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seiyasabi · 3 years

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Idolised

(Here’s a Yandere Todo Aoi x Female Reader story :P I wrote up the layout for this a while ago, and I’m currently madly in love w him, so here we are!

Thank you all so much for your support and being so understanding of my situation. I love you all so much ;)

TW: !noncon/dubcon!, !Has a whole ass shrine dedicated to you, you literally don’t know he exists lmao, !claims he's ur bf to everyone, manipulation!, intimidation!, sort of kidnapping!, !forced cunnilingus!, etc..

Please proceed with caution!)

“(Your Name)-Chan, why didn’t you tell us that you have a boyfriend?” You slowly stop chewing, chopsticks going slack in your hand. Eyes darting towards your friend Mika, you raise an unamused eyebrow.

“What are you talking about, Mika-Chan? I don’t have a boyfriend,” All of your girlfriends look at each other, unbelieving of your claim. All giggle, thinking that you’re just being shy.

“Ne~ don’t be coy! It’s okay to tell us about your boyfriend! From the pictures I’ve seen, he’s quite handsome, huh?” At this point, you’re completely confused. Are they pranking you? You don’t have a boyfriend!

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about-“ The seat next to you slides out, and a hulking figure plops itself down on the wooden chair, the wood creaking horrifically underneath their weight.

Their arm wraps around the back of your own chair, practically engulfing you in the crook of their enormous elbow, “Hey, Pretty Girl. I’m sorry that I’m late, you know how late my classes run sometimes.”

You’re too scared to even turn towards the large man, choosing instead to look at your friends with a horrified expression. They don’t notice it, too busy ogling at the apparent eye candy next to you, “Uhm, I’m sorry, but who are you? And why do they think that you’re my boyfriend?” An awkward silence immediately follows after, the man’s hand gripping the wood behind you so hard that it creaks.

He forces a deep laugh, which sounds quite menacing. He moves his hand onto your back, his warm palm felt through your stylish top, “You’re so funny, (Nickname)-Chan! It’s alright, you don’t need to hide me anymore. I messaged your girls last week, they know about us.”

“Yeah, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We think you’re both so adorable,” They practically fawn over the two of you, trying to push you closer into each other’s arms. The man next to you takes this in stride, practically hauling your chair up next to his. His arm is now fully around you, as you lean in close to your hair and neck. He inhaled deeply, a satisfied grunt rumbling through his chest.

“Don’t do anything stupid, (Your Name)-Chan. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll follow my every whim,” Tears of fear and anxiety bead your eyes, which your friends take as relief that you’re no longer hiding away from them.

“Don’t cry, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We all support you wholeheartedly!”

The rest of the lunch consisted of you being extremely uncomfortable, and your closest friends being none the wiser. Somehow, they don’t notice how you constantly inch away from him, only to be dragged back to his side. Somehow, they don’t know how he’s whispering mild threats into your ear.

But, through this time, you learned the name of your so-called ‘boyfriend.’ Todo Aoi, the beast currently keeping you glued to your seat in fear. He’s so much bigger than you, so much faster, seemingly so much smarter.

“Bye, (First Name)-Chan, Bye, Todo-Kun! It was nice to meet you!” Your friends wave the two of you off, one of his large hands securely on the small of your back. His grip is bruising, controlling. Todo practically pushes you towards an unknown destination, your body only able to continue forward, whether you wanted it to or not.

“I’m proud of you, (First Name)-Chan. I knew my girl was smart, beautiful, and capable. This just proved it to me,” A small whimper escapes your throat, as fresh tears bead your eyes.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?” A booming laugh is heard, practically shaking the ground below you, causing you to flinch.

“Why am I doing this? Well, I’m doing this, because I love you. I want us to be together, so we’re going home,” He says this as if it solved all of your problems.

“But we don’t know each other, why even bother-“

“We know each other. I saved your life, remember?” For the first time tonight, you look at him. His distinct scar immediately catches your attention- this man did, in fact, save your life. Two months prior, someone or something shoved you onto some train tracks, right in front of an oncoming train. In a mere moment, the bulky man grabbed you from the tracks, and hopped back up onto the platform, effectively saving your life.

“I-Bu-But what? We met only once, and-“ He shushes you, forcing you closer to his side, his entire hand practically engulfing your waist.

“There’s no need to worry. In that Moment, I knew that you were meant to be my beautiful Princess. You need me to care for you, and I’m up for the task.”

“Princess? Sir, I think you need help! We’ve only talked once, and while I’m grateful for you saving my life, I think this is excessive! Please let me go!”

He ignores you, sighing dreamily about what the two of you will get up to. Todo couldn’t wait to add more to your shrine at home! He’ll be sure to get as much dirty clothes, used tissues, and everything else he could ever want!

Forcing you into an upper class loft building, he guides you by the small of your spine into a lift, disregarding the old woman inside. She looks at you as if the both of you are the most adorable couple she’s ever seen, making you shift in discomfort. Todo takes it in stride, practically preening under her gaze, but pretending it has no effect on him.

He nonchalantly presses his floor’s number, before placing that hand on your hip, and rubbing it in circular motions. You try to move away from him, but his grip is solid.

Before long, the lift stops on his floor, and he pushes you out. You stumble into the area outside of his front door- his home being the only one on the entire floor. The door itself has a pin pad on its handle, which he quickly typed in, once he’s directly in front of it, leading you to believe that there’s most likely a second pin pad on the other side.

Once you hear the click of the door being unlocked, Todo moves away from the entryway, and motions you inside, “Go ahead, Princess.”

In a Moment of defiance, you shake your Head no, “I think this has gone on long enough,” His eyes narrow slightly, yet you continue, practically shaking in your shoes, “I-I don’t want to go inside. Please let me go home.”

His booming laughter fills the small space, as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re adorable, (Nickname)-Chan! Now, go inside before I become angry.” The bite in his final words forces you forward, into his dark flat.

He flicks on the light switch the moment you step inside, momentarily blinding you. Once you’re able to blink away the dots swimming in your vision, you’re greeted with a fairly normal sight. The living room, kitchen, and dining room are conjoined in an open concept, making the large place seem even larger. Two hallways branch off on either side of the large room, most likely leading to a master, a guest room, bathroom, and an office.

“What do you think? I read in a magazine that women like clean homes, so I deep clean this flat at least once a week.”

You aren’t sure what to say, but you nod along anyway, “Yes, it’s very nice.” He beams down at you, cheeks practically stretching to the fullest extent.

“This shows that I know how to make women happy! I believe that’s a redeeming quality,” You awkwardly give him the side eye, “Oh, don’t look at me like that, silly girl! I have many more redeeming qualities if that one isn’t good enough. Now,” He clasps your shoulder with a large hand, “Why don’t I show you our bedroom?”

“Our?” Your eyes are practically bugging out of your skull, as he nods gleefully.

“We’re a couple, aren’t we? And couples share everything with each other.”

With that, he practically drags you down the left hallway. There’s only one door at the end of the hall, signalling that this is the master bedroom. With one hand, he pushes open the door, before coaxing you inside. His hand that was previously on your shoulder migrates to the bottom of your spine. The room is a mixture of black and your favourite colour, showcasing that this room is the both of yours.

The bed is quite large, most likely to accommodate your large captor and yourself, “I thought you’d like that your favourite colour is in here.”

You say nothing, tears beading your eyes. You wring your hands in anxiety, as he leads you to the bed. He sits you down on the edge, before kneeling in front of you. Todo leans forward, resting on your thighs, all whilst still practically towering over you even when sitting.

“Why’re you crying, Princess? There’s no reason to,” He swipes under your eye the moment the first tear falls.

“Why am I crying? You must be joking! You-you just kidnapped me!” He shushes you once more, causing a spark of anger to course through you. He hasn’t listened to a single complaint you’ve voiced! “Stop doing that! It’s rude! I’m allowed to be upset-“

With two massive hands, he forces your thighs open, “I know your work has you stressed, Pretty Girl- why don’t you let me calm you down?” He pushes his hands up your thighs, your skirt barely covering your pussy, allowing his thumbs to ghost over your panty clad cunny.

You try to thrash out of his hold, pushing against his hands, “No! Let go of me!” Your thrashing does nothing, as just the weight of his forearms we’re enough to press your thighs to the bed. His left hand rubs against your clit and hole, trying to make you as wet as possible. You try to push against his forearms, but he presses down harder.

His thumb rubs fluidly over your clit in an even pressure. Your hips press up, trying to buck him off, but it only causes him to press down harder. In no time, you’re growing wet against his ministrations. You choke back your whines, smacking his arms, before pushing against his head which hovers just above your cunt.

“Do you feel that, Princess? You’re getting so wet!” He suddenly presses his open mouth against your mound, tongue matching pace with his thumb. A moan escapes your throat before you can stop it, halting the large man in his tracks. You sound so perfect to him!

In one swift motion, he yanks your panties down your legs, and tosses them onto the mattress beside you. You try to close your legs, but it’s no use. I’m seconds, he has your thighs presses as far open as they can go, and his face is buried in your pretty cunny. His tongue dips into your folds, savouring your taste, before flicking against your clit.

His tongue rubs against your clit in swift, smooth motions, quickly causing you to grow wetter than before. Your slick drips down your cunny, coating your ass and inner thighs. More moans escape your mouth, as you writhe against him.

“Sto-Stop! Oh my god-“ He gives a small laugh at your begs, eating you out faster than before. Loud slurps and ‘mms’ are heard throughout the room, as you quickly go over the edge. Your juices squirt out of your cunny, coating his chin and his shoulders in slick. A loud keen is heard throughout the room.

The mixture of your wonderful cum and loud moans causes the large man to bust a load in his pants. He groans against you, causes your thighs to tremble in overstimulation. Todo removes himself from your pussy (not before licking up as much slick as possible), and smiles up at you.

“You’re so wonderful, (Nickname)-Chan! I should’ve done this sooner!”

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo aoi x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere todo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨5

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) threats, implied and mild violence

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: So between Friday and Saturday I’ll be doing eight hours a day for @buckyownsmylife‘s writeathon (like 12-8pm EST) but you can send an ask at any time. I will share a list of what I intend to work on and possible ideas later today if you wanna ask some questions or gab about whatever. After the last few days on tumblr and that nonsense, I think we need a little carelessness.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You walked and walked until you could no more. You stopped in front of another humongous set of gates and ordered an Uber. You waited in the dark in the shadow of the wall and a car slowed as it approached. You waved as the model and plate matched the app and got in. The driver remarked on the odd pick-up but you just shrugged and dialed.

You’d called your mom several times and she hadn’t picked up. It was almost eleven then so you gave up as her voicemail beeped once again. You dropped your head back against the seat and held your head. Everything was fucked.

You couldn’t believe it. Clark making the offer, Marcus trying to barter with him. It was all so fucked up. Five years. Five years! You never thought Marcus to be that type, shallow and greedy. Sure, he griped about money but you always made due and you thought if you had each other, it would be enough for him. But it wasn’t and he was ready to trade you to a stranger for a check.

You felt nauseous and crossed your arms over your stomach as you hunched over. You felt like crying but you knew you couldn’t. You had to get what you needed and get out. You weren’t going to stick around to argue with either of those assholes. This was the last time you were going to let your hope be crushed.

How much time had you wasted? On both of them.

You got out in front of your building and finalised the tip for the driver. You felt worse that you were going to leave your work in that cretin’s house. That he thought he could just buy you like he did the canvas. It was all just a ploy to get in your pants. And the way he said it, “I’ll fuck her either way.” Like you would fall into his arms agog and smitten.

You rushed up the stairs as your eyes began to well and you sniffled as you unlocked your apartment door. You wanted badly to trash the large monitor sitting above Marcus’ glowing tower. You wanted to shred all his clothes and take a hammer to everything he owned.

You didn’t. You grabbed your laptop from your desk and swept into the bedroom. You pulled your floral duffel from under the bed and loaded it with your laptop, tablet, and a pile of clothes. You tossed the zip-up pouch with your passport and other important documents on top and hauled it over your shoulder. He could keep the rest of it. You didn’t care if it ended up in the dumpster.

You checked the time as you closed the apartment door and headed down the hallway. It was after midnight. You wondered if they noticed you were gone. You didn’t care. You were sending every penny back to Clark, even if you had to dip into your savings; those years of squirreling away in hopes of buying a home with the love of your life.

That was what you thought he was. You just couldn’t understand how he could be so easily won over by overpriced cars and the ridiculously overdone mansion. You came out onto the street and stopped.

Where could you go? There wasn’t a bus out of town until the morning. You could get a hotel room for the night and head to your mom’s then. God, you felt rotten at the thought of showing up at her doorstep, another failure on your shoulders. You swore to her the last time you talked that you were finally getting your feet under you.

Why were you so stupid?

You dried your cheeks with the back of your hand and adjusted the strap of the heavy bag and turned down the sidewalk. There was a Days Inn not far from your place. They might have a vacancy.

You didn’t make it two steps before you heard the car door. You tried to ignore the man as you were eager to be anywhere but out in the city streets after dark. It was too late to react as the passenger door opened and the dark figure blocked your path. The driver came up behind you and you cried out as you were seized from both sides.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you shrieked, “let go of me.”

“Shut up,” the driver said as he covered your mouth and the other man took your bag.

You murmured into his palm and kicked out with your heel, barely missing the passenger with the sharp tip. He opened the back door and threw your bag inside. He turned back and grabbed your legs as you thrashed and both men struggled to angle you in after the duffle.

You pushed your chin above the man’s hand and gasped, “please, what--”

“Shh,” you were finally forced past the door and it slammed behind you, nearly catching your skirt.

You sat up and pulled on the door handle but it didn’t budge. You couldn’t pull up the locks and your fingers just slid down the switches. Even the windows wouldn’t roll down.

“Who are you? What are you doing?” you kicked the door desperately, “please--”

“Hurry up,” the passenger growled, “don’t wanna keep the boss waiting.”

“Hey! I’m talking to you--”

“And you better stop,” the driver pulled out a gun and turned to point it at you, “close those sweet little lips and be a good girl. We got a far way to go, doll.”

You swallowed and pushed yourself back against the vinyl seat. The driver turned forward and shoved the keys in the slot as the other bent around the console and reached to snatch your clutch from you. He wrestled with you for a moment then ripped it away. He took out your phone and waved it triumphantly as the car began to move.

“Please, what--”

“Don’t make me tell you to shut up again,” the driver warned as he focused on the road, “god damn maniac got me out in the middle of the night with this shit.”

“It’ll be a good cut,” the other man said, “can’t complain about a late night if I’m getting paid.”

“The boss? Who--”

“Fuck, you ever know when to shut up?” The passenger turned to glare at you, “you’re really not doing yourself any favours so please.”

He looked forward again and flipped on the radio. He turned the dial so you were deafened by the raucous tones of hair metal. You cradled your ears and huffed as you fell back against the seat. The street lights flashed down on the seat beside you as you passed and you shook your head.

This wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. But the question still remained; who exactly was Clark Kent?

🎨

You screamed as the man dragged you out of the car. The other came around to grab your other arm as you swiped out with your nails. Your ankles bent under you as you tried to stop yourself on the mosaic stonework. The large mansion loomed over you in the dark, still night. The party was over and all the cars were gone.

You writhed as they forced you through the front door and you tried futilely to shake off the larger men. Your chest hammered with panic and you leaned back as you were dragged up the stairs. You grunted as you wriggled and hissed at how they twisted your arms back and held them firmly.

“Please, please, just let me go--”

“Well, doll, we’ve come this far,” the driver snickered, “you really think you can get out now?”

“I don’t-- who are you? Why are you doing this?”

You were dragged towards the pair of pale doors that stood open as they offered a peek of the studio within. The amber glow of a lamp washed over shadows and limned the lines of the overturned easel as you were taken inside. You whined as the men stopped just past the doors.

Clark sat in the same chair he sat in for your sessions. He smirked as his eyes fell upon you but your own skittered over to Marcus as he sat on the stool by the table of paints. You blinked and batted away tears of disbelief with your lashes. His eye was swollen and his lip split; thick rope held his wrists behind his back and coiled around his torso and legs.

“What--

“Let her go, close the door,” Clark demanded, “I can handle her.”

The moment the hands left your arms, you spun but an arm caught you swiftly around the waist. You were flung back so you sprawled across the floor. You cried out as you met the polished wood and your body rang with pain.

“Hey,” Clark warned and his footsteps neared you as you pushed yourself up on shaky arms, “that doesn’t happen again, got it?”

“Sorry, boss, I was just--”

“Go,” Clark barked as he knelt and took your arm.

The doors slid closed with a harsh snap and you hit Clark’s chest as he tried to pull you up to your feet. You dug your heels into the floor and pushed yourself away from him. You turned and got up on your knees. You climbed to your feet but he was quick to block your path to the doors.

“You left so suddenly,” he crossed his arms, “not even a goodbye?”

“Fuck you. Fuck both of you,” you sneered, “I heard your offer,” you paused and looked around at Marcus, “and I heard you too. I’m not a whore.”

“Sweetheart, I know you’re not,” Clark said patronizingly, “but apparently he doesn’t.”

“Whatever, let me go, I don’t want either of you,” you snarled.

You tried to brush past him and he grabbed your arms and backed you up. “Sweetheart, I don’t have to pay for it. Understand that. And we did settle on a deal but I’m not paying for your services.”

“What-- Why--”

“I’m paying him to watch,” Clark winked, “I want him to see how he fucked up. I want him to see what a real man can do for you.”

“I’m not interested,” you tried to shrug him off but he held firm, “get off of me, Clark. We’re done. I’m sending you your money back and I don’t want to see you again.”

“Where are you gonna go, huh? No job, no prospects, no money?”

“I did alright before you, I can take care of myself--”

“Sweetheart,” he framed your chin with his hand and leaned in, “this is where we make a deal of our own…” his blue eyes clung to yours as he lowered his voice, “you can go along with it and the boy gets to walk off with just a couple bruises or… he doesn’t leave this room on his feet.”

Your eyes rounded and your lip quivered. You sucked in air and steeled yourself.

“I told you, I’m done with both of you,” you hissed.

“Uh huh, but I know you’re not gonna let him die just like that,” he turned his hand and rubbed your cheek, “besides, neither of us are stupid. I saw how you look at me and you know what lies behind those eyes.”

“No, I don’t…” you uttered and looked back at Marcus. He squirmed on the stool helplessly as he stared at you intently, begging you silently as he bit down on the gag. “Why are you doing this?”

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he trailed his finger over your lower lip, “it’s okay. Haven’t I been good to you?”

“I can’t… please, don’t make me do this.”

“Come on, let’s sit down,” he dropped his hand as his other clung to your arm, “we have some things to sort out first.”

He pulled on you and you locked your legs. After a moment, your knees buckled and you let him lead you over to the chair. He sat and drew you onto his lap. You sat stiffly as his hand tickled your lower back and crawled up to pick at the straps of your dress.

“You see everything I have, everything I can do,” he said staunchly, “I can snap his neck as easily as I snap my fingers,” his other hand settled on your knee and squeezed. He nuzzled your shoulder and grazed your skin with his lips, “and even if it came to that, I’d still have you, sweetheart. This isn’t about what I get, I know my prize, this is about you and how you want things to go.”

You shuddered and shakily touched your neck. You hated the way his fingertips sent shivers through you and his lips made your stomach churn. You stopped his hand as it crawled up your leg.

“I�� I only wanted to paint,” you said numbly.

“And did you really think that was all I wanted? A painter?” he scoffed and slipped his hand from beneath yours. He felt along the slit of the dress and shoved his hand beneath the fabric.

“I don’t… know…” you squeezed your thighs together as his fingers curled into your flesh.

“You really want to make this difficult? Sweetheart, you can’t even begin to know who I am and what I can do. This is just a taste.”

“Wh-why me?” you stuttered as he forced his hand between your legs and kneaded your flesh.

“Why not?” he replied.

He slapped your thick lightly and urged you off of him. You stood and he reached beneath his jacket as you wobbled on your weak legs and looked at Marcus desperately. He shook his head and let it slump down on his chest.

“Now, Marcus,” Clark revealed a dark pistol, “we talked about this. If you want your money, you don’t get to look away.”

You stared at the barrel as he pointed it at Marcus and lifted a brow. You flinched as your emotions swirled in your stomach and every one of your nerves was set alight.

“Sweetheart, you have one minute to make up your mind,” he pulled back the hammer, “as much as that looks gorgeous on you, I want you in only this.”

He pushed his fingers into his pants pocket and pulled out the diamond necklace. He held it out and the gems twinkled in lowlight. You swallowed and reached to take them from him.

“Who are you?” you asked as you hooked your fingers through the chain.

He chuckled and ran his fingers along his beard, “I’m exactly who you need me to be.”

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #portrait of a dangerous man #mob au #au #mob!au #dc #dcu

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merakiui · 4 years

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Heey saw requests were open so I couldn't help but come check out and ask! Will you be okay if you do a Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc and Childe with a S/O who tries to took a hit for them from getting killed by an enemy?

Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, and Childe with an S/O who Shields Them From an Attack

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You dragged him along so that he could get some fresh air and help you with your commissions. Xiao would rather stay inside, but you seemed to want to spend time with him so it’s hard to object.

Xiao definitely tried to avoid going with you, but you had kissed his cheek and said it’s more fun if he accompanies you. His weak heart agreed right away.

So not only is he there to provide moral support and company, he’s also there to make sure you’re not going to do anything foolish.

He’s already defeated multiple enemies while you looked through crates for extra materials. If he were mortal, your carelessness probably would’ve shaved a few years off of his life.

He keeps telling you to pay attention and you say you are, but then you turn away and next thing you know an arrow comes whizzing past you.

Xiao’s picking up a damaged mask from the grassy ground, wiping the grime from it, when your shout alerts him. And before he knows it you’re tackling him to the ground.

He’s surprised and a little angry, snapping at you to be more careful. Your grip on his shirt tightens and he wonders what’s gotten into you.

When Xiao places his hand upon your back and finds the arrow sticking out of it, he freezes. You just...shielded him from an attack. And in the process you ended up getting hurt.

Warm blood coats his fingers and you’re doing all that you can to avoid bursting into tears in front of the stern adeptus. He sits up with you, wasting no time in swiftly defeating the archer hilichurl. His anger can be felt in the way he attacks mercilessly, showing no sign of letting up until the hilichurl has fallen to the ground.

Xiao can’t believe you, a mortal, would shield him, an immortal, from an arrow. He knows you love him, but to so readily take a hit for him—it’s surprising.

“You...” He wants to call you stupid, but you were only thinking of his safety. Instead he chooses to pacify you rather than berating you for something that has already happened. “You’re going to be okay. It doesn’t look that bad.”

He tends to your injuries to the best of his ability and then will bring you back to Wangshu for further inspection. Once the arrow is pulled out and your injury is cleaned and bandaged, tears finally spring from your eyes. It really, really hurts and you feel bad for making Xiao worry on your behalf.

He’s just relieved you’ll heal normally. But in the future he doesn’t want you to endanger yourself for his sake. After all, he’ll be perfectly fine if he takes a hit that would be fatal to most.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” you admit, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re an adeptus, but it would’ve hurt me more if I’d just let you get hit.”

Xiao sighs, taking your hand in his. “I guess it’s fine... Just don’t do it again, okay?” Deep inside, he’s truly touched that you would throw yourself in front of danger just to protect him, but he doesn’t want this to become a recurring thing for you.

🔶 Zhongli 🔶

You had taken Zhongli out to find some Cor Lapis and other ores you were in desperate need of. He suggested buying them from the locals, but he didn’t bring any Mora and you knew of a few abandoned mines where you could get them for free.

With that logic cemented into place, you and Zhongli headed off for the areas you had marked on your map.

It wasn’t a difficult trip; the two of you worked diligently in clearing any enemies that got in your way and eventually you had made it to the first cave.

Zhongli was reciting the history of Liyue caves and their monetary benefits while you climbed over rubble and debris from past accidents. You’d almost tripped once, but he had caught you out of reflex, seemingly unbothered with your clumsiness.

All was going well. You’d mined a lot of ores with Zhongli’s help and the two of you were about to move onto the next cave when the ground above seemed to shake. Briefly, you glanced up, wondering what could be causing such a disturbance.

“We should be careful. There might be a Ruin Hunter around,” you told him as you navigated through the winding tunnel. Zhongli nodded in agreement with that, easily stepping over fallen stones.

Before you knew what was happening, the entire cave was shaking as another loud explosion resonated from above. Debris from above trickled down like snow and you cowered for a moment, expecting a cave-in.

It was silent for a few minutes and you figured the threat must’ve passed. Zhongli waited for a moment as he listened to the silent, musty air.

Just as you breathed your sigh of relief, the ground shook ten times harder than before, and stones larger than the ores you had mined were raining down at once.

The initial shock was more than enough to have you running for the entrance, pulling a very confused Zhongli along. A stone larger than your foot comes falling, and it’s about to hit Zhongli on the head.

To avoid an accident, you shove him to the front and the rock hits you instead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t on the head, but it did hit your ankle hard.

You’re worried you’ve sprained it after you fall to the ground, more stones pelting you. The next thing you know, Zhongli picks you up in his arms and carries you out of the cave before it can collapse entirely on the both of you.

Concerned for your safety, Zhongli observes your injuries. You’re bruised and your ankle does look sprained. He asks if you can stand and when you try he frowns. It looks like you’re going to need to rest up for a few days.

Zhongli will help you the rest of the way back, occasionally stopping so you can give your legs a rest. He expresses his gratitude and is rather surprised that you would go out of your way to take the hits of many stones and rocks.

Despite being thankful, Zhongli hopes you won’t do this again because he doesn’t like to see you in pain. If you’re hurt, he feels hurt and that’s the last thing he wants.

🔥 Diluc 🔥

A group of slimes were hanging around the winery again and so Diluc went off to deal with the problem. He didn’t expect there to be so many, though.

You had tagged along just in case something like this were to happen. And even though Diluc is strong enough to handle so many enemies, these slimes just kept coming.

It was difficult to deal with all sorts of different slimes: Electro, Anemo, and even Cryo. Despite the fact that he didn’t want you to endanger yourself—he insisted he could handle it—you still did what you could to help.

Once you were certain all the slimes were defeated, Diluc sighed, leaning against his weapon to relax after so much fighting. His back was turned and he didn’t notice the large slime creeping up on him.

You jumped in just in time to prevent the slime from hurting him. It had been a quick reaction, one that you hadn’t thought through entirely.

The Cryo slime is freezing to the touch and as soon as it hits you an icy cold envelops you. You try to look strong in front of Diluc, but it’s just too much and you fall to your knees, shivering while the slime looms over you.

Diluc witnessed the entire thing when he first noticed you jump into action and he’s very surprised to find that last slime. He defeats it at once before dropping down to check your injuries.

You aren’t exactly wounded, but you are very cold. He’s ashamed at himself for not paying closer attention to his surroundings.

While Diluc is grateful that you protected him, he’s disappointed that you’d put yourself in harm’s way. You should’ve just let the slime hit him.

He sheds his coat and drapes it over you, using his own Pyro element to start a fire that’ll have you warm in no time.

“You didn’t have to do that. But...thank you. Next time don’t do anything reckless. You’ll hurt yourself,” he says while checking your body temperature.

“But I wanted to keep you safe, Diluc! You already defeated so many slimes. That last one could’ve done some serious damage.”

He’s touched that you’d worry about him, but he doesn’t want you to do something like that again. It’s upsetting that you got harmed as a result of him and he wants to make sure you’re truly okay.

You drag Diluc under his coat so that his body heat can warm you up faster. And even though he tries to get out of it, he doesn’t complain too much.

It’s hard to be upset at the person he loves so much, especially if they were the one who protected him.

💧 Childe 💧

You and Childe were picking through some ruins, searching for chests and other valuable materials. You were careful to avoid any enemies, as the last thing you wanted to do was fight a bunch of slimes and hilichurls.

Childe fought them in your place, eagerly defeating them while you remained on the sidelines.

Everything was going well until the two of you stumbled upon a Ruin Guard that was slumped over, docile and not yet awake. Childe looked over at you and then at the Ruin Guard and then back at you, grinning madly the entire time.

You could only face palm and shake your head, grabbing his arm and gesturing in another direction. You’d encountered enough monsters today; you definitely didn’t want to waste your energy on a rust bucket. But Childe, who had only been fighting small enemies up until this point, was itching for a bigger opponent.

So he rushed ahead despite your quiet protests. And you were stuck having to watch as he sparred with the Ruin Guard.

You would’ve left it up to him if you hadn’t noticed the second Ruin Guard awakening from its slumber, having been disturbed by the commotion.

One Ruin Guard was already an issue, but now you’ve got to deal with two. You can only sigh as you run in to defeat the second one, hoping it won’t take up too much of your time.

Missiles are everywhere; they’ve nearly destroyed the ground and have cracked the already eroded stone pathways. You’ve nearly fallen victim to them a few times now and if it weren’t for Childe’s quick thinking you would’ve been crushed by their mechanical feet.

The first Ruin Guard falls before the two of you in a heap of exhausted, overheated gears and Childe twirls his bow, a glint of madness of his gaze.

You would’ve called it a day if it weren’t for the other Guard aiming for him, missiles completely locked onto his form.

Without thinking, you jump into action, pushing Childe away before he can be hit. In the process, the missiles slam into the rock formation above you and it comes tumbling down in a dusty rumble.

Now it’s Childe’s turn to save you and he’s quick on his feet, pulling you away before you can be buried under heavy stone. The two of you tumble and you scrape your arms and legs in the fall, doing all that you can to shield your boyfriend before he seriously injures himself.

A particular sharp piece of rubble slices the length of your arm and while Childe recovers to finish off the Ruin Guard you clutch your injured arm to stop the blood flow.

Once the Ruin Guard is defeated, Childe goes over to you, bending down to get a look at your arm. “It’s definitely going to need some work,” he jokes, hoping to put a smile on your face. “Don’t worry. I’ll have it patched up in no time. You can count on it.”

And while he wraps it up, he thanks you for your help. Without it, he would’ve been the one with more injuries than you. And even though he doesn’t mind getting hurt in a battle he doesn’t want you to injure yourself as well. So next time you want to protect him, make sure you won’t hurt yourself in the process!

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verymuchimmortalcat · 3 years

Text

To Have Several first Meetings

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month Day 1: Meeting for the first time

ao3

@maribat-bdbwm

Marinette had known she was adopted since she had been twelve and had a project about genetics in school. Her parents had explained to her that her mother had given her up for adoption since she wasn’t in a situation to take care of her and didn’t think her father would be able to. Marinette’s mother had passed away soon after and while Tom and Sabine had her father’s information neither of them had ever contacted him. They left the option up to Marinette, and at the time she hadn’t cared, she had two loving parents and she was happy.

.oOo.

Marinette meets Batman for the first time when she’s 14. Wonder Woman had been in contact with them from the beginning of the hawkmoth situation, but after Heroes Day Batman insists on speaking to the them. As they enter the Watch Tower she can feel Cat Noir buzzing with excitement next to her. She’d laugh but she’s too nervous to do so.

Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman are waiting for them. Marinette’s glad there aren’t more heroes around, Cat Noir looks like he might explode in excitement. They sit down at the table and Batman speaks first, “You need training.”

She’s well aware of that, but the way Batman says it irritates her, but she ignores it. She’s here because Diana asked, and because Batman is right about their lack of training.

Superman speaks up then, “We can help you with that. You can use Titans Tower for your training-”

“-And due to the nature of the threat you face, the two of you and the rest of your team is welcome there anytime.”

Marinette doesn’t point out that the rest of them are temporary heroes, it will probably alarm them more. She knows Cat Noir is probably jumping at the offer but she wants to know “why?”

Batman’s the one to speak, “if you’re going to protect Paris, then you’re going to need to be trained well.”

Marinette doesn’t know why Batman has a sudden vested interest in Paris’s safety but she’s going to go along with it. They do need the training and it will be nice to talk to more heroes their age.

“And the Justice League won’t interfere in Paris?”

“No.”

“None of them? You have a very large team and not all of them are here at the moment.”

“I will ensure everyone is informed.”

Marinette drops it, Batman sounds sincere.

.oOo.

Cat Noir and Ladybug make their first appearance in Titans tower that weekend. Cyborg and Nightwing are the ones waiting for them. They meet a lot of heroes. There’s Robin, Red Robin, Superboy, Wonder Girl, Kid flash, Solstice, Ravager, Beast Boy, Raven and apparently there are more of them usually but those are the ones she meets.

Civilian names are a whole another thing. Ladybug, Cat Noir and the Bats don’t share theirs but then there are the others. Cassie of course doesn’t have a secret identity. And Kon, Bart, Kiran, Rose and Gar don’t really mind telling another super hero. It’s a bit weird how forthcoming they are with their identities, Marinette’s had the no sharing identities rule hammered into her head for over a year now, and meeting the Teen Titans is making her question that rule.

As time passes and the miraculous team grows larger and the heroes become permanent, Titans Tower becomes steadily more occupied during weekends and training relaxes into hanging out.

They still train of course, the bats help with figuring out hawkmoth and Mayura’s identities, pretty much everyone helps with the actual fighting, and Raven helps with the more magical aspects. She meets pretty much all of the teenage superhero community over the course of a year. It’s pretty cool.

.oOo.

About a year after they start their training, they figure out Hawkmoth is Gabriel Agreste and Mayura’s Nathalie Sancouer. It’s not surprising but she knows they’re all worried how it’s going to affect Adrien, who as they learn is Cat Noir.

Marinette is fifteen when Hawkmoth’s reign over Paris ends.

Paris celebrates for days. But Marinette can’t bring herself to feel anything anymore. It’s not that she hasn’t been dealing with her emotions with the constant trips to the tower it’s just not letting herself feel anything in Paris becomes normal.

Her parents start to get worried and as much as she would love to calm down their fears she can’t. Luka, Juleka and Alya are the ones who join forces to convince her to reach out to her biological father.

When she gives in and asks her parents, they give her his contact information happily, assuming that’s what had been bothering her all this time. Marinette doesn’t correct them.

It takes Marinette a few weeks to call him but she does call him.

.oOo.

It turns out he already knew about her; he had just figured waiting until she was older was the better approach. Marinette wasn’t really sure what to make of that but he had invited her to his house in Gotham to spend a week getting to know him and the rest of his children.

Marinette accepts his offer happily. It would be nice to learn more about her father and his family (beyond what her research turned up with, Gotham reporters didn’t seem very sensible), and get out of Paris for a while.

.oOo.

Marinette is met by M. Pennyworth, who’s their butler, at the airport. Her parents had let her come on her own after M. Wayne had assured them that she would be safe. There had still been an unnecessarily large number of people to send her off at the airport, though.

Their ride to Wayne Manor is filled with a good amount of nervous rambling, from Marinette’s part. Alfred (he had insisted upon being called so) asks her about school and friends and Marinette goes on a lot of tangents as she talks about everyone in Paris.

There several people waiting at the entrance when they reach the Manor. If she wasn’t anxious about meeting her family, she would probably be more amazed at the beauty of the Manor and the surrounding grounds.

She waves awkwardly at them and says, “hi, I’m Marinette.”

The shortest boy among them, Damian she believes, turns away and walks back into the Manor. Her father turns as if to follow him but he’s stopped by the second tallest of her siblings, Marinette doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the idea of siblings but she finds she quite likes it, “I’ll go check on Damian. Bye Marinette, see you around.”

She waves at him silently and all of them fall into silence, Alfred having left them. Would it be too late to turn away now?

There aren’t enough pictures of Bruce Wayne’s children on the internet, with the exception of Tim Wayne, for her to recognise all of them but she's pretty sure the one who finally breaks the silence is Jason Todd, returning from the dead created more than enough reading material for her research.

“I'm leaving. Nice to meet ya,” and then heads off. None of the others seem to think it’s strange, so she doesn’t dwell on it.

Mr. Wayne clears his throat and says, “we should probably head inside.”

“Truly one of your brighter ideas B,” Tim says and the other two laugh. They introduce themselves as Cass and Duke once they’re inside and Mr. Wayne tells her she can call him B or Bruce like the others do or whatever she’s comfortable with, Marinette nods in reply. And then she’s being dragged along to somewhere deep in the Manor by her new siblings and they’re talking about some kind of prank war that they’re apparently in the middle of.

Marinette grins. This is bound to be interesting.

#is the several ony twice?#yes.#Am I too tired to care?#also yes.#I rewrote half of it today even though I've had the whole thing written for days #but then i decided i didn't like it half an hour before i posted #still dont like it but eh #bio dad bruce wayne #maribat #mbdbwm2021 #my writing

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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years

Text

Where There Is Change

Last Name Wayne

@maribat-bdbwm

First *** Previous *** Next

Okay so I know I diverged from cannon, but I think you’ll all like this.

~~~~~~~~~~

The moment that Damian agreed, they left.

She immediately placed their phones and electronics into storage, so this game would be a little more fun.

Mari "chose" the first place that they teleported to was Paris. The irony was not lost on her.

The place that kicked her out was the first place that would open up to her. But then again most of the city adored Marinette they loved Lady Scarlet even more, but that wasn't general knowledge.

She and Damian know it is a matter of time before B figures they left the country, but hey. They mostly stuck to going between super cities in the U.S. before. But right now, it mostly was her showing him around the city the museums and then getting really inspired by the scenery.

If she was prepared with several different sketch books and pencils for both of them it was an added bonus.

She knows she subconsciously picked Paris and after a few hours it might be smart to jump again. So, she let Damian decide on a place where he wanted to go. He did warn her that if they were spotted, they need to leave immediately, but she didn’t really see a problem with it.

Because granted they’re both Wayne's, and Wayne's if you know them well enough, they will be able to hand your ass back to you on a silver platter smiling as if it was the greatest thing in the world.

So, they jumped again.

This time it was her turn to be awed by what they saw.

They were in a small alcove completely hidden; in the cave they were in the face of it was covered by bushes. But looking out she saw the mountains in the far distance it appeared to be a lake no it was larger maybe it was the ocean. Right below her was a lush courtyard filled with plant she's only seen and one other place, but the heat here was tremendous, and the sea that she could see was in the wrong direction. Apart from being far, far, far too close to where she originally thought they were.

She was going to lean forward a bit and completely break through the bushes that were covering them when a hand pulled her back. She looks back and sees her little brother holding onto her.

"We have to stay hidden Nettie, are above the League of Assassins." He whispered so quiet she could barely hear him about ten inches away, so she’s not taking this lightly.

She nodded, and they stayed there, silent. The only sound was of graphite on paper.

Then everything changed.

On instinct Marinette shot out her arm, a wooden imperial yo-yo appeared in her hand, with a quick flick of her wrist she stopped the projectile, lodging it within the wood. A quick glance at her brother and she opened up portal behind him and pushed him through without a word, closing it behind him.

She knows that it’s more dangerous if they find him here than her, so she stayed behind.

She removed the projectile and examined it, a blow dart likely with poison, seeing as a liquid was seeping into the wood of the yo-yo. She created a replica of the dart and stored the poisonous one and her yo-yo back in storage.

She took a quick breath and punctured her arm where the dart should have originally landed. And fell to the ground, slumped down.

She kept her face relaxed her body limp and she felt three, four, five separate sickly deathly auras around her. She kept her breathing at minimum, light, almost as if she was asleep. They picked her up and moved her. She realized immediately that she was being taken down the mountain, taken deeper into the League of Assassins.

Five assassins she can take them. But the one thing repeatedly crossing her mind was one phrase.

'How dare these assholes mess with her family! Her little brother! They are going to pay!'

Because she is a Wayne, and Wayne’s protect their own.

She was eventually dropped in a large room, from what she can tell, if the echoes were any indication to what she was thinking the size of the room could be. There were three more auras in this room, aside from the ones she passed to get here. What surprised her was she recognized all three.

Still acting unconscious, she heard a woman’s voice, Talia Al Ghul, speak. "What business do you have to bring this child here?" It was phrased as a question but seemed more like a snarl or demand than anything else.

"She was captured on the grounds. She’s an unknown." Was what was reported by one of the people in who had dragged her down here.

Then she heard a chuckle.

"She’s awake." That voice, she recognizes that voice. Her entire previous plan was now completely out the window. So, she lazily pushes herself up, pulling out the dart once she was on her feet.

"Damn, I thought that would last a little longer." She finally looked up and saw Damian's clone, Heretic, Talia, and Al Ghul. But something was wrong, it was bothering her. Al Ghul, he, he… he wasn’t Demon, he wasn’t her Demon anymore. All she recognized now is his voice, at least that’s what she told herself, nothing else was the same as a person she once knew. The question now is why. "I really shouldn’t have introduced you to the Order, if the result would have been this?" A smirk on her lips and now standing cocky in the middle of a room full of assassins, she is stalling. He is acting like he knows her, but his aura is indecipherable, familiar, but not.

"You should not have, but then I wouldn’t be here today, to thank you, would I? After all you allowed our family to find these pits." ‘Our Family’ she dove into her memories, but now that she needed them, they were far away and fuzzy, God damn it.

"Hmmm, I suppose not. Right now, I really wish I had turned you into a cat permanently. I found the correct spell, so I actually can now." This elicited yet another chuckle from Al Ghul which had everyone else in the room on edge.

"Really now I love to see it, after all I wasn’t able to experience it before you vanished." She quirked an eyebrow at this response, but she didn’t care about his mind games, she was stalling, trying to find out what caused this change. All her mind supplied were the plants outside. Demon wasn’t good with plants, but he was with animals, so how.

"Really you don’t wanna know why am actually here?" She asked, looking so innocent, one might believe that she was there merely an accident or coincidence.

She then turned towards Heretic, death in her blue eyes was all anyone could see, but she didn’t kill him. No, she couldn't bring herself to kill him. He may have killed her baby brother, but he is

Damian’s clone, but that clone was nothing but a poor imitation of her brother. With a snap of her fingers, he transformed into a statue of a panther, mouth opening for a roar. In all accounts looking intimidating, but there’s no way to be scared of a statue.

"That was for killing my little brother." She crossed her arms now glaring daggers towards Talia.

"I wasn’t aware you had a little brother, Lady Cheng." Demon never called her Lady Cheng, no to him she was Malak (Angel), but…

That was when the pieces fell into place. That’s why the older Damian looks like a cross between Demon and Bruce. That’s why Damian turned into a panther cub. Damian is Amir’s reincarnation, the true soul of the black cat. That means, in front of her stood Ra’s, Amir’s older twin brother. That’s why he could read the journal, he is a miraculous soul. And only miraculous souls know the language of miracles, without decades of studying the script. It’s ingrained in them but only accessible after coming in contact with old magic, miraculous magic.

"One, the name is Wayne. Two that’s because at the time that I met the both of you 600 years ago, I didn’t even know I had siblings. So, get this through your head, I don’t care that he is your son or your grandson. He is my little brother. Nothing will stop me from making sure my family is safe." Her voice stayed level, emotion flitted in and out of it, in such a way that it almost seemed inhuman. For more reasons than one, she just sensed one of the Lazarus Pits.

"Scarlet." She heard gasped by the woman next to Ra’s.

"Correct." She glared at them walking closer as she said so. "My name is Marinette Wayne, and you best remember to never mess with creation. I would have thought you would remember that little Lǎohǔ (Tiger)."

By her walk over a sword had appeared in each hand, which she was now holding up to Lǎohǔ‘s neck, while the second was held right at the base of Talia's spine, almost daring her to move. The threat hung in the air, and both knew she was capable of following through.

"Well, I do believe it’s best to catch up over some tea." Lǎohǔ offered, many would have taken his offer. Because if the Demon’s head offers it, it would be your funeral if you refused, but she wasn’t just anyone. "After all we haven’t seen each other, in nearly 600 years, now have we, much must’ve happened to you."

"Hmmm... not really you’d be surprised. By what has become of my life been since meeting you." She decided to put away her blades, for the time being. Seeing as she couldn’t leave without destroying the Pits. The only surviving consequence of the Miraculous wish, cast ages ago. Now time to come up with a plan.

---

"Are you sure about this Pigtails?" Plagg spoke up.

"Ancient magic like this calls for a price." She sighed.

"We know, Marinette, but your little brother." Tikki voiced.

"I'll do everything I can to keep all of them safe." She spoke resolutely.

"But can you live with this?" Tikki asked.

"I have to be able to. Besides I'm pretty sure he is your true kitten, Plagg." She reassured.

Tikki and Plagg united their powers, and were able to destroy the pit, and every other one on Earth. Then disappeared. She opened a gate knowing what is coming.

---

Somewhere in the league of Assassins was the Demon's head and his daughter, looking royally pissed as they watch a timer tick down. Seeing as Marinette decided to freeze them with venom, so she could destroy the Lazarus Pits.

~~~~~~~~~~

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#mbdbwm2021 #maribat #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #bio!dad bruce #bio!dad bruce wayne #who was I alluding to again?#time to find out #dc x miraculous #miraculous x dc #mdcu marinette #mdcu damian wayne #mdcu ras al ghul #mdcu talia al ghul #oc twin!ra’s

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teletraan-meets-jarvis · 3 years

Text

What I Want

AO3 Link

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: While running for you lives on the lower levels of Coruscant, you and Crosshair find yourself in a compromising position. Not that you're complaining.

Click here for Part 2

Warnings: 18+, Lil bit of frisky business but not full on so rated 18 just to be safe, slight angst at the end.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Notes: Finally got round to finishing this bad boi. It's one of the first fic ideas I had since getting into TCW/TBB and I finally had a spark of inspiration to finish the ending so yay! As always, feedback/comments are massively appreciated along with reblogs. Fic is below the cut off, thanks for reading!!

Your legs were on fire as you sprinted through the busy streets of the lower levels of Coruscant. The party sector was packed tonight with the citizens of the planet trying to forget their war worries and enjoy themselves. You pushed people out the way as you continued running away from the threat, your brown Jedi robe catching on a passerby, knocking the hood from your head as you kept up your pace. Crosshair was still behind you, following closely as you both evaded the danger on your heels. Normally you’d both face it head on, but there were too many civilians, it wasn’t safe.

You were supposed to be doing a standard recon and intel gathering mission. Apparently there’d been some traders in the lower levels who were getting tight with the crime syndicates. They were getting a big enough name for themselves to fear that they’d soon partner with the Separatists, so the bad batch and their Jedi had been called to check things out while they were in-between missions. Wrecker was keeping an eye on the ship while Hunter and Tech covered half the sector, you and Cross handled the rest, which was mostly made up of nightclubs.

You’d been making your way through sweaty crowds of people dancing the night away. The pulsing beat of the music and the low lighting made it easy for you both to maintain cover as you scouted out the areas.

That was until club number three which was a different type of establishment, with deep red lighting and a smoky hue from the patrons who were puffing away on their tabac. Sections of circular leather booths filled with people who were donned in expensive, revealing clothing. Everyone had their hands all over each other, flirting, kissing, moving to the sensual music that filled the venue.

It became very clear very quickly that you two weren’t regulars and were clearly republic operatives. Cross being in full trooper armour and your Jedi robe definitely wasn’t helping.

There was a man at the back of the club, he was lounging on a ridiculously extravagant chair, an air of superiority about him. His black, clingy shirt was unbuttoned exposing his toned upper body as two people ran their hands across him. Despite the friendly attention he had, the man was staring directly at you and Crosshair, a small smirk on his face as he waved his bodyguard over who was previously standing a few meters off to his side, and whispered something to him.

“I think we’ve overstayed our welcome” Crosshair said while still locking eyes with the owner through his helmet.

Suddenly there was a loud burst, two doors swung open from either side of the owner, revealing two bounty hunters who began marching towards you both. You felt Crosshair reach for his weapon and placed your hand on his. “Too many civilians.” He just huffed, grabbed your wrist and sprinted out of the place, the hunters making an effort to keep up with you.

Which brings you back to your current predicament of sprinting for you life in an attempt to keep people out of harms way.

You managed to spot an alley way and dragged Crosshair along without warning, no time for apologies as you kept running. You seemed to be behind the strip of night clubs on this level, smoke pouring out the back of the buildings and into the upper levels of Coruscant. Cross spotted what looked to be a storage door and slid to a stop, making you do the same. He shoulder barged his way in and thankfully it was empty. You both rushed in and shut the door behind you. You were safe for now, but the bounty hunters won’t take long to figure out where you went.

You were both breathing heavily from all the running. “What now?” Cross asked as he removed his helmet. “They’re going to figure out what route we took”

You were looking around, waiting for an idea to hit you. Thankfully, one did. From the room you could hear some heavy bass music coming from the club it was connected to. You remember all the drunk people dancing and moving together, there were hundreds of people getting it on out in the city tonight, the bounty hunters wouldn’t bat an eyelid at one more. They’d potentially seen your face under your hood, but not Cross’s, you could use this to your advantage.

You looked over at the sniper “I’ve got a plan, but it involves us getting to know each other a little better” he raised an eyebrow at that, distorting his face tattoo. He very quickly connected the dots and smirked at you.

“If you wanted to sleep with me General, all you had to do was ask” you huffed and rolled your eyes at him.

“Cute. Now get rid of your armour and stash it somewhere.” You ordered while throwing off your brown robe and lightsaber into one of the open storage boxes, covering it back up with the lid.

When you turned back, Crosshair was out of his armour and standing in his blacks. You shut your eyes and used the force to sense your surroundings. You felt two life forces gaining on your position and snapped your eyes open again.

“Kiss me” you said bluntly. Cross was about to make a snide remark but he sensed that time was of the essence from your reaction. So he quickly strode over and placed two hands on your face as he brought his lips to yours.

It suddenly dawned on you that this was your first kiss. Despite being into your twenties, you never really tried anything. The Jedi order was very clear on attachments and well, if you don’t get physical you don’t get attached right? That’s what you told yourself. Except that was a complete lie since every single one of the Jedi in this bloody war was attached to their clone battalions and squads.

You were pulled from your thoughts as Cross moved closer, flush against you as he crowded you backwards until your back hit the wall. He stroked his tongue across your lower lip and you granted him access to deepen things further. They had to be believable right? That’s what you told yourself as you melted further into the sniper’s embrace.

You moved your hands around his neck as his went to brace himself on the wall, hands either side of your head.

Things got heated quite quickly. You’re not sure which of you sent things in that direction. All you knew is that your right leg was now firmly around his waist, his gloveless hand moving further and further up that leg until he was gripping your ass. You rolled your hips into his, looking for some sort of satisfying contact. Your enthusiasm caused him to groan as you ground yourself against his now prominent erection.

The door swung open, making you yelp. Kriff, right, the mission. You at least remembered to bury your face in Crosshair’s neck in feigned embarrassment so the bounty hunters didn’t recognise you

Still pressed firmly against you, Crosshair turned his head slightly, careful to keep his tattoo out of view. He spoke, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “Can I help you?”

The bounty Hunter, Bossk, took in the scene and couldn’t help but chuckle at what he assumed was a drunk couple looking for a quick relief. He hissed out a quick “Apologies-sss” before leaving and shutting the door beyond him.

You and Crosshair stared at each other for a couple seconds, chests still heaving from both the running and the make out session. You should probably get back, you haven’t checked in with the others due to all the commotion.

Except, neither of you moved. You both continued to search each other’s eyes while your bodies remained pressed close.

You’re not entirely sure what made you do it, the adrenaline, the moment, the way that, despite your compromising position, Cross made you feel safe. You brought your hands up to his face and pulled him back down into a searing kiss. Full of heat and want.

Kriff this was so wrong, you shouldn’t be doing this. You’re his General for crying out loud. Not to mention a Jedi. But that logically voice in your head was swiftly overruled by the larger part drowning in pure desire as Crosshair kissed down your exposed neck. You ran your hands up into his cropped grey hair, lightly dragging your nails across his scalp causing the sniper to groan against your neck.

Your hands drifted to the bottom half of the top of his blacks, teasing the skin of his midriff beneath it. He took the hint and stepped back, peeling the item of clothing off his toned body and chucking it carelessly onto the ground before immediately pressing back against you. Maker he was attractive. Lean, toned, battle hardened. Various scars littered his chest and back and you wanted nothing more than to give each one the attention and care it deserved.

It was strange really, you’d never thought of Crosshair like this before. The two of you always had a slightly strained relationship as he didn’t enjoy being under the control of a Jedi. He was always quiet and then when he did speak it was usually to throw a jab or snide remark.

You were brought back to the present moment when he reached up and cupped one of your breasts, causing you to moan as you dropped your head back against the wall. He leaned up and whispered in your ear, his teasing breath making you shiver with want. “What do you want, General?”

“Cross… I-“ he cut you off as he ground down against you, finally providing some of that friction you so desperately craved.

“Use your words” he teased, fully aware of the effect he was having on you.

“Gods Cross, I want you. I want all of you” you blurted out as he continued to move against you.

“See, That wasn’t too hard”

“You’re such an asshole” he let out a dark chuckle at your words which went straight to your aching core. He positioned his lips back against your ear as your hips continued to roll together.

“You don’t seem to mind” he whispered and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. He had no right to be this hot. It was driving you insane and you were loving every moment of it.

A sudden light beeping pulled you both out of your haze, it was coming from the comm link in your belt.

“General, Crosshair, you two alright? Haven’t heard from you in a while” Hunter’s voice sounded through the device, effectively killing the moment. You reached between your bodies to grab the offending device and reply.

“Yes Hunter, we’re fine. Just had to outrun some bounty hunters but we managed to lose them. Heading back to the checkpoint now.” He sounded back a confirmation before the line went silent once again.

Crosshair pulled away from you, giving you both some space to breathe again.

“We should probably go” you didn’t meet his gaze as you spoke, decidedly looking anywhere else but him as the guilt of what you’d done suddenly washed over you. Gods this was such a stupid idea.

He didn’t say anything as he picked up the top half of his blacks and started to get his armour back on.

You’d been walking back through the streets of Coruscant in complete silence. Still on the lookout for those bounty hunters just in case they hadn’t called off their search.

Once you’d finally cleared the crowds you decided to speak.

“Cross I-“ you met his visor with a sadness in your eyes before he cut you off abruptly.

“Save it. I know all about your Jedi code. You’ve told us enough” his voice was tense and harsh. You held back a flinch at his words. “I don’t need any lectures about attachments or I’m sorrys or whatever else you’re planning. Let’s get back to the ship” you stood there for a moment, watching him stalk off back towards the Marauder.

The guilt continued to wash over you in waves as you followed behind him. Fuming at yourself for being such an idiot. You’d just started to get to a good place with Crosshair and you’d thrown it all away for five seconds of teenage-like desire.

You finally stepped back on the ship, a few paces behind Crosshair, where Hunter went to greet you with a raised eyebrow at their sniper’s sour mood and your apparent awkwardness. The next few days were going to be a right bundle of laughs. You groaned internally at the thought and pushed past the rest of the Batch to the fresher, needing to wash away the emotions and lower level grime off your skin.

Continue to Part 2

Back to Masterlist

#tj writes #crosshair x reader #crosshair #the bad batch #clone force 99 #hunter #tech #wrecker #jedi reader #clone wars #star wars #clone wars fic #star wars fic #bad batch fic

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flowers-of-io · 3 years

Note

25 for eris/toland? 👀

intimate moments prompts

A/N: For some reason I was haunted by the idea of this taking place in a Everybody Lives AU, so I followed the call and there we go, now it's Fireteam Less Heartbreak! I fixed it!

Eriana's ship circles the Tower twice before she finally decides on approaching it from the side of the Courtyard. The Hangar is closed—they have to dock here, in full view of everyone, a small crowd already gathering along the railing and looking up towards the sky. Eris can already discern Asher's hunched figure if she squints.

She doesn't even bother wondering how it is that they all know; gossip has its way of slipping through the thickest walls, and somehow even from deep in the Pit some stray gust of wind picked up Eriana's bloodcurling scream as she pushed a blade between Crota's ribs, and carried it to the Tower. And so here they are, godkillers, returning victorious from a place that had claimed thousands. She watches the Tower grow larger in the window just like she had watched it shrink away before.

“The Speaker won't like it.”

“It would be quite ungrateful on his part, don't you think?” Toland raises his head from the book he is reading, sprawled in his seat like a cat. “We have just eliminated the nearest biggest threat to humanity's survival.”

“And broken an exclusion order punished by exile. And, you know...” Her eyes linger on him for a little too long, to which he answer with a bark of laughter.

“Ah yes, you're ferrying me along.”

He did ponder aloud whether the Speaker would let him into the Tower, back when they were crawling out of the Pit—he pondered many things, weak and dizzy from blood loss, word slurring into an incoherent mumble that faded into song which then faded into silence as he collapsed unconscious into the mud. She and Vell hauled him up the tunnel, almost dragging across the ground, and everything reeked of blood and dirt and sweat and Hive.

But now he is reclined in his seat with a book in hand, just as he would recline on Eriana’s couch or the armchair in his study; limbs unfurled comfortably and hair falling down into his eyes. As if nothing has changed since the day they banged on the door of his crumbling hut asking how to destroy Crota. As the ship lowers, Eris allows her gaze to wander across the faces of her other teammates—all pale and scratched, wounds only just beginning to scar over, eyes filled with both pride and heaviness of having seen things she knows will forever haunt them. Sai is resting her head on Omar's shoulder and looking at nothing in particular; Vell fiddles with the edge of his chainmail mark, flinching when he moves his bandaged hand a little too fiercely. Eriana only looks out through the windshield, towards home.

She’s never wondered what they would be when—if—they came back, how the Hellmouth would weight on them and the bond she tentatively supposed they had formed. If she concentrated enough, she could still smell the blood and mud in Toland’s hair. An ugly burn glistens on the hand he pushed her away from a Wizard with.

But maybe truly nothing has changed. Maybe when they step out of that ship they will be strangers again, and he will flee to his crumbling hut to go on looking for paths to Ascension. He did not hear his Song, after all; maybe he is still hoping to learn it, somewhere, far beyond her reach. Eris did not think anything in the world would scare her after Crota, but as the hum of the engines dies down, she suddenly finds herself shuddering at the thought.

The crowd outside is large and loud, and Sai has tears in her eyes, and Eris stands up like in a trance and stares at the airlock hissing as it depressurises. She wants to go home so badly, to see Asher’s face and Ikora’s easy smile, to curl up in their embrace and forget about dark hallways reeking of death. She wants to stay in this tiny cockpit forever, with the only people who know her nightmares and Toland’s face monochrome against the City’s colours.

Eriana tries to say something; hitches, shakes her head, and pushes the airlock. Light floods in and for a moment everything is blinding-white.

As her feet meet the metal plank, Eris feels Toland’s forearm brush against hers. For the briefest moment their fingers hook, just to curl and retreat when she looks at him—but he returns her glance, and there is a softness in his eyes she would only ever see in those rare times he laid his head in her lap, scared or insomniac or dizzy with wonder. The crowd swallows them and she is being pulled away by dozens of hands, losing sight of him between the cheers and cries and the velvet of Ikora’s robes as she squeezes her in an embrace.

They will find themselves later, on the way to the Speaker’s chambers, or facing the earbashing from the half-proud, half-furious Osiris. Maybe nothing has changed. Maybe they will meet under the archway behind Eriana’s apartment block again, and the sun will gild his scars as he leans in, and she will run her hand along them and smile.

#thank you for the feels!!!#brushing against your partner reassuringly my beloved #my fics #example no. 7265 of 'i did not beta this'#reply #eri-223 #eris/toland #ships #eris morning #toland the sarky #fireteam sad #destiny 2 #sai mota #omar agah #eriana-3 #vell tarlowe

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kanonsarchivedblog · 3 years

Text

Nightmares

Word Count: 1425 Warnings: None Genre: Angst Characters: Deidara, Hidan, Kurotsuchi Author's Note: Deidara suffers from PTSD, which presents itself in the form of nightmares and night terrors. Also, Deidara uses they/them pronouns. If you don't like that, please just scroll away. This was inpsired by Lauren Babic's cover of Lovely. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ “Deidara!” Kurotsuchi called, nearly tripping over her feet as she chased after the blonde. “Get back here!”

“Catch me first!” The thirteen year old cackled, grinning as they ducked behind a large boulder, panting softly from sprinting through the crowds. Graduation; Kurotsuchi finally became a chuunin, two years after they had. She was their kohai, their student- she would be learning beneath them and the guidance of their Tsuchikage. Next year, they’d be able to apply to become a jounin. The mere idea had them giddy, had their heart skipping a beat. An official Iwagakure jounin!

The sound of footsteps had them turning, eyes widening in surprise as they stared at three figures, the landscape around them changing. Wait. No, no, this was wrong. This wasn’t the Tsuchikage memorial they’d been hiding behind. This was-

This was the studio they’d created, that had been gifted to them to perfect their art. No, no! Not again, they didn't want to go through this again! The kiln behind them crackled, hot against their back. “Akatsuki?” They asked, brow furrowing in confusion. The strange cloaks they were weren’t fit for Iwagakure’s weather, they noted. “Don’t know, don’t care! It has nothing to do with me.” The fifteen year old declared, gaze drifting back down to the clay spider they were molding. “The only thing I wish to do is continue making my art, hm.”

“Sure, he seems like he’s full of energy,” the one in the puppet- Sasori. That was Sasori! “But he seems like the type to die young,” he finishes, gaze directed upwards towards Itachi. Uchiha Itachi- and Hoshigaki Kisame. They were the ones who brought them in.

Not again, please, not again! They tried to scream, to force their voice out, to plead and beg, but nothing changed. The cocky attitude remained. “Just who the hell are you anyway?” They asked, apprehension coloring their words.

“We know you’re aiding anti-government factions,” Kisame began, head tilting as he studied the blonde. “We’re here to give you a purpose.”

“Purpose?” Deidara scoffed. “I don’t need a purpose!”

“Alright,” Itachi murmurs, shaking his head, “that’s enough. I’ll handle this.”

No, no, no- not again, not again! Deidara panicked, their heart racing as Itachi approached, the tomoe spinning in his gaze. Please, not again!

“NO-” Deidara yelled, jolting up in their bed, chest heaving as the memories of their dream began to drift away. Another nightmare. Their gaze frantically searched the dark room, lit only by the light that spilled in through their window of one of the many neon signs that could be found throughout Amegakure. “Just a dream,” they murmured, reaching up to scrub at their eyes. “A dream.” But it wasn’t a dream. They weren’t in Iwagakure.

They were in Amegakure, in a damned tower with a Buddha’s head that sat atop it, in a village that rained endlessly. No, they weren’t home. A shuddering breath is drawn in as they draw their legs to their chest- a flat chest, one that felt right. Comfortable. A year had passed since that surgery had taken place, the scars fully healed.

Their eyes filled with tears as the adrenaline began to wane, the same moment the door opened. Head snapping up, wide blue eyes studied the figure in the door- tall. Not Sasori. No black tomoe on red irises shining in the dark light. Instead, it was lilac eyes and silver hair. Hidan. “Another nightmare?” He asked, voice gruff from sleep.

That’s right- his room was below Deidara’s. Of course he’d have heard them yell. “Sorry,” they mumbled, shaking their head as Hidan steps in, closing the door behind himself. “They’re coming more often.”

“Well,” Hidan hummed, coming to the other side of the bed,”’s close to when you were brought in, yeah?” He asked as he settled down, making himself comfortable in the pile of blankets and pillows and- was that a stuffed spider?- that made up Deidara’s bed. This wasn’t the first time.

It wouldn’t be the last.

A sigh that devolved into a whimper escaped Deidara as they nodded, face in their hands. “I didn’t want this,” they whispered, voice catching. “I never wanted this. I wanted to be good. I wanted to do good. I never intended on joining, or even on leaving Iwa. I had to run. I had to. Until I could master this,” they motioned with their hands, voice unsteady as tears began to roll freely down flushed cheeks. Pretty, Hidan thought distantly. “I was a threat. I already had this stupid fucking kekkei genkai, and coupled with the- the forbidden jutsu, I was dangerous. But I was good, Hidan. I was a good fucking person!” They yelled, slamming a fist down against their own thigh, hard enough to make Hidan grimace in pain. “I worked for my village and I had a student and now? Now, I’m a fucking S-Class to be killed on the spot. I’m only eighteen, and I’m known all across the fuckin’ nations for doing something that I never wanted to be a part of in the first place.”

Hidan’s brow furrowed inward, a hand reaching out to grasp onto Deidara’s arm, tugging them down gently to lay with him. No words were exchanged as Deidara curled in against him, their sobs soft, muffled by the back of their own hand, the fight in them extinguished just as quickly as it appeared. He could only imagine the pain that had come with Deidara’s borderline kidnapping. He’d heard some details from Sasori himself, a few from Kisame.

Itachi never spoke of it, as if he were ashamed of what he’d done. And he should be.

“One day,” Deidara whispered, breath hot against Hidan’s neck. “ One day, I’ll make it out of here. Even if it takes a hundred years,” their voice is filled with a conviction that surprises Hidan.

His arm tightens around them, holding them closer. “One day, you will,” he agrees, though he isn’t sure what he truly is agreeing with. “Go back to sleep.” It wasn’t even dawn yet, too early to rise and do anything. “I’ll stay. Just go the fuck back to sleep.” When he gets no response from Deidara, he pulls back a touch to glance down- only to find the blonde explosion expert sound asleep, brow still furrowed but otherwise calm. Their face was still wet with tears.

Carefully, he reached up, drying the tears with the edge of one of Deidara’s blankets. They were the youngest out of all of them- the youngest, the most troubled. Aside from maybe Itachi. That dude was fucked beyond belief. But Deidara had only been fifteen, just barely, when they were brought in. He remembered that day- only three months after he himself was brought in.

The screaming. The fighting. How Deidara had decked Itachi and nearly scratched Zetsu’s left eye out before Kisame had gotten ahold of them. How they screamed and growled, threatening to make this entire village ground zero, until Konan had brought them into her office.

The screaming had stopped soon after, and was replaced with sobbing and a soothing voice.

“What the fuck are we even doin’?” Hidan muttered to the dark room, though he received no response. Kakuzu was still asleep in their bed- or, he had been when he’d rolled out at the sound of Deidara’s scream. He’d half expected to find Sasori in here- but that was mere wishful thinking. The puppet master didn’t care about nightmares.

Probably didn’t even sleep.

Sighing, he readjusted, nose scrunching up at how many fucking pillows Deidara slept with. Comfort- he could get that. The kid was barely eighteen, now- and still had these damned nightmares at least twice a week. A part of him wondered what Itachi had shown him. But a larger part, the smarter part, knew better than to ask. Instead, he stayed quiet and did what he could. Which wasn’t much- but, shit, something is better than nothing, right?

He pulled the blankets up high, covering Deidara completely before even bothering with himself despite the chill in the room. He kept them close, tucking their head beneath his chin, into the crook of his neck. Sleep came quickly, sweeping over him and dragging him down deep.

It was strange. Normally, he had nightmares- hell, that’s all he ever had. But on nights like this? He didn’t dream.

He couldn’t help but wonder as he fell into the warm arms of sleep if Deidara had dreams during these times, or if he, too, was dreamless.

#m's scribbles #deidara #hidan #akatsuki #naruto #naruto fanfiction #hidadei #i personally hc & write deidara as being ftm & using they+them pronouns #if this bothers you just walk away.

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getthembees · 3 years

Note

Royai prompt: They get caught gettingiton by all of Team Mustang, pre frat rules being lifted. (Or making out, if you wanna keep it PG~ honestly I just wanna see the members of Team ‘We-All-Share-The-Same-Braincell’ finding their very professional bosses not being very professional.)

Hello sorry this took so long!! It's here now! This is also a lot more tender than what I think you were expecting haha

Title: flash flood under my bed

Rating: T

Read it here or on AO3

Riza feels herself stretched between the realm of consciousness as if her body is being hauled through a swamp. Sticky and lethargic, her eyelids flutter and fall as her mind claws at the mud. Each time she resurfaces from its depths she can take the world in for only a second—a burning light above her, a white ceiling tile, thin sheets beneath her arms—before she is submerged once again, dragged into the grime.

Her mind wakes before her body does, kicking at the shallows to keep her eyes open. Fear creeps up the back of her neck at the foreign bed under her, the unfamiliar room. She wills her body to move, to secure her surroundings. Her eyes drag to her right, blinking sluggishly at the figure there.

Black hair. It’s messy. Who is that again? A small part of her asks.

Silly girl, a larger part supplies, rattling through her entire body, that’s your Colonel.

My Colonel…

She finally blinks awake, eyes wide. Her body feels like it’s been dumped in ice water after being in a hot spring. She turns her head.

Roy does not acknowledge her movement, he sits on a borrowed hospital chair at the side of her bed, head bowed, fingers twisted in the bedsheets. His eyes are closed.

Her memories catch up with the rest of her—the tunnels, Bradley, Pride, the transmutation circle—she swallows back a choked noise. Her throat is rubbed raw from both the exertion and the yelling, her tongue feels like it’s been turned to cotton, and when she swallows again she tastes iron.

“Colonel…,” she rasps, but it comes out more of a cough than a word.

He hears it, though, and his head shoots up, eyes opening to reveal foggy pupils as he looks in the direction he thinks her head is. “Lieutenant—” he gasps, a quiet noise. Maybe he’s been swimming in a swamp, too. “Lieutenant, are you awake?”

Riza nods. Realizes he cannot see her. She hums an answer instead.

A grin splits his face, and it is a look so utterly relieved that she feels her eyes misting, “I’m so glad,” he whispers, breathless, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

She wants to answer, wants it more than anything at this moment. To reach out and reassure him with words he’ll need now that he cannot see, to talk, finally, now that the battle is over. But her throat still tastes like metal, and she desperately needs a drink.

“Water,” she croaks, reaching feebly for the table at her bedside.

“Oh, right.” Roy traces the edge of her bed until his hand hits the table leg, brushing upwards until he closes his hand gingerly around the full glass. She meets his hand halfway, closing her fingers around his bandaged skin as he moves the cup to where he thinks her head is.

Riza sits up, the wound in her shoulder smarts as she does so, but she ignores it in favor of guzzling the water, only stopping to gulp down air.

When the cup is empty, and her throat feels less like it’s full of copper cenz, she opens her mouth. “Thank you, Colonel,” she starts, she almost says I’m glad you’re okay, too. But he isn’t okay, his hands are wrapped in gauze, and he’s still blind. What a poor excuse for a bodyguard you are, her mind spits.

“How long have you been waiting here?” She asks instead, an innocent question, a safe question.

“A couple of hours, I think. Though I really can’t tell,” he laughs, but it sounds strained. A string pulled taut. “You’ve been asleep for longer, It took the medics a while to bring me here. How is your neck? Your shoulder?”

“Sore, they itch a little, too. Mei Chang did a fine job, it’s not as bad as it could be.”

His mouth creases in a thin line at the memory of her, the blood, the gold-toothed doctor. “I suppose you’re right. It seems I am indebted to her for saving my precious subordinate’s life.”

Precious. Riza ignores the warmth in her chest and eases back onto her pillow with a heavy sigh. “How are your hands, sir?” She doesn’t ask about his eyes, she knows Amestrian medics don’t have the means to restore his sight from the other side of the gate.

Roy’s head tilts down as if to look at the bandaged limb before he catches himself, snapping his head upwards like it was pulled by a hook. “The surgery was quick, and the doctor said they’ll heal fine. The cuts were clean. Neat, even.” He shoots her a lopsided smile, “still hurts like a bitch to move, though.”

Riza doesn’t have the energy to laugh, her lips quirk instead. “That’s good, Colonel.”

There’s a lull, a tension settles in the air like lightning is about to strike the very room they sit. She hasn’t felt this uneasy in his presence since Ishval. Riza takes a breath, “sir—”

“I am very sorry, Hawkeye.”

Riza freezes, staring at him. She doesn’t speak, she senses he’s not quite finished.

“I apologize for… for everything that happened in those tunnels. For losing my head fighting the homunculus, for yelling at you, for my… attachment to you getting you hurt,” he looks up, and despite the blind gaze, she feels his eyes bore into hers. “I was reckless. Arrogant to think they’d never hold you against me and a fool for thinking I was a good enough man that you would never have to pull your gun on me.”

“Please,” he begs, bowing his head. “Please forgive me, Hawkeye.”

She inhales slowly, turning his words over in her head. She remembers the terror in his voice as he watched her get dragged to the transmutation circle. “You don’t have to apologize for what happened with the doctor. That wasn’t your fault, sir. It was never your fault that they decided to use me against you. You could never have prevented that.” Roy looks like he wants to argue, she forges on, “do not apologize for being a human, Colonel. You are bound to have people close to you. Any one of those could have been used against you, to drop them for any potential threat is a foolish paranoia. Our…” relationship? Partnership? Friendship? “...proximity is nothing to apologize for. I will not have it.”

She pauses, clenching her hands against the pristine sheets of her bed. The battle with Envy flits through her head like an old film, her Colonel’s savagery seems branded in her mind. Riza takes a deep breath. “You lost yourself against Envy. You lost yourself in your anger, and you said horrible things. You almost did horrible things. You pushed me away, Colonel. But…,” she looks at him, his fingernails are digging into the fabric of his pants, knuckles white.

She remembers what he had said to her months prior, before she had been reassigned. I’ve been called a human weapon, a monster, but it’s only when I’m fighting a real monster that I realize I’m just a human. She rests her hand on his, his fingers relax under her touch.

“You didn’t go past the point of no return. You didn’t lose your humanity, Roy.”

Roy sucks in a breath, the sound rattled and hollowed. It makes him look fragile. She curls her fingers around his palm.

“So…,” she begins, her voice no more than a whisper, he leans his head towards her. “I forgive you, Roy Mustang. I’ve already forgiven you.”

Roy turns his hand upwards, slipping his fingers between hers. His eyes are closed again, and there is a small, shaky smile on his face. “I don’t know why you’re forgiving me so easily. You shouldn’t.”

“Well, I’ve never listened to everything you have to say, sir.”

Laughter bubbles from his lips, the sound warm. The knot of stress in his voice seems to have unwound. He bows his head, his forehead nearly touching hers. “Thank you, Ha— Riza.” She can make out the small, newly healed scratches on his face from this distance. “Truly, for everything, thank you.”

The hand he has clasped in hers untangles their fingers and reaches up to trace along the inside of her wrist, up against the length of her arm, her uninjured shoulder, the side of her face, until he sweeps the loose hair that falls over her eyes behind her ear. The movement is slow, tentative, cautious of her injuries and his own blindness. Riza leans into his palm and hums, a soft encouragement. She pushes up on her elbows as his finger traces her cheek, her jaw.

Riza reaches up to hold his hand in hers once more, grasping at his knuckles, brushing against the bandages on his palm. The tension that had crackled before isn’t vicious now. It is still there, palpable in the air, but it doesn’t threaten a flashover, lingering instead with the promise of summer rain.

Roy leans in and pauses a breath away from her, unsure if he’s welcome or unsure where she is, Riza can’t tell, but she huffs a laugh nonetheless. Still useless in the rain, I suppose, she thinks with a smile, and closes the gap for him.

Warmth blooms in her chest and she feels a rush of lightheadedness. This. This is what had been building in them since before the Promised Day, before the homunculi, in the budding years of their partnership. The kiss says a million things, it is the culmination of a thousand stares, a thousand late-night dinners, a thousand confessions buried under propriety and mumbled words. Roy’s palm flexes against her cheek, his other hand moves to grasp at her waist, the heat of his grip searing over her thin hospital gown. Her own hands reach up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Now that she has allowed herself to touch him, she never wants to stop.

Roy has the same mindset, the hand on her waist traveling up and down her side, never quite stilling even as it moves to her lower back, pressing gently into her spine as he tilts into her. His lips are soft, unfairly so when hers are still chapped, and when he opens his mouth to scrape his teeth against her bottom lip she lets out a noise that makes her flush spread to her chest.

They break away only for a heartbeat before meeting again. Roy leans over her now, and a reasonable voice in the back of her head whispers that, maybe, she shouldn’t let her commanding officer press her into a creaky hospital mattress in a crowded building with a door that is, presumably, unlocked.

Riza ignores this thought in favor of pulling down his collar so she can kiss the length of his neck. He grumbles low in his throat, and she feels the noise against her tongue.

She’ll be damned if they stop this now, after years of nothing, she wants nothing more than to lie with him here forever. The bed dips where Roy props up his knee, and she leaves his collarbones to seal their lips again.

And— yes, yes. She refuses to let this go— not when Roy squeezes the skin of her outer thigh, not when she allows herself to rub the wide expanse of his back through the thin hospital shirt, not when he presses his tongue between the seam her lips and makes that noise—

Someone in the room coughs.

Roy freezes just as Riza wrenches herself away from him, face flaming as she whips her head to look for the source of the noise.

Breda stands at the door, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Fuery and Falman flank him, the former of whom has turned a dangerous shade of red and has cast his gaze downwards to lock eyes with the suspiciously Hayate-shaped lump under his jacket. Falman is thin-lipped and tense, his shoulders pressed up against his neck, he averts his eyes to a space in the far corner.

Rebecca stands behind them, body halfway through the door, with the smuggest grin stretched across her face. Riza feels a headache coming on.

“Apologies for the interruption, sirs,” Breda deadpans, raising an eyebrow and shooting her a look that says, really? Riza clears her throat self-consciously. “We just came in to visit the Lieutenant.”

“We can leave if you’re… preoccupied,” Rebecca says, trying, and failing, to stifle her laughter with a cough.

Roy had settled back into his chair as soon as they spoke, his back straight. “That’s quite alright, Second Lieutenant. I’m sure Hawkeye would enjoy the company.” The professionalism in his voice belies the red of his ears. She’s sure the team doesn’t notice, far away as they are, but the attempt amuses her nonetheless.

Breda strolls in, determined to pretend that nothing abnormal has happened, Falman follows in his example, although he has yet to meet her eyes, and Fuery avoids the dilemma entirely by pulling Black Hayate from his jacket and placing him on the floor. Her puppy bounds across the floor, his entire body moving with the wag of his tail.

“Hayate!” Riza cheers as he leaps onto the bed with her, tilting his head as she scratches behind his ears. She pulls him to her chest, pressing her face into his fur, “I’m so glad you’re okay, Braha. You’re such a good boy.”

Hayate chuffs in response, leaning into her hold as his tail whacks her arms. She lays a kiss on his head.

Rebecca sidles up to the bed, brushing the fur between Hayate’s shoulder blades. “It was the Sergeant Master’s idea to sneak him past the staff,” she supplies, nodding back at the man in question.

Fuery rubs the back of his head, meeting her eyes for the first time since he’s entered. “Well, they probably saw him and just ignored it, really. He couldn’t keep his tail still.”

“Maybe a nurse should’ve stopped us. Then you two could have continued with your catch-up time,” she cackles, failing to smother the noise into her fist, and shoots Riza an exaggerated wink.

Roy huffs, his arms crossed over his chest, “I think we get the picture, Catalina.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re thinking up quite the picture, Colonel—”

“Thank you, Fuery,” Riza cuts in before the bickering could devolve further, “I appreciate it.”

Fuery gives her a nervous smile, “It was no problem at all, Lieutenant, really.”

“Still,” she looks over the rest of the group, “I’m glad you all visited, and that you’re all uninjured.”

Breda waves his hand dismissively. “Yeesh, I didn’t know you were such a sap, Lieutenant. Of course we’d visit,” he cups a hand to his face like he’s about to tell a secret, “It would be cruel for us to leave you here alone with the Colonel for God knows how long.”

“Har har,” Roy mocks as the rest of the room snickers, “if you’re going to be a pest, Breda, you should have at least brought some food with you.”

Breda rolls his eyes, just as Falman pulls a paper baggy from his coat pocket. “One monte cristo and one turkey, lettuce, and tomato sandwich from Zullo’s Deli,” he states in the same tone of voice he delivers his mission reports.

Riza thanks him as he hands her the baggy, she slides Roy his monte cristo as she unwraps her own sandwich. Hayate watches the food curiously while giving her a particularly pathetic look. “No begging,” she tells him, and he lowers his head to her lap once more.

Roy nearly groans as he manhandles his food, “Falman, you are a saint.”

Riza takes a bite of her food, savoring the taste. It tastes like liquid gold on her tongue, but, she supposes, even food from the trash would taste impeccable right now. She nudges Rebecca with her elbow, “did you bring anything for yourselves?”

Rebecca shrugs. “Nah, we already ate about an hour ago. We plan on staying here to chat while you two eat, assuming that’s fine with you.”

“Of course it’s fine, as long as you find your own chairs,” she responds, scanning the room for seating. It’s relatively barren, with there only being two guest chairs in the room, one of which Roy currently claimed. Rebecca took the other chair, pulling it closer to Riza’s bedpost while the other men in the room piled onto Roy’s empty bed.

The team recounts their friend’s whereabouts as they finish their sandwiches. The Elric’s had been admitted soon after she had, and Alphonse currently resides in quarantine, with his only visitor being his brother. Reconstruction of the Central Command building had begun as well, led by Grumman and his men.

They keep the conversation light, they don’t talk about the death toll, or the injured. No one mentions the clouded sheen over Roy’s eyes.

Riza brushes her finger against Roy’s knuckle while the rest of the room laughs at something Breda said. She taps twice, lingering a second before pulling away. His hand chases hers as it retreats, catching it and curling his pinky finger around hers. He taps back, once, twice, thrice. Repeating the motion in sync with the steady beating of her pulse.

#royai #fma #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist #my writing #this has been sitting in my drafts for like four months I'm so sorry LMAO

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blueluneacy · 4 years

Text

Bathed in Sunlight

oh boy. OH BOY! so i wrote that other kars fic and immediately wanted to write a sequel. so i did. i am going to drop dead this is all my writing energy for the week put into kars fucking

Word Count: 4.4k, holy fuck

Warnings: not sfw, marking, biting, kidnapping, yandere, stockholms syndrome, general nasties, slight breeding, dub con, threats, serious dead dove do not eat

Man, life really was kinda fucked up right now, wasn’t it? You sighed as you sat, trying to ignore the ugly feeling in your stomach. You knew that Kars was going to show up soon. He showed up every evening, bathed in the lowlight of the setting sun and just relishing in it, and god, you wondered if he just chose the time because he found it amusing that he could reach you in the light. Either way, it disgusted you. And yet, you couldn’t fight the way the sun slowly reached the western horizon, just as you couldn’t escape here. Not that you didn’t think about it, but the threat that Kars frequently reminded you of stuck in your mind, even if he didn’t have to say it. The blood that was on his shoes when he entered your room, or that you found tangled in his arm when he pulled you into a shared bath was enough. But that didn’t mean you had become the perfect little… pet? Partner? Spouse? You weren’t actually sure what Kars considered you, though you certainly considered yourself simply a trophy, a prize for his efforts, degraded and forced to be obedient, bent to his will.

Well, sort of. You found that Kars was just the slightest bit less stubborn than you, leaving you just the least bit of wiggle room. The two of you knew when to pick your battles, when to relent and when to put your foot down. Kars seemed to be worn, tired from his days of carnage and reforming the world, allowing you to bicker and squabble over things that didn’t really matter, such as what you had to wear for the day or what the two of you would eat. On the other hand though, Kars never let you make a peep over larger decisions, like what the two of you would do, or where your place was. You were expected to come to heel when he gave you that look, and you did, but not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified, terrified of what he would do, both to you and to the rest of the world. It was a terrible burden to bear, this feeling that every action you took had the fate of the world in the balance, but you couldn’t help your nature. You were stubborn, you were angry you had to be here, and you hated Kars for what he had done to you.

You told yourself that, at least. It was easiest to tell yourself that all you felt in your chest was hatred, that it was all that pang you occasionally felt was just disgust. If you continued to tell yourself that over and over and over again, it would become true. It had to be. But alas, there wasn’t time to think about everything like that, it only brought down your mood. Not that you could ever have a good mood in a place like this. While the cage was gilded, it was still a cage nonetheless, and although you were certain that whatever you asked for would be given to you, all of it was not without its price. You grit your teeth as you heard those footsteps echo down the hall, leaning against the windowsill as you looked out to the forestry that surrounded this new home. Kars loved to be surrounded by nature, but the forestry and mountainous range was also a good natural defense. Smart bastard.

You didn’t turn when you finally heard the door open, hoping Kars didn’t notice the way you stiffened up, continuing to stare out into the distance. You heard him sigh at the way you avoided looking at him, the way you tried to deny him of the prize he felt as though he had rightfully earned.

“You aren’t even going to greet your lover when he enters the room?” Kars’ voice was harsh, and you could tell he was not in the best of moods. Well, that just isn’t fair, you hadn’t even done anything to piss him off yet. But still, you sighed and turned, looking over at the man and sighing.

“Sorry. I had seen a deer, I was focused on it.” You lied easily these days. It seemed like you had become a lot better at it, your voice no longer quivering when you did, but Kars only adapted, taking in your lies and deciphering them all. It wasn’t that hard, really, you didn’t work hard to hide your vitriol, but today, it seemed that Kars pretended to buy it.

“I see. Well then, come here. It’s been a long day, I wish to relax with my darling beside me.” Kars told you, already moving to lounge on a loveseat in the room, beckoning you forward with a curl of his finger. You just sighed, pulling yourself up from your chair and moving on over to your so-called lover. You sat down next to him, only for Kars to simply roll his eyes and reach over to pull you into his lap, smiling when the only resistance you put up was a huff of annoyance.

“How was your day, my dear? I know you must be so lonely, being left alone without me…” He cooed into your ear. You just rolled your eyes.

“My day was quite pleasant, actually. I had just a fine time by myself, reading and trying to figure out how to duplicate myself so I can escape this hell.” You replied with a sneer, leaving Kars just to dig his nails into your hips, obviously annoyed.

“Oh, how wonderful. Well, that time has ended, so I suppose you’ll have to continue tomorrow.” Kars spat, and you knew that you should probably bite your tongue at this point, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to be here, as much as a piece of you relished in how you were so close to Kars, clinging to him and safe from all outside danger in his arms. But you ignored that piece, reviled it, hoped that it would die out in your time here as you let poison drip from your tongue.

“Yes, I suppose I’ll have to remember how you murdered all my friends another time.” You replied, leaving Kars just to growl, turning you around and grabbing you by the chin so tight you wondered if you would have finger shaped bruises.

“Do you think you’re the only one who mourns, dearest? You forget that your friends struck the first blow, that… That your little friends killed the companions I had before your civilization was even an idea.” He let you go, and for a moment, you could actually see hurt in Kars’ eyes, a pang of guilt hitting your heart as you desperately tried to lock away, to keep yourself from giving into this obvious appeal to your emotions. Because he was right, you knew that. But still, everyone did what they had to do.

“You wanted to destroy everything. We had to do what we had to do.” You replied, shrugging as you looked away from the way his eyes bore into you.

“Yes. And so did I. The fact that you hold me to account for that when everything now comes into equality is truly hypocritical on your part.” Kars told you. You wanted to bite back, that he’s, you know, literally caused the death of millions, but before you could, he pulled you just a bit closer, pressing your chest against his. “It’s ironic, in a way. We are truly the last of our peoples. It’s only fate that we would end up together like this.” He told you, his lips moving closer to yours as he attempted to pull you into a kiss, but you just gulped, pushing him away in your panic, in your realization that no, Kars really did love you, and it was so much more sickening that you knew that in a way, he was right, your hatred of him was a little unjustified at the beginning. I mean, at this point in time, even if you threw out everything else he did, the kidnapping, threats of violence, and the fact that he was murdering all people who dared to challenge him was enough cause for hatred, but hey. You weren’t exactly concerned with semantics right now.

“I don’t care! I hate you, I really do hate you! You’re terrible! You can keep me here, you can torture me, but you can never force me to love you!” You spat, backing away from Kars as he grit his teeth, rising from his seat and looking down at you with an anger you rarely had seen.

“Oh, can’t I? You already are succumbing to me, I know you are, darling. You just need a little more convincing.” Kars replied, easily reaching over and grabbing you by the wrist and beginning to drag you onto the bed, ignoring as you squirmed and attempted to break free of his grasp. He just growled, throwing you onto the bed and easily maneuvering on top of you, pinning you down easily.

“You’re brave, but your stubbornness is simply pigheaded. Your insistence to try and fight every little gesture I give to you is infuriating, and I intend to put an end to that behavior.” Kars told you, his voice low in his throat. Before you could even bite back, his lips smashed into yours, all teeth and tongue. You weren’t quick enough to press your lips together, forced to submit to your lover’s kiss as he played with the collar of your loose fitting shirt. You whimpered, attempting to pull away only for Kars to lean in more, not breaking the kiss until he was satisfied. He smirked down at you as he saw the way you were breathless, panting and confused, swallowing as you looked up at the Pillarman, begging with your eyes for some sort of forgiveness. But still, it wouldn’t come. Kars just chuckled, easily tearing off your top with his claw like nails, leaving you to gasp, attempting to free yourself from his grasp once again.

“Oh, darling, don’t make me have to tie you up. You will let me do as I please during this, and you will enjoy all of it.” Kars growled, before moving his mouth to your shoulder and biting down, hard. You squeaked at the pain, taking deep breaths as you felt the vampire drink from you as he pleased. You could tell that he planned on making sure that the wound stayed and scarred, the idea of being marked by the man making you clench your legs together. God, get your head in the game! There was no way you could actually like any of this, and you were going to make that clear. To Kars at least, if you couldn’t make it clear to yourself.

“T-There’s no way I’m going to enjoy this… You can’t make me enjoy anything, you sick bastard…” You tried to sound at least the slightest bit threatening, but your attempt was pretty weak at best. Kars just hummed, pulling away from your neck and licking his lips. You saw the way your blood clung to his teeth and just shuddered, looking away as your face flushed.

“Is that so, darling? Well, we’ll just have to see about that…” He told you, releasing your arms in favor of reaching down and pulling off your underwear, carelessly tossing it to the side once off. You gasped at how he easily spread your legs apart, seeing how your body was producing just a bit of lubricant, a fact you quite wanted to ignore. Kars just hummed, running a finger along your folds to gather some up on his finger before licking it off. You just huffed, looking away as Kars chuckled at your dismay.

“Don’t look away. I want your eyes on me at all times while I do this.” His voice was smooth, sultry as he slotted his head between your thighs, your eyes widening.

“W-Wait, what are you-” Your own moan cut you off as Kars licked a long stripe against your folds, relishing in the way your thighs clenched around his head to bring him closer. You whimpered a bit, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself quiet as Kars easily lapped at your pussy, his tongue pushing inside of you before pulling out and moving to press chaste kisses against your inner thighs.

“How cute, you’re already clenching around nothing, pet. Have I been neglecting you? Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be making that mistake again.” He chuckled, before moving back in, pressing a finger inside of you. He was careful about it, fearing his claws would tear you open. You just grit your teeth, trying to stay strong, but god was it hard! Kars was obviously much more experienced than you, knowing exactly what to say to make you weak kneed.

“S-Shut up, you f-fucking- Ngh!” You threw your head back as Kars added another finger, the pad scraping against you g-spot. You panted as Kars took note, experimentally prodding at the spot and leaving you to moan. “Oh, pleasepleasepleaseplease-!” You moaned out, instinctually running a hand through Kars’ long hair. You were surprised to find that it was a lot softer than you imagined. Kars just chuckled, letting his tongue run over your clit before scissoring his fingers, stretching you open. When you realized that he was opening you up for his cock, you just clenched around his fingers again.

“There we go, perfect. This is what you should be doing, begging while I stretch you open for me. Such a pretty little pet, panting and mewling just for me.” He crooned, leaving you to whine. You wanted to argue so bad, that it wasn’t your fault that his fingers just so happened to feel amazing inside of you, but you weren’t sure that you could exactly make a convincing argument for that, especially while said fingers were still inside of you. So you chose only to respond with a soft moan, bucking your hips gently, unsure if you were trying to get him to stop or get more out of the experience.

Either way, Kars took it as an act of submission, moving back down to lap at the juices now freely flowing from you before adding a third finger. It actually stung a little, but the slight pain was greatly outweighed by the desire to be filled that was threatening to overwhelm you. You gripped Kars’ hair just a bit tighter, trying to pull him in closer as he worked you open, groaning softly at the way you just gave into him. But he was too slow, too teasing for you. You needed more, and now, but you didn't want to actually be the one to ask for it. No, that was a point of pride for you at this point, trying to calm yourself down as your body got hotter and more worked up, aching to be filled by this man who had ruined your life.

“K-Kars, I, oh god, p-please, I, oh right there, w-wait, n-no more, I, oh fuck!” Well, that attempt to try and get him to stop was great. You could barely get the words out, hips rolling against Kars’ face as he chuckled, the nails of one of his hands digging into the meat of your thighs.

“What is it pet? Do you need more? Do you need me to fuck you, to make you scream so everyone in this building knows who you belong to?”

No! “Yes!” God damn it! It was like your rational mind had been thrown out the window, consumed by the desire for Kars to fuck you, mark you, keep as his, safe and warm with him. “Please, I need it, please fuck me, please?” Your voice got softer, batting your eyes in the way you know Kars liked. When you felt like Kars was going to put his foot down on something, you tended to pull out those puppy dog eyes, knowing that Kars had a hard time resisting them. But, well, apparently those eyes didn’t translate to everything. Kars just hummed, pulling his mouth away from you but keeping his fingers inside of you, leaving you to just whimper as you saw your own juices on Kars’ chin.

“But, I thought you hated me, darling. Wouldn’t you rather I leave you alone, let you be here all by yourself?” Kars asked, his voice mocking in a way that made you just the slightest bit angry. God damn this man, he was really just going to make you say it, wasn’t he? Bastard.

“I-I… Please Kars. I need you, please. Y… You’re the one who made me like this, you have to take responsibility.” You told him, trying to make it sound reasonable, as if the two of you were actually arguing again, but this time you sounded so much more meek, your voice quiet and embarrassed. Kars just hummed, pulling his fingers out of you slowly, leaving you to whine in protest. He let his tongue lave along them before pulling you into a bruising kiss, watching as you just melted into it, wrapping your arms around the man and whimpering as you tasted your own juices on your tongue. When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, squirming and attempting to spread your legs wider. Kars relished in your submission, in the power he held over you, using your own body against you in his fight to gain your affections. And the worst part was, it worked. Really fucking well. You watched as Kars quickly disrobed, swallowing as he finally pulled himself out of his loincloth, before looking away. God, he was massive, what the fuck! You were ill prepared for that, this may be a mistake. But Kars just smirked at your staring, slotting himself in between your thighs and rubbing his cock against your slickened folds.

“Didn’t you ever learn it was rude to stare? Or is it that you’re so entranced by me that you can’t help it?” Kars asked, leaning in closer as he positioned his body to hover over yours, his mouth leaning into your neck and shoulders to nip and suck deep bruises onto them, basking in the idea of marking you for everyone to see. Of course, there aren’t many people left to see it, but the sentiment was there. You whimpered as Kars rubbed against you, teasing you as the head never actually caught at your entrance. You pursed your lips and dug your nails into Kars’ shoulders just a bit, trying to express your frustration, but the Pillarman just seemed to laugh.

“What is it, darling? If you want something, you’ll need to tell me clearly.” Kars told you. You just looked away, clearly embarrassed as you started to wriggle a bit, hoping to see if you could take what you wanted yourself.

“B-But I already said it once! Don’t make me beg you again, it’s embarrassing Kars…” You tried to play up your whole innocent act. You weren’t lying, it was extremely embarrassing, but you were certainly trying to appeal to Kars as you stared at the sheets. He just smiled, not cruelly but in a way that actually made your heart flutter in a way you wished you could suppress, leaning into your ear and cooing sweetly.

“Tell me what you want again, sweetness. I love to hear you tell me, I could listen to it over and over again. I want to make you feel good, I’ll need to know exactly what it is you need from me.” His voice was so gentle, enough to make you completely relax against the bed as you finally seemed to fully fall under whatever spell Kars seemed to have cast over you, blinking up a few times before finally responding.

“I… I want you to fuck me Kars. Please, make me yours.” You replied, a glaze coming over your eyes as Kars smiled, pulling you into a tender kiss before slowly pushing into you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, easily clawing at Kars’ back in reaction to just how massive he was. No matter how much you felt like you wanted this, poor prep was poor prep after all. But Kars moved slowly, pulling away and whispering into your ear how well you were doing, how greedily your sweet cunt was swallowing up his cock, how you were almost there, just a few more inches. When Kars’ finally bottomed out inside of you, you felt almost sickeningly full, holding onto your lover tightly and trying to take deep breaths as you adjusted to the side inside of you.

“So good for me, there we go. Such a sweet, tight thing, pulling me in. I knew you loved me the same way I loved you, you just were too stubborn to admit it…” Kars whispered into your ear as he started to pull out, before slamming back inside of you. You let out a gaspy moan, your head rolling back as Kars began a slow but brutal pace, making sure you felt the drag of his cock in every thrust. You moaned, resting your head on Kars’ shoulder before the bold idea of mouthing your own hickies onto him occurred. He growled a bit at the feeling, his pace speeding up just the slightest bit as you sucked on his skin, frustrated to see your marks disappear as quickly as you left them. You grumbled a bit, biting down a little harder and smiling as you heard Kars gasp, before leaning in and giving you a nip of his own. He was clearly amused by the whole debacle, but there was also a clear message that he intended to remain in charge here, and that anything you do should remain playful at most. But all you wanted to do was mark your lover in the same way that he had marked you, and when it seemed like that wasn’t going to work, you resigned yourself to laying your head against his shoulder, crying out your praises and pleads to the man.

“K-Kars, please, so good, more, you feel s-so good, so big, fuck, need you, please, mooooore…” You whined, on the verge of drooling onto his shoulder as the Pillarman adjusted his hips to thrust into you a bit more deeply, the head of his cock nudging up against your womb and leaving you to shudder.

“Heavens, you’re mine. All mine, I love you, mine, mine to keep and fuck and fill full of my children. Don’t you ever forget that.” He growled into your ear, clearly starting to lose some of his senses as his pace sped up, his hips slamming against yours as he grew more feral, his hands finding their way to your hips and digging his claws into them to leave pinpricks of blood to spill from your soft flesh. In return, you just cried out and wrapped your legs around Kars’ waist, trying to pull him closer as you began to near your end.

“Y-Yes, Kars, god! Feels so good, please!” You were practically mewling at this point, your voice heady and broken as Kars took what he wanted from you, and god, you couldn’t be any happier over it.

“Say it. Say that you’re mine, that you love me.” Kars’ voice was low, husky, more akin to an animal than to a human at this point, but you couldn’t help but stumble over yourself to comply, to try and please him in hopes of reaching your own peak.

“All yours, I’m yours Kars! I love you, love you so much, I’ve always loved you, god, please, I’m so close, please let me cum, I need you!” You whimpered, your declaration of love enough for Kars to wrestle your head off his shoulder so he could look you in the eye, and you vague were able to take note of the wild look he had in his own, something that should scare you but only made pleasure curl more tightly in your belly.

“Good, cum for me, cum all over my cock and milk me, make me cum inside of you, plant my child in your belly, cum for me, (Y/n)!” His voice steadily grew louder until he was practically commanding you, and your body more than happily agreed, immediately clamping down on the man as you tumbled over the edge. You cried out Kars’ name as you found yourself in bliss, whimpering as you heard Kars let out a throaty, inhuman sound before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, holding onto you as he came. You moaned, quickly finding yourself rushing to overstimulation as Kars filled you up, easily pumping you full of copious amounts of cum, to the point where your belly started to look just a tad bigger. You blushed as you felt some of his cum push past the seal of his cock, dripping onto the sheets and leaving a mess to mix with your own slick.

When Kars finally pulled out and pressed his lips against yours, you nearly collapsed into the sheets, tired and sweaty from your vigorous lovemaking. You knew that you should feel upset. Embarrassed, angry even, but all you felt was calm, serene and fulfilled as Kars laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. You didn’t fight them, only closing your eyes and laying your head against his chest.

“The poor sheets are going to stain…” You mumbled, trying to find the slightest bit of reason you could still grapple at to get out of this, to fight the now dominant side of your brain that told you that Kars loved you, he protected you, and you loved him back. Of course you did, didn’t you always?

“I’ll have someone clean them tomorrow, don’t worry. Just get some sleep, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake.” He cooed, and you just relaxed in his arms, snuggling up. The words slipped out, really, without any control over them. No one could blame you for saying them, for whispering something that only the two of you would hear.

“I love you.” And Kars just sighed, leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead as you finally began to drift off to sleep, knowing that the two of you would awake bathed in sunlight, reborn as the new rulers of this world. As the lover Kars always envisioned the two of you would be.

“I love you too, sweetling. I always have.”

#kars/reader #kars x reader #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #yandere x reader #yandere/reader #yandere fic #writing #My writing #mine #NOT SFW

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matchasprouts · 3 years

Text

The Walls - Chapter 6

[ classes started today so i really didn't expect to be able to write at all, but DAMN am i glad i got this chapter out so i can finally move on to the ship part jhwebjhhfbwehjf ]

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The banging in the walls continued, shaking the paintings and the lights above them. All of them were frantically looking around for the source, Felix especially.

And then Cole spotted the mirror.

“What the…” he muttered, moving over to it, his reflection growing larger with every step. Soon, he was right in front of it, slowly pressing his ear to the glass. “It sounds like-”

He never got to finish that sentence, the glass shattering with a massive force that sent him flying back with the shards. There was silence for a few seconds, before something happened.

A hand emerged from the hole in the wall behind the mirror, followed by another on the other side. Slowly, they helped propel someone through the hole- someone big.

All of them were frozen as the figure completely emerged from the hole, towering over them at least 6 ft and definitely buffer than any of the three of them. He had dark, curly hair that matched the black hairs on his chest and framed the porcelain mask on his, a glimpse of an equally curly beard, and barely visible green eyes.

Literally, he was huge. And Felix recognized him almost instantly.

“Brahms?” he asked tentatively, unsure if saying his name would set him off. Greta's gaze snapped to him, and so did Brahms’s, which basically confirmed it. Felix held Brahms’s stare, until Cole began to sit up.

Almost immediately, Brahms lunged at him, grabbing the man by the neck and slamming him into the ground repeatedly. Greta screamed, grabbing Brahms’s shoulders and trying to pull him off. Instinctively, Felix grabbed her arm and pulled her away, holding onto her as she tried to go back to stop Brahms.

After bashing his head a few times, Brahms started glancing around for a weapon, grabbing a shard of the doll’s head as soon as he spotted it. Before Greta or Felix could react, the shard was lodged in Cole’s neck. Unsatisfied with the fact that he was still gurgling, Brahms shoved it in even further, only letting go when he was sure Cole was dead.

Then, slowly, he turned to the other two. Greta instantly took off, grabbing Felix by the arm and pulling him with her. He couldn’t really process what she was doing, or why, instead keeping his gaze locked on Brahms until he couldn’t see them anymore.

Felix was still catching up when Greta practically threw them into one of the empty bedrooms, slamming herself against the door as she fumbled with the key. Finally she jabbed the key into the lock, managing to turn it right as Brahms started banging on the door to get in.

That seemed to snap him into reality. This was his bedroom. “The closet!” he yelled, Greta flinching at the suddenness of his voice, right before running over to the closet door. By the time he had it closed and locked, the rattling of the door had stopped.

There was quiet for a minute, before an arm came through the closet door. Greta screamed- Felix was getting sick of the sound, it hurt his ears- and grabbed the rotary phone, hitting Brahms’s hand with it to stop him from grabbing her.

“Come on!” Felix grabbed Greta by the wrist, quickly unlocking the bedroom door and kicking it open, running with her back into the room they’d just been in. “The wall!” he told her, when she gave him that panicked look of confusion.

She was smarter than he gave her credit for, almost instantly running for the hole in the wall that had been behind the now shattered mirror. Felix followed close behind, waiting for her to be up the ladder before climbing it himself. He caught a glimpse of the porcelain mask before Greta helped him up and they took off in the crawlspace.

About two seconds in, he started to hyperventilate.

Felix hated admitting it, hated admitting his greatest weakness, but he was extremely claustrophobic, and the crawlspace wasn’t helping. He vaguely wondered how someone as big as Brahms could get through it without trouble but, before he knew it, they were in a room.

Greta moved forward into the room, her curiosity winning over her fear, but Felix stood near the entrance, taking deep breaths as quietly as he could, as to not alarm her. It wasn’t long before he was looking around as well.

It only took a few seconds for something to grab his interest.

“Is that my apron?” he asked aloud, getting Greta’s attention. There, hung up on one of the walls, was his tattered old apron that he lost on his first day with the Heelshires.

It looked surprisingly well kept, even with some of the holes sewn up. He moved over to it, carefully running a hand over the clothing item. He honestly couldn’t believe that Brahms kept it this long- maybe he planned on returning it but decided against it as the years passed.

Soon his attention moved to the wall behind the apron. There were a few sketches pinned to the wall around it, all of him doing mundane things like making coffee, or watering the houseplants.

When he looked to the rest of the wall, he found very similar sketches of Greta, and a few of the two of them interacting. “Oh my god, he’s been living in here!” Greta suddenly realized, snapping her head toward Felix. “You- you were right. He’s been in the walls this whole time, watching us!”

Wow. Now someone believes him? It took the threat of death??

Right. Not the time to be petty.

“Don’t panic,” Felix told her firmly, looking around for an exit. “We need to keep moving, we don’t know where he is. Come on.”

They entered the walls again, much to Felix’s discomfort. After a little while of moving through the walls, Felix froze. He’d come across one of the holes in the walls and could see Brahms through it, ripping apart the room on the other side in probably anger.

And then he saw him.

“Run!” Felix yelled, pushing Greta slightly to get her going. Just as he moved away from the spot, an arm ripped through the wall, tearing open a Brahms sized hole.

Before they knew it, he was in the walls with them, and they were running as fast as they could through the cramped space to get away. Felix vaguely regretted being the one closest to Brahms, since the man was practically on his heels, but was mostly glad that he could, to an extent, protect Greta from him.

Soon they came across a door surrounded by pipes, with Brahms right behind them. “You go open it!” Felix told Greta, grabbing a nearby loose pipe, planning on using it as a weapon. “I’ll keep him off you, go!”

He hated breaking the rules, but he wasn’t going to let Greta die here. She didn’t deserve it.

He, however, had no one left to miss him. His death would mean nothing, and he was okay with it. “I don’t wanna hurt you Brahms,” he said as Brahms got closer, tightening his grip on the pipe.

Brahms paused for a moment, before lunging at Felix. Felix wasn’t a small man by any means, so he put up a good fight before Brahms managed to wrangle the pipe away from him. There was another moment of hesitation as Brahms looked down at Felix, who was now on the ground, the pipe raised above him. It almost seemed like he didn’t want to bring it down.

But apparently getting Greta was more important, and he brought the pipe down on Felix’s head with a heavy thunk.

He was out almost immediately.

---

Felix stirred after what felt like forever, laying on the floor next to Cole’s body. Upon realizing he was next to a corpse, he shot up immediately, ignoring the pounding in his head as he scrambled away from it.

He heard rapid footsteps after that, followed by Brahms appearing in the doorway, holding the fire stoker in his right hand. Felix instinctively moved away from him, his back hitting the wall.

Brahms tilted his head at the reaction, seeming… unfond of the look of fear in Felix’s eyes. He was used to a fire in there, not… this. He didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry,” Brahms spoke, using that childish voice that Felix hated. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But I didn’t want her to leave me… I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Ah. Implies that he’s going to kill Felix if Greta doesn’t return.

“So you’re going to kill me?” Felix immediately asked, finally making eye contact with the group’s attacker. “I’m not going down without a fight, Brahms.” Slowly, as to not worsen his headache, he stood up, ready to fight if needed.

Brahms apparently didn’t like this, taking a step back. They were quiet, just watching each other, before a familiar voice rang out from the halls.

“Brahms? I- I’ve come back for you. I promised I wouldn’t leave you,” Greta called out, bringing the man to attention instantly. He didn’t move though, clearly wondering if this was a trap. “Just- please just let him go. I won’t run again.”

That seemed to wipe away any hesitation he had, sending Felix one last glance before rushing out to meet his nanny.

Felix stood there for a long time after Brahms ran off, only moving when he heard Greta snap at him, telling him it was bedtime.

He didn’t remember hurting his leg but as he limped down the hall to the child’s bedroom, he noticed a long and deep gash in his calf. Had that happened when Brahms dragged him out of the walls? How hadn’t he noticed when he stood up? What a fucked up headache.

Soon he was leaning heavily against the bedroom’s door frame, watching Greta tuck Brahms into bed. He couldn’t believe he still wanted to ensure that the rules were followed. It was probably his abandonment issues.

“Good night, Brahms,” he heard Greta say, leaning back and away from the man. Before she could get too far, he grabbed her arm.

“Kiss…?” Oh. The desperate, quiet tone in Brahms’s voice broke Felix’s heart. He knew how important the kiss was to him. Greta glanced back at him, and he just looked away. He didn’t like feeling weak.

“No kiss tonight,” Greta told him, patting his hand cautiously. “That’s your punishment. You scared us, Brahms. That’s not okay.”

This didn’t deter him. “Kiss,” Brahms repeated, more forcefully this time. Greta sighed, finally giving in. When she leaned down, that’s when Felix saw the glint of something shiny.

He wasn’t fast enough. When Brahms moved the kiss to Greta’s lips, Felix tried to jump forward, to grab the weapon, but his injured leg toppled him over as Greta stabbed the screwdriver into Brahms’s torso.

The man cried out, swinging his arm out and sending Greta flying into the wall. When he got up and reached for her, Felix stepped in.

“Don’t!” he snapped from the floor, making both of the other people freeze. Brahms looked down at him, chest heaving and blood trickling down from where the screwdriver was still lodged in his torso. “You don’t want to hurt her… you went through all this trouble…”

He was right, and he knew that Brahms knew it. Unfortunately, this was the exact distraction that Greta needed.

With a yell, she lunged forward and drove the screwdriver in even deeper. Brahms let out another pained cry, this one worse than the first. He fell to the ground near Felix, who immediately started pulling himself over to him.

Greta tried to pick Felix up, to bring him with her, but he yanked himself out of her grasp. “Get out!” he yelled at her through gritted teeth, glaring at the former nanny. She seemed surprised, but figured Brahms would die soon enough and left it alone. She took off without a second thought.

Felix pulled himself over to Brahms, pulling himself into a sitting position and leaning back against the bed. He quickly ripped off one of his sleeves, getting it ready to hold against the wound before swiftly pulling out the screwdriver and covering the wound with the sleeve.

He wasn’t going to let Brahms die. He may not have ever known the real him until today, but this was his friend, the only one he had. There was no way in hell he was going to let him go.

No fucking way.

#story tag: the walls #s/i: felix shaw #brahms heelshire #self ship fic #self shipping #romantic: 🎭👁#self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #chapter 6

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forevercloudnine · 4 years

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batman forever riddlebat ship meme

(This one was inevitable. God, do I love this movie. @heroes-etc gave me questions from this ship meme.)

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

The obvious answer here is Edward because he is... clearly and pathologically insecure in his identity and requiring outside approval. You could argue he gets over this once he adopts his flamboyant supervillain identity, but as soon as he steps out of it to be Edward Nygma again he’s as self-conscious as ever. On some level his Bruce cosplay at the Nygmatech party is probably supposed to be a dig at his former idol, but it’s pretty transparent that he’s paranoid about not measuring up, especially once Bruce actually walks in.

As for what makes him feel better, two obvious high points of his self-esteem right off the bat (lol) are when Bruce is giving him positive attention in his intro scene, and directly afterwards when he’s murdering his boss for ragging on him.

Of course, neither external validation or murder is, like, a permanent solution to insecurity. Obviously. If they ever got together Bruce would probably make him go to therapy, which would be incredibly hypocritical because, as Dr. Meridian points out in this movie, that’s not exactly something Bruce is doing. Although in Bruce’s defense, if you count the novelizations as canon for this continuity, the psychiatrist Alfred hired for him as a child basically wrote him off as a lost cause that was going to inevitably self-destruct at some point in adulthood. So I can see why he’d think therapy isn’t for him.

"Young Bruce may seem quite the stalwart, but there’s still a child beneath that veneer of calm acceptance [...] The day will come when that veneer crumbles, and the boy reacts to the memory of his ordeal. Such matters may be postponed, but not indefinitely. And the longer this one is delayed, the greater the damage will be to his psyche.”

“Still,” Alfred pressed. “How do you think this will all come out? Off the record, if you prefer.”

Another pause. “I am not terribly optimistic,” the stout man admitted. “But I assure you, I will do my best.”

Alternatively, Bruce just lets Edward borrow his clothes and calls it a day. It’s less time consuming than therapy and both the movie and novelization demonstrate how into that Edward is.

He was murmuring to himself, “We’ll probably be dining at Wayne Manor together.” He envisioned Bruce sitting across from him, and began to launch into a narrative [...] “Yes. Yes. A Party in my honor? I should have rented a tuxedo. What?” he couldn’t believe it, “One of yours, Bruce?” He gave it a moment’s thought and then shrugged. “Why not? We are the same size.”

3. Who is the most romantic?

Uh, not Bruce! Batman Forever is the most thoughtfully romantic he gets in the entire series, and even here his only two dates ideas are “whatever Gotham social event my secretary tells me I need a date for” and “coming on to my date in my alternate identity to see if she loves me enough not to cheat on me with Batman.” Also, he vacillates between staunchly refusing to do any flirting at all and dishing out the least romantic pick-up lines possible.

You say “bad writing,” I say “totally in character for a hot rich guy who knows that this is as hard as he has to try to get into someone’s pants.” Bruce might love his partner with the intensity of a thousand dying suns, but he’s still sending Alfred to buy all their Valentine’s Day presents. His idea of a romantic evening for two is finally trusting someone enough to tell them his secret identity. If he’s done that already, or they already figured it out, then his playbook is over. That’s clearly the only romantic fantasy he’s ever allowed himself.

(I was going to say he does this once every movie, but he actually never does this in Batman & Robin specifically because he doesn’t actually care about Julie Madison. She proposes to him and he gets her name wrong while shooting her down. Add that to the “Bruce Wayne isn’t romantic” box.)

The ridiculous amount of magazine cut-outs populating Edward’s apartment indicates that he probably has a very vibrant and extensive set of fantasies involving Bruce, which is hinted at a couple times in the novelization.

Edward would certainly know him when he saw him. He’d spent enough time anticipating the moment, after all [...] Finally he was going to be meeting Bruce Wayne face-to-face, and he had every moment of the encounter scripted [...] He’d rehearsed it to perfection in his mind for weeks upon months.

In the grand scheme of things... in the fabulous, sweeping, intertwining destinies of Bruce Wayne and Edward Nygma, such a slip would not even rate a footnote.

He becomes suddenly and painfully aware that if Bruce Wayne walked away without Edward Nygma by his side, then that would be it. It would be finished. All these weeks, months... indeed, a lifetime of planning... and it was crumbling under him just like that.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean his fantasies are all romantic in the traditional sense of the word. This is a man who was charmed by Harvey holding a charity circus hostage with some kind of graffitied missile warhead. Tonally, there’s not even that much of a difference between his crush collages and his riddle death threats.

What’s weirder, using a magazine cutout of someone you hate to make a pop-up card of their face, or using a magazine cutout of someone you love to replace the anatomically correct heart in the cardiovascular system diagram you keep in your apartment/arcade/makeshift laboratory? Probably the former, since it was made with the express purpose of Bruce actually seeing it. Although presumably Edward was planning on taking Bruce to his apartment at some point? And in the novelization, he actually drags Bruce into his cubicle to look at his Wayne Shrine.

He grabbed Bruce’s arms and shouted “No, don’t leave me! I need you!” [...] Bruce was thunderstruck as he was pulled partway into Edward’s office... and then he caught sight of the shrine.

Edwards’s head bobbed eagerly. Now, finally, Bruce would understand the depth of Nygma’s devotion to his idol. He would see how important he was to Nygma.

Notably, the only thing that upsets Bruce about the fact that one of his employees has a serial killer wall dedicated to him at their work station (@heroes-etc: realistically.... IS this the first time this has happened? i doubt it.) is the fact that the shrine includes a picture of him taken directly after his parents’ death, which is obviously a huge trigger for Bruce’s PTSD.

Wayne’s gaze zeroed in on the picture of himself as a young man.

The eyes of Wayne the elder locked with Wayne the younger, and when he slowly turned his scrutiny back to Edward Nygma, Edward could feel the temperature in the cubicle drop to subzero.

Later, once Bruce isn’t being actively reminded of the most traumatizing day of his life, he reflects that he could probably relate to Edward’s specific brand of crazy, and hopes that it’s not too late to try again (it is).

He paused momentarily at Edward Nygma’s cubicle, thinking about the intensity he’d seen in the man’s eyes the other day. Nygma’s ideas might have been a bit odd, but that sort of passion—if properly channeled—could accomplish miracles. That was something Bruce Wayne certainly knew better than anyone else. Perhaps after this fiasco was the time to take Nygma aside under less-pressured circumstances. Start again...

With any other character, I would call bull on their being this unphased by someone being obsessed enough with them to build a stalker shrine, but, like. It’s Batman. He probably has a stalker shrine to Michelle Pfeiffer Catwoman in his cave somewhere. When they start dating, Edward mails the weirdest magazine cutout valentines to his office on the regular, and every time Bruce has to assure his staff that it’s not a ransom letter and it’s just “his boyfriend being romantic.”

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

I mean, by most people’s standards, any one of the things that Edward does in front of Bruce could easily be the most embarrassing thing to happen to them in their lifetime. But for the most part, Edward seems blissfully free of that kind of self-consciousness. He accidentally introduces himself to Bruce as “[extended moaning sound] Bruce Wayne” and shakes it off without even registering his mistake. Even when he feels like Bruce has rejected him and his project, his emotional state is more shocked, saddened, and angry than it is ashamed. He does apologize to Bruce, during the scene where they first meet, for holding on to his hand too long during their handshake. And by “handshake” I mean that Bruce extends his hand to be shaken, and Edward just grabs on and holds it without any motion whatsoever for the entire first half of their conversation. Which might be the only time he ever apologizes in the entire movie. So I’ll say that was his moment of embarrassment.

Bruce only really embarrasses himself in front of Alfred, but Edward does manage to trick Bruce into getting scanned by his mind reading device at the Nygmatech party. Being tricked in general would be pretty awkward for Bruce, since this movie goes out of its way to show the audience how SMART and CLEVER and KNOWLEDGEABLE ABOUT BRAINWAVES Bruce is at every opportunity. But being tricked into getting your mind read is about a million times more embarrassing than just running into a wall like some kind of Looney Tune. Obviously having access to Bruce’s mind allows Edward to figure out that his former boss/current obsessee is Batman, but also it’s just got to be super weird in there. Bruce is a bizarre man.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Whether he’s idolizing Bruce or plotting his destruction, Edward is still seeing the subject of his lifelong obsession as a larger than life exaggeration of the real man. Some of that pedestal would probably survive into the beginning of a romantic relationship, but by the time they got serious Edward would have had to recognize that Bruce has both positive and negative traits. He would also have had to grapple with the fact that the man he once assumed would make everything in his life better is a lot of work to be around, especially in this movie’s continuity where the trauma of his family’s death and his guilt over allowing enemies like Joker to die are genuinely affecting Bruce’s day-to-day functionality.

(A lot of things, Chase.)

Edward’s introduction scene demonstrates that he doesn’t see Bruce as having these kinds of problems. His Escapism Wish Fulfillment Device TM is clearly a very personal project for him, since he, you know. Is kind of already living in a Bruce-centric fantasy world.

When he’s pitching it to Bruce, however, he states that he doesn’t think someone like Bruce would ever need to escape reality (which could just be ingratiating flattery, but he barely seems aware of what he’s saying at the time because he’s too busy staring with his mouth open at Bruce putting on glasses).

(Side note: an interjection from @heroes-etc

Anyway, moving on.)

Obviously we know he’s wrong, since Bruce escapes his reality every night by dressing up like a bat and scaring people. Normally that’s just subtext (or me being cynical and creating subtext), but Batman Forever introduced a hot psychiatrist who is constantly poking at Batman for being a power fantasy created by a traumatized mind to cope with intense feelings of helplessness in childhood.

The novelization makes it clear that it’s not the illusion of perfection that Edward is attracted to, however. The picture of Bruce in Crime Alley is what kickstarts Edward’s obsession, not because Bruce seemed flawless but because he seemed to be going through similar pain as Edward (whatever Edward’s pain even IS in this continuity). So I think recognizing Bruce’s issues would be less of a dealbreaker and more of a point of connection, were they to get serious.

He saw, there in Bruce Wayne’s face, an intensity that mirrored his own. An anger, a frustration at the hand that fate had dealt him. There were no tears on Bruce’s face. Instead there was a smoldering intelligence that Edward intuitively sensed was on par with his own.

There was something in Bruce’s eyes, something in that gaze. There was Bruce, in a moment of raw emotion, his parents just having been cruelly taken from him. And there was no self-pity. Just cold, hard anger.

[...] Ed still had the newspaper with him when he was walking home from school. Not that he needed it to read; the contents were safely locked away in his skull, thanks to his photographic memory. But he wanted to clip out the articles and pictures about Bruce Wayne. He found the young man fascinating, as if he had discovered a soulmate of sorts.

For Bruce, on the other hand, getting serious presumably just means attempting to include Edward more and more in the found family he builds in the latter half of the 90’s Batman movies. Alfred approving a love interest is not quite as tantamount in this continuity as it is sometimes (Micheal Gough Alfred is pretty laid back), but Bruce is still spending all of his non-Batman, non-socialite time with his butler. So if Edward wants to hang out with Bruce, he has to either get on Alfred’s good side or prepare for a lot of “romantic quality time” where his boyfriend’s dad is glaring at him from the background.

Dick is less important to get on the good side of, since he and Bruce argue all the time in these movies (apparently one of the proposed scripts for Batman & Robin was Bruce kicking Dick out of the house and making him go to college, where Dick would cope with his dad-related anger by bullying his psychology professor Dr. Crane into becoming a supervillain. I personally feel like I deserved to see that Scarecrow origin). So if Dick doesn’t like Bruce’s new boyfriend, it’s just one more thing for them to be catty to each other about.

Alfred’s niece Barbara Wilson on the other hand (who is adorable as a fusion of Barbara Gordon and Julia Pennyworth, do not @ me) would be absolutely vital for Edward to win over, because her opinion could easily either make or break his standing with her uncle. Also Bruce decided to adopt her within five minutes of meeting her, so he’s obviously fond.

19. Where do they go on their first date?

Edward’s fantasy sequence in the novelization makes it obvious enough that he would really, really like to have dinner at Wayne Manor. Hanging out at someone’s house isn’t really a traditional first date, especially if one of you is a billionaire who could have taken you literally anywhere, but clearly none of that matters to Bruce, because that’s exactly the first date he invites Vicki Vale on in Batman (1989).

It’s pretty painfully awkward (“You want to know the truth? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before”) until Bruce gives up on the formality and takes her down to eat the rest of their courses with Alfred in the kitchen.

I feel like his first date with Edward could probably go the same way, with a few major differences. One, Edward would have been super enthused about eating in the fancy dining hall, and Bruce would have only suggested finishing their meal in the kitchen because Edward clearly wanted to see As Much Of The Manor As Possible. Two, when Alfred offers to stop embarrassing Bruce and leave them alone for the end of their date, Edward would have insisted he stay and break out the baby albums. You cannot convince me that Alfred is not a scrapbooker. Actually, does what Edward’s doing count as scrapbooking? Maybe they could compare notes.

#riddlebat #batman forever #edward nygma #riddler #bruce wayne #batman #ship meme #i do not actually recommend reading the novelization because it did chase so dirty i still seethe about it sometimes #but it did make edward pretty fucking gay #now the batman & robin novelization i recommend wholeheartedly #because for some reason bruce has a huge crush on mr. freeze #like literally bruce stalked him for a while in his 20's #and his internal narration is constantly monologueing about how handsome victor is #truly george clooney batman is canon gay

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

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Tumblr was being a Big Bitch and reset my scrolling about 4 times before I could get to the end of your blog. You’re incredibly talented and dedicated to write so much, it’s inspiring! Thank you for being you, I hope you’re safe during these trying times!

I swear that with each new ‘update’ Tumblr breaks a little more. It is one of the charms of the site, right? Watching you blast through the blog was amazing. Thank you for all the notification pings :) Hope you’re safe and able to relax during these wild times! <3

The first winter Jaskier had at Kaaer Morhen was miserable. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration but it was most definitely not one that he enjoyed. Except for the mind (and back) blowing sex that made up a large part of winter because there was not much else to do. Throughout the season, the witchers trained, hunted and bickered. Gwent was played with increasingly twisted rules and Jaskier couldn’t keep up. He had come to the conclusion that the witchers were bored, cooped up in a crumbling old keep for months on end. There was only so much relaxing and downtime they could take before they were raring to go again. So when the invitation for a second winter at Kaer Morhen was offered to Jaskier, he began plotting.

Witcher enrichment activities were difficult to come by, no market stall really catered to such a niche area. So Jaskier was going to have to get creative. Over the course of the year, he stocked up on things which might be useful: small gadgets, a cryptex or two, some miniature throwing knives and a whole host of other knickknacks which seemed like a great idea at the time. It seemed less great when he had to lug it all up to the keep where the witchers were already gathered.

They had about a week of peace before the first wrestling match broke out between Eskel and Geralt. It was over the question of who should to the dishes and who should dry them. Only Vesemir fisting the back of Lambert’s shirt stopped him from bundling in. It was time for Jaskier to start his new programme.

The following morning, Jaskier had gone out and hidden a dozen red pebbles around the keep and the surrounding area. He walked all over the place to hide his scent and when the witchers finished their morning training, Jaskier was ready.

“You have a task,” he announced, holding a red pebble aloft. “There are twelve such pebbles hidden around Kaer Morhen’s grounds. The one who brings me most of them will get a prize.” Here, he pulled out a lavender infused cuddly rabbit. At first, nobody moved, none of the witchers wanted to look like they were keen to compete for such a ridiculous prize. However, after a few sly looks, they all seemed to slink off, even Vesemir looked shifty. He claimed he was only checking the keep was in order but Jaskier spotted him slip a red pebble into his pocket in the library.

By late afternoon, Lambert appeared, looking quite proud as he presented Jaskier with five red pebbles. Vesemir had three while Eskel and Lambert had two each. Nobody saw the rabbit but the other witchers could all smell hints of lavender on Lambert each morning, suspiciously like he had been cuddling the toys throughout the night.

Sometimes, the witchers’ restlessness was less pronounced. More than once Jaskier had caught Eskel prowling the ramparts, guarding and defensive without any threat to take his frustrations out on. The cryptex had been for him mostly and when Jaskier spotted that he was stalking around the keep again, he brought a cryptex to him.

“I couldn’t crack it, help?” Not even waiting for an answer, Jaskier pressed it into Eskel’s hand and wandered off. He was pleased to see Eskel settled into an armchair by the fire for the next two days, delicately trying to open up the cryptex without breaking the glass. When he finally got it open, a small vial of scented oils rolled out into Eskel’s palm. It would help him relax in the bath for a while.

When Vesemir started snapping at his pups, Jaskier had just the thing for him. He’d spent a good chunk of the year learning a book by heart, one that was filled with riddles.

“I am all around you until you call my name at which point I’m gone. What am I?” he asked Vesemir.

There was a special kind of delight in watching the old wolf mull over the riddle, trying to figure it out. And when he got one right, Jaskier was immediately giving him another one.

Meanwhile, Lambert was getting antsy again. So Jaskier set up a larger hunt just for him. It all started off with a puzzle box. One that didn’t have any glass in it so if Lambert got frustrated and broke it, it wouldn’t ruin his fun. The puzzle box opened up to give him a clue of where to find the next clue. Some of them were more puzzle boxes or a cryptex (with a warning to be careful attached) while others were riddles and codes for him to decipher. In the end, it took Lambert four days of solid work to finally get his prize: a hug from Jaskier.

Of course, while it was fun to do individual challenges for the witchers, they still enjoyed competing against each other. One breakfast, their plates were empty save for a large puzzle box each. They were all identical and the smell of dried fruits emanated from them. It was a race not just to get to their food but also bragging rights of being the fastest to open the toy.

In a way, Geralt was the most difficult to keep entertained because he had seen some of the toys Jaskier had acquired. Though he was still stunned by a couple of the Gwent cards Jaskier had managed to smuggle home without him knowing. They made for some great treats to find hidden in crevices randomly throughout the keep. Plus Jaskier did have the benefit of being able to push him up against the nearest surface and blowing him if nobody else was around. So even if Geralt didn’t seem to get as much attention as the others, it was safe to say Jaskier took good care of him too.

With all the witchers taken care of and kept busy, Jaskier was content and happy too. He loved watching them pout and frown over a more difficult toys Jaskier put in front of them, only to smile widely when they solved it. As predicted, the miniature throwing knives were a big hit, Eskel hoarded them with a fierce protectiveness while the others tried to steal them. It was just as well that there were four in the set so each witcher could end up with one - almost like Jaskier had planned it like that.

By the end of winter, everyone seemed happy. Keen to get back on the path but not half out of their mind with the need to go. Vesemir clapped Jaskier on the shoulder.

“Thank you.”

It had Jaskier smiling, proud but also not wanting to rub it in Vesemir’s face. “It’s my pleasure.”

“Yeah, well, we weren’t sure you’d realise.” Maybe they weren’t talking about the same thing. “I mean, we love having you here and knowing that you love Geralt. But last year was a bit much.”

“Oh?” Jaskier’s voice was strangled as he tried to figure out just what was going on.

“You know, all the noise and the smell. We’re happy for you and Geralt but even we have our limits. So thank you for bringing all these games with you this year. Our ears and noses truly appreciated it.”

Face falling Jaskier stared past Vesemir’s head and at the wall. All winter he thought he had been keeping the wolves occupied. In turn, they thought they were keeping him busy and away from sex. Next year Jaskier was dragging Geralt to Oxenfurt.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #vesemir #witcher wolf pack #tldr: jaskier runs a witcher enrichment programme over winter

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acid-hydrangea · 3 years

Text

Three Years in Heaven

A few small glimpses at the winding, unending days of a certain boy.

(Includes post-story spoilers for both TWEWY games in their entireties, as this takes place between both periods.)

(AO3 Crosspost)

Night 1

It's dark.

So dark, he can hardly see his own hand in front of him.

He feels something.

Not by touch, no.

Someone silent

Yet that presence, their aura

It's so familiar,

It speaks one thousand words,

Nondescript, vague and cluttered,

Looping, repeating, silently, yet loudly,

Except for a few that ring out,

"How was your first Day back in the Underground, Neku?"

"... Josh?!"

Neku’s first cry, it's full of relief, shock, words caught in his throat finally let out of the cage in his throat,

"Josh... You..."

His voice rises, he clenches his fist, he's finally back on his two feet,

"Where the hell am I?! Why am I back in the UG again?! Did you..."

Neku crumbles, just a bit, hand over his chest, where his non-beating heart is,

"For the third time..."

"Did I kill you? Well, isn't that the question of the decade."

Neku yells once more, wishing for nothing more than to be heard, and for once, to have his questions answered,

"Don't fucking screw with me! Just give me an answer...!"

He seriously feels like he's at his last straw. Joshua's unconcerned nonchalance was going to be the death of him.

"... What a way to thank your savior." Joshua pouts. "That twisted Reaper had excruciating plans for you, you know."

"... Huh? That Reaper... Coco? What about her?"

"She killed you, sought to drag you to the Underground once more, to..."

Joshua held his arms out, gesturing to the absolute nothingness that surrounded them,

"Save the lost city of Shinjuku."

Neku doesn't even have time to process the fact that Coco killed him. It's not information he wanted to digest, right now.

"This is... Shinjuku? What the hell happened??"

"An Inversion." Joshua states, rather matter-of-factly.

Neku stutters, thoroughly confused. "A what, now...?"

"It's when the RG and UG collapse into each other, and cease to function entirely." Joshua sighs, twirling his hair curl between his fingers. "Much like if you were being choked. Your throat closes up, and you'd stop breathing. If prolonged, you could pass out, or die. It's like that, Neku."

Neku instinctively backed away, holding his hands over his neck, as if fearing Joshua would try to demonstrate.

It didn't help that Joshua was wearing the smallest of twisted smirks during the latter half of his explanation.

Perhaps Joshua just enjoys morbid discussions. That's none of Neku's business.

Joshua rolls his eyes, as if put off by how scared Neku is.

"... You should feel grateful I saved you, for the record. The job I have in store for you is a lot less painful."

Neku was still on the defensive. "...Oh, yeah? And what would that be?"

"To discover the very reason why an Inversion took place here."

"...You wanna tell me more, Private Dick Extraordinaire?"

"If I had more to say, I would have told you."

"I don't buy it."

"Well, isn't that a shame... Because you can't leave until you've figured it out."

If Neku addresses that, he knows he won't get meaningful answers. He doesn't even know if Joshua will stick around for long. He chooses his words carefully...

"I've seen what's left of Shinjuku. There's nothing here. How do you expect me to find any--"

"Make it work, Neku. We haven't got all day. How about you try to listen more closely?"

And just like that, the second Day begins.

Neku decides it's another day of endless wandering, once more, trying to listen to the absolute silence that he now knows is Shinjuku, Post-Inversion.

Night 7

It's been a whole week. 7 Days.

Joshua has yet to make another appearance, ever since that first Night.

Very little has changed, but Neku's grown a bit smarter. Learned a little more. Opening his mind to Shinjuku, bit by bit.

As his eyes close and the current Day ends, he has a familiar feeling he knows who to expect.

Joshua slowly claps, "I must say, you've really outdone yourself, Neku."

"Put a sock in it..." Neku crosses his arms. "I've barely picked up on anything."

"Care to share your discoveries with your beloved Partner?"

"What, you can't look around yourself?"

"I cannot so freely come and go from Shibuya like you, Neku." The look in Joshua's eyes turns a bit serious. "Even I have my harrowing responsibilities."

"... Is something happening in Shibuya?"

"Nothing for you to worry yourself over."

"Is something happening in Shibuya, or not?!" Neku steps towards him, three seconds away from grabbing the collar of his shirt, "Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I can't worry." There's a mix of anger and concern in Neku's tired eyes.

"How about an exchange of information, then?" Joshua twirls his pointed finger at Neku, pushing him out of his personal bubble. "Starting with that briefing you keep putting off."

"... Fine." Neku rubs the back of his head. "Like I said, it's barely anything... But I don't think the people of Shinjuku knew it was coming. It was like it surprised them all at once."

Joshua tilts his head. "... And?"

"That's it. I told you it wasn't much..." Neku reiterates, sincerely hoping Joshua doesn’t ask him for something he doesn’t have.

"No, I think..." Joshua rubs his chin, pondering. "That's enough, for now."

"Tell me about Shibuya, then. What's happening?"

"A handful of Shinjuku Reapers are taking refuge there. Our current Game Master has decided to allow them that mercy."

"... You seem bothered by the fact."

"My, my, you're getting much better at reading people, too." Joshua shoots him his trademark grin. "I have my suspicions that they partook in enacting their own city's downfall."

"Huh...?" Neku's bewilderment was apparent on his face. "Why would they want to tear down their own city?"

"Like I said, it's just a thought. How could it be that they are the only survivors, after all?"

Neku, too, began pondering this... Not that he really knew, though. This is Joshua he's talking to. Those Shinjuku Reapers could be totally innocent, and Neku wouldn't know,

“You’re the Composer, aren’t you? Why not kick them out if they pose a threat?” Despite his own thoughts, Neku figured Joshua would’ve taken more precaution--

“It’d be dangerous to let them out of my sight if they are responsible.”

Frankly, Neku had no argument against that. Joshua was right. Even so...

Neku's voice goes a bit quiet. "... Maybe something else caused the Inversion, though..."

"Hm, you think so?" Joshua snaps his fingers. "Go on, uncover more proof to back that theory up, then."

Neku's eyes shot open to the same, dreary sights as always.

It's sudden, but the eighth Day has begun.

Night 8

Neku had a very rare, very special, very horrific encounter against Noise.

He wasn't exactly prepared for a fight, but...

He had a few Pins on hand, luckily, it was enough to take it out.

He was surprised his psyches work as well as they do, given he's on his own. That's the least of his concerns right now, though.

Larger than most, it took all the longer to take down. Its attacks were also far more brutal, leaving every cut burning. After the Noise was felled, Neku felt revitalized,

but no, none of those were the concerning parts to be dealt with.

It almost felt like it was an amalgamation of human Soul and Noise matter that he was fighting.

Their thoughts were loud, so, so loud, forming words, sentences, phrases.

The cries, shouts, and whimpers it exuded all sounded incredibly human.

"No, don't hurt me! I mean no harm!"

"Go away! Get away from me!"

"What did I ever do to you...?"

"What... Where am I... What's happening?!"

"It hurts, it hurts!! Mama!!!"

"What are you doing to him?!"

Yet, they wouldn't stop.

They kept trying to hurt him.

Neku wasn't about to lay his life down, but...

He felt damn close to it.

The revitalizing energy that enveloped him after their defeat, it felt bittersweet.

He falls to his knees, collapsed, exhausted.

There are thoughts lingering, from all that it used to be. They sit there, as if waiting,

But Neku can't muster the will to do anything, right now.

His eyes shut on their own, refusing to perceive himself, or anything around him.

Neku wanted nothing more than to disappear, just like them.

The eighth Day is over.

Joshua looks forward, at the wisps of what once was a catastrophic bundle of Noise,

"Quite the curious entity that was, mm?"

Neku has no words. Nothing to say, to think, to... be.

The vacant, scared expression on his face... Joshua found it interesting, to say the least.

"...You okay, Neku?" Joshua tilts his head, as a few sparks of concern come through his usually sardonic demeanor.

Neku can barely get the words out, but he tries, "No... I'm not, actually." He's on the cusp of tears.

His voice could barely be heard by normal ears, but it's fine, because Joshua can hear him.

He always can.

"... Those thoughts aren't going anywhere," Joshua's tone has turned considerably sympathetic, far more gentle, possibly even genuine, "Let's just wait for a bit."

Joshua sits beside him, now.

Gently placing his hand on Neku's, he can feel it shaking, as it's clenched tight.

Neku feels the strange silence is comforting, simply because Joshua is here.

Neku, deep down, wanted nothing more than the company of someone else.

Especially right now.

Even if it was Joshua’s...

No, not ‘even’... He found comfort in Joshua’s knowing tone, and even in his kind gestures...

No matter how foreign it all was to Neku.

He didn’t feel like questioning it, right now. Joshua was the only other person here, the only one he could talk to.

Neku doesn’t want to take that for granted.

Neku tries to speak, once more, as tears blur his eyes, which he dared to open once more, too weak to look ahead, he stares at the ground below him,

at Joshua's hand, still tenderly holding his own.

"...Josh... Did I...", Neku gulps, trying to release the words tangled in his throat, "Kill those people...?"

"No, you didn't. They were already gone. You gave them mercy, if anything," Joshua brushes his thumb over Neku's hand, speaking calmly. "They can pass on peacefully, now."

"... You mean it...?"

"I do. They even left us their thoughts, it's something that can help us."

"... It can help us...?"

"Of course, Neku," Joshua gently brushes his shoulder against his, "Try to look forward, try to look at them."

As hesitant as he is, he trusts Joshua.

Joshua would take a chance like this to screw with him,

but he figured Joshua still has things for him to do.

And Neku knows he himself can't leave until he's done what he has to.

Whatever ulterior purpose Joshua has, refusing to listen to him would make things drag on.

He wasn't in the mood to deal with Joshua's ire.

... And who knows? Maybe Joshua actually was concerned.

Only if because Joshua wasn't his assailant, this time.

Neku looks forward.

There's naught but glowing wisps, a condensation of people's thoughts lingering in the air.

It almost seemed as though they were waiting.

"Try to read them, Neku." Joshua prompts him. "Read their thoughts, just like you've done before."

Joshua gently lifts his hand from Neku's, from which Neku tries to muster the energy to lift his arm... To try to understand the words waiting for him.

Neku feels weak, he hisses silently from a cut on his arm. It wasn't only because of the battle, no, but he hadn't noticed how tired he'd grown over the past week.

It's not like he was loitering around. He was trying his damndest to figure more information out, and find a way out of Shinjuku.

That last battle really cemented his exhaustion in--

Taking notice, Joshua helps, gently lifting Neku's arm up properly. He takes care to not worsen his injuries,

"There, just like that. Go on, Neku."

And so, Neku does.

Realigning himself with the thoughts before him...

He focuses...

He hears them.

"The pain, it's... Gone..."

"... It's okay now, right?"

"What was I doing before this...? Hmm..."

"That man, wearing a butterfly..."

"He looked vengeful, didn't he?"

"Mama, was there something wrong with him?"

Some of them pay Neku no head, some soon extend a silent thanks his way.

They don't speak to him, but he feels it, just before they all fade away.

A vague sense of gratitude.

Joshua lets go of Neku's arm, and Neku stands back on his own two feet, as does Joshua.

"I'd say that was worth it, no?" Joshua's snide tone returns.

Neku kicks at the ground, "... That battle sucked ass."

"You won though, didn't you?" Joshua winks.

Neku crosses his arms, "So what if I did..." Suddenly, Neku wonders, and his wounded arm falls to his side, being clutched by the other.

That battle... Still did a number on him, physically. It was difficult on all ends.

A concerned expression forms on Neku's face, "...Hey, I won't have to do that again, will I?"

"I can't say. You should prepare yourself for the worst, anyways." There's something different about the way he says that, Neku can't recognize Joshua's tone, but he rolls with it.

Neku is silent, his eyes pointed in Joshua's direction. He has better questions to ask.

"... Why are you here, anyways?"

"Why? Because I'm your Partner, Neku."

"Not what I meant. You're Shibuya's Composer. I didn't think you could do anything outside those boundaries."

Joshua chuckles, hand to hip, "You clearly underestimate my capabilities."

Neku rolls his eyes, "You were the one who said you can't come here yourself. Did you find some loophole?"

Joshua continues, this rare generous mood of his leading him to continue entertaining Neku with answers. "Oh, Neku... Neku, Neku, Neku... You are my loophole."

Neku realizes just how messed up his role as a messenger has become. He tried not to think about it before, because what could he do about it? Regardless, it still bothers him.

Neku sighs, "... You don't plan on letting me take a break, do you?"

Then, Joshua says something, that frankly, Neku didn't expect at all,

"Not my jurisdiction, that's all on you, Neku."

Neku's head is now fully turned towards Joshua, only to be met with his eyes staring back at him.

Neku tilts his head, curious, yet suspicious, "Is it, now?"

Joshua states, rather matter of factly, "You have a lot to learn before you can further deepen your understanding of what happened here."

Joshua grins with his eyes, yet his mischievous demeanor returns.

"By all means, take your time, Partner."

Neku opens his eyes.

It is now Day 9.

He's decided his fate is indeed in his own hands, and no one else's.

Neku spends the day trying to find peace of mind.

Night 21

“You don’t look too hot, Partner. Miss me that much?” Joshua asks.

Neku is silent, a strained expression on his face, eyes shut tight. Unresponsive.

It was like Neku barely heard him.

Joshua groans, wanting some kind of response from Neku. "If I didn't know better, I'd have assumed you went back on all of your changes, as a person. Are you back to hating everyone, Neku?"

Neither Neku nor Joshua look very well for wear, it’s been about two weeks since they last met. They've both been busy.

Neku’s sitting, hands pressed hard to his headphones, as if trying to listen to them like they’re broken conch shells.

Joshua sighs. “... Did you even realize the Day’s ended, Neku?”

Neku opens one eye, sulks, “I’m... Trying to find something...”, before shutting it, again.

Joshua tilts his head, “Would you mind enlightening me on what that is?”

Neku’s voice is quieter than usual, “... Their thoughts became muffled.” as if not wanting to speak over the City’s whispers.

“Hm... Isn’t that quite the predicament.”

Joshua sits in front of Neku, studying his face.

Looking from multiple angles, he notices Neku’s eyebags, seeing that sleep deprivation has set in, despite the mandated time that Days are supposed to end.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Neku seemed a bit thinner, too. His arms, legs...

He’s definitely run into more Noise battles in the past two weeks, as well. Likely caught off guard for a good handful of them.

Wounds Neku poorly tried to hide and mend were incredibly obvious. A single healing Pin that needs time to reboot can only do so much.

Joshua has a lot on his mind, right now. A lot of priorities.

The Neku before him reminded him strongly of that.

“Maybe I can help. Take your hands off of those precious headphones of yours, Neku.”

Hesitant, yet stuck with no other answers, Neku complies.

“Guess it’s worth a shot, whatever you... Hey, wait--!”

Joshua swiftly robs Neku of his Headphones.

“There. Try it, now.” Joshua grins slightly, patting Neku’s headphones, as if reassuring him of their safety in his hands.

Grumbling, Neku thinks, ‘There’s no way it’s that easy...’

He tries to focus his mind once more, hands hovering over his ears, where his headphones used to be.

... He begins to hear things he once couldn’t.

His strained expression ebbs away slowly.

Joshua looks on, a silent giggle passes his lips.

Watching Neku’s expression relax, as he listens clearly to new thoughts floating in the air...

It made Joshua feel a fleeting sense of happiness, as he too felt rather worn-out.

Lowering his hands, opening his eyes, the exhaustion in his eyes faded out, even if just a little.

Neku whispers, quietly, “... Thanks, Josh.”

“Really, you were helpless without me, Neku...” Joshua jests, yet there's a hint of melancholy to his words, “You’re welcome, though.”

Joshua gives Neku his headphones back, placing them around his neck, then helps him back up on his feet.

“Try using that sixth sense of yours more, Neku.” Joshua's eyes fall to the side, “‘I’ve been quite busy lately.”

“Right... How’s Shibuya been?”, Neku asks... A slew of concerns rise up on his mind’s list of priorities.

Joshua crosses his arms, “Depends. Do you have anything new to report?”

Neku tries to think carefully about how to say this... He sighs, and decides to just be honest.

'... No. Not yet...”

Directing his eyes back to Neku, Joshua gives him a hard stare, for a few moments...

Joshua decides he’s had enough, for now, “... Since you seem to be having a hard time, I’ll forgive you this time, Partner.”

Neku releases a breath he held in anticipation, “Oh, cry me a river, why don’t you...”, He figured Joshua would stop being cooperative eventually, he’s just surprised it hasn’t happened yet.

Twirling his hair curl around his finger, Joshua continues, “In any case, the Shinjuku Reapers have basically taken over Shibuya’s Reaper Games,"Joshua tuts, rubbing the hair between his fingers casually, "The previous Game Master was unable to stop them.”

... Neku tries to not think about how that probably wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t off the previous Conductor.

Well, the Shibuya he knows and so dearly loves would be no more, but still... Part of his mind thinks, ‘at least there would have been one’...

Judging by Joshua mentioning only the Game Master... Did he even hire another Conductor, yet...?

... Neku didn’t feel like risking getting on Joshua’s bad side. Not to the extent that asking would bring about, anyways.

After a long pause, Neku replies. “... You say that like it’s not a huge deal.”

He knows better than to worry himself sick over things he can't control. If Joshua doesn't seem worried, chances are it's fine.

Joshua runs his hand through his hair, other hand in pocket, “Hah. Hard to say, really. If I’m being honest?” There's a slightly vicious look in Joshua’s eyes. “I’m kind of excited to see where they take it.”

... Neku takes it back. He forgot Joshua fakes his emotions for a living.

Neku crosses his arms, “Sounds like you’re lying through your teeth, Josh.”

Joshua realizes that he’s not the best at keeping up his facade when he himself is exhausted.

That, or Neku’s just gotten to know him that well. Joshua's little tics, stims, fidgets...

He kind of hates it, but he also kind of loves it. That wasn’t Neku’s business, though.

Joshua replies, brushing the hair out of his eyes, “It’s fine,” he rolls his eyes. “They’re not doing anything blasphemous, in any case.”

The silence is thoroughly awkward, between the two. It’s a wonder that the next Day hasn’t begun yet.

Joshua is just waiting, while Neku has other things on his mind...

Neku sighs, “... I get that you’re basically a God, and everything, but are you taking care of yourself?”

Joshua gives him an irritated look, “What, worried I can’t handle a bit of pressure from the opposition? You wound me, Neku.”

“Geez, is it wrong to be worried about my Partner?” Neku mumbles, rubbing the back of his head, “You just look... Tired.”

The more he cared, the more Joshua took offense to it, “You’re practically bleeding at every cut. You really have no place to be speaking to me like that.”

“Sorry, I haven’t exactly had time to rest,” Neku scoffs.

“That makes the both of us, then.”

“Guess it does.”

The two stare at each other for some time, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed.

...

Neku sighs, letting go of the tension in his shoulders,

“Josh, I think we’re both tired as hell of all of this.”

Joshua tilts his head, unconvinced, “Your point being?”

“We need a long-term game plan.”

“You think I don’t have my own?”

“If you do have one, feel free to let me in on it.” Neku stands his ground. ”Just telling me to relay information to you isn’t exactly what I’d call a good plan.”

Day ???

"Well, well, if it isn't my splendiferous wonderful old friend, Nekkykins!"

"Hey, Coco."

Neku was given a brief explanation on what was going to happen, some time ago. He would return to Shibuya with the assistance of the Harrier Reaper Coco Atarashi, which included assisting her with something else, afterwards.

‘... And you’re telling me I have to wait a whole month before she gets here?’

‘That’s the deal, Partner. Don’t worry, it’ll all pay off in the end.... You trust me, don’t you?’

Said assistance would likely lead to more information about the Shinjuku Inversion being uncovered, as she has close ties with someone who was investigating, as well... That person in particular was in need of help.

"Since I’m here to pick you up, we should get going soon! Althooough... I also have something else for you!"

... Neku knew better than to let personal feelings get in the way, at this point, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat bothered... Even so.

It's too much trouble to hold a grudge against someone for taking your life.

Even if it was isolating, horrifying, and downright made him feel like he didn't exist... For three, long, years...

It was fine. It ended up being for the greater good--

Coco cheered, “Here are some fresh new clothes for you!"

Neku’s response was delayed, as he’s deep in thought. "Huh...? Thanks, I guess."

"C'mon, c'mon, try it on, at least!" Coco prompts him, putting them in his hands. "Those old clothes must be so dingy and tight, by now!!"

"Alright, I get it... Give me a second."

It doesn't take too long for Neku to change, once he's found a place to do so.

Somehow, his old clothes never did shrink, if any part of his wardrobe did stay the same size through the years, it would probably be his old headphones and music player.

He was no longer in possession of either, though.

... The new clothes were pretty comfortable. Fits his style, too.

Coco claps her hands, "You look suuuper cute! Plaid really suits you, y'know!"

"Uh... Thanks.” Neku rubs the back of his head, somewhat bashfully. “Can we get to Shibuya, then?"

"Yes, yes! Buuut, before that... We should arrange for a place to meet up after you get there. It'll be alot easier to explain things!"

“I’ll be helping your friend out, right? Then she can tell us more about the Inversion that took place here.”

Coco nods. “Super-duper Splendiferous! You already know what you need to do!”

"Works for me. How about we meet up at Cat Street... Wildkat work for you?"

"Oh, you mean where it used to be?” Coco takes Neku by the arm. “Sure thing! Let's gooo!"

Not being given the time to process the implications of 'where it used to be', the two are already off to the races.

Things seem... Different, as Coco's dragging him along. He's not sure, but... Somehow, the inverted city of Shinjuku didn't seem as small or cramped, as the two approach it's border.

He didn’t even know there was a border, but if he guessed anyone would know about it, it would be a Reaper of Coco’s caliber... And not someone like himself.

While they're running at a brisk pace, Coco realizes something, and slows her pace. Letting go of Neku's wrist, she turns to him. Guilt apparent in her puppy-eyes, she bows before him,

"By the way... I'm ever so sorry for what I did three years ago!! I'm a whole new person now, I promise you!!!"

Neku can't shake the feeling that he can't trust or forgive Coco, no matter how close she thinks she is with him, and even if he's determined to help her friend.

It doesn't mean he can't try, at least. Neku gave the guy who killed him twice multiple chances to make it up to him, why wouldn't he do the same here?

... And for one thing, she actually apologized.

"... It's alright. That reminds me, though..."

"Oh? Do tell."

... It was fine to ask, wasn’t it? There was still one thing he was dying to know, for as long as he’s been dead.

"Why did you kill me, anyways, Coco?"

There's a vacant expression resting on his face, as he asks.

Any frustrations, tears, any sense of despair for his own death... It left him a long time ago.

He had the feeling death meant very, very little to Coco. Surely, it was just a small question to her.

"Ahh, about that... The truth is..."

Coco fiddled her thumbs, guilt written all over her face,

"IwantedyouandMisterMini-MotototeamupandsaveShinjukutogetherbutthenitwastoolate..!!!"

Coco takes a deep breath, having confessed in one fell swoop.

... It took Neku a second to process that.

Well. It was what it was.

"It's alright. Let by-gones be by-gones, and all that, I was just--"

Suddenly, a headache crashes through Neku's head,

"G-gh..." He clutches his head, staggering.

Coco exclaims, "Are you alright, Nekkykins?!"

It's another Vision. A Future Vision.

“Beat, are you okay?!”

“Don’t stop-- Keep goin’! I’mma stay here and keep him at bay.”

That's... It's Beat's voice.

“P-p-preposterous!”

“I can’t give y’all a speed boost right now... So I gotta slow him down instead. Ya feel?”

Something’s hurting him, someone’s hurting Beat--

“What’re ya waitin’ for? Go!”

“And leave you behind?!”

“I’m tryna buy y’all some time here, yo!”

“And what happens when you run out of time?!”

“We’ll see.”

What is he doing... What is Beat doing?!

“No, we won’t!”

“There’s no way we’re letting you face him all by yourself! You’re gonna get erased!”

Who?! Who are they facing--

... Erasure...?

“What-- you don’t think I can handle ‘im?”

“No, I don’t!!”

“Defeat is inevitable.”

“Y’all cold, yo!”

“And you’re hurt, Worms-For-Brains!!”

"Either we all escape together... Or we all fight together!"

Beat, you have to listen, BEAT--

"Look-- I’mma need you to chill for a sec. We all stay and fight, we all get erased."

“... B... Beat...? What are you doing...?”

Coco’s saying something, but Neku can’t hear her. He can’t hear anything except for--

"Ain’t nobody gonna be left to save Shibuya... I’ll catch up with you later, but for now, y’all gotta go.”

Is he... Is Beat planning to sacrifice himself...?

“Sorry, pal... Can’t let ya through.”

“Beat!!!”

That younger boy called out in fear, clutching a Pin desperately, a weakened Beat is holding back a rampaging Leo Cantus, there's no chance he’ll last long--

Before Neku even realized it, every second that Future Vision amped up, his legs were running for the Barrier of Shinjuku,

The vision ebbs away, but everything in it is burned into his mind,

‘He looks so different--'

any exhaustion Neku might have had was completely gone,

'He looks how I used to look, even with his own headphones--'

replaced with the urgent need to save one of his closest friends.

'He's throwing his life away to protect the others, the other Players in the visions I've been getting for the past three weeks--'

Neku's thoughts are burning inside his head, as the Vision keeps replaying in his head, he feels like he's about to combust,

‘Hang in there, Beat, hang in there!’

He doesn't even realize he's completely left Coco behind, but

There are tears streaming down Neku’s face,

his breathing's turned erratic,

his non-beating heart is beating, loudly in his chest,

Neku needs to get back to Shibuya,

Neku needs to save Beat,

Right now,

Before it's too late.

Before it's too late...

BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE--

#joshua #twewy #ntwewy #the world ends with you #neo: the world ends with you #yoshiya kiryu #sakuraba neku #coco atarashi #neo twewy spoilers #twewy spoilers

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