fits against each other for control for just a short while, but he genuinely can’t care for it to be another way. After beating Ashley, he just once again reiterates that “I don’t care either way at this point” and that’s that.

It never fixes her behaviour, but it reinforces his. Just like his grandfather, Andrew becomes a wife beater, and he crosses Renee’s line for just a short moment of power and control. His spine is now like a gummy worm because he’s stuck in the easy cycle.

[joaeriz]

Paige x cheerleader reader, where they were both at UConn, and both ended up in Dallas? Paige as a wing and reader as a Dallas cowboys cheerleader. I wish I could write because I love this idea (also I loveddd the first fic🥳🥳)

Reporting Live From Dallas, TX!

Paige Bueckers x Fem!Cheerleader!Reader Long-Distance, Angst with Fluff, Slowish burn Reunion, Soft Smut, Established Relationship, Second Chances, UConn Backstory, Dallas Present, DCC Life, Emotional Breakup, Reunion Fic Word Count: ~1.5k

Summary: This request (which I was obsessed with writing) follows Paige Bueckers and her ex-girlfriend, a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, as their paths cross again after years apart. Both are chasing their dreams in Dallas, but when their past resurfaces, they’re forced to confront what they left behind. It’s a story about love, second chances, and finding your way back to each other. 💙✨

Authors note: HI ANONNNN i love this prompt so much, i really hope i did it justice!! Im so excited for the draft and i couldnt wait to post it till then so here u go:) im not ready for her to go to dallas:( she will be missed in cow town!! (AND THANK U FOR THE SUPPORT OF MY FIRST FIC ILY ILY ILY)

The first time Paige Bueckers saw you, you were halfway through a tumbling pass at the edge of the UConn football field, your ponytail catching the sunset like some kind of magic trick. She was a sophomore, walking back from the gym, earbuds in, hoodie up — until she caught sight of you. Short, graceful, grinning like you had the world in your pocket. You hit the final pose of your routine, and her heart just… stopped.

She didn't even realize she'd taken a step forward until one of your teammates noticed her standing there, staring.

From that day forward, it was inevitable.

You started dating during her junior year, your sophomore spring. It was slow at first — sneaky Starbucks runs, study sessions in the quiet part of the library that turned into whispered confessions, lingering touches on the walk back to the dorms. She’d come to your cheer practices and sit in the bleachers, pretending she wasn’t completely enamored.

You weren’t just pretty, though you absolutely were — tiny, bubbly, your voice like sunshine. But you were grounded, smart, funny. You never cared that she was “Paige Bueckers.” You cared that she was Paige — the one who liked mango smoothies and trash reality TV and wrote little poems in her Notes app when she couldn’t sleep.

She fell hard. And you did too.

For three years, it was everything.

But the year you graduated was the beginning of the end.

You left UConn that spring with a degree, a dream, and a spot on the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. She stayed — chose her 5th year, despite being a top draft pick — unfinished business, she said.

You tried. God, you tried.

The FaceTimes, the voice notes, the long texts. But soon, her schedule filled up with workouts, press, and rehab sessions. Yours was full of training camp, sponsor meetings, and nonstop appearances.

Distance doesn’t kill love. Silence does.

And eventually, there was more silence than anything else.

No messy fight. No final call. Just... the fade. The unanswered texts. The unreturned “I love you” left hanging on the line. Until it was just… over.

At least, that’s what you thought.

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

FLASH FOWARD TO THE 2025 WNBA DRAFT

You heard the news on Instagram like everyone else.

“The Dallas Wings select Paige Bueckers with the first overall pick.”

You stared at the screen for five minutes. Heart pounding. Mind spinning.

And then you turned off your phone and went back to your DCC uniform fitting. Because what else could you do?

She was in your city now. After everything. After all the nights you'd cried in your tiny Dallas apartment wondering if she ever thought of you, ever missed you. Now she was here.

And you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

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

A WEEK LATER

It was a joint promotional event — the Wings and the Cowboys doing a preseason crossover campaign. A few cheerleaders, a few players. Some media fluff. You were selected because of your “UConn connection.” You almost laughed when they told you.

The day of the event, you put on the boots, the crop top, the confident smile. You looked the part. But inside? You were unraveling.

And then you saw her.

Across the green room.

Blonde hair. Light blue Wings jacket. Her eyes found yours like it was muscle memory.

Neither of you moved. Not at first.

Then Paige was walking toward you.

God, she looked good. Older. Stronger. Sadder, maybe. And when she stopped in front of you, hands in her pockets, all you could think about was how different everything felt — and how much hadn’t changed at all.

“Hey, Cowgirl.”

Your heart stuttered. “Hey, Bueckers.”

A beat. Two.

"You look…" She swallowed. "God, you look incredible."

You laughed, soft. "Still got the charm, huh?"

"I had to. I lost everything else."

The smile dropped off your face.

"Paige—"

"I messed up," she said quickly. “I let you go because I thought I had to chase this dream alone. That I’d come back for you once I’d figured it all out. But you didn’t wait. And I get it. I don’t blame you.”

“I didn’t not wait,” you said, voice tight. “I just didn’t know if you were ever coming.”

Silence again. It said everything words couldn’t.

Then she looked up at you. Blue eyes shining, raw.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

You blinked. “After all this time?”

“I don’t want more time,” she whispered. “I want you.”

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

Dinner turned into drinks.

Drinks turned into a hotel elevator ride full of silence and stolen glances.

And now — here you were. Back pressed against the hotel room door, Paige’s mouth on your neck, her hands everywhere. Hot. Desperate. Familiar.

You gasped as she kissed down your throat. “Paige—”

She froze. Pulled back just enough to look at you.

“I need you to say it’s okay,” she whispered. “I need to know this is real.”

You cupped her face, thumb brushing her cheek. “It’s real.”

She kissed you then like you were her religion. Like nothing else had ever made sense. She picked you up — effortlessly — carried you to the bed and laid you down like you were made of glass and gold.

Your boots hit the floor. Your top came off. Her jacket joined the pile.

You reached up, traced the scar on her knee — the one from surgery junior year. She shivered at your touch.

“I missed you every day,” you breathed.

“I never stopped loving you,” she said, eyes wet.

And then she was everywhere — her mouth on your chest, her hands gripping your thighs, her body moving against yours like she already knew the rhythm. Like she’d never forgotten how to worship you.

She took her time.

You were trembling by the time she pulled your bottoms down, her lips pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. She looked up at you, eyes dark, and whispered:

“I’m gonna make you remember what we had. What we are.”

Then her mouth was on you, and your world tilted off its axis.

You came undone with her name on your lips, her fingers laced with yours, your heart finally — finally — full again.

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

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains.

You were tangled in sheets and limbs, your head on her chest, one of her hands tracing lazy circles on your back.

“You snore,” she said softly.

You smiled into her skin. “Liar.”

“Okay, barely. It’s cute.”

You looked up. Her hair was messy, eyes puffy from lack of sleep, but she was glowing.

“What happens now?” you asked, not ready to lose this again.

She kissed your forehead.

“I moved here for basketball. But I’m staying for you.”

Your heart caught.

“I don’t know what the future looks like,” she admitted. “But I know I don’t want it without you.”

You exhaled, finally letting yourself believe it. “Then let’s figure it out.”

She grinned. “Starting with brunch?”

You laughed, pulling her back down into the pillows. “Starting with round two.”

And this time, you weren’t rushing toward the end.

You had all the time in the world.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 15

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 14 | Series Masterlist | Part 16

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.6k

Chapter Summary: You learn the root of Bucky's obsession with you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, masturbation, dirty talk, tension, backstory, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, slight feels, talk of violence, angst, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and this chapter is... something. Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You hadn't opened your eyes yet when you felt Bucky’s fingers brush along your stomach in an almost hypnotic motion. You didn't know what time it was or what was going on in the world outside, but you knew you were in his arms and would be in his bed soon enough. Sleeping with someone next to you wasn’t something you were completely used to. It had been so long, and when it did happen it was always by choice.

You hadn't exactly kicked Bucky out though, had you? No, you invited him in. If only to prevent him from putting another hole in the wall. Natasha said she’d bill him for it, but you were going to make Bucky pay her extra for the inconvenience.

“I know you’re awake,” he murmured, his lips touching your neck. “Your breathing changed.”

“Mmm. You listen to me breathe?” you mumbled. That tracked for him.

“It’s a beautiful sound,” he said, your eyes finally opening when he pulled you closer. Whether it was sleep, being beside you, or both, it had an effect on his… anatomy. You went still when he rocked his hips once, letting you feel just how hard he was. “God, waking up beside you is a dream come true.”

Your fingers dug into the pillow under your head as he rolled his hips again. His fingers didn't drift south, didn't tug at your pajamas. He also didn't stop that slow grind and you hated that a bit of wetness gathered between your thighs. “Did you have good dreams?” you asked, your voice surprisingly even.

“Mmm. I had very good dreams,” he answered, his voice rough. “Would you rather I tell you or show you?”

Neither. That was what you told yourself. “What about me?” you asked. “You don’t want me to tell you about my dreams?”

“Tell me,” he urged, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I dreamt about you, Bucky. You laying beside me in bed, holding me close. Just like this,” you said, his groan permeating your skin. “Do you want me to keep going?”

His teeth gently sank into your shoulder, making you gasp. “Yes,” he growled.

“Okay,” you smiled, pushing your hips back just a little to tease him. “I dreamt that you touched me. So hot it made me feel like I was on fire.”

Another groan escaped. “Where, Kotyonok? Where did I touch you?” he asked, his voice strained.

“See, here's the thing…” You suddenly pulled yourself from his grasp and turned in time to smack him in his face with the pillow. His shocked expression was worth it. “I don’t remember the rest of my dream because some entitled jerk pounded on my door in the middle of the night and punched a hole in the wall.”

He chuckled as he sat up, his hair falling in his eyes. It was a gorgeous sight and it wasn't fair. “Did you just hit me with a pillow?”

You did it again, your frustration fueled more as he kept laughing. “Sleep is precious to me,” you said, nodding to his lower region. “You’re lucky I don't smack that with the pillow.”

He took it from your grasp before you could try. “Okay, it was shitty of me to show up when I did. I’ll give you that,” he said, reaching out to touch your cheek. “But I really did miss you.”

“I understand that, but it was one day,” you argued, shivering when his thumb moved along your skin. He went a single day without you and lived to tell the tale.

Pain filled his eyes. “But I already went so long without you.”

You sighed, pulling away and searching for your phone so you could check the time. “I need caffeine before we have our talk.”

Bucky looked down at himself. “And I need to take care of this.” He smirked at your expression. “Don't worry. As much as I want to be inside you, our first time won't be here.”

That was a relief. “But you do plan to fuck me here at some point.”

“Natasha let that slip, huh?” He stood up with a stretch and you looked away. “I plan to make love to you and fuck you, too. The best of both worlds.”

“How considerate.” You stretched, too, his eyes following you. “Let me use the bathroom before you jerk off in there, please.”

“You're welcome to listen,” he smiled.

He’d probably put on a show if he knew you were listening. “I’m going to sit in the other room once I’m done and order breakfast. Would you like anything?”

He looked touched that you considered that. “Coffee with cream and sugar, eggs sunny side up, and bacon, please.”

“Okay,” you said, rushing to the bathroom before he could follow.

“I might just jerk off in bed if you’re in there,” he called out as you shut the door.

“Be my guest!”

You swore you heard a chuckle as you went about your business, going to the bathroom, brushing your teeth. Ignoring him didn’t last when you heard a soft groan. Jesus, the man had absolutely no shame.

“Fuck, doll, I’m so hard for you,” he moaned.

You counted to three in your head and brushed your teeth a little harder, faster, trying to block him out. Maybe if you ignored him he'd shut his mouth. Maybe.

“Are you wet for me? Come to bed and let me take care of you. I'll make you melt on my tongue.”

Spitting harder in the sink than you needed to, you gripped the porcelain once you rinsed your mouth out. You had no doubt he’d eat you out like a starved man. Would he make you take him in your throat soon? Fuck your face until you drooled and cried or would he be gentle and let you get used to the weight of him on your tongue?

“I know you can hear me.” His voice was sinful, dark, and you scrubbed your skin so hard when you washed your face you were stunned you didn’t hurt yourself. “Sure you don’t wanna come out and see what you do to me? Maybe show me your pretty pussy? I can jerk off on it and spread it all over those pretty lips.”

You bit your lip, wishing your knees didn’t feel weak. “Bucky, please.”

He groaned louder, his breathing labored. Your breathing was a little heavier, too. “Say it again, I’m almost there.”

All you had to do was open the door to see if his pupils were dilated, if there was heat in his cheeks. Was his hair still a mess from sleeping? Would he make a show of stroking his cock? “Bucky, hurry up,” you demanded.

He chuckled, a breathy sound. “Can’t wait for you to say that before I fuck you.” Your eyes shut as he let out another obscene groan. “Before I fill you full of me.”

“Just go to the sitting area,” you muttered to yourself, not looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You left the bathroom with the hope of avoiding his gaze, but you made the mistake of looking at the bed. He was in the middle of it, looking every bit like a king. His lower half was covered by the blanket, but you could see that his right hand was under there, still stroking himself. His chest heaved, his eyes half lidded as you stared at each other. You had to break yourself from that spell, even if the man was jerking off to the thought of you.

“Like what you see?” he rasped.

You swallowed hard, but smiled. “Coffee with cream and sugar, eggs sunny side up, and bacon, right? Right,” you said, proudly walking with confidence from the room. “Clean up after yourself when you’re done.”

“I’ll clean you up, too, after I make a mess of you,” he stated, a long moan following as you plopped down on the sofa.

Guess he finished.

Once it was quiet enough in the bedroom, you ordered breakfast. You still needed a shower, if only to cool yourself off and get rid of the wetness that seeped out thanks to Bucky. You weren’t sure if you trusted him not to join you or try to watch and had a feeling he’d make you shower and bathe with him once you moved in.

Bucky, for his part, didn’t come out until there was a knock on the door minutes later. Any trace of his earlier transgression was gone, looking more put together, but there was still tension in the air. You remained silent as he thanked whomever was at the door once he checked the breakfast cart himself and wheeled it to the small table. He even pulled out a chair for you, staring at you with a soft gaze until you went to join him.

“Feel better?” you asked.

“Not really,” he admitted, setting the food out with a frown. “Orgasms take the edge off, but having you close and not having you is difficult.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” you uttered.

He sat down and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Why did you invite me in this morning?”

“I told you I was tired,” you said, which you were.

He hummed, taking a bite of his eggs. “You could’ve told me to leave, have Natasha call security, anything, but you didn’t do any of that. You didn’t make me sleep on the sofa either,” he said with a knowing smile. “Admit it, you wanted me in bed with you.”

“I will not admit that,” you said quickly. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

He shrugged. “Maybe you were testing to see if I’d stay true to my word and not force myself on you or maybe you actually missed me more than you want to admit to yourself. Either way, I’m glad you did. Best sleep I can remember in a long time.”

Admitting anything would be admitting defeat and you couldn’t do that to yourself. “It wasn’t even a full night’s sleep,” you pointed out. It was after two in the morning when he showed up.

“Doesn’t matter. I still slept well because I was holding you,” he smiled softly, nodding to your plate. “Please, eat. The food here is really good.”

You poked your food around before you dug in. He said things like that and it fueled your guilt for not giving in or fully accepting your new life. You weren’t going to romanticize anything he did though.

“You said we had some things to talk about,” he said after a minute. “I’m all ears.”

You took a large sip of your coffee first. “Yeah, like Ray following me. It was meant to be a day to myself and you had me followed,” you said, watching for his reaction. As expected, he didn’t look the least bit ashamed. “I don’t expect an apology from you because you’ll harp that it was for my own good, but you can understand my frustration that you didn’t let me know, right?”

That was one of the things that bothered you the most. The half answers and missing pieces and being kept in the dark. How much of it was for your own good and how much was it because he didn’t want you frightened more?

“I did have you followed and my instinct proved to be correct that you needed eyes on you. Also proves that you need to move in as soon as possible,” he said, your heart sinking. Of course he was twisting this to justify himself and get what he wanted. “But I get your frustration. It’s a big change for you, having eyes on you at all times.”

“Because of you.” You ignored the flicker of hurt in his eyes. This was all because he chose you. “Why Ray?”

“He’s good at his job, I trust him, and you seem to trust him,” he replied. You did to an extent. “I’m glad he suggested this place to you since you weren’t exactly interested in spending the rest of your day at home.”

You were glad for that as well. “Well, it was nice resting somewhere that didn’t have cameras or bugs around the place. Natasha was also nice to talk to,” you said. Meeting her didn’t fully ease your stress, but she helped.

Bucky ignored the camera comment. “She can bend the will of many men to do what she wants,” he said. There was respect there, even a hint of fondness. “Unsurprisingly, she’s protective of you, which is good.”

Likely because of whatever she experienced growing up she looked out for others, though you wondered if part of it was because you were Bucky’s girl. “She offered me a place here in case I ever need space or time to myself., I plan to take her up on that offer.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Because you don’t want to be near me.”

Putting your hand on his across the table, he immediately reacted to your touch. It was time to take a lesson from Natasha’s book and sway him. “Because we both need that space and moments to ourselves, just like we both need our friends. And any time apart will only make things more meaningful when we’re back together,” you stressed. Like you were stubborn in accepting your fate, he was stubborn in not wanting separation from you in the slightest. “I already feel like a prisoner of sorts in this relationship, so is it really too much to ask for a bit of a longer leash?”

“I’ll worry when you’re not nearby,” he admitted.

Your heart clenched, but you couldn’t allow that sweetness to manipulate you. “Because of men like Helmut Zemo?” you asked. Bucky gripped his fork tight. “You know, it’s a little convenient that the day you give me to myself is the day he shows up.”

What if it was a ruse for Bucky to not give you more days to yourself?

“I can see why you’d think that. I'd be suspicious if the roles were reversed,” he said, a hardened look crossing his face. “But I don’t want him anywhere near you and wouldn’t set you up that way.”

You were still a little suspicious, but the way Bucky, Ray, and Natasha reacted regarding Zemo told you that none of them had any idea he’d pop up. “Why not?”

“Because he isn’t a good person and shouldn’t have gone near you,” he said. You raised an eyebrow at that. “I’m not a good person either, but he’s something else.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. There was a story there and you needed answers.

“He’s rich, powerful, like me in many ways, but the difference is he once had a wife and kid who were his whole world. Something I’ve longed for and never had.”

You tried not to tense up, but that was where you came in for Bucky. He wanted you to make that dream a reality. “Had?” you asked, noticing he referred to Zemo’s family in the past tense.

Bucky nodded sadly. “A few years ago they were… collateral damage in a deal gone wrong. The loss changed him. He grew colder, more ruthless,” he explained. You were glad you finished eating because you weren’t sure you could stomach a bite after that. “Our work relationship has been shaky ever since then because he blames some of the men I’ve worked with for what happened and I feel like he’s been biding his time and waiting to strike.”

“‘Collateral damage’? It was his wife and child,” you said. Zemo may not have been a good person, but you had no doubt his family was innocent.

“I didn’t mean for it to sound heartless,” he said.

“And what? Him setting his sights on me, is it a game? Is he going to hurt me?” you asked, tears instantly filling your eyes. You were afraid all over again. “Will he try to kill me?” you whispered. Bucky’s associates were loyal to him as far as you knew. If Zemo blamed them in some way, what better way to hurt them than to hurt someone their boss cared about? A loss for a loss.

“No,” he said fiercely, pushing his chair back so fast and hard that it hit the floor. A tear fell when he rushed around, dropping to his knees beside your chair. “I don’t know what his angle is yet, but I’m going to find out and I won’t let him hurt you.”

“How can you guarantee that?” you asked.

“I can’t, but I have to try because I can’t lose you, too,” he whispered, wiping your tears away. “We don’t even have to wait until the end of the month for you to move in. I can have your apartment packed up while you’re out with your friends.”

You pulled away from his touch. “No,” you whispered back. Moving in sooner wouldn't help. “You owe me more answers.”

He let out a breath. “Kotyonok-”

“No!” you snapped, moving back in your chair. “Why are you so obsessed with me? And don’t just tell me that it was the connection of seeing me at the club and realizing we’re two lonely souls meant to be together. There is something there that no one is telling me and I need to know.”

Whether it was for closure or sealing your fate, it would drive you crazy to not know.

Bucky took your hands and pulled you up, a detached look taking over his features as he led you to the sofa. The look frightened you more than his leers or glares. Had you pushed too far?

“I told you my dad was an unfaithful partner to my mom, but he was worse. Much worse,” he began, gently squeezing your hand. “We always had money, more than we knew what to do with, but it was never enough for him. He stole from his partners and was careful to cover his tracks, but he slipped up one day. And when that day came, he shifted the blame to my mom. Convinced them enough that they believed him when everyone knew my mom would never steal a penny.”

Your mouth fell open when he audibly exhaled, a broken sound. “Bucky… I…” You didn’t know what to say.

“They didn’t kill her, but they nearly did. She couldn’t even see me when I showed up because her eyes were so swollen. She was hardly breathing,” he continued in a hurt tone, pulling his hand free of yours to remove the glove from his left hand. Your eyes weren’t deceiving you the night he showed up at your apartment. His hand was made out of some sort of metal. “Lost my arm getting her out of there.”

He held it out so you could touch it. “You lost your arm?” you asked, your fingers grazing the metal ever so gently. You had never seen anything like it.

He shuddered. Could he feel that? “It was worth it for the woman who brought me into this world, raised me, and loved me unconditionally,” he said without regret. “And my dad? He just kept whoring around, and told his associates that she had to learn her lesson the hard way. He couldn't admit the truth.”

Your eyes misted over. How could his dad do that to his mom? To Bucky? “I’m so sorry.”

He blinked rapidly and you wondered if he had tears in his eyes, too. “It took her a long time to recover and she never fully did, but she tried to make the best of it. She still had her spirit, and kept her distance from my dad in our home. Some of my friends even made sure my dad wouldn’t go near her,” he said, smiling wistfully. How could she handle staying there? Was it for her son? “Because she never fully recovered though, I almost lost her again over four years ago.”

“What happened?”

“Before I answer that.” He shifted to face you, awe in his eyes. “Have you ever saved a life?”

“What?” you asked, thrown by the question.

“Have you ever saved anyone?” he asked again.

“No, I’m not a hero. I…” you trailed off before a vivid memory filled your mind. “Actually, I did once.”

“Yeah?” he asked, but he sounded as if he already knew.

“Yeah. There was this older woman walking across the street with a friend or relative one day, I’m not sure,” you said, wincing when he gripped your hand. “Bucky, you-”

“Tell me what happened,” he begged.

“She stopped and put a hand to her head while her friend kept walking. I could tell something was wrong and before I knew it I rushed toward her and grabbed her hand when she started to collapse. I pulled her out of the way just in time before a speeding car hit her,” you explained, remembering it like it was yesterday. Your heart had raced so fast when she crumpled in your arms. “Her friend understandably freaked out and flagged a car down to take her to the hospital. She kept thanking me for saving Winnie, but I was still worried about her.”

“Winnie.” Bucky swallowed hard and loosened the hold on your hand. “That was her name?”

“Yeah.” You gave him a strange look when he inhaled sharply. “I stopped at the hospital to donate flowers like usual and I asked one of the doctors I knew pretty well if anyone named Winnie had checked in. I knew she couldn’t tell me yes or no and I didn’t have any other information to give her, but I did ask if she could make sure she got a vase if she was there.”

“Did you ever see her again?” he asked, his voice thick.

You nodded after a moment. “Yeah, I did. I went back maybe a week later and she spotted me by chance as she was being wheeled to her room. She said I could stop in if I wanted to, so I did,” you smiled softly. “She said my flowers brightened up her room and I asked how she knew they were from me because I never put my name on the cards. She said she just knew. I made sure to bring her flowers the next time I visited.”

A sniffle pulled you from the memory and Bucky looked like he was trying hard not to break down. “You kept visiting her?”

“I did. She didn’t always say much because she was tired some days, but seemed to like it when I read to her. Said her son liked to read to her, too, but I never saw him stop by,” you answered sadly. She was a kind woman and it broke your heart that she didn’t get a lot of visitors. “Then one day, her room was empty. No one could tell me anything. I don’t know if she went home or passed or what happened. It was like she just vanished.’”

“She was brought home before she passed away days later,” Bucky said, his hand shaky as he took his wallet out.

You stared at him. “How do you…” He said he knew you donated specific flowers to the hospital. The same kind of flowers you gave to Winnie. “Bucky, what are you-”

“I lied to you during our first date when I said I wish you could’ve met my mother. You did meet her and she did love you,” he said, showing you a photo in his wallet. It was a younger picture of Bucky. He looked full of life and the woman smiling was the very woman you pulled out of the path of the car. “You just didn’t know it.”

“Winnie…” you whispered, feeling like the wind was knocked out of you. “She was your mom.”

The kind woman you saved by chance was the mother of Bucky Barnes.

“Her full name was Winifred. I only visited her during off hours so it wouldn’t attract any attention. Used a fake last name for her records, too, so no one would know that a Barnes was in the hospital,” he said, tucking his wallet away. “She used to talk about this sweet woman who saved her and brought her flowers, but she couldn’t remember her name. With her mind slipping, it didn’t surprise me and I was too caught up in other things to fully look into it because I knew she was safe and this person didn’t mean any harm.”

Your mouth was agape, trying to process everything when he bitterly laughed. “You…”

“Dad never stopped by, of course. Not that I would’ve let him, the piece of shit.” His metal hand curled as anger flashed across his face. “And this person couldn’t have been like my dad and the cowardly men who thought it was okay to beat up a woman. Men like Alexander Pierce, Brock Rumlow, Jasper Sitwell.”

Those were some of the names Zemo mentioned. “Oh, my god.”

“You know, one of the last things she said to me was that she hoped I found my other half one day. To love her completely, hold her tight, and never let her go,” he said, an odd smile on his face. “I only wish she was alive so she could see us together.”

You gasped. He took those words to heart, twisted them into something dark and possessive. “I-”

“I told you that traditional dating never worked for me,” he cut you off. “Seeing you in my club, it all made sense as to why.”

You couldn't find the words, too lost to speak up if you tried.

“And imagine my surprise when I had my men look into you just to get facial recognition footage of you saving my mom on the street that fateful day. And footage from the hospital with you sitting there talking with her, bringing her happiness without asking for anything in return,” he said, cupping your cheek as you tried to get over the shock. “I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you, but that just solidified it more. You saved my mom, and gave me more time with her. That’s something that no one else could ever give me.”

Your lip trembled. You saved his mom’s life, gave him more time with one of the only people he seemed to love and respect. No, that couldn’t be. That couldn’t have been you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I had scared you enough. Would you have listened or believed me if I told you that so soon?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know,” you breathed. You weren’t sure what to think anymore.

“Don’t you see now why I’m so desperate to keep you close? To keep you safe? Had I looked into it then, we could’ve met and been together this whole time,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours. “But it’s okay. Fate stepped in and brought us together now.” He traced your lips with his thumb. “We’re going to make up for all the lost time, and never be lonely again, Kotyonok. That’s a promise.”

Something fell apart inside you and you weren’t sure when you began to openly weep, but he silenced your cries with his lips. Maybe he was crying, too, you couldn’t be sure, but he held you tight against him and didn’t let go. You didn't fight him, couldn't fight him. You were the one who asked for answers after all and you got them, didn’t you?

And knowing what you knew now, walking away from Bucky was never going to be an option. He would never allow it. Fate wouldn't allow it either.

A lot to unpack there, lovelies! Bucky sort of behaved. He believes fate brought you together . What do you think? And what will happen next? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gffa]

With the confirmation of The Acolyte not getting a second season, I can't say I'm surprised, the numbers for that show were really bad given what its budgets was, like I kept an eye on The Acolyte's numbers and they were really, really down across the board (Ahsoka's numbers aren't super great either but that's getting its second season because it's Filoni's pet show, I suspect), like set aside all the other complicated stuff, whether it was good or bad, how much of the fandom's reaction was pretty heinous and racist, it just was not getting the numbers it needed and it's making me wonder about how all of these shows are not doing well. Mando is doing all right, OWK did all right, Andor's doing okay, but none of these shows are setting anything on fire anymore (ratings-wise, that is), what would it take to create something that takes off again?

I strongly suspect that The Mandalorian only took off because of Favreau, who really does know how to make something really good and fun in the beginning. Filoni gets a lot of credit for that show, but I'd be willing to put ten dollars on the table that Favreau was driving the vast majority of the success of that series. And that makes me wonder about the future of these shows, because I don't think Filoni is strong enough to really carry a show on his own, most of his best work is when he has a strong partner actively working with him or when he was working under Lucas.

And the creators they bring in to create these shows aren't setting anything on fire, either. Yeah, the sequels made a billion dollars for each movie, but I think it's pretty telling that we're not getting comics or books or games about those characters anymore, the way we did for the prequels characters for more than a decade after they came out. Yeah, Tony Gilroy and Deborah Chow had shows that did solidly well, but they're not anything that Star Wars can build future content off of, they're already backstories for other movies themselves. And I don't think Skeleton Crew is going to light anything on fire, either.

Lucasfilm just doesn't seem to know what to do with Star Wars TV and movies. They had some really good early success with their projects, but almost everything ultimately fizzled out after a few years or ended really badly, and it feels like the only thing that's really hitting with audiences are more Clone Wars-era content and The High Republic novels and maybe still The Mandalorian.

Honestly, if I were Lucasfilm, I'd cut out the live action shows and go back to animation and think long and hard about setting up a new movie series. I think, with the right creative team (and not just who they think is a big name to write/direct), they could have a great trilogy with The Old Republic era stuff, because they have got to expand beyond the PT/OT and the Skywalkers, especially since the sequels put a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths about how Luke, Leia, and Han's stories ended.

(I mean, in my ideal world, we'd get an animated series set in between TPM and AOTC or set like 30 years pre-TPM and getting to see the backstories for characters like Mace and Plo and Shaak and Luminara and Yarael, but I'm not holding my breath on that one.)

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver 2

masterpost

Batman, Danny reflected, was an irritatingly hard guy to find. Which was just plain silly! The dude had been in his apartment. He had seen the guy out in public by chance! It had been impossible for him to avoid Batman in a city of millions when that had been his number two goal! 

And yet every time Danny made it to a house fire or gunshot sound or the signal on top of the police station, the fucker was already gone. 

‘Can’t say shit about his work ethic,’ Danny had to admit. ‘He really keeps it moving. Why isn’t he having a break? He arrested Joker today and apparently met up with his estranged kid.’

He stopped in his tracks as that finally clicked into place. 

Jay was Batman’s kid. His estranged batling. 

“Weird,” Danny said, appreciative. Jay truly was a catch. He had a backstory! It was probably tragic, judging by the way that he was. 

Oh. He could probably like, fight and stuff. Danny mulled that over as he half heartedly drove towards the police station. Had Danny ever really dated someone who could fight? It would be nice to not be the protector. When one of them inevitably got kidnapped by a villain, Danny wanted to be it. He didn’t want to solve riddles or discover new powers. 

He indulged in a power fantasy for a while of being able to say, “oh no, save me!” and then just hanging around looking sexy and scared and shit. A goofy grin stole across his face. Teehee. He giggled. If he wasn’t trying to confirm proof of life he would be kicking his feet and blushing over the idea. 

Not that death would be, like, that much of a barrier. Jay was not going to peacefully move on to the other side. Jay was gonna be an undead motherfucker, Danny was calling it now. He had the spirit. 

He parked in a locked parking garage by going intangible through the wall and went fully ghost to fly the last stretch towards the police station. It was a little bit ridiculous to stake out for Batman, but this was the low he was resorting to. Ugh. Strategy. He had a strategy. Despicable. He had to, right? He had to.

‘If I do this, then he’s probably going to report the sighting to the GIW. I might have to transfer.’

Danny wallowed a bit in self pity about having a problem he couldn’t argue or punch his way out of. He stuck his hands in his armpits and sulked, hovering in the air above the main police station. Someone was hanging out on the roof. He squinted at them optimistically, but they were just smoking. He morosely did a few flips. The smoker went back inside, shutting the door with a sort of deliberate silence that implied they were not allowed to smoke on the roof.

Long minutes stretched out. Absolutely nothing happened.

While he was wallowing alone, he remembered to send his mom a thank you text and let her know Wulf had arrived safely. 

A car! Someone was pulling up to the police station!

Danny perked up before he remembered that Batman would not be coming to the station by car, and almost certainly not in a mauve minivan. 

The sun started to rise and Danny had to admit that it was not going to work out. He let out a little screech of frustration, hands in his hair. How was someone supposed to get a hold of Batman? He didn’t have a publicly listed phone number, Facecard, or… did he have a twooter account? Danny went to check.

He did. Batman had a verified twooter account. Danny stared at his screen for a minute, mouth slightly ajar. 

“I wasted so much time,” he realized. Then he switched to the account that Tucker had made for Phantom, took a selfie of himself floating over the police station, and tagged Batman in it. He pursed his lips and considered what to say for a minute. 

“I just wanna talk. HMU dude.” 

That was perfect. He hit send twoot. 

His mentions exploded before he could get his phone into his pocket. Danny startled so badly that he dropped it onto the police station rooftop. He shrieked and dive bombed like a seagull, desperately trying to snatch his phone out of midair. 

He saved it at the last moment, pulling up sharply to avoid dipping inside the police station. That would be awkward. Danny huffed a sigh of relief and glanced at the current landing notification.

‘This guy for real??’

Yeah, obviously, Danny responded. He looked at the next twoot that caught his eye.

‘Lmao this fucker thinks he can get an appointment with the batMAN’

Danny rolled his eyes and responded,

Get good, loser. He wants to see me. 

That did set off a flurry of speculation that he was fucking the Batman. Hmm. Danny frowned at his phone. Maybe he should talk less. 

Instead of doing that, Danny hunched over and started committing twooter violence, responding to people on indignant impulse. 

Someone cleared their throat. 

“A minute,” Danny said distractedly. He was holding his phone nearly up to his face and typing furiously about how @acovadobinch147 could get on his level if they only changed everything about their sour ass attitude. 

“Is this really the time?” A man’s voice asked.

Danny startled, elbows flying up. He kept his grip on his phone this time. He looked down. 

There was a cop on the roof. A cop with a seriously unimpressed expression, under eye bags big enough to have to check at luggage, and a death grip on a paper cup of coffee. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said reflexively. He hid his hands behind his back. No. That’s suspicious. He took them out and put them in his pockets. Nailed it. 

“Ahuh.” The man took a sip of what looked like black coffee. “You might be loitering, son.” 

“The property line doesn’t include airspace,” he said promptly. 

The cop’s mouth twitched up slightly. It was hard to see under his mustache. “Might be. Aside from that, would you happen to know anything about the disappearance of the Joker from his cell?”

Danny blinked at him. “You know about that already?” He wondered. He shoved his hands further in his pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, he was really creepy and shit. I sent him to the Infinite Realms.” At the blank stare that garnered, he added, “the ghost zone? The lands of the dead. The unending stretch-“ 

“I got it, son.” The cop looked shell shocked. He stood perfectly still for a moment. Then he drained his entire coffee cup, crushed the paper cup and stuffed it in his pocket, and started digging in his vest pocket. “Don’t tell,” he said vaguely, and extracted a cigarette. 

Danny drifted a little further away. “Keep that downwind,” he warned. “My dad would lose his mind if I came home smelling like tobacco.” The odds of Jack Fenton showing up unexpectedly for bonding time were low, but they were never zero.

The cop snorted. “Sure thing.” He shuffled to the side a few steps and lit up. “So, uh, you want to meet the Batman to tell him you… to tell him what you did to the joker? He won’t thank you for it,” he warned. 

“No.” Danny blew a raspberry. “I don’t care about his opinion. I wanna know where my boyfriend is. Almost boyfriend. Well, we really just met, but I wanna see where it’s going, you know?” 

“…and you think that Batman knows?” 

Danny nodded furiously. “He was the last one who saw him, aside from Joker, and the unfunny dude didn’t know jack shit,” he complained. He bobbed in the air as he crossed his arms. “He was such a weirdo creep! He was making, like, innuendo about spanking? And I’m pretty sure he claimed he predated on Jay? And that’s obviously not cool and shit, so I couldn’t leave him there to be a bother,” Danny explained. He shrugged. “He’s kind of my jurisdiction anyway,” Danny justified. “Joker has major death experiences vibes.” He wiggled his fingers to illustrate this. “Was he ever declared dead? He acted like he was.” 

“Jurisdiction,” the cop repeated. “Son, are you… do you have some kind of foreign license as law enforcement?” 

Danny thought about it. “Technically,” he admitted. Embarrassing. “…two roles, technically.” Ew. He shuddered. “Walker gave me the rodeo yeehaw cop gold star thing after the last big prison break so I could help, and also teeeechnically I’m meant to enforce infinite realms laws.” He grimaced. “Because.” He ground a foot into the air as if it was the dirt. “Ugh, this is embarrassing.” 

“I don’t need to know the details,” the cop said. That was so unhinged Danny stopped to stare at him. “The Joker was taken into custody by another law enforcement agency, details are classified. Does the Joker still exist?” He was holding his temple.

“Yeahhhhh,” Danny drew out the word. He scrunched his eyebrows together. “If that’s what you want, we can just keep him, I guess. He can be a denizen of the Infinite Realms. Like me,” he added, because he didn’t want people looking for human him. This was a great alibi. The cops would tell the GIW that Phantom lived in the Infinite Realms now, and they would never catch him. He was going to live forever.

The cop took a long drag on his cigarette. “You’re deceased, correct?” 

“You’re blunt,” Danny muttered. “Yeah, uh, I’m a ghost. Wooooo.” He made scary fingers. 

“And your boyfriend?” 

“Not deceased,” Danny said slowly. Although something about what Joker had said was sticking in his mind. “At least, not as of this afternoon. He’s like, this tall. Square jaw, big hands, very white teeth, has a red helmet drag persona-“

He cut himself off as he remembered things. “He’s very unobtrusive is what I was saying,” Danny lied hastily. He gave a nervous laugh. “He, uh, rides bicycles, not motorcycles because that’s a cool guy thing, regular motor-bicycles regular bicycles and he has a red human safety hat for it. Ummmm.” He looked away shiftily and snapped his runaway mouth shut. “Yeah.” He looked back and frowned in concern. The cop looked awful. “Hey, are you okay? Do you have a headache?” 

“Nope.”  The cop didn’t stop massaging at his head. “Name?” 

“Jay,” Danny said. He wasn’t gonna give him a full name.

The cop sighed. He sounded like he was in serious pain. “Your name.” 

Oh, okay. “Phantom.” He did a midair flip.

The cop nodded heavily. “Thank you. Is there anyone I can verify your credentials as Infinite Realms law enforcement with?” 

Danny groaned and buried his face in his hands. Like who, his Dad? Some wizard? Ember? “Do you really have to?” He asked pitifully. “They’re all so embarrassing.”  The cop raised an eyebrow. Danny folded. “Literally anyone who can contact the Infinite Realms,” he muttered sulkily. “I’m kind of a big deal there. I, like, arrested the last king. There’s, uh, a few human magicians you could confirm with. Some ecto biologists in Illinois that you can look up. Any ghost you know, really.” 

So mortifying. He was cop adjacent. He felt queasy.

The cop closed his eyes. “Does that put you in the government in any way?” 

“…You’re smart,” Danny said, surprised at that deductive leap. “Yeah, I’m like, the next king or whatever. When I’m old and dead enough.”

“Fantastic. I’ll leave you my number and I’d like a way to contact you. I want paperwork on the Joker’s new placement tomorrow, I can’t be party to kidnapping.” 

…What was happening?

“Okay,” Danny said in a very high pitch. He, uh, was probably going to have to rescue him from Skulker and actually put him in Walker’s prison. He should have listened to Mom. He fidgeted. “Is there anything else?” He laced his fingers behind his back, feeling a little bit like he was in trouble at school.

“Yeah.” The cop dropped his cigarette and ground it out underneath his boot. “The Red Hood was wounded tonight, but survived. He left of his own accord, alone. I expect he’ll be passed out in some safe house.” 

“…so I should just like, wait?” Danny frowned. “I don’t like it.” 

‘I do have a clue. Jason Wayne. That’s enough to track him down, right? He’s gotta have a dead grandma or someone haunting him. I find his home, I find a family ghost, and they tell me where he is. Boom.’

“You’ll like it less if the Batman shows up to have a chat,” the cop said frankly. “This was a professional courtesy.” He frowned sternly. Danny veered back at the very scary face. “Do I make myself clear, son?” 

“Crystal.”  Danny shot off a salute. “I’ll, uh, go now.” 

“You had better.” The cop’s tone sounded awfully final.

Jeeze. Danny went invisible and left at high speed. He could take a hint. 

[yaymiyas]

THE TALK

warning: yandere!isekai!crown prince, he is very mean in this, female reader

a/n: this is TECHNICALLY not a part two to the introduction but it sort of is….. it jumps from the conversation to the breakfast……..enjoy! ALSO ALSO ALSOOOOOOOO technically its female reader bc you got reincarnated blah blah

looking at the fragments of bacon he didnt want to eat, he let his fingers drum against the edge of the white plate. the fact that you, the daughter of a whore, lover to none, and nuisance to all, was right beside him made his food hard to swallow. the two of you sat in the dining room, and while he sat at the very end of the table with his back facing the door to the kitchen, your usual spot would be that of the opposite side. right across from him, back facing the entering door, but it seems after the poison didn’t hit quite deep enough in your veins, it did affect your brain because, for some reason, you thought it was brilliant to sit directly next to him. you weren’t as talkative as he would have thought of you, ever since you have learned of the activities he had decided to partake in, you started to demand his attention. at first, it didnt bother him much, since he himself started to believe that he was focusing solely on gracie that your suspicions were bound to grow, and grow they did.

for weeks, months, up until the poisoning you were all up on him. he was certain that you were attempting to skin him alive and wear him as a coat it was all mildly unpleasant but more irritating. saer never had a taste for you; rather, he actually hated you. to no one’s fault but his own fathers, he was forced to marry you out of pregnant promises. your father, sir tudor, wasn’t the poorest dope saer’s father has ever seen, but he was the loyalist. he worked on the gwynn estate, doing a multitude of things for the family, automatically gaining the trust of the duke and then the king himself. at the time, king gwynn was more fascinated with how a man with such little knowledge could become his most loyalist man, but that he did. following the pregnancy of both the queen and your mother, he decided that the best course of action was to marry his second unborn son off to the unborn daughter of a freeloader.

an icy shiver runs down saer’s back, forcing him to shake his shoulders and head. looking up from your half eaten plate, raising your head to the sudden movement. he was quiet the whole time, poking at the small slivers of bacon like they were the nastiest things on earth. you werent surprised that he wasnt talking; no, you were actually relieved. it wasn’t because he wasnt attractive or anything, he certainly does look like the main lead; its just the talk you had prior to the breakfast that was replaying in your head. cynthia and amanda didn’t give you much information, since, from the looks of it, they didn’t want to say too much. either their heads were on the line or yours were. you never thought about asking tily, even though she was the one that brought you down here. it just felt too weird knowing she was the one who weirdly had something against you. from your fading memories of ‘obsession falls’, you remember reading online forums and tweets about the whole thing. it seemed like the only real crime edina committed throughout the whole book was wanting her husband to love her. she did everything he had asked of her, from the way she talked to her style of clothing, even to what letters she can reply to. in olden standards, she seemed like the perfect obedient wife. this might have been your first mistake, but you didn’t read too much on saer or his backstory, so you never really understood the reasoning for his hatred of his wife, but you knew it was deep and it was boiling.

clearing your throat, you believed it was a better time than ever to clear the air and get to your point. you never understood why edina allowed things to get as deep as they were, but she was made just to be killed. it sucks that no matter what you do or say, saer will always hate you because you are edina.

“saer,”

“ae.”

that stupid nickname. shutting your eyes tightly and fighting back against any light to seep through, you sighed heavily. the whole time, saer had been watching you carefully. even though it was from the corner of his eyes, he was indeed trying to calculate your next moves. it was kind of silly that your sudden change in physical response is making him antsy, but how can anyone fault him? the last time the air-headed cunt decided to change the way she was reacting, gracie was suddenly engaged to alastair and smiling in his face about it. it was enraging. other than the fact that you were in his life to begin with, knowing that the reason he couldn’t slit the throat of his ex best friend was all because you decided to breathe. those two minutes were the longest two minutes of his life. he watched as your head dropped down on the table, making a very sudden and loud noise with it. saer had sternly told any and all servants to leave the two of you be if any loud, disruptive noises were heard. he even double checked that he sent your nosey maids, cynthia and amanda, home around that time. he knew that if they were present in the building, you weren’t going to eat that poison.

it was infuriating to watch them care about someone as lowly as you. not just them, anyone. reading gracie’s letters, asking how you’ve been and to see you before she even utters a word about him, was beyond hurtful. it felt as if his whole world was falling apart, all because you decided to have superpowers and not die. this was the only way to get back at you. he has tried strangling you. he has tried slaying you. each attempt was caught by either maid, cynthia, or amanda. it made him sick to see you get dotted on. seeing the frilly outfits they were making you wear, as if you were a porcelain doll not worth anybody’s touch. you were disgusting. a disgusting being that deserved to die. so why. why were you here? why were you looking at him like he had done something wrong. 

“enough with the causalities, i would like a divorce saer.”

[freshbakedbreadstick]

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 

But his words… his words hurt the most. 

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 

Until his voice brought you back. 

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 

Back home. 

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 

But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling. 

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 

You gasped, chest tightening. 

“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered. 

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it. 

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 

Then you smelled it. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.” 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 

“Like I always needed you?” 

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 

[azulhood]

So, in John Constantine's backstory he accidentally sends a kid to hell.

Which I think is a big part of his backstory, but we'll get back to it.

So, Danny got crowned king of the ghost zone which is a lot of work.

thankfully there are other beings (Hades, Hel, Lucifer, Anubis, over assorted angels, and so on) who rule their own little sections of the afterlife to rule while still answering to the ghost king.

Made everything a lot easier for him, but as king he was expected to inspect those sections at least once.

Which was fine, he could spend a day or two checking things out.

And this is where the kid Connie sent to hell comes in.

During his visit through hell, he notices an innocent soul that wasn't supposed to be there.

The soul had died a long time ago, hell wasn't really made for the living, but they were still trapped.

He of course takes them with him when he leaves.

The kid asks if he could help them tell Constantine that they're out of hell since he was looking for ways to save them. (They know since demons are loudmouths and the demons wanted to use the fact, that no matter how hard John tried he would never be able to rescue them, to hurt the kid.)

Danny agrees, because how hard could finding a sad British trench coat magic man be?

Cue hero's from around the multiverse waking up, after taking a hit, to a white haired and green-eyed eldritch horror asking them "Do you know John Constantine?"

Turns out finding a sad British trench coat magic man was incredibly hard, who knew?

And even when they did find a John Constantine the kid said it wasn't their John Constantine, how the kid could tell Danny had no clue.

[cultofcipher]

Bill Cipher thoughts (BoB Spoilers Ahead)

I'm really sitting on how Bill's displayed so much of himself indirectly in the BoB. How during the Love section he denies having exes, marking them out. How said exes show up SEVERAL times scratched out or are regarded with this bitterness of someone who did NOT do the breaking up part. Bill got dumped. Every time. And is desperately trying to bury his feelings.

And that's something I think the Book of Bill really highlights in a way. The fact that Bill has feelings. That deep down he's a broken triangle. It's all over the book's writing. Him pointing out how to use denial and rationalization and other bad coping mechanisms to basically ignore and lie to himself (and show us how to do it) and basically convince himself that he is as heartless as he tries to be. Him avoiding his exes. The tone he uses and the avoidance really giving the "I don't handle breakups well and I'm still petty about it". Him constantly telling himself that he's fine. He's not fine. Him crying over Ford leaving and getting wasted. Him being bitter about the henchmaniacs not calling. His regret over what happened to his world. His loneliness. GOD his loneliness. His self-hatred. His scathing remark about definitely NOT having some tragic backstory that humanizes him and how he's not an "I can fix him case". Calling himself a monster. His longing for home. The "Last one breathing". The "I tried to change the past". The "my hands shaking, as I realized I could never undo the". The "until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe". The goddamn "I don't want to die alone" Valentine's card. The last few pages. Just, the last few pages. That isolation, his pained "I'M FINE". The almost sad plea for someone to let him out.

Bill cares. He's fucked up, unstable, violent. But he does care about people he gets along with and he feels understand him. For every "I'm just playing the bit" and using people with nice gestures, I think a fraction of that is somewhat genuine. And he hates it. He hates his own vulnerability. He hates his lack of apathy. He's denying himself his own emotions constantly under so many layers of distractions, eldritch horrors, and repression. He can't think about home, about failure, about how every relationship he's ever had, platonically or otherwise, ended. And it wasn't on his terms.

Him talking about/to his mom when he's drunk. How his mom called him Billy as a kid. How his home life sounded simple. How Bill as an individual is anything BUT simple. And how his drunken state holds such fondness for that simplicity, yet it was suffocating. How he would've broken free eventually, inevitably, because he knew that's who he was. It's his nature. He was destined for more.

How it cost him everything.

How he's constantly chasing insanity like it's a drug. Like he needs the power trip to stay high. To not think too hard. To drown out his emotions and his self-reflections and everything he hates about himself.

How in Gravity Falls he still tried to get Ford to side with him after everything, cause that was his vulnerability showing, for the slightest glimpse of a moment. Cause he doesn't want to do it alone. Him reaching out to the reader in his book, because he doesn't want to do it alone. Can't do it alone. Even when he eventually betrays that person, I think him offering Ford that cushy spot alongside his henchmaniacs makes me think that yeah, Bill actually would've upheld his end of the deal.

He thinks he wants multiversal domination. He thinks Weirdmageddon is his Magnum Oppus. His purpose. But he's so lost. If he ever does get what he wants, he won't know what to do with himself. He'll be faced with the "Now what?". He'll hit the end of the road and realize how unsatisfying it is. How this isn't what he wanted.

How lonely it is to be God.

I think the Axolotl sees that in Bill. It's why he doesn't try to destroy him or attack him or anything. He sees that inner self of Bill. Sees him for what he really is. Someone who needs a LOT of therapy, a true, honest to goodness friend or partner in his life, and maybe a more sustainable life purpose or hobby. He has so much potential and in a way his pursuit of power, rather than being an actualization of his abilities, is a waste of them, because it gets him nowhere.

And he needs help, even if he doesn't think he does. He's a depressed alcoholic frat boy trying to drown his misery in a way that hurts and kills worlds. He's a girlfailure, a bisexual/pansexual disaster (he's at LEAST canonically bisexual or at MOST canonically pan cause this guy has dated both ways).

Bill's book is so incredibly amazing for what it is. All the lies, all the unrealiable narrator parts of Bill's facades and flaws and him being himself and all of his genuine thoughts and feelings bleeding through the lines and showing themselves but only in a way that you can really understand if you understand him and can tell when he's lying and when he's not. To see the real parts of him, and everything else. This book was perfect, and it was perfectly imperfectly him. This truly is Bill's book. It's so him in such a raw and genuine yet dishonest way. I'm gonna cherish this damn book forever.

[rosietoesy]

Fever Pitch

Summary: After what happened at Graduation, Wally wanted to make sure you were okay.

Wally Clark x Reader 18+ MDNI

CW: Fluff and smut with a smidgen of angst, unprotected sex, cream pies.

A/N: Thank you, @whoopsyeahokay, for letting me bounce ideas off of you for this. Depending on how well this fic does, there is a possible backstory fic on the reader.

Wally was searching all over the school to try and find you. After what he witnessed at the graduation ceremony. He couldn't believe that they had skipped you during the in memoriam section of the ceremony before they started calling the names of the graduates. His excitement turned into anger. He couldn't believe that happened, in his seat in the 1950's gymnasium of the upper part of the bleachers, he turned to where he saw you sitting, he was going to offer you comfort, but he failed to notice that you were already gone.

He checked almost everywhere in the school, classrooms, library, and cafeteria. He even went to check the dark room in the photography classroom, but no luck. Then it hit him, there was only one other place that he could possibly check to see if you were there, but he wasn't too sure because who really wants to go back to the place where you died? He exited the school & made his way over to the baseball field. He could make out a blob of a shadow as he was walking to it, but once he got closer to the diamond. He recognized you were there, laying out in the outfield near the area where you died. He noticed that you were looking up at the stars in the sky.

He debated if he wanted to approach you or give you space. Ultimately, he decided to approach you carefully without scaring you. You heard footsteps by your head and didn't look behind you to acknowledge the person there. Wally shifted the weight of his feet and was biting his tongue on what to say. You were getting irritated at whoever was standing there was just staring at you. You get ready to open your mouth to tell them to fuck off, only to have Wally beat you to speaking first. “Mind if I joined you?” He asked. You really didn't want anyone to join you or give you pity. You closed your eyes, not saying anything. In your head you were really pondering over whether or not you should accept his offer. With the silence so long, you thought he would have left by now. But with you opening your eyes and glancing behind your head. You saw his feet still there. “Fine.” You replied agitated and Wally took that as a small victory and laid right next to you on the ground. Again, silence filled between y'all and it was nice but also suffocating. After what felt like forever Wally asked “Are you okay?” Sure it seemed silly to ask that since you're both dead and trapped in the school, but he didn't know how much of the ceremony you saw. “I'm doing okay as much as I can while being dead.” You answered. “How much of the ceremony did you see?” He wondered, just wanting to be sure how to proceed forward. You chuckled “I left before they started memoriam. Who wants to hear about a nobody after listening to the life of a star football player?” His expression changed to sadness and his heart broke for you. “I do.” He said. “Yeah, right.” You laughed back in response. He turned to face you and gently reached out to you to turn you to face him as he spoke, he wanted you to see the seriousness in his eyes and face when he said the next thing he was going to. “I'm serious, I really do want to know about you. I've always noticed you since Sophomore year.” He paused to gather his thoughts and you looked at him with confusion on your face. “Ever since the first football game of sophomore year, I noticed you right away. You've been to every football game not missing one except one time during junior year.” He quietly spoke. You really stared at him hard. “You noticed me?” you questioned. “Of course, I did.” He chuckled. “ I thought you were the most beautiful girl in our year back then, still do actually.” He said so casually.

Heat crept on your cheeks or what you thought was heat, you weren't so sure with this whole being dead thing. Soft conversations followed between you after that. Just talking about everything and nothing. Wally noticed some of your hair fell in front of your eyes when you threw your head back in laughter. He moved closer to you and tucked that piece of hair behind your ear. It was definitely heat alright that you felt radiate from Wally's hands being in close proximity. His eyes were locked on yours, and his movement paused. His baby brown cow eyes glanced down to your lips and back to your eyes several times. Trembling in his hold as the warm Wisconsin winds blew over, yeah. You both were slowly moving towards each other and with your lips barely touching. Wally breathes out “Can I kiss you?” Your breath hitches, and you close the space between you. Too afraid of what your voice would sound like. The kiss was everything and more. Slow at first but rapidly gaining speed.

You both separate from each other to catch your breath. It was silent again, but the good kind. Foreheads resting against each other and trying to regulate your breathing. Once you both were at a relaxed pace, he carefully lifted his forehead from yours just so he could look into your eyes. In a husky voice, Wally spoke, “ Wow, that was amazing.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes at him. With that, he pulls you closer to him. Chest to chest, body to body . You gasped at his boldness. He nuzzles his nose into your cheek and lets out a whine “ Please, let me celebrate your accomplishment?” His hips started to roll into yours. You glanced at him, confused about what in the hell he's talking about. Until you remember what tonight actually was. “Don't you mean our accomplishment?” You said while cupping his cheeks in your hand and giving it a gentle but firm squeeze. Wally's eyes flickered shut, & a deep moan left his lips at that.

He had to have you and vice versa. You climbed on top of him, straddling him. Your hands went under your dress, lifting it up and over your head. Wally's eyes widen and another groan left his lips “Fuck!” He couldn't believe that he had the girl he admired since Sophomore year on top of him in only your panties. His hands flew to your hips and gave it a gentle squeeze. In a mocking tone you asked “Ya gonna take off your top big guy?” with a roll of your hips against his. He nodded his head so fast and removed his hands from your hips to lift his shirt over his head. He carefully maneuvered you further down his lap so he could sit up and take off his shirt.

Once his shirt was off, he laid back down and moved you back to where you were straddling him. Your nails run down his chest and stomach, leaving faint marks in its wake. Goosebumps broke out on his arms, and a soft whimper followed. Sliding further down his legs so you could unbutton his slacks. Slowly and painfully removing them off him, just leaving him in his boxers now. Wally's body jolted in surprise when he felt you leaving open mouth kisses down his v-line of hips. His breathing was coming in shallow and stuttering. He honestly couldn't believe that this was happening to him. It didn't seem real to him. It seemed like another dream he was having about you. It wasn't until he felt your fingers wrap around the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down that this was not, in fact, a dream, but reality. A gasp left your lips as you his is cock spring up from the confines of his boxers and hitting his stomach. Wally's face instantly warmed and could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears.

Making your way back up his body and one hand wrapped around his cock. Softly stroking him while you leaned down and captured his lips with yours. He felt like he was in heaven, his hands went around your waist pulling you closer to him. “Wally?” You whispered. He grunted in reply, waiting to hear what you have to say to him. “Can I ride you, Mr. Graduate?” You asked. Wally whined and replied “Yes, absolutely yes.” You carefully sat up right and leaned back on to Wally, pulling off your panties. “Holy fuck.” He moaned out, getting a perfect view of your pussy on display for him. You kept your legs opened just for a little longer, giving him a great view of your pussy.

You delicately maneuvered yourself to a hovering position. One hand grasps his cock, while the other is placed on his leg to provide balance. You run his tip between the folds of your pussy, letting it get wet from you. Sighs and moans flew from both of your lips and it wasn't until his tip caught on to the entrance of your pussy that you decided enough was enough and stunk down on him. A loud drawn out moan from both of you leaves your body. You paused just for a short moment to adjust to his size. Once you felt comfortable you did an experimental roll of your hips. A moan left Wally's lips and his hands made it back to your hips. Taking that as a sign to move forward, you began to bounce on his cock. Moans left both of your lips wildly into the starry night.

You started speeding up to help further along the process of getting closer to cum. His hands took on a harsher grip to your hips which pulled you into a stop. Pouting down at him a little confused “Why did you stop?” You asked. He didn't answer, instead he moved his legs into a bent up right position making sure to plant his feet in the ground. He had a harder grip on your hips and began to harshly bucking up into you so that way you both could cum faster. The change of position and speed was absolutely need and sending you closer to the edge as possible. The tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot over and over again. “Wally, I'm so fucking close.” You whined to him. He lifted one hand from your hip and moved it to work on your clit to help you fall off the edge so much faster. His finger was moving in rapid session and in time with his hips bucking into you.

You cry out his name while cumming and hitting your high. Wally himself was almost there and feeling your pussy squeezing down on him took him over the edge. He held you down on him and threw his head back a long, loud moan of your name ripped through his throat, while his cum spilled into you. Ragged breaths filled the atmosphere and Wally gently pulled you down on top of him. His arms wrapping around you and holding you close. Eventually, both of your breathing evened out, and his fingers were running down your back, calming you down from y'all highs.

A barely audible thank you left your lips. “What?” Wally asked. “Thank you.” You repeated breathlessly. Wally was confused and asked “For?” “Obviously for mind altering sex.” You giggled out, and Wally squeezed your sides in response to your silliness. “In all seriousness, though, thank you for checking in on me.” You told him. “ Of course.” He replied by placing a kiss on your head. He held you closer so he lean over and reach for his letterman to wrap it around the both of you while you stayed in each other's arms for a little while longer under the stars on the baseball diamond.

[moongirlrhea]

an azriel and his best friend drabble - period comfort

this is a drabble in the azriel and his best friend universe, but it can be read as a standalone!!! in the timeline this happens at some point before the events of the series :)

series masterlist

word count: 1.8k

azriel x reader drabble

warnings: descriptions of period pain

a/n: sooo backstory: i had a really bad period last week and it brought me back to when i used to have really bad periods in high school. like passing out and all that so: this fic is the result of that! as always feedback is appreciated, let me know what you think!!!!

She groaned into her pillow as pain pierced through her stomach. She curled tighter into a ball as she fought the tears brimming in her eyes.

She couldn’t take this, she really couldn’t. She hadn’t even known her cycle was coming, with how unregular it was, but this morning she woke to red-stained sheets and a sharp pain shooting through her stomach. And by the time she managed to get the bed, and herself, cleaned up, she was utterly exhausted.

Azriel was at training, so he wasn’t there to help her, which he usually insisted on doing. After first coming to Velaris it was utterly strange for her to have anyone, especially a male help her with her cycle, considering how her entire life she’d been taught it was something to hide, to be …ashamed of. That it was a liability that should be hidden from a lady’s husband, and well she didn’t know why exactly she correlated that with Azriel, but- Anyway. It was standard for her to manage the pain on her own her entire life, although that usually consisted entirely of whining and whimpering in bed alone.

After getting close to Azriel everything changed, and he insisted on taking care of her, which at first was mainly just her trying not to burrow herself into the ground from embarrassment. After a while, however, after first experiencing Azriel’s gentle care and the love he conveyed in it, that quiet compassion and his lack of judgement, she started to let him help her. Although she had to admit, that the mortification she was thought to feel at showing her pain to a male of all people so undeniably, never really went away. Maybe it never would, but Azriel didn’t seem to mind reminding her how there was nothing wrong with being taken care of.

She squirmed again, a big part of her wishing he was here, unable to find a position that would ease the pain even the slightest bit. Sweat beaded at her brow and she whimpered as she lowered herself from her bed, and onto the floor.

It was cool against her skin, making her feel at least a bit less faint. Right? That’s what she thought would happen, but now her breathing shallowed and darkness swam in the edges of her vision.

Gods, the pain- Whimpering, she leaned her head back against the edge of the mattress and suddenly everything around her was blurring and-

Well, that definitely didn’t work in making her feel less faint.

-

Someone was shaking her shoulders.

“Sweetheart-” a familiar voice urged somewhere above her “Wake up, please, come on”

She groaned as she felt pain stab through her again. She was slowly coming about and slowly the realization that she knew that voice washed over her. Gods, what had happened?

“Az?”

“Thank the Mother,” the male crouched above her exhaled in relief “Can you open your eyes for me, love?” he asked in such a soft voice, that she couldn’t not try to.

She cracked her eyes open and looked at Azriel through squinted lids, vision still swimming. But he was already grabbing her forearms and helping her sit up. His touch was so, so gentle as he fussed over her that it had tears brimming in her eyes all over again. Suddenly her best friend’s eyes widened and snapped to hers.

“You’re bleeding. Did you hit your head? What happened, where are you hurt?” The questions were coming at her one after the other, though it was obvious by the pinch of his expression and the furrow of his brow that Azriel was trying extremely hard not to sound too scared. The unconcealable worry in his eyes gave him away.

Had she passed out from the pain? The answer was obvious in her mind and her stomach sank a bit as a pang of embarrassment consumed her. She tried to keep her eyes glued to Azriel as she stayed quiet for longer than needed. Oh, cauldron.

“It's my cycle, Az” she sighed out finally, eyes glancing around the room. Her vision was suddenly drowned in the golden, intense sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Was it midday already? How long had she been out?

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Azriel coaxed her head in his direction by placing a gentle hand on the side of her face. His thumb was stroking gently along her cheekbone as his shadows, who seemed to have noticed her earlier discomfort, shot out to close the curtains, keeping most of the overwhelming light from the room.

“You were at training, I didn’t want to…-” her voice trailed off.

“You should have called for me, you know one of my shadows is always somewhere close” his voice was almost scolding as he studied her with such deep concern in his golden-brown eyes, it almost took her breath away.

“I’m sorry”

“You know that’s not what this is about,” he told her in a soft voice “You always call for me when you’re in pain, alright?”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder in exhaustion before replying. “And that goes the same for you, right?”

A beat of silence ensued before Azriel chuckled, his hand coming to rest on the nape of her neck, fingers brushing through her hair. “It does”

“Alright, then”

Before any of them could say something more, a wave of pain so intense hit her, that she doubled over, gasping.

“Fuck, sweetheart, where do you have your pain tonics? How long ago have you taken one?”

“I haven’t- Ah-,” she gasped as she tried to get the words out “I haven’t taken any” she managed to rasp out, finally.

“What do you mean you haven’t taken any?” she could practically feel the way he froze in front of her, the shadows that had been twirling around her frame going in tow with their master.

“They don’t help anyway” she mumbled through a whimper.

“They don’t help? Love- You passed out on the floor from the pain, for Mother’s sake you can’t-” Azriel said seriously somewhere above her “You need to take care of yourself, we’ve talked about this” he added a bit sternly.

Was he mad at her? As she whimpered from the pain again, an ugly, albeit well known feeling swam through her body. But he wouldn’t think that of her, right? “I’m- I’m sorry” she tried wetly, a bit helplessly, maybe.

He exhaled shakily somewhere next to her “No- No don’t be sorry,” she sniffled at that “Hey, you’re alright. I’m right here. I didn’t mean to- I’m not mad at you, alright?” he said as he gathered her shaking form into his arms. She was a mess, breathing heavily, almost sobbing from the pain.

“It hurts, Az” she felt a stream of salt rivulet down the side of her face.

“I know, I know” he mumbled as he placed her gently on the bed “I just need to get you a tonic, okay sweetheart?”

“No, don’t leave-”

“I know, but I’ll just be a second,” his voice was strained and unsure about leaving her out of his sight in this state. Even for just a moment, but the sight alone of her state cemented the decision for him. She needed medicine. “I’ll be right back”

She groaned as she curled into a ball, breathing heavily through her sobs. There was a muffled conversation in the hallway somewhere but she couldn’t focus at all. Her door closed and opened and a weight appeared on the bed next to her.

Someone was whispering something to her, stroking her back and head gently. But the world around her wasn’t making sense at that moment and it was only after a while that she realized who it was, based solely on the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar that hit her. But the pain was all consuming and in her state of torment she couldn’t even make out his words. A vague, unspecified amount of time passed as she lay there and at some point Azriel must have been gone again, and she heard voices outside her room. And then he was back, coaxing her to turn on her back and sit up.

She squirmed in his arms, eyes closed and face pinched as he tried to adjust her. “Just one second, sweetheart, here,” he said softly as he coaxed a bitter liquid past her lips “There you go, you’ll be better soon”

“I can’t- I can’t do this” she whimpered.

“It’ll be over soon, angel, I promise” there was urgency in his voice, as though he was trying to convince her on something but she couldn’t focus and then-. She was turning over again, intuitively pressing herself into his side. Then there was something hot being pressed against her stomach, and a pair of arms circling around her. Azriel was whispering something to her, trying to comfort her but the words were incomprehensible in her state. Suddenly everything was blurring.

-

Azriel pressed a shaky his on his best friend’s forehead as he held her trembling form in his eyes. It was torture to have to see her like this and he was already berating himself for not keeping up when her cycle would come.

Poor girl.

Thankfully, he bumped into Mor right after going to get a tonic for her, and she happened to have an abundance of the stronger dose that she got from Madja sometime earlier. And so, he could already feel his girl’s form slumping against him, succumbing to sleep.

The plan for the next week was laying itself out in his mind as he held her. He had already sent his shadows to get her favorite foods and snacks from the Rainbow, and Mor promised to ask Madja for more tonics today. So that was covered. The House would supply them with hot water bottles, so he checked that from his list. He would have to check if she was in need of more linens.

There was one thing left to worry about, however. The convincing that it will take him to get her to actually stay in bed, because he was already sure she’d be trying to get up and to work the second she woke up. But it was alright for Azriel to ease his best friend’s mind and make sure she was well taken care of.

That’s what he was there for, and it was a job he’d cherish. Until the end of his days.

taglist: @greenmandm @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @dark-night-sky-99 @ly--canthrope @azrielssgirl @topaz125 @azrielsmate3 @i-am-infinite @stressed-reader @blonde-bansheee @k-homosapien @azysmate @brekkershadowsinger to join let me know under this post

[mev-fizzah-writes]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭

A/N: This was cross-posted on AO3, and is just the backstory. Promise there will definitely be more writing soon, i've been really busy and my life is just filled with endless tasks. This was also written a while back so it..kinda sucks!! TW: Suicide, Child abuse, Child endangerment, SH, SA, Murder, Graphic violence.

Alone.

You were always alone.  

In the rowdy clubs, your mother dragged you into, alone.  

The school halls, alone.  

The run-down food courts, alone 

It was peaceful though, as peaceful as Gotham gets really. You and your mother against the world, or so you told yourself. Deep down, you were aware of her late-night partners and the way she indulged in moments that blurred your reality. It was just drugs—everyone did them... It never crossed your mind just how foolish she was being. Perhaps it was her drooping eyes that gave her an air of tranquillity, or how she cuddled you when the alcohol clouded her judgment. Maybe it was simply that she didn’t hit as hard when the redness overtook her gaze.  

She wasn’t a good mother; you understood that from the moment you could understand language.  

No mother should ever let their child know they’re a constant reminder of deep-seated failure, yet she did. But she was all you had, and so you clung to her hand—the same hand that marked your skin with black and blue bruises—hoping, just hoping, she might hold you back, if only once.  

You don’t ever remember her holding you.  

But it didn’t bother you, not really. Touch was never something you craved anyway. Still, it would have been nice, just once, to feel her warmth against you for one last time before she slipped away into a pit that she dug within her mind.

How could you have known? It was just like any other Friday afternoon.

The winter mist hit your tired eyes, making them sting just like your bruised lip. It was another fight, the same two idiots that always got on your nerves. Today they decided to pick on some small street kid, you had seen his curly head of hair before. He lived on the floor above or used to, it had been a while since you heard a complaint from his mother. It was normal for the kid to get in trouble, and of course, you had to throw yourself into his trouble.

Jason, was that his name? He was maybe a few years younger than you, you can never tell with the small ones, but recently he seemed healthier. It was almost as if he had been eating well, but he still had that look in his eyes.

Desperation, to prove himself.

You couldn’t help it, the kids on your street always pulled on your heartstrings. So you helped him out and got injured in the process. Just a small busted lip, nothing you hadn’t dealt with before. Plus you had other things to worry about, like peeling mom's ‘work’ clothes off and making sure she’s clean.

Mom, probably, didn’t cook and most likely didn’t eat so that’s another thing you have to take care of. Was there even anything in the fridge? 

You can’t remember, you’ve been living off your friend's school lunches since Mom deserved fresh homemade food. Lately, her boss had been giving her longer hours, some nights she would come back covered in hickey-like bruises that made scrubbing her wince in pain when she lay down. You didn’t like her boss, whenever she complained about him it sent a shiver crawling down your back, all you can remember about him is his calloused hands. You hated his hands, they were rough and seemed to have a mind of their own. You shook your head, pushing the thought of Kyle away, getting home mattered. With a turn of the corner, you were met with home. Once vibrant red bricks now a withered brown, poking from the badly painted grey that matched the concrete entrance. It was bleak, it had dead trees tethered around it, somehow still standing. The old stairwell creaked with every step you took, usually, you would rush upstairs but today your legs felt like they were going to crumble apart. The thought of turning away gnawed at your brain the closer you got to your door. The familiar croaking of the wood underneath your feet now felt threatening, you rubbed your index finger against your thumb, and your hands now felt clammy. In your pockets lay your keys, yet you felt like there was no need to pull them out. In front of you stood the tall red door to home, was it always towering over you? It was almost suffocating. The worst part of it all is that it’s quiet, why is it quiet? The usual lively hum of the building seemed to be non-existent. It wasn’t always a happy hum but there was always a hum-where is the hum? The silence was deafening, it was like the world had been put on pause. You pressed your ear against the door, hoping to try and hear the clinking of bottles or the sound of an obnoxious static-like laughter instead you almost tripped over yourself. 

The door was unlocked.

It feels like all the air in your lungs has suddenly been pried out, the sound of the creaking door sends a jolt of fear up your body. The familiarity of the apartment was now shattered, replaced with chilling wariness. The chaos was gone, every surface seemed to be wiped spotless and the clutter was just…gone! The once broken glass was replaced with a sterile orderliness that made your heart drop. You had only seen the apartment be clean a few times and it was usually met with the sight of a dear mother and a few syringes around her. In the corner of your eyes, you saw the bathroom light flicker, everything in your mind was telling you to run, just go get the neighbours, it was the safe thing to do. But your heart, your heart needed to see her, your heart needed to see her just cleaning the bathroom. That’s all she had to be doing, it was Christmas soon, so surely she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

“Mom? Mom…” Your pathetic voice called out, your legs moving faster than your mind. As you reached the door you felt your jaw drop. The white lights bounced of the wall tiles and landed on your Mothers face. She lay in the bathtub, her breathing laboured and her eyes low. The flickering light distorted her shadows, along with the shades of the empty bottles and forgotten syringes. Your eyes widened with fear as the stench of it all hit your nose like a drunken Saturday punch, you felt your hands shake and your knees buckle. “Mommy?” You called out, a sob bordering your lips as you dropped your jacket and climbed into the bath next to her. No matter how much you shook her cold body, there was no response.

“No. No! You can’t do this to me again…please,” the tears pooled in your eyes, but you wouldn’t dare to cry. Not until she responded.

“I love you my little Luna…tic.” 

It was weak, and her voice was hoarse. It was already so far gone, there was no emotion behind her eyes but she managed to bring her hand to your face. She rubbed her thumb against your cheek, rubbing a stray tear that escaped your eyes, there was no car in the gesture. You felt her blood smudge on your face as her wrist went heavy and her arm fell to her side.

It was only until you felt the heaviness of a blanket being placed over your shoulders that you finally snapped out of whatever you were doing. The day was a blur, you didn't even know why the cops had been called. The silence around you was loud, it was overwhelming. No one in the station spoke, they acted like a sigh would break you. Your nails dug into your palm, what a load of shit, no one even seemed to care. Expect one man, he had a thick bushy moustache and he was the only one looking at you-no he was staring at you. It felt like a spider was crawling down your back with the way you shivered. His eyes were tired, probably like yours at the moment, but he couldn’t stop staring.  

His face remained neutral as he spoke but inside a bubble of confusion sat inside him. Commissioner Gordon had seen those eyes before, he had seen those shaken hands and he had seen the anger. There were loads of kids like her who had the same pitiful look in their eyes, but he had seen her eyes before. He had seen them on a boy years and years ago. He felt his mind blank for a second, he couldn’t help but stare. Not only did this add to his increasing headache, but it also made the girl's case worse. The funny thing is, the mother's body had clear signs of struggle, there were clear fresh, red hand marks on the woman's neck. But the worst part? The kid knew.

You knew. It was obvious that someone else was with her, sure Mom was a ditz, but she knew not to leave the door unlocked. There was no point in sitting here crying over her, there was no point in crying. You shut your eyes, feeling the panic slowly set into your mind.

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 9

Blake: *glaring daggers at Jaune*

Ren: ... Jaune, what did you do?

Jaune: *shrug* I stated the obvious. *Point to the cat ears* It's not like she even TRIED hiding her identity. *Doing a little wave at her, with a smile*

Blake: *looking furious*

Ren: ... But why the antagonisms?

Jaune: If i told you it keeps her from thinking about running away from here, you'd believe me?

Ren: ... Does it have anything to do with what happened at the docks?

Jaune: ... No?

___________________________________________

Team RWBY: *arriving at the docks after Blake was "forced" to explained her backstory to her team*

Blake: What the-

Jaune: *speaking with one of the White Fang which is already in handcuffs* Oh don't get me wrong, i don't like the SDC one bit, but-

Ruby: *perplexed to see her friend here* Jaune?

Jaune: *turning to see them* Oh, hey gang!

Yang: *looking at the bunch of White Fangs being arrested by the police* What... Happened here?

Jaune: *shrug* They tried stealing a shipment of Dust. And hey, i'm the first person to say that the SDC suck-

Weiss: Hey!

Jaune: *smiling* Weiss, your father is the main reason why Vacuo is dirt poor. And they refuse to send dust to Menagerie.

Weiss: *pointing at the faunus on the ground* Because of them!

Blake: *frowning at Weiss*

Weiss: *rolling her eyes* The terrorist, not the faunus.

Jaune: *taking a pamphlet from his pocket* Actually, the embargo debuted BEFORE the White Fang was even a thing. So it's totally because of segregation, Weiss.

Weiss: B-but-

Jaune: *cuting her with a smile* Anyway, that's not important for now. What's important is that the situation was de-escalated and that nobody was hurt.

Blake: How!?

Jaune: ... I called the authorities? *Shaking his head* Blake, they are civilians, not trained soldiers. Heck, it wasn't even hard to explain to them that if they cooperated, they wouldn't be tried as terrorists, but as thieves.

Black: *who had a "perfect" speach ready* Uh!?

Grunt: ... He also knocked out most of our heavy hitters while WALKING to them with a smile. And we were shooting him! So uh... Yeah, we aren't dealing with that.

Yang: That's badass.... *Smirk* And frightening.

Jaune: *Sigh* It also hurts like a bitch. *Chuckle* I wouldn't recommend it. *Picking up one of the guns* The only reason it worked was because they were using subsonic ammunitions of 9mm.

Grunt: *sigh* The guy, Roman, said it was for discretion. If it wasn't of that, we would have been fine.

___________________________________________

Ren: You did steal her moment, no?

Jaune: *shrug* Meh, it's not like that's going to be the last time... Also, duck.

Ren: *perplexed* Duck? *Get hit behind the head by a creampie Blake tried to throw at Jaune* !?

Silence in the cafeteria

Nora: *jumping on the table* I'LL AVENGE YOU! *Throwing a fish at Yang by mistake* Oops...

Yang: *her semblance activating with a grin* FOOD WAR!!!

___________________________________________

Velvet: *under a table with Coco and Russel* You want Coco expertise?

Russel: Yeah!

Coco: ... Your team did bully V, why should i help you?

Velvet: *frowning* Coco, Russel's a good guy. And even the rest of his team aren't really that bad. *Sigh* Cardin was mainly angry because the white fang kept attacking his mother's store.

Coco: ... *Sigh* You are too good, V. *Looking at Russel* What do you want?

Russel: W-well, i-

Dove: *taking cover* Oh, hi you Velvet. You were still interested in coming to the arcade with us?

Velvet: *smiling* Hey Dove and yes! But i was wondering if my team could come?

Dove: Don't see why not. *Cardin falls next to him* Hey big guy, Velvet wants to know if she can bring her friends with her to the arcades?

Cardin: *shaking off the food from his head* Uh? *Looking at Velvet with a slight blush* Oh uh, yeah, sure. *Picking up a plate as a shield, going back into the melee*

Dove: *looking for a "weapon", picking up a breadstick and following his leader*

Coco: uh... They do seem a lot nicer. *Looking back at Russel* So back to my help.

Russel: *picking up invitations to a nice restaurant from his pocket* W-well i was planning to ask my girlfriend out, but i don't really have anything nice to wear and-

Coco: Say less, i'll help you out.

Russel: *smiling* Thank you! Now if you excuse me *picking food for the fight* My team needs me! *Leave the cover to follow his friends*

Coco: ... By the way, the big guy totally has a crush on you.

Velvet: Pfft, Cardin? That's ridiculous!

Coco: Uh-huh, if you say so.