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whambambatfam · 18 hours ago

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Wing of a web

Chapter 4

Uuugghh, so late... I'm so sorry!

I cut this chapter down so many times, and despite its normal length, all the cutting down makes it feel incomplete. I just hope it's not bad ⁽͑ʺˊ˙̫ˋʺ⁾̉

The thing that really messed me up is that there's only a few months before Tim comes in?? This is not enough time for grief or my plotline.

15 - ... That's it.. so much is happening to this poor child in such a short amount of time..

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The sun cuts through Gotham's smoggy morning skies. An almost ever-present fog settled softly over the city, pierced only by the dark skyscrapers it lays over. Bruce is doing the one thing he's feared since bringing in the first Robin.

Burying his child.

Yet, he's stopped at the door, the old butler standing firm in his way, "Alfred what are you doing? We've got-"

He's cut off with a tut, "I won't allow it, I will not let you hurry off this time. Master Bruce, you must spare a moment of your time. Just this once." Arms crossed and face set in that fatherly disapproval Bruce always faltered under. He would usually have at least an idea of what he was being scolded over.

Now? He's not feeling like a great detective; he's just lost and hurting. "What's this about? You know what today is—Jason's funeral." Again, he's cut off by an increasingly frustrated Alfred.

"Exactly, sir. You ought to know how much they meant to one another." Besides them, Barbra and Gordon had planned to meet at the cemetery. The grimace over his face only grows as Bruce wracks his brain for a clue.

Giving in, he asks exasperated, "Who?"

Alfred's glare deepens, but before he can open his mouth, there's a commotion. Hurried feet, half covered, race down the hall until you slam to a stop at the banister. "I'm here! I'm so sorry!" Hobbling down the stairs, you huff, pulling on your other shoe fully.

"Oh, you're coming?" He blinks down at you, brows knitting together.

You turn your face so fast it feels like you're on the verge of whiplash. Lips nearly falling agape as you look incredulity at him. "What are you even saying? Of course?!" How could he even ask you something like that? Hot anger grips at your ears, raking down the back of your neck to dig its fingers into you deeply.

"No, you're right." He clears his throat, shame flitting across his face. You've never raised your voice at him. "Of course you're coming."

"Shall we get going then, Master Bruce?" Alfred seems mostly satisfied, finally opening the door.

The press couldn't wait to dig their fingers into this tragedy. Chomping at the bits over a false date. All to be the first to shove a camera in the face of someone grieving. Bruce has been working to keep his affairs private.

There is only a handful of people at the actual service. You arrive first with Alfred and Bruce. Gordon comes next, bickering with Barbra as he insists on pushing her wheelchair for her. You hate that you don't know what happened to her. Just like you'll never know what really happened to Jason.

Your father stands between you and the commissioner as they speak in hushed tones. Maybe it's a moment of clarity, maybe it's just pity, but he pulls you into his half embrace. The press of his solidly built side warmed you against the bite from a sudden gust of wind.

Your ears can't take in the pastor's words, lost to your own thoughts. Only days ago, you had him in your grasp, bemoaning his safety. A painful irony that hurts when you can't hold the laugh that turns into a sob. Knees giving out under you, hands wiping fruitlessly at your face.

Alfred grunts softly as he lowers himself to the ground beside you. He rubs soothing circles into your back, "Take your time, young master. I'll be here with you as long as you need."

"Where-?" Looking up, your head wipes around.

With a heavy sigh, he pats your shoulder again, "Your father left with Commissioner Gordan and his daughter." You hadn't even noticed him leave.

Releasing a similarly deep breath, you lean into his comfort. "Right, of course."

Because, of course, Batman has better things to do than grieve. How? How can it be fair? How can he fight on? How can the city buzz around you? How can day turn to night? How can the earth keep spinning? How can it all just leave you behind?

When your world has come to a stop at the foot of a perfect square of fresh soil.

You went back the next day, and the next, and the next. After a week, you stopped asking Alfred to take you. He was busy as it was, and it was starting to feel embarrassing despite his understanding and reassurance. MJ and Gwen have gone with you, both together and separately. Jason had grown close to each of you in the precious few years you all knew him. Pushing on, once a day, after grinding through school and extracurriculars, you bid your friends a good night and head to the graveyard. Coming to sit at the same spot that's worn to a small dirt patch in your regular use.

Just as when he was here with you, you told him about your day, grades, drama, worries, hopes, the things he would have liked to see, to hear, to eat, to do... But he couldn't, and after a few weeks, you weren't sure if this was helping anymore. Thinking of him in everything just to repeat it all back to an empty sky.

Even your usual late-night ornithology had dived. Well, more like a stumble, but... It's different now. The whole thing just felt so unfair. Seeing him suited up perfectly, like your brother's not in a grave. Robin is gone, and Batman moves along.

It's one of those nights when you are more hate-watching than admiring. Still taking your camera with you. What's the point in going out if you don't get at least one pic'? You're on the bus headed downtown when a familiar buzzing in your pocket jostles you from the passing sights of the city. Reading the contact your stomach drops seeing the name Dick Grayson display across the screen. You squeeze the phone in your hand, taking a deep breath before putting on your 'I totally want to be talking to you' voice, "Hey, Dickie, what is it?" God forbid he thinks something is wrong. You'll be tracked down and shipped back to the manor 'for your own good.'

"Wanted to make sure you got home alright." He says flippantly, it sounds like he's out and about somewhere, likely trying to look good for someone.

"I'm almost there. Call you when I get in." Of course, you couldn't escape a call with your Big Brother without a safety lecture. You know he's only doing it because he feels obligated. It's his thing, to be annoying, to nag really, clucking on and on like he's some mother hen. "Yep.. Yeah.. Okay..." But you've lived in the city long enough to know when to cross the street and places with names like 'Crime Alley' are bad.

Funnily enough, it makes you think he's doing too much, for once, but you know.. he just doesn't want to lose anyone else... "Of course, Dick." But it's all fake, purely for show, tricking just himself. You won't be home tonight, and he won't notice when you don't call.

It's obvious how ready he is to dismiss and forget this, you, by the end of his monologue. Then, he says, "Okay, well, I'll talk to you later." liar, "Buh-bye, little bird, love you!" How it must make him feel so good to think you two are so close, whenever he decides you are.

You're almost out of this call, and he's hanging on the other side expectantly for it. So, un-gritting your teeth as best you can, you responded, "Love you, too, bye."

Stepping off the bus, you pull your hood lower. Making your way through the downtown streets unseen. Just as the heart of many American cities, the heart of Gotham City smells like a filthy urinal. If only you could run back to wherever the fuck you came from. Though, for all you know, that could still leave you stuck in the city of crime.

It's not all bad; Alfred and your friends are here with you. Though the latter two are becoming increasingly concerned about your mourning patterns. While the first looks you over in a sad, knowing gaze, he's seen how Waynes deal with grief. He's simply thankful you haven't gone that far.. Yet...

You make your way cautiously through the outskirts of the old ACE chemicals. The gunfire has settled, and you feel more confident in the silence to push through the broken doors. You aren't sure where in the facility Bats ended this fight, but you're itching for one more shot.

The last one, him stalking along a rooftop just before he made his descent, could suffice. Coiled like a spring, ready to pounce. He's had an edge to his movements since the incident. A volatile air that translated into hard hits and meaner take downs. You shouldn't be here, you've seen enough, gotten too close. Yet, you just couldn't help yourself.

I'm the corner of your eye; you catch his figure. He hops from a rail and slips through a broken skylight. Trying to get back out the door again, you trip. A rusty pipe catches your foot, sending you skidding across concrete. Patting across the roof tells you he's made his escape. Confirmed concretely by the rumbling of the Batmobile coming to life.

Huffing at your own inability, you pull yourself up slowly before realization hits. Your camera. Scrambling to your feet, you search for the device that had been flung from your neck. Plucking it from its spot across the floor, you inspect the damage.

Which is brutal, to say the least. Bits of lens fall from place as you turn it over. Retching the SD card from the scuffed device, you settle on a half-set of stairs. Sighing heavily as you rest your aching body carefully against the rusted metal.

Well, looks like you really won't be getting that final picture after all.

Stewing in your loss, you don't notice the small spider descending on you until it nips the side of your neck. With a yelp, you swat it off you, peering down in ire as it lands in the dirt of the factory floor. A body of vibrant red and blue that almost glowed, ferried along by spindly legs that moved like Claymation. You swipe your case, chomping it up in the camera carrier. Snapping it shut and zipping it up quickly. It'll stay, right? If this weird thing just bit you, surely Alfred would want to see it. It could be poisonous.. or venomous? Whichever, you just hope you don't die from this freaky spider.

At home, you drop the little thing in a jar you had fished out of the cupboards. Poking holes in the lid with one of your stray sewing pins. In the bathroom, you yank your shirt aside. Two little puncture wounds are surrounded by aggravated skin. Stippled and angry in color, you try not to touch it but, fuck, does it itch like crazy. You had returned home that night only to discover that Alfred was not home. Leaving you a meal to reheat and note of his return. That's fine! You'll simply run all this by him when he's back. Surely this won't kill you, right?

But, as you lay in bed, writhing around in pain, you reconsider. You're almost certain, as you begged to the empty room for Alfred's merciful aid, this may be your end. Hot pedipalps of agony claw over every inch of your body.

Despite the night when morning came you woke up feeling much better, different even. Certainly not emotionally, but physically. Your body feels different, changing. Not in a puberty way either, well, yes but, no. Your hand immediately reaches to find the mark on your neck. The memory of its irritation trickles through your rousing subconscious only to be met with nothing. Skin only slightly raised and the shade of a long held scare in the shape of the smallest circles are your only proof. Like something that happened long ago and not just last night.

Something stops you from telling Alfred. Maybe it's the teenage audacity to think that if you're not visibly hurt, everything must be okay. Right? Yeah, you totally got this. So, you head to school. What was there to be done about it now?

"This thing bites you, nasty bad, you're dying, but you miraculously recovered and now everything is okay." Gwen rehashes your story suspiciously, "Yeah, I wouldn't believe you either."

Knocking your shoulder with hers, you huff your defense, "Okay, but it did happen, though."

MJ gives you a funny face, hung up on one detail in particular, "Why would you bring it home though? Are you gonna keep it?" She leans into your side, doing your cheek, "Weird lil' pet for the lil' weirdo?"

Deadpanning at her teasing, you muse, "Actually, I was thinking of putting it in your locker."

She gasps a melodramatic, "YOU WOULDN'T." Before ripping herself away like you've physically wounded her.

Unfortunately, she stumbles into the arms of Flash-fucking-Thompson, "Aww, what's wrong, baby?" He wraps his arms around her waist, caging her against him, and he leers over her. "Need me to save you?"

MJ throws wild kicks and elbows until she's released from his grasp, "Haven't I made it clear? I'm not interested. Leave me the hell alone already flash." Huffing, she quickly backs away from him behind you and Gwen.

Flash steps up to your small group, "Don't be so stuck up!"

Gwen meets his step in turn, "She said no, being an ass isn't going to change that." She glared up at him, blocking his way.

Rolling his eyes, Flash moves to pass her. "Come on, I'm just having a little fun." There's a tingling sensation at the back of your neck as he brushes past Gwen. Time feels like it stops when Flash lifts his hand towards Mj.

Reaching out with a swiftness that you've never known, you catch his wrist, "Can't you get it through that thick skull of yours?" You're not sure where it comes from but you can practically hear his teeth grit as he scoffs hot breath in your face. "Maybe there's just nothing in there for it to hold onto."

He grips the front of your shirt in his free hand, "Do you wanna get put in the ground?" You would normally be fucking terrified. Sure, you've got training, but Flash is a lot bigger and could definitely lay you the fuck out. Yet, you don't back down, especially when he tries to pull his wrist from your grasp, and it doesn't budge. Even when he tries again. and again.

As confusion spreads across his face, a grin crosses yours, "I'd like to see you try."

Yanking his arm, you surprise even yourself as Flash's back dents the lockers behind you. Staring wide-eyed and mouth agape you watch him groan as he raises back to his feet.

"Glaring up at you, he grunts out a low, "You're so fucking dead."

The blur of his hand balling into a fist swing towards you and it felt second nature to stepping around each throw. Ducking away with grace that left even you shocked, dodging each move he made was almost too simple.

Mj leans over Gwen's shoulder. "Should we help?"

Panic floods over Flash as he huffs and puffs, trying near desperately now to land a single blow. Until you finally reach out, snatching up his wrist in your iron-clad grasp. His eyes toggle between your hand and your face as if he can't believe it actually belongs to you.

Arms crossed, Gwen watched wide-eyed as Flash struggled in vain to free himself, "Which one...?"

The moment your hand connects with his chest, the force sends him flinging backwards. Past the crowds that gathered to watch, and skidding to a stop across the half way down the hall. While you think he deserved it, you're still standing in this middle of the hall. The flames of shame lick up your spine, climbing higher as an authoritative voice calls out from through your audience, "What's going on out here?!" Standing there as aghast as the people around you, the reality of oh fuck, you just did that, engulfs you entirely.

So, what do you do? Well, you run, of course. Your friends go after you, try to at least. While you commend their efforts, you've never run this fast in your life. Any major obstacle suddenly feels like a minor inconvenience at best. Skidding around corners, you bound over cars like trash cans and swivel past ruffled people in an apologetic blur as you tear down the bustling city streets.

Finally coming to a stop, partway through your recovery from tearing through Gotham on foot, halfway through your school day, after... Alfread is going to be pissed. Beyond pissed. You just know it; you've never been in a fight before. Not like this; you weren't one to cause trouble at school. God, he's going to be so disappointed. Fuck, why did you do that? How did you do that?

Finding yourself bent over and heaving heavily at the doors of Wayne manor but, after hardly a moment of recuperation, you tear the door open. Only to remember too late that they're locked. It doesn't stop the doors from busting open at your commands as bits of metal and wood fly from place at the destructive entrance. Leaving with a broken door, dropped jaw and wondering...

What the fuck is happening to you?!

Tossing aside the useless barrier, your mind is a tangled web of fear and confusion. Simply trying to hide away in your room seems to be a challenge. Nothing can stand a chance against your touch, door handles, faucets, that poor little stool you tripped over... Obliterated under your misplaced foot.

Then, to make it better, while snatching up your blanket to hide under, a silky string shoots out of your wrist. Thin strings of silk connect the fabric back to you, sticking from a small mark on your inner wrist, ripping your hand away another comes from you to stick to the wall. You're already fuzzy, panic-stricken brain raddles uselessly in your head until you've finally wrapped snuggly in your blanket. In that, you couldn't help laughing, while you got what you wanted, you hadn't planned to do so while strung up in silken webs of your own peculiar making.

Stewing in your frustrating and accidental cocoons, you jolt at the sound of a sudden gasp from the main entrance, "Uhh.. Alfred?!" Nervously you cry out from help to the only person who could do so.

Hurried footsteps deliver you the alarmed sight of Alfread. "Young Master-!" Catching sight of you at the end of a line of destruction was one thing, but this. "Oh, my word..."

Squirming in your cage of web and blanket, your muffled voice admits sheepishly, "I think I might... Need some help."

With a deep sigh, the old butler gets to work doing what he can. It takes a while, but you're soon cut loose. Shaking his head, he quietly assesses the damage. He steps away to give you the time to pull yourself and your room together. Tearing the web down and straightening fallen doors with a sulk. It took enormous effort to not cause more damage as you helped clean up your mess.

A hand lays on your shoulder as you trudge back to your room. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?" He offers in a gentle tone.

Everything that's happened in such a short period of time, for some reason, the first thing that comes to your mind is, "I got in a fight at school..." Your head's hung, but the snort he tries to hide in a cough is still pretty audible.

His hand moves to pat your head. "While that's quite disappointing to hear, I believe there to be a more pressing matter at hand, young master." He lifts the other to present a distinctly batman-branded knife. "This is the only thing that could cut through that... web."

"Right! Yeah..."

Praying to anything that will listen you list off to Alfred how you when somewhere you should have been, hurt yourself, broke your camera, got bitten by an obviously suspicious spider.. took down someone who you were no match for typically.. broke a few more things and... wow, you are so fucked.

Yet, Alfred, your gracious Saviour, waves the fight off as an accident under rather peculiar circumstances. Putting yourself in the situation that led to said circumstances, on the other hand, well... You're lucky your only punishment is to repair the damage you've caused. Which were quite surmountable, made somehow both easier and harder with these new abilities you've come into.

Though you still must deal with the consequences at school, Alfred defended you the best he could. It was surprisingly easy for him to pay them for repairs; what they really appreciated was more donations for school maintenance if everything was swept away. You would both receive a punishment, a week of suspension, for simply causing a minor disturbance on school grounds. Not a word of anything beyond that was said to your father. For once, this was something he was the last person you want to have in attention.

You're advancing in every physical activity you put yourself through far faster than ever before. Gymnastics is a breeze, and material arts- actually, this new strength has begot the need to learn to... Reel it in. You're not trying to actually hurt your training partner, but it was all becoming increasingly difficult to handle. Alfred sneaks you a set of papers titled Super Strength Balance Training filled with helpful tips for your very specific problem and rather cute example pictures. You wonder where he got them...

It doesn't take long for you to try out making those webs again. It hasn't happened again since. So, you're worried that maybe it ran out? Does that excuse you preces on the roof of a scarily tall building? No, but your incredible new ability to jump to mind blowing heights and skipping along building tops is actual as fun as they make it look but still real fucking scary.

As fun as it is to hop around and lift the biggest thing you can find around the mansion, to Alfred's dismay. Glancing over those strange marks, you look up to an intimidating crane and flick your wrist out. Just for nothing to happen, so, you try again, "Up up and away web!" and again and, again, "Go web go!" and finally after contorting your hand in all kinds of ridiculous ways, you give up.

Pulling at your sleeve, you inspect your wrist, poking at it in frustration. It's not until you press your middle and ring finger to your palm that a string of web fly from you. You watch in wide-eyed and dropped-jaw astonishment as it soars over the crane you were aiming for and out of sight. Now, with more purpose, you aim at the metal, breathe deeply, press your fingers to your palm, and shoot.

Embarrassingly, you gasp pretty loud when the web actually latches into place. Grabbing the silk strand, you step up to the ledge. There was so much you still had to do, say, fix, but right now... You just want to know what it was like to fly. Just like they do. "Tallyho!" Kicking off the wall, you swing over the city street. Your landing was.. Less than graceful, slamming into a billboard, but you still made it! Laying breathless, night creeps in to chase away the lingering rays of light over the vacant rooftop, and you stay long after you've caught your breath. For the first time in months, everything else melted away, and you were happy.

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dellieghtful · 3 days ago

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7-Days of Recovery With You 🍧🌸

SYNOPSIS: After getting injured and blacking out during a battle, you had not other choice but to take a week-long rest at home to recover. Unfortunately, the universe had a different vision for your dedicated rest & relaxation and decided to send in not just one but all five of your "emergency contacts". Oh the joy of being their favorite past time.

🍓 A/N: Hello! First fanfic here on tumblr about our favorite LADS boys (்▿்). I'll be posting daily (if I can make time lol) for this one! Each part will have a different pairing with all the fluff & humor I can squeeze into the fics. Hope you like it!

- p.s: I'll work on tumblr's interface so I can figure out how to add pictures and stuff to make it more interesting~

˚₊·Xavier's Miracle Soup—̳͟͞͞♡

Your week had been more than just the typical stressful encounter. Well, first and foremost, you took a hit. A pretty bad one, to say the least. It just so happened you were out in the field with Xavier, fighting off Wanderers just like any other day. It was supposed to be an easy job, a quick 30-45 minute battle, however you never anticipated to be battling wave after wave of Wanderers.

Now, here you were under bedrest, seeking recovery from your battle, surrounded by a thick blanket and rows and towers of pillows for your own comfort. Ironically, despite all the comfort your own bed has brought to you over the years, nothing could compete to the impending feeling of doom you were feeling at that moment.

Your phone kept buzzing non-stop, one message after the other, not just from one but from all five of your "emergency contacts". For some reason, they thought it was wise to build a groupchat and include you in it, to keep "tabs" on your well-being. Knowing well-enough your house is littered with security cameras from Caleb's recent "house project" and Mephisto being on the 24/7 watch, constantly pecking at your window to check on you and most probably bring "gifts" from Onychinus' one and only leader, Sylus. Not to mention, all five men have access to your current vital signs that directly notify them if it gets too low or too high, all thanks to Zayne's newly-installed and gifted watch, which clings onto your wrist like a second skin.

Grumbling to yourself as you rolled on your bed, shielding your eyes from the light peeking through the curtains, "So much for a relaxing long weekend".

» Flashback: 3 days ago . . . «

"Xavier!" you yelled across the field., "2:00!". Loud shots were fired into the air accompanied with the clanging of metal hitting almost everything in its path. "There's too many," Xavier respons, panting heavily as he wipes off the sweat and dirt off his forehead. "Any ideas?" he asks, slashing his sword through the air as another Wanderer comes too close for its own comfort towards you and Xavier.

You and Xavier had been fighting Wanderers non-stop since early in the morning. What was anticipated to be an easy job for the both of you experienced hunters, became nearly a full-day battle. "Well, making it out alive is one of them," you half-heartedly joked, trying to figure out another way to eliminate at least most of the Wanderers stalking your way. You and Xavier were about to be cornered against a large boulder, with no other exit available for the both of you to make it out alive without leaving the other behind. With quick thinking, Xavier slashed his sword in the air and cut down a nearby tree, crushing the remaining Wanderers that were crawling towards the both of you.

With heavy panting, you let your knees buckle and kneel to the floor, carefully clutching both of your guns to the ground. "What the hell was that?", swiping off all the sweat and grime from your forehead and carefully tucking away hair strands of your now messy ponytail to the side.

"It was more than what we had expected," Xavier holds out a hand and helps you get up. Not even standing at your full height, you felt the pang to your chest, you quickly grasp the skin over your heart to try and ease the pain. You felt the whole world spinning, bits of black blotches decorating your vision, you couldn't help but feel the swaying motions of your entire body, feeling the wave of pain and exhaustion finally crashing into you.

With one last glance at Xavier, you blacked out and felt your body, crash to the floor with only hearing Xavier's worried voice over and over until everything became tuned out.

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

It wasn't long before you regained consciousness and finally woke up from your deep slumber. Quickly looking around the room, familiarity made you realize that Xavier had brought you back home in your apartment. Carefully expecting your body, you could clearly see you were beaten and bruised from head to toe with your body being covered in layers of bandages and band-aids, for the smaller cuts.

"You're awake," a voice finally broke you out of your thoughts. As you lift your gaze up, you felt a soft smile grace your face. It was none other than your one and only partner in crime, Xavier, who was seemingly unscathed from the recent battle, carrying what seems to be a steaming hot bowl of what looks like a multi-colored soup. Well, crap.

"You blacked out, I had to bring you to the nearest hospital. You were out for a long time." Xavier said slowly, walking towards your bed with the soup in his hand, carefully grabbing a nearby chair with his vacant hand and setting himself ontop of it. "You overused your powers today, the association has been informed that we finished the task but, seeing your current condition, they're letting you take a break for a couple of days for you to fully recover".

"What? No, I can't. We still have so much paperworks to deal with. Not to mention the sudden influx of Wanderer activity within neighboring cities of Linkon." Your eyes widden at the thought, trying to slowly get up and fix yourself to a seated position, only to feel a pang of pain that puts your back against the board of your bed with a small thud and a wince of pain that makes you grab your waist in hopes to soothe the pain.

"Exactly my point. I'll handle the rest for the meantime. You need to rest. Captain Jenna has already made plans to assign me with a temporary partner while you rest up. We'll continue the mission from here and I'll update you as much as I can". Xavier, carefully, placing the soup onto the nearby table, gives your hand a small squeeze and a reassuring smile. As he pulls away, his gaze drops to his homemade soup and carefully picks up the bowl and scoops a spoonful of it.

You could feel the dread crawling out of you as Xavier stirs the soup and grabs another handful of the soup onto the spoon. "This is my own homemade recipe. I made it a while ago while you were asleep. It's mixed with all the good stuff I could find in your fridge". Well, double crap! I haven't even cleaned out my fridge for the week.

"That's so sweet of you Xavier, it means a lot but you don't have to feed me. I can handle it on my own." Reassuring Xavier as you carefully try to find a comfortable sitting position on the bed. Also hoping & praying that Xavier wouldn't feed you his bathbomb of a soup. Who knows what the man found and put into his miracle of a soup?

"No, I insist. Open wide," While grabbing both of your cheeks, Xavier quickly grabs the spoon and shoves the content forcefully into your mouth. With no choice but to swallow, you try and close your eyes to somehow pretend you're eating anything but the bathbomb soup.

Trying not to grimace at the recently-swallowed spoonful of bathbomb soup, you gave Xavier a weak smile, "Wow, it's...definitely something".

"I'm glad you like it. I won't leave until you finish all of it. Doctor's orders after all." You could feel your soul ascend and leave your body. How could you possibly finish this whole soup infront of Xavier? Taking in a deep breathe, you playfully twirl the spoon with your fingers as it rotates gently with the soup in the bowl, hoping it would buy you enough time for Xavier to go home and you can dispatch the bathbomb soup.

"Oh and, don't worry about anything else. Everything else is covered. The association said that they informed your four other emergency contacts. So, while I'm not here to take care of you, either of the four will do the job." Xavier smiles sweetly, as he wips out his phone and shows you an email from the association with his email attached to the receiver, along with not just two but four other emails? Why on earth would you have five emergency contacts? It wasn't like you were dying or anything, just beaten and bruised, but you'll definitely heal within a day or two.

"Wow, that's a lot of people but I'm sure I'll be fine. I'll only be gone for a couple of days."

"A week, you'll be gone for a week". Xavier corrected, looking through his phone to double check the email and its content. A whole week? What kind of joke is the universe trying to pull on you now? "Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to do then?"

"Well, for starters, you can finish your soup, I'll make up a new batch before I head out so I can give you time to rest". Xavier says, as he pats your head gently and slowly pushes away strands of your bangs to the side. Your eyes could never mistake the longing stare Xavier always does whenever he looks at you, as if worried you would disappear without a trace.

"I'll be fine. Have some faith in me, with your soup, I'll be back to work in no time." You say as you reach out for his hand and give it a tight squeeze and a reassuring smile.

Xavier couldn't help but smile, tidbits of little sparkles floating around him as you both reciprocate the emotion of relief, of being safe away from any worry and danger. "You'll always be my best partner in crime, you know? You've saved me more times than I can count".

"I'll always come to save you as you will always come and find me, no matter where I am". You couldn't help but smile but also wonder, what does Xavier mean by that, that you would always come and find him? Oh well, that's another mystery for another day.

"I think I'll rest up in while".

"Good, I'll make a new batch of soup. They should be arriving at any minute".

They?

And just like that, the universe decided to give you its own vision of rest & relaxation as a loud bang of the door accompanied by numerous voices flowed into your apartment.

"Pipsquek, I'm home! I got here as fast as I could!"

"Truly, we could have taken the elevator at different intervals. I don't think using your gravity evol to force the doors shut was wise".

"Oh doctor, relax. Surely, with your salary, we could pay a handsome fee and make another elevator to fit us".

"Or maybe we just don't visit at the same time? Her apartment's already cramped as is. Can't you find different day-offs or something?

Dear God, help me.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads #xavier love and deepspace #lads caleb #lnds caleb #lads zayne #lnds zayne #lnds sylus #lads sylus #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #˚₊·dellie writes—̳͟͞͞♡

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starrihan · 3 days ago

Note

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSMovrvKv/

girl i saw this tiktok and just IMAGINE HOW DOMINANT SUNOO/SUNGHOON would be in bed after finding out you admire idols other than them as their non-idol gf like 🤯

and the moment they find out through peeping the through your phone that you have other idols in your gallery they would call you greedy and will start to remind you how they can give you ANYTHING OUT OF THEIR JEALOUSY

no because him saying that on live was actually crazy but yes this SCREAMS sunsun!!! like they're both so sassy and i feel like Sunghoon is outwardly possessive but Sunoo is secretly possessive. like when he lets Jungwon use his skincare and he acts like its fine but he actually hates it he just doesn't wanna tell anyone. i used idols from other groups i hope thats okay! Sunoo would overcompensate while Sunghoon would punish you

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

Sunghoon:

He would have you face down, ass up, white-knuckling the sheets as he pounds into you, always stopping before you can actually cum.

"You think Soobin could make you feel this good huh? Would you let him see you like this, ass up in the air and pushing back on my dick like a needy whore? Such a greedy girl."

You frantically shake your head 'no', needing him to let you cum as soon as possible. But he's not buying it. Instead, he yanks your head back by your hair, whispering low in your ear as you wince at the sting radiating throughout the back of your head.

"Really? Then scream. Scream my name so loud that you never forget who you belong to, the only person that could ever make you feel this good. Maybe I'll let you cum then."

You muster up all the energy you have, screaming his name as loud as your vocal chords will allow you to. You needed this release, having been edged too many times for your foggy mind to keep up with.

"PLEASE SUNGHOON!!! I ONLY BELONG TO YOU!!!"

How he had so much control was beyond you. He's had you like this for at least an hour and hasn't cum once himself either. His patience has no bounds when it comes to you, it seems.

Your clenching walls indicate your approaching release to him, speeding up as he can tell you're on the brink— before pulling away from you for the nth time in a row.

"I know you can do much better than that, you dirty whore. Try again"

༄ ༄ ༄

Sunoo:

"Don't ever think about having a picture of another man in your phone again."

He'd say, harshly nipping at the fragile skin around your neck, hips making quick work of you, cum seeping out of your hole, both yours and his. You can only nod your head 'yes', the overstimulation catching up to you. Your lip was bitten raw trying to keep yourself from drooling all over, orgasm after orgasm the only thing on your mind.

"What? Too dumb to speak actual words? And not even an apology either? How greedy you truly are..."

You're panting at this point, unable to produce any sounds save for a couple of small whimpers here and there, even the ability to speak being taken away from you in this moment. As you prepare for what felt like your 100th release of the night, you manage to croak out a weak apology.

"Sunoo... I'm sorry please... I can't, t-take it..."

He snickers as a smirk draws onto his face, not buying it one bit.

"Tsk, shut up. Greedy whores don't get to beg for forgiveness, especially after I gave you so many chances before. Take what you so desperately deserve and remind yourself that no one else would ever make you feel as good as I can."

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

#starrihan #enhypen #enhypen smut #enha #enha smut #sunghoon #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #kim sunoo #sunoo #kim sunoo smut #sunoo smut

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divrce-moved · 2 days ago

Text

SPARKLE SPARKLE SUNSHINE FAQ!

q: what is sparkle sparkle sunshine?

a: she's a magical girl oc that i came up with and made a post about. she's very new as of writing this, and doesn't have a lot of backstory planned out. you can find more about her by going through the '#sparkle sparkle sunshine' tag on my blog.

q: isn't this just [blank]?/you should watch [blank]!/was this inspired by [blank]?

a: from what i've seen in the notes, yes, there's a LOT of anime and webcomics and aus and manga and video games and everything else that follows this formula. im never going to check any of them out, and this wasn't inspired by any of them. the only magical girl things i've ever watched was two episodes of sailor moon and half a season of miraculous ladybug. i'm not claiming to be the most creative person on earth, i'm just coming up with characters.

q: can i draw sparkle sparkle sunshine?

a: yes, you may! i have two pieces of art of her out right now, one of which is linked in the first link, the other one is here. with any luck, i'll get around to making references for her and the other three members of the team soon.

q: what's her city like?

a: her city is based on a mix of washington dc and baltimore. i'll hopefully get some concept art/an idea board out soon. it's called new haiser and it's in maryland.

q: when's the show/comic/whatever coming out?

a: it's not going to. i have lots of other ocs that i like more that are more likely to get media, which, even then, is unlikely because i don't have a lot of time or energy for creating things. she was meant to be a ten note post, not a franchise.

q: how many of the other sparkle sparkle team members are trans?

a: none of them. moonlight is a demigirl and loveheart is butch, but they all identify as cis.

q: so, what are the ships?

originally, i was going to do poly-sparkles, but you guys pissed me off with the shipping questions, so until further notice, they're all single. also moonlight is aegoromantic, starshine is lithrosexual, and loveheart is aroace.

#talk tag #sparkle sparkle sunshine

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kokonoooi · 3 days ago

Note

Hehehehe, kokonoi x sugar baby head canons? How much would he pay his pretty little baby everytime she cum?🥴🧐

⋆˙⟡ — PAY TO PLAY ¥💲

⟡ headcanons for kokonoi with his sugar baby.

⟡ cw: fem reader. f!masturbation, light degradation, praise.

a/n: a request for my beloved mootie! (who loves to torture me cause she knows how much I adore Koko🥴.) dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @cafekitsune

Kokonoi would pick his sugar baby from none other else than - the strip club.

Nobody could've used a lil boost in their financial status more than you could have right at the moment you met Koko.

It wasn't the first time you'd seen him in your club, but it was the first time he stayed to watch you dance.

You and you alone.

He was just supposed to be there for a meeting with the club's investors, but he couldn't let a pretty little thing like you out of his sight...

Within the first few weeks of being a sugar baby, your car was paid off, rent paid up for a year, and you might've had a few new designer bags in your closet. Maybe more than a few.

In a month's time, you really didn't need to go to work anymore, and most nights you didn't; you'd be at home, legs splayed wide open while on FaceTime with Koko.

Drooling out of both sets of lips as you held the expensive vibrator to your puffy clit, pretty manicured nails digging deep inside your hole until you make yourself cum and squirt all over your bedsheets.

You and Koko have a 'pay to play' relationship after all: he pays you to cum for him.

A cunning, money genius like Koko does everything with a purpose. Sure, he likes spoiling you with expensive things, paying your bills, paying for your feminine maintenance, etc. but it's even more fun for him when he gets to watch how absolutely drenched your cunt gets for him.

At this point, the Cash App notification sound could just about trigger an orgasm out of you; that's how often Koko was sending you funds.

The amounts would vary, depending on how many times you could make yourself cum, but he was never stingy with them - payments would come through before your fingers even leave your swollen entrance.

"Come on, baby, work those pretty fingers in that cunt for me."

"How bad do you want that new pair of shoes? That diamond necklace? You know it's all yours if you be a good girl and cum for me.."

"A pretty slut like you should be able to cum on command by now, hm?"

"Think I'll up your payment amount because you're so obedient.."

Koko's words always drove you over the edge, toes curling against the covers, the leather car seats, or even the cushioned couch in the corner of his office. Wherever and whenever he wanted you, you'd oblige.

Imagine your surprise when you one day receive a text from Koko that's not a request.

Koko💲:💬'Guess what, darling? I'm the new owner of your former club, so you can go ahead and quit stripping. I'll pay you personally and upfront, long as you keep that pussy wet for me.'

So you did quit. You did everything he asked of you and were rewarded handsomely.

Just wait until he starts fucking your pussy and paying you for every. single. orgasm that he gives you.

⟡ taglist. requests open.

©️ksakiswh0re-xo 🩸. do not repost or plagiarize my works.

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lavenderhateswritting · 2 days ago

Note

I’ve always like the idea of Batdad working at the Asylum when he and Bruce get a divorce but then one day on patrol Batman gets hit by a fear toxin and Robin is not around so the Asylum picks him up and Batdad helps him

The days drag on in Arkham Asylum. It is a monument to the grim state of Americas mental health institutions. Everyone thinks that Arkham Asylum is filled with the worst of the worst and sure the Joker and his ilk have graced the halls more times that can be counted, but there are people here real people who needed real help. Nobody wants to give them that help though to scared of the possibility of murderous psycho clowns and not worried nearly enough about those who have no one else who can help them.

You weren't a fighter, but in these halls you could find some way to help even if it was just a little. Helping people through their wost moments and helping them get their lives back was the ultimate goal and you worked at it everyday of your life.

Of course the main trouble makers could never give you a break. Scarecrow had decided that he wanted to break out and gassed the entire asylum as a parting gift. Great just fucking great. Now you're stuck in your office with a gas mask on trying to wait for the air filters to kick in and finally filter out the fear gass that had been released.

You needed a plan for tomorrow. So many mentally fragile people who were exposed to fear gas made to relive some of their worst traumas once again. You reached to pinch the bridge of your nose before you realised that the gas mask was still on your face. You needed to start thinking about what you would have to do to help your patients through these next few days of recovery.

A pounding sound at the door of your office forced you out of your thoughts. That wasn't right. The all clear signal hadn't been gven over the speaker which meant that Batman, Robin, and Nightwing hadn't contained Scarecrow and it wasn't safe to come out of your office yet. No one was supposed to be able to get this far into the building during a lockdown. You were trapped in your office with no way of getting out.

The pounding at the door continued louder and louder almost frantic at this point like whoever was on the other side was desperate to get in. God what if one of your patients had been left trapped in the chaos of a breakout. High on fear gas with no idea what was going on or where to go. Then again it could also be one of Scarecrow's goons trying to rip you a part and display your head on the gates outside.

You were going to have to make a decision though because whoever was out there was going to break the door down and then you'd have no way of keeping yourself safe during this breakout.

"Y/N!" Was yelled from the other side of the door followed by more crazed pounding. "Y/N! Please" You froze. It was Bruce and he sounded scared, desperate even. This could still be some kind of trick, but the situation was beginning to become more and more clear.

You inched your way towards the door just as you heard what sounded like something or someone being throw at it at full force over and over and over again. Bruce was throwing his body against the reinforced door. Bruce who was trying to stop Scarecrow with Damian and Dick. Bruce whose voice wasn't muffled through a respirator or gas mask. Bruce who was probably high on fear gas right now. Bruce who you haven't seen or spoken to in nearly 5 months.

"Batman is that you. You need to stop." You finally said while you stood around 6 feet from the door.

"Y/N! Y/N I'm here I've got you, I'm going to save you this time I promise." His voice was shaking like he was crying and couldn't hold his calculated facade any longer.

"Batman I'm fine, but you need to stop tryin to break down the door okay I-I'll open it and let you in okay, but you need to calm down." Your hand is hovering over the locking mechanism for the door not bad considering it's been able to hold off a berserking Batman.

"I'll save you, I'll protect you I promise." He sounds like he's having a breakdown on the other side of the door, but at least he's stopped trying to break the door.

You unlocked the door and then finally turned the knob. The door almost immediately collapsed inward because of Bruce's weight leaning against it you were never a weak man, but he was 6'3 and 200 lbs. When he finally realized that he was standing in front of you Bruce tackles you to the ground almost immediately.

You yelp as you're forced underneath the sheer mass and size of him. He's looking down at you now his cowl was still on, but his mouth was completly visible so you were right then no respirator or gas mask.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you I'm sorry." He's crying and tears are starting to flow down past the cowl and he's trembling on top of you.

"Batman I'm right here see I'm okay." You try to reassure him, but it's nearly impossible.

"No, no I couldn't save you, I couldn't protect you, all I've ever been good at is hurting you. You were right." He's dropped his head onto your shoulder and now his entire body is covering you completly.

"Bru-Batman you're just not well right now do you have an antidote for the fear gas." You've started to drop your hand down to his utility belt trying your hardest to reach towards the areas where you remember him keeping his antidotes only to find them completly empty.

"No, I'm a failure of a man I couldn't even keep you safe." Okay then Bruce isn't going to be of any help then what else could you do.

"Batman do you have your comm still on." You ask him if you're lucky his comms still on and you can let whoever is on the line know that he's in your office and needs an antidote. Bruce, however, has gone nearly completly nonverbal and is simply shaking and whimpering on top of you.

Okay one last thing you can do then. You reach your hand slowly along the edges of the utility belt until you finally found what you were looking for. An emergency beacon. You click it and then allow yourself to relax where you were. There was nothing you could do, but wait here for help to come. You reached up and began to rub slow circles into Bruce's back as you waited for help to come. You don't even think he could feel it mostly it just made you feel like you were actually being useful in some way.

Finally after what felt like hours you felt the presence of two people in the doorway to your office that you hadn't been able to close when Bruce came in.

"Welp, I guess that does make sense." You heard Dick say from the door way. "Sorry about this Y/N we lost track of him and couldn't get in contact." He's walking closer and until he's finally bending down in front of you in the Nightwng costume with a respirator over his face.

"Its no problem Nightwing just please give him the antidote and get him off of me. I've lost feeling in my legs." You can see the smile begin to spread across Dick's face when he looks at you two together God this was all so much easier when you didn't have to interact with Bruce.

"Come on lovebird time for your medicine." Dick said as he pulled a syringe out and pulled down Bruce's cowl. He injected the antidote into Bruce's neck and then turned to call toward the other presence in the doorway. "Robin come help me get him back to the batmobile okay."

So that's who you felt in the doorway the new Robin pads over towards you and Bruce.

"Tcht. Father this is unbecoming of a man of your standard." You can see him out the corner of your eye the grumpy little face he has on reminds you so much of Bruce it nearly makes you want to vomit.

"Don't judge him to hard Robin fear gas makes you do crazy things." Dick says. He's pulled the cowl over Bruce's face and has begun the process of pulling him off of you.

"Come on Bruce up we go now." Dick has had to physically seperate Bruce's arms from around your waist and is now trying to keep him from wrapping back around you. When they're finally up they slowly start to shamble out of your office together as you begin to pull yourself off the floor.

"I am to understand that you and my father have seperated because of me." You nealry jump out of your skin. You really weren't expecting Robin to still be standing next to you. Dick nearly drops Bruce on the floor out of shock. "Robin that was out of line."

"Its fine Dick really." You look Damian in the eyes. "Is that what he told you?" You can't see the his eyes under the domino mask, but you're almost certain he's rolling them.

"No, but I'm not a fool I know that you were there before my arrival and then you filled for divorcr after I had begun to live in the manor." He talks like a little gentleman it makes you smile a little.

"I didn't leave because of you Robin. I left because of him no one else was at fault and you are a child you had no say in any of this."

"I am no child do not treat me as such I understand more than you likely do. If you do not wish to admit the truth then fine." He turns then and stomps past Bruce and Dick.

"I'm sorry about that. We're still trying to teach him how to be a lot gentler with his approaches." Dick says.

"Its nothing Dick he's a child I understand." You turn your head out the window and can finally see the beginnings of the sun coming up over the Gotham skyline. "It was good to see you Y/N call me sometime you were like a father to me to you know."

"I will Dick I'm sorry"

#dc x male reader #male reader #batman x male reader #batman x reader #batman imagine #batman #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne

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machinemonstrosity · 16 hours ago

Note

hjust a qusetion but , would you consider writing for the minions of mafioso's...... im really fond of them freaks << 3 3 33 .

WARNINGS - NONE , silly headcanons for mafioso's henchmen , technically not an x reader but i don't know how else to tag it

a/n - i didn't know what to write since there's nothing about these guys other than one render......i'll write more next time, i promise! working through mobile sucks so i apologize if the image sizes and qualities are bad.

Mafioso's henchmen act like goofy cartoon villain sidekicks. While they can be serious and will get the job done, most of the time people are wondering how they even got into the mafia in the first place. They're a capable group of minions — just not the best in terms of scare factor.

To conceal their actual names, they nicknamed themselves with numbers. They also thought it sounded cooler.

ONE (1)

Out of everyone who tried to puff out their chest to claim the title, 1 received it due to being the oldest and most skilled of the group.

He's the most reasonable and level-headed of the henchmen, although that doesn't mean much. They all tend to bounce the same brain cell around like a game of hot potato.

The most stubborn when it comes to the gang's shenanigans and plans. Yet every time, without fail, he'll still cave and tag along. “Can't let the rest of ‘em get in trouble without me.” As he says.

He doesn't really express as much emotion as the others, but he will crack a noticeable smile or chuckle on occasion. Catching 1 letting out a full-on laugh is rare, normally only being something that happens with the rest of the minions. You're doing something right if he laughs around you.

TWO (2)

King of being competitive. Will absolutely take every small achievement or victory of his as a challenge to do better, especially if it's other people's. It happens to be playfully mutual among the others.

2 beats everyone at knife fights. Including 1.

He has a tendency to be the instigator of chaos. When they're inevitably caught causing a ruckus, all fingers are instantly pointing to him. Everyone still gets punished for it despite the snitching.

The tallest of the group. The running joke is that the tophat is the only reason for his placement on the height chart.

THREE (3)

The loudest of the group and the first to humor a terrible idea. That crowbar is always itching to be used.

3 is very short-tempered. He was unofficially banned from handling interrogations as the result of a group vote. The incident still isn't discussed to this day and is somehow still hidden from Mafioso.

Normally the last to show up for duty. This guy is an absolute night owl and stays up until the early hours of the morning.

Magically, laundry duty always falls onto 3. Very cruel magic that has the other henchmen giggling and smiling like kids in a candy store. Laundry day rotations are basically nonexistent now.

FOUR (4)

Being the youngest of the group, 4 is a certified rookie. It gets him picked on sometimes, but it's all in good fun.

Surprisingly, he's only the second shortest of the group.

One of the most unconvincing gang members the world has ever seen. 4 is friendly to a fault, having gotten into multiple sticky situations in his naivety. His inexperience is sympathized with, but the boys are trying their hardest to toughen him up a bit.

No matter how many times the henchmen get asked about why they joined the mafia, 4 is the only one who never gives an answer.

Around you, the boys would be total sweethearts! They have one rule: if the big boss is alright with you, it's a pass in their book, too. Whether they were ordered to or not, they'll insist on keeping a careful eye on you and ensuring you're safe and sound. Escorts and free lunch are your new normal.

It may be a bit overbearing at times, but their hearts are in the right places.

Just know it won't be them answering the call if you get hurt. At that point, they're only the messengers.

#📝 REQUESTS #forsaken #forsaken x reader

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melondecarabia · 3 days ago

Text

˙⟡ 36h observation period (2/3)

leo kurosagi x fem reader

smut, drama, some angst

mdni!

authors note: he's crazy in this one. also sad and angry. every person mentioned by him is catching strays lmao real hater behavior

tw: leo's villain arc, leo jorking it, leo being unhinged, is he a yandere or just a jealous freak? also mentions of babytrapping

summary: Leo's time in the 36 hours after escaping the consequences of his own actions. Part two to 24h sugar pill.

9:15 am

Holy shit shit shit shit shit.

The view of pine trees and bushes blur as he sprints at full force, Vagastrom as target.

Leo cannot believe that happened. Hooooooly fuck.

That fucking homewrecker! Leo can't even eat breakfast without someone fucking ruining it! Damnit! When he gets his hands on that- haaaahhhhh… He slows down, forced by the burning in his lungs and muscles. The cathedral isn't even visible in the horizon anymore, blocked by a dense forest and the distance. For once in his life, Leo is thankful that Alan forces him to go through endurance training at least twice a week. Thanks, himbo. I will hold back one insult today.

Damn… it feels like he's drinking molten lava with every breath. Leo has to place his shaking hands on his even shakier knees to not collapse as he swallows. No one's around to see him sweat rivers, at least. He might crashout if that happened, especially after… ugh. Whatever. He'll just walk back to his dorm, and pray you don't show up.

˙⟡

The dorm room Leo lives in is meticulously decorated, so that even with the hard to paint concrete walls and ugly fluorescent lights that he's not allowed to replace, it looks beautiful. There are pristinely arranged books on the glass table that he's never read (and doesn't intend to), and the random pipes in the corner are covered by a closet. Ultimately aesthetic, but boring and cold even with the plush carpet, so Leo is forced to wear both socks and slippers every day to not freeze. Hah. Even your run down, chaotic dorm is better, with it's warm and worn down wooden floors, and cozy atmosphere. Oof, he finally falls down to the mattress. The sound of thumping is still present, even if his breathing has returned to normal already.

…it was placebo. He knew what the anomaly does beforehand, got hit by it, and just continued to act like a lovesick dork because he thought there would be a clear sign of when it's effects wore off. Honestly, you're an enabler, because- But he made the Pinterest boards months ago, no matter how many bullshit excuses he could come up with right now. One for every room in a house, from entrance to bathroom to kitchen to bedrooms. No no, he started them because he was bored, not because of a crush. But, gradually, with every piece of information about your preferences, the median look became a blend of his and your styles. Ugh! He takes a decorative pillow and strangles it like a maniac. Stupid anomaly, stupid pollen, stupid emo nerd- Knock knock!

Leo's heart drops down to his ass for a good moment. Is it you? Is it that guy? "Haxs." The sound of low grumbling is a relief. Sho! He doesn't know about all that bullshit! He's oblivious to the fumbling of a century that occurred not even an hour ago! If that information makes it out of that cathedral he'll burn it down himself for fuck's sake. Or get Sho to do it with a dare? Boy's night, like the good old times.

"Yeah yeah, don't bust down my door, Sho." The mentioned man is wearing the academy uniform, not the Vagastrom one. Low whistle. "Wow, model student Haizono! You wanna become valedictorian or what, dressed up so properly?" Leo already feels better seeing the unimpressed look on Sho's face. He knows it's not judging, or even serious, just… reacting to his banter, as usual. "Yeah, I'll win that Laurel Crown singlehandedly." Chortle, "Mido said we gotta go to undercoverology class, unless we wanna get into trouble." Leo raises an eyebrow at that. Since when has this blondie worried about trouble? "Gotta attend at least once in a while or the teachers get pissy. Less trouble going now than getting bitched at every day." Yeah, uh huh. He'll pass.

But wait. You know he doesn't go to class. If you looked for him to talk about- ugh, you'd search in Vagastrom, not the campus! "Okay! I'll just change real quick!" Sho looks confused. "Wait, really? The fuck?" And he slams the door to avoid having to explain himself. Leo's luck is turning back! Even if you go to class instead of being dragged around to help others, you have herbology, which is on the other side of the campus. It'll be easy peasy lemon squeezy to avoid you!

˙⟡

Is Sho hallucinating or was that your hoodie? It's pretty recognizable- also, those clothes were not something Leo wears like, ever? What the hell happened yesterday? He knows you and Leo went to some mall for a mission, but Leo didn't come back to the dorm in the evening. Maybe he showed up late? But- you know what, he'll be better off not caring. He stretches to shake off boredom, and hopes it won't become his problem.

10:45 am

So fucking boooooooriiiiiing. He takes back the idea of it being easy to avoid you. It's actually difficult difficult lemon difficult, but it's preferable torture to being forced to talk about that. It's was just too easy to play house, especially when there's a specific kind of torture he wants from you. Snort. A glance to the side reveals Sho is just about to fall asleep, eyes blinking one at a time. Leo's eyes fall on the still cold water bottle, and if anyone would've seen the look on his face, they would've made a swift exit to avoid getting involved. He takes the bottle, and uses it to slowly move aside the hair covering the about-to-be-victim's neck.

All of the class whips around to look at Sho flailing like a ragdoll, after hearing the man make a sound not unlike a dying seagull.

"WHAT THE FUCK???" As soon as he came back to his senses, Sho shot a glare that definitely cursed at least 20 of Leo's ancestors. "Haizono, Kurosagi, what-" And the bell rings, interrupting the geezer before he could say anything further. Leo shoves his phone in the pocket of your stolen hoodie, which is worn under the uniform blazer as quiet laughter still shakes his chest. "Keep sharp, Haizono!" He uses the mocking tone of the teacher to make a jab at Sho, who grabs the water bottle in vengeance. "Oh you're not running, stupid bi-"

˙⟡

He didn't get his revenge. The blond is still smoldering in petty indignation as Leo arranges his ashen hair back to perfect dishevelment, after the thrilling chase. "Still mad? Sucks to suck, Sho." It's so funny to see him seethe. "Uh huh. Sucks that you'll have sand in your bed by evening, dickhead." It's an attempt to sound mad, but there's a clear amusement lacing the words. Whether or not he'll actually go through with the threat? Hell no. He's pretty sure he still sees Sho shimmer on sunny days after dumping glitter in his pillow case four months ago. "Hah. We should go to the beach though, I heard of this spot-"

And the comfort of distraction is ripped away along with the rest of that sentence. "Huh? What-" A hand shuts his best friend up, as someone passes by the bathrooms. "As I was saying-" He can tell you're talking to Ishibashi from the formal language. You don't usually use that tone, but his best guess is that you only use it with freaks like that. Tri-vision, discount mad scientist, Lucci, and probably Ice Queen, but that's only speculation because of the guy's 'sophisticated' cave dweller tendencies. Scoff, sophisticated his ass. Dude doesn't leave his room, and keeps shooting you booty calls under the guise of seeing you as a servant. Leo bets that albino rat has a tailored maid costume hidden there, specifically made for you. Freak.

"Haxs." You're already at the end of the hallway, talking about schedules or whatever boring stuff that includes having to account for being on time to meetings. Lick. He snatches his hand back from the smirking traitor's mouth. "Ew, what the fuck?" He wipes the spit on the offender's blazer. "What's up with you and her?" Ugh, the crossed arms show that the himbo's attitude has already infected him. "Nothing. Unless you want glitter in your bed again, shut up." The threat works, but a look of slight disappointment stings Leo. "If you did something stupid, I won't help you. Anyway, I gotta go prepare for lunch hour. Have fun with whatever you're up to."

11:02 am

Dickhead. Food truck that, food truck this. And jumping to conclusions like that? He should jump off a- nah. He's better than that. At least with Sho, that is. Anyone else? Fuck 'em.

It's not lunch time yet… Should he go to the campus store, or the cafeteria? Nah, the hall is always crowded and noisy. And since he's avoiding you, he'd sit alone anyway as Sho's always busy. The only other person he'd even entertain the idea of sitting with would be Lucci, but he doesn't even look the cafeteria's way. So, campus store it is. You always go to the food truck when you're not busy with missions or whatever, and then eat it with either dumb and dumber in the cafeteria or with that green tea bitch and dogboy on the balcony, with Leo often invading the spot next to you. He should also pick up something for this acid reflux that keeps coming back. Leo feels bad for your braincells, they've experienced great and tragic loss in your time spent with those idiots. Deep breath. The scent of your shampoo still lingers on the fabric of the hood. He can feel his muscles relaxing.

˙⟡

Strawberry? Nah, tastes too artificial.

Sho's nice, reliable, and goes along with his moods. But he doesn't know shit about Leo.

Sour apple? Nah, not even close to sour.

Never takes anything Leo says seriously. Doesn't even really get mad when he does something stupid, pissed? Yeah, but not mad. It won't get brought up later. Forgotten, and automatically forgiven.

Mango? Maybe, if there are no other options.

But when nothing's taken seriously, things start to get uncomfortable. Feelings start stagnating like an abandoned pool. Old insults fester like a putrified wound. New arguments feel better than that.

Cherry? He's only tried it a few times, but it's already his favorite.

Leo keeps pissing you off on purpose. He makes a backhanded comment? You return it. Extra chili snuck into your food? Salt in his lunch. Equal annoyance is given and received. Conflict is resolved right then and there, even if you have to pull his teeth for it. Arguments are settled in their own difficult way, but that's more carthartic than never talking about it. Maybe some things get joked about later, but not with resentment.

Yeah, cherry soda and chili tuna onigiri sounds good. He grabs the bottle, balancing it with the food container and acid reflux tablets. Oh, that guy. The first year from Jabberwock, the one you visit the diner for? He's pretty tall… do you like that? Leo's pretty short, after all- but it's adorable, right? Tall guys are just inconvenient, can't fit in showers, or even a bathtub, or an airplane, or- yap yap yap, doesn't fucking matter.

He fucked up. Leo did kinda know the pollen wore off, before even an hour passed. But it was just so easy to stay in that groove of doting and clinging! Yes, you didn't entertain certain things, but you didn't make him go back to Vagastrom either. You could've called Sho or Mido, but didn't! That means something. You let him stay! You have a high tolerance for whining, so therefore, Leo's not making this shit up. You like him at least a bit, just enough for him to sink his claws into and not let go.

Oh yeah. He can salvage this situation. Not all hope is lost for sappy date nights and steamy makeouts, or that already fully planned wedding, with a month long honeymoon to Italy.

˙⟡

Ren is so over this. Why the fuck is that influencer guy smiling like that? He could literally feel the death stare drilling into his skull just seconds ago?? What the fuck why is he giggling like a fucking haunted doll??? Hurry up cashier man, he's gotta escape NOW. PLEASE.

11:33 am

The onigiri wasn't quite as hot as he had hoped it would be, but became edible enough with the help of his trusty spice bottle. The remaining cherry soda washes away the last grains of rice stuck in his teeth. It's a sweet flavor, but sour enough to not get sick of it anytime soon. Or ever, it's really good. Maybe he could get a sponsorship from the company? Worth a try, at least.

'Thank you for your order! Purchase confirmation will be sent to your e-mail.' Mhm, first step, check. Some Mortkranken students pass by, and one of them flinches at the sight of Leo like a timid deer hearing a twig snap. Leo sends the most saccharine smile he's got, and the NPC pales at the gesture. Hoho, he'll send that request this evening. Dude didn't think he'd get away with that shit, did he? Dumbass.

˙⟡

Pretty much only shy people sit alone at lunch in this portion Darkwick. Leo's not shy by any stretch, and neither are you, really. You were for a while, when he first met you. It's a part of getting cursed and thrown in the middle of a 50/50 deadly or just bitchy battle royale in under 24 hours, though. Starting out without a spine like a worm, but eventually turning into a beetle, instead of a fragile butterfly. Sure, pretty damn easy to kill as far as anomalies are involved, but not completely defenseless against fellow humans or insults.

On your first meeting, you barely looked Leo in the eye. Nothing really remarkable, even easy to target for entertainment, if it weren't for you already gaining the favor of both the Frostheim ghouls and himbo in a few weeks time. Pretty impressive, honestly, and even more impressive that you didn't just give up and die after getting almost dropped to your death by that tulpa.

You could've died back there. That could've been your final day, and it would've been Leo's fault. In that timeline, where you died, Leo wouldn't even feel bad for it, would he? Maybe it would've been an inconvenience, a severe scolding from Cap and some detention from Darkwick staff, but no real remorse for it, huh? Maybe he'd even rag on Sho for having a useless stigma, or something, but already forgetting your name after a month. Would his friendship with Sho have stayed strong, or get eroded by time and new circumstances, like now?

But that timeline isn't this one. You didn't die, you survived, and grew even stronger. You started making direct eye contact, then standing up for your friends with conviction of steel, and by now, started going on duo missions with Leo, with only minimal complaining out of habit. Leo hates change, but that personality flip was more than welcomed. Finally, a real friend that calls out his bullshit, and doesn't talk behind his back! Everyone knows him as a popular influencer, and a smaller group knows he's a toxic cunt, but only you consistently defend him. Not when people justifiably complain about getting blackmailed or insulted, but when someone thinks he's just an airheaded baby bitch who can't fight. Yeah, Sho defends him too, but noticeably less. When he does, he's either looking for a fight, or just plain doesn't like that person. And sure, Leo can handle it, but fuck does it feel better when someone stands up for him. After all, there's only two people in his life he can talk to without worrying about getting backstabbed or ignored. It's the reason he's sitting alone right now, as well.

This plan has to work. He chews on a well manicured nail, and tastes the bitterness of clear polish. It has to, or he'll go off the rails like sharktooth Chucky from Sinostra. He'll eat Bonnie first, out of spite.

1:42 pm

"Hmmm… that sounds delicious as well, so it's quite difficult to choose. What do you recommend?" Mr Beans On Toast and Mr Beans For Brains are standing right in the hallway where his class is. Fuck. The chances of you showing up just just shot up like 800%. Why the hell are they here anyway? You and the two professional dickriders have artifact studies next, not enigmatology! "Uhh, well, I usually go for the shoyu chicken. You should ask her too, since I don't eat in ramen restaurants that much." They're talking about you now. Leo knows, because no other person that has a pussy talks to Fuji, or gets within a 10 meter radius of the dude out of anything but obligation or accident. He sends a final look around the corner. You're going out with them today? Have you already told them about yesterday and this morning? Shitfuck, he can't risk being seen by them, they'll definitely snitch on the spot if you ask. Fuck it. Leo's been a teacher's pet enough for the day, he can go back to his dorm already.

"Kaito." That tone sends a shiver down his spine, even if it's not his own name you're saying. Wait, you're here? He has to haul ass, now. "Remedial class? Again? I told you to study more." Fuck, that should be him! Fuji clearly doesn't appreciate the privilege of getting scolded by you, if the whiny excuses are anything to go off of. If he was the one getting told off, he'd piss you off even more. So much so, that you'd have no choice but to bend him over and spank him for every minute of class missed… these pants feel uncomfortable. At least your hoodie covers it up.

˙⟡

Leo's already outside, leisurely strolling towards Vagastrom, when his phone buzzes.

Sho: yo leo

Sho: (y/n) asked if ur alright

Sho: i said yea

Leo: ok

Sho: u need to tell me what happened bro

Leo: no im not telling shit its nothing

Leo: and stay out of it. i have 5 bags of glitter on hand. dont even try.

Sho: ok damn

Yeah, don't even try. Leo can't have anyone intervening on this delicate situation right now, especially not him or Cap. No one else either, or he'll break the record of a 3 day streak of not doxxing anyone as retaliation. He shoves the phone back in the hoodie's pocket, and hustles even faster as an ominous, but a bit too familiar cackle of a certain redheaded gambler rings out. Not today, Satan.

7:58 pm

Aaand posted! His muscles relax in relief as the screen of the sticker-covered laptop turns black, freeing Leo from the filming and editing process of a new video. A slight moan escapes, as he stretches out on the queensize bed like a cat. Damn, I'm a hard worker. He takes a moment to shut his eyes, to find some relief from the slight burning caused by being continuously flashbanged by bluelight. At least that's over, and now he can doomscroll as a treat! Let's see… Ugh, his algorithm is fucked up. Seeing all the wedding and family influencers right now isn't salt in his wounds, but the whole fucking spice cabinet. Ooh, a bouquet like that though? He saves it, before switching to another burner account. You know, the one where he follows everything your friends post about you? Yeah, that one! Nothing's really been posted though… Hotarubi's vice captain had an iced matcha latte, yada yada, oh. Fuji's post. Now, Leo is painfully aware that the romantic relationship with you that he posts on social media is fake. Leo himself specifically told you to not think anything of it, even if he changed his mind by now. Every picture of you two holding hands, or going on cutesy cafe dates was for content. But come on. This definitely feels like cheating! He glares poison daggers at the digital picture of you and the two idiots, sitting side by side, holding overstuffed ice cream cones. And he recognizes the logo imprinted on the waffles. Because it's from a popular date spot. Where he wants to take you.

Does that mushroom-headed little bitch think Leo is a cuck? That he'll stand by as these dickheads make moves on you? Fuck no. Time needs to move a whole lot faster right now, he thinks, as the burning feeling of jealousy itches under his skin, like the marching of a million fire ants. Anticipation of getting to fulfill his plan starts to physically hurt, and it's as though he's possessed, with every position taken feeling uncomfortable, when the thought of you with anyone else takes over. Ragged breaths shake his ribs, as he swallows and focuses on the faint cracks of the ceiling.

A shuddering breath calms him down slightly. Soon. As soon as you're his real girlfriend, life will be perfect, and this suffering will be worthy of that. He can cling onto you like a boa, and not let go, ever. He can put trackers on you. No onewill take you away, and he'll get his happy ending no matter what. Each day starts in bed next to you, and ends the same way. Taking baths together, shopping for groceries, going out for dates. No second will be spent apart, he daydreams, as his thighs start to rub together. Mhm, you'd come home from work on weekdays, and get greeted by Leo and two children. Your children, because he'll knock you up as soon as possible. Even before the wedding, as his hand ghosts over the front of his pajama pants, you'd be tied down even without a ring. A satisfied sigh is conjured when his hips are no longer covered by fabric. A moan, when his hand finally wraps itself around the flushed shaft. Each year, you'd have two vacations, as the first stroke rips out a gasp. One with the whole family, and the other? Just you two, a squeeze to the weeping tip. A whole two weeks, consisting of eating good food, taking photos, and sensual fucking in whatever destination you'd landed in. He doesn't even need lube right now, with the amount of precum his fantasies provoke. Each snippet of delusion is accompanied by a slapping sound, and the fire of jealousy is replaced by an intense heat in his lower stomach.

A white light and ringing noise fills his senses, as a burst of cum shoots out to stain his shirt with a long, high-pitched moan. Or rather, your shirt that he was wearing before running off. Ugh, it's all over him, from hips, to stomach, to his hand. Sigh. He needs to calm down at least a bit. You're not really interested in anyone, he grits his teeth, which unfortunately includes himself.

You probably wouldn't like it if he babytrapped you. In fact, you might hate him for even attempting, and leave him. Which, clearly, wouldn't be ideal. He'll just propose after a year, and then marry you right after graduation. Wedding night though? A devious grin breaks his afterglow serenity. It's free real estate.

10:03 pm

Leo: have it ready by tomorrow, before 1 pm. any later? those posts will guarantee getting blacklisted from every school and workplace imaginable. do you understand?

Mortkranken Creep: Understood

Man, this blackmail shit is easy. Leo can practically hear the guy shaking in his cheap sneakers, even over text. He spits out a wad of minty froth in the sink, and grins at the mirror to see his teeth shine. Perfect! The lights of the bathroom are off with a click, and he practically skips over to his bed. His meticulous skincare routine is done, and he even used a special face mask in preparation for tomorrow. All that's left to do is sleep well, fetch his extra fast delivery packet in the morning, and visit that gooner schmuck in the noon. Then? His plan is as good as accomplished, and he'll be wearing a cute apron and tight leggings in four years time. For now, Leo cozies up in the Egyptian cotton-covered duvets, and breathes in the scent of your shampoo that still lingers in the hoodie he's wearing. He can't wait for tomorrow.

9:16 am

Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. Where the fuck is that packet? Leo is currently shaking like a cocaine-addicted chihuahua, pacing near the mail building. If the definition of insanity is repeating an action, expecting the end result to change, Leo needs to be locked up in a mental ward. For other reasons as well, but whatever. The kimchi in his sandwich crunches with an unnecessarily aggressive bite. You sent a text this morning, asking if he's alright. Leo had to chew on his pillow to not giggle like a maniac, though Alan still looked at him weird when they crossed paths in the common area. But that doesn't matter in any capacity, as the notification of 'Your packet has arrived! Please pick it up as soon as possible!' appears with another refresh. The piece of sandwich still in his mouth almost chokes him, as Leo almost lets out a villainous laugh.

Just before rounding the corner, he freezes. Fuck fuck fucking fuck, you and carrot top are right in front of the mail building! Another cautious peek. Whatever that guy said cannot be that funny. Obnoxious fucker, leave already! This is so unfair.

˙⟡

Leo starts manifesting a painful death on Haru, who just wanted to tell (y/n) about the new hats he bought for Peekaboo. "Come visit soon, and you'll see how cool they are! One's a bucket hat, and the other is an orange crocheted wig! We'll really look like father and son, right? Gyahahah!" And he waves the honor student goodbye, gleefully wishing luck on her exam next week, before entering the mail building.

While waiting for his packet to be found in the back, the usually stuffy and honestly quite hot temperature inside drops to a spine-chilling freeze. Haru turns to sneak a subtle look at the person who just entered. Kurosagi seems pretty harmless, but currently? He gulps, and prays the Vagastrom first year would blink. A thick layer of sweat appears, and Haru prays for the mail cats to work faster. That stare has him scared for his life.

12:59 pm

Target located. The Mortkranken student, who had the unfortunate luck of gaining attention from Leo, is shuffling nervously on a park bench. Getting closer… "Boo!" The dude doesn't even scream, but jumps up like a prisoner in an electric chair at the feeling of two hands slapping down on his shoulders. Leo can't help but snicker at the sight of the student gasping for air. "Wha- what." Trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, the student turns to Leo. "K-K-Kurosagi, you-" "Oh, quit the stuttering. D-d-do you have what I need or not? I'm not here to talk about the weather." He's a busy man, can't you see? Probably not, with those overgrown, greasy bangs. Tch. This loser's a certified creep. He used the anonymous confessions board to post a degenerate fantasy about stealing your clothes and marrying you, as if he had any chance. Pathetic.

"Yeah. Here. It's, uh, supposed to last for 4 hours, with one-" Leo snatches up the small pouch, causing the guy to flinch back. "Uh huh. If it doesn't work, or causes any weird side effects, everyone on campus will know you jack off to the honor student daily. Have a nice life!" The ashen haired man skips off with a saccharine mockery of a goodbye, and starts to head on over to the cathedral. It's Friday, and it'll be a very long weekend.

#tkdb #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #leo kurosagi #leo kurosagi x reader

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whizzing-fizzbee · 3 days ago

Text

Laundry Day

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

Rating: Explicit/MDNI; all characters are adults Words: ~3,300 Tags: MDNI, smut, light dom/sub, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, third person POV

Summary: Sebastian Sallow's clothing continues to disappear from the laundry and he can't figure out why. Once he discovers the truth, he gets repayment for his missing wardrobe. A brief continuation of Death By A Thousand Freckles.

Notes: This is just a quick little random nonsense sequel to Death By A Thousand Freckles, though you don't necessarily need to read that first. Nothing too out of the ordinary, and now I'll return to writing inbox requests. ❤️

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Sebastian Sallow could have sworn he’d sent three green sweaters to be laundered that week. It was one of the many perks of being a Hogwarts student. The school house elves did the laundry twice per week, magically whisking away all the clothing and returning it clean and neatly pressed.

But only two green sweaters were returned to Sebastian today. He frowned as he dug through his trunk in search of the third. Perhaps the house elves had lost it, though he’d never heard of such a thing happening. The house elves were meticulous and organized, but Sebastian decided it would be quite easy to mix up the students’ uniforms. It wasn’t like Sebastian was the only seventh year who wore Slytherin sweaters. Still, it struck him as odd that various items of his wardrobe were vanishing without a trace.

It started with his house scarf. It went missing at the start of the spring term, but Sebastian assumed another student had mistakenly picked it up.

But then his button-down uniform shirts started to disappear. He wasn’t particularly fond of those, but he needed them for classes. But every other Slytherin owned the same shirts, so perhaps there’d been another mix-up.

It wasn’t until his quidditch jersey went missing that Sebastian became aggravated. He began to suspect that one of his roommates was playing a prank on him.

“Have you seen my laundry?” he asked Ominis Gaunt one morning.

Ominis scowled at him. “I don’t see much of anything,” he answered smoothly. Sebastian sighed.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “What I meant was, has any of my clothing wound up with yours?”

“Can’t say it has,” Ominis responded.

“Well, has any of your laundry turned up missing?”

“Can’t say it has.”

Sebastian groaned, but decided to let the matter drop. But one by one, piece by piece, more of his clothing items disappeared; so much so, Sebastian had to make a trip into Hogsmeade to buy more. But whenever he brought the matter up to his friends and roommates, they all shrugged and insisted they hadn’t taken anything.

It was maddening. Sebastian began to wonder if he was losing his mind.

One day, he decided to wait on the house elf in charge of his laundry. Sebastian lounged impatiently in his room until the unsuspecting elf wandered in.

“There you are!” Sebastian exclaimed, causing the poor elf to squawk in surprise. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Mister Sallow,” the elf said as it bowed to him. “Pebbles is just here to fetch the laundry.”

“Thank you, Pebbles,” Sebastian said kindly. “But I was wondering if you’d seen some items of mine. I’ve lost quite a few articles of clothing and they always seem to go missing on laundry day.”

Pebbles’ eyes grew wide. The tiny elf shrank backward toward the door in a panic, causing Sebastian to narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“Pebbles,” he said as gently as possible. “What do you know?”

“Pebbles can’t say!” the elf squeaked. “Pebbles promised the nice girl. She made him swear.”

“Nice girl?”

“Yes, Mister Sallow. The nice seventh year… also in Slytherin… always kind to Pebbles and always has bubblegum. She swore Pebbles to secrecy.”

Bubblegum. Of course.

Sebastian rocketed himself off the bed and scrambled for the door. “Thank you, Pebbles!” he called over his shoulder as he hustled into the corridor, leaving the poor elf flustered.

Sebastian made a beeline toward the girls’ dormitories, where he knocked on the second door on the right.

“Open up!” he called out. The door swung open and he was met by a scowling Imelda Reyes.

“She’s not here, Sallow,” Imelda huffed. “And if you barge your way in here again, I’m going to hex you all the way to Clagmar.”

Sebastian sighed. “Sorry,” he said as he backed away from the door. “Do you know where she is?”

“Try the library,” Imelda shrugged as she eyed him sharply. “And try doing your laundry for once. You wore that shirt yesterday.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and left for the library.

As soon as he strode between the row of long study tables, he spotted her. His girlfriend, Emilia, sat quietly as she flipped through her Muggle Studies book. And she was wearing a green sweater that appeared to be two sizes too large for her.

Sebastian sat down across from her, the scrape of his chair grating loudly across the wood floor. Emilia winced as her head snapped up.

“Sebastian! Where’ve you been? You missed breakfast.”

“I didn’t have anything to wear,” Sebastian replied simply. He could swear he saw the traces of a smile tugging at the corner of Emilia’s lips.

“Oh?” she asked innocently. “Did the house elves forget to do your laundry?”

“That’s what I was trying to figure out. I had to ask Pebbles.”

Emilia pursed her lips to suppress a smile. Sebastian could see the muscles in her face twitch. “Oh?” she continued. “Is Pebbles the laundry elf?”

“You tell me.”

Emilia cocked her head to the side playfully. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Sebastian’s eyes fell pointedly to her chest. “Let me guess,” he said. “You’re also not sure how you ended up wearing my sweater.”

“Oh, is this yours?” Emilia asked innocently. She dipped her head to study the fabric. “I had no idea.”

Sebastian gazed at her in exasperation. “Come on, Em,” he sighed. “Fess up.”

Emilia finally flashed a full smile, rendering it impossible for Sebastian to remain cross with her. “Okay,” she laughed. “So maybe I borrowed a few of your shirts and sweaters with Pebbles’ help.”

“A few? Em, I barely have any clothes left.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She was looking far too amused for Sebastian’s liking. Not the least bit remorseful.

“So are you going to give me my clothes back?”

“I will in due time,” Emilia answered casually. “But right now, I need to finish studying.”

Sebastian blinked at her. She loved to get under his skin; not that he minded, but he was also running out of clothing to wear.

“Alright fine,” Sebastian said as he rose to his feet. He leaned across the table to press a kiss to her cheek and smiled innocently at her. “See you at dinner, darling.”

As Emilia returned to her reading, she failed to notice that Sebastian didn’t actually leave the library. Instead, he slipped up the spiral staircase to the second floor, where he peered down at her from the railing overheard.

“Retexo,” he whispered as he pointed his wand at Emilia. A magic, invisible thread connected the tip of his wand to her. He could feel a faint tug, ensuring the spell had worked. Now, he just had to stand back and wait.

He watched Emilia study for another twenty minutes or so. He admired the way her eyes scanned the pages of her book, her lips mumbling the prose quietly to herself. Light from the library windows poured over her frame, her dark brunette hair glimmering with just the right movement of her head.

He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to call her his girlfriend. But ever since that day in the quidditch locker room showers, they’d discovered a new level of affinity that left them more attached than ever.

But for as much as Sebastian loved and cherished Emilia, he’d be damned before he let her off the hook for petty theft.

So when Emilia rose to her feet and gathered her books, Sebastian smirked. He watched as she pushed her chair into the table and turned for the library doors.

She didn’t notice at first. With each step further from where Sebastian stood with his wand, her sweater began to unravel from the hem upward, pulling and pulling until her midriff was showing.

Sebastian used his wand to give a sharp tug, straining the emerald thread harder. Emilia was halfway to the door when she finally realized half her sweater was missing. She gasped as she stopped in her tracks to examine herself, a nervous flush creeping over her cheeks. Other students looked on in amusement, a few giggles echoing across the library.

Emilia’s eyes followed the thread across the library and upward until she met Sebastian’s laughing gaze above. He winked at her and flicked his wand. The thread tugged again, revealing even more of Emilia’s torso.

“Sebastian!” she hissed loudly, drawing more snickers from the students seated nearby.

Sebastian doubled over in silent hysterics as tears of laughter filled his eyes. Hurried whispers rolled over the room, indicating that Madam Scribner was coming.

Emilia frantically fished her wand from her bag. “Diffindo!” she hissed. The long thread severed, leaving it dangling from the tip of Sebastian’s wand. He flicked it casually to disconnect it, the green strand fluttering to the floor as Emilia made a rude gesture with her hand toward him before attempting to storm out.

“Miss Bell!” Scribner’s voice was short and shrill, an indication she was particularly agitated. Emilia heaved a sigh and stopped in her tracks, waiting for the librarian to scold her. “Miss Bell, what is the meaning of this? What happened to your jumper?”

“Sorry, Madam Scribner,” Emilia said with as much sincerity – and dignity – as she could manage. “I guess a loose thread must have snagged on my chair.”

“Loose thread? My dear, there are barely any threads left! You’re showing a dangerous amount of skin and causing quite a distraction. Do cover yourself up and sort out your… wardrobe malfunction immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Emilia shot Sebastian a scathing glare. He chuckled and hurried from the library before Madam Scribner could catch on to his antics. He could see Emilia’s retreating form across the Central Hall. She was heading toward the nearest girls’ bathroom.

Before he could catch up to her, she disappeared inside. Sebastian stood just outside the door, waiting patiently as he leaned against the wall nonchalantly.

Suddenly, the door swung open and a pair of hands seized the front of his robes, dragging him inside.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian cried out. His eyes widened as he realized Emilia was standing completely topless and bare in front of him. The sweater – or what remained of it – was tossed atop a sink.

“Give me your cloak,” Emilia ordered.

“What? No! You’ve already nicked enough of my clothing!”

“And you ruined my sweater!”

“Your sweater? Don’t be so dramatic, darling. Just Reparo it and get on with it.”

Emilia shot him a deadpan stare and pointed her wand toward the sweater. “Reparo,” she said blankly. Nothing happened. Sebastian cursed. “It’s beyond repair.”

“Yes, I see that now,” Sebastian sighed.

“So give me your cloak,” Emilia repeated. “Unless you want me parading topless all the way back to the common room.”

Something stirred within Sebastian. He smirked with his arms folded across his chest.

“And you think I’m just going to hand over another article of clothing, after everything you’ve taken from me?” he mused.

Emilia blinked. “Seb, this is an emergency! Quit playing games.”

“Oh? And what about when I had to make an emergency trip to Gladrag’s because I ran out of shirts to wear?”

“That’s different!”

“The hell it is.” The wheels spun in Sebastian’s head at breakneck speed, hurtling them both toward something much more salacious than some stolen garments. This was too perfect of an opportunity to squander. Of course, he’d ultimately give Emilia his cloak, but she’d have to earn it. After all, it was no secret he liked it when people were indebted to him, even his own girlfriend – especially his own girlfriend.

“You can have my cloak,” he purred. “If you give me something in return.”

He didn’t need to elaborate. Emilia fully understood his implications, because she understood Sebastian. She thought how he thought, spoke as he spoke, and behaved as he behaved. Most people found it endearing. Ominis called it alarming.

This was their game; their own intimate way of passing the time; their favorite cat-and-mouse dynamic for keeping the other on their toes.

“Really, Seb?” Emilia groaned. “Here? In the blasted bathroom of all places?”

“Why not?” Sebastian murmured, reaching to snake his arms around her waist. “After all, you’re already half undressed.”

He leaned in to press a kiss just below her earlobe. Emilia’s resistance waned entirely.

“Fine,” she sniffed, her fists balling the front of Sebastian’s cloak. She tugged him into a forceful kiss, the tattered remains of the sweater forgotten as a familiar ache sprawled between her thighs. Sebastian's cloak crumpled to the tile floor.

Sebastian smirked into the kiss, one hand drifting from her waist upward to her breast. The chill inside the bathroom went forgotten as his warm palm cupped her, his thumb gently teasing across her nipple.

“What’d you steal all my clothes for anyway?” Sebastian murmured gently as his eyes scanned her body.

“Because they smell like you. And I like to be reminded of you,” Emilia answered simply.

“Darling, you see me every day.”

“I know, but I like to think of you even when you’re not around.”

Sebastian smirked. “I’ll give you something to think about for days, weeks even,” he breathed in her ear. “Something much more satisfying than some ratty old sweater.”

He kissed her until she was spineless in his arms, guiding her backward until the cool porcelain sink pressed against her lower back.

“But I like those sweaters,” Emilia protested.

“And my uniform shirts? And my favorite scarf?”

“Sharing is caring.”

“And what are you going to share?”

Emilia smirked in response. She rocked onto her tip-toes to kiss him again, her tongue dragging against his bottom lip with deliberation. Though she knew Sebastian wasn’t actually cross with her for stealing half of his wardrobe – he’d give her anything she wanted – she figured it would be fair to provide him with some repayment, especially when the investment would serve them both.

Emilia’s hands found Sebastian’s belt buckle, though her twinkling eyes remained on his. She could undress him with her eyes shut by now – and she certainly had before. The buckle clinked apart and a swoosh of fabric and hungry hands left Sebastian bare below the waist. He was already hard.

The moment Emilia’s hand gripped his erection, Sebastian groaned. His head dipped backward and his eyes fell shut as she stroked him, her soft thumb swiping across his tip. Her hand pumped faster until Sebastian was panting, his abdomen tight with a cresting release.

Hands suddenly spun Emilia around so that she was pinned forward against the sink, her wide eyes peering at her own surprised reflection in the mirror. Her skirt was hiked up and her panties were pulled to the side as Sebastian’s fingers snaked over her folds. He hummed at her wet arousal.

Emilia held her breath, anticipating the intrusion of Sebastian’s cock. Instead, he sank two fingers inside her, his other arm hooked around her waist as his own reflection smirked at hers.

“You love this, don’t you?” he murmured as he watched her teeth drag against her own bottom lip. She whimpered in response, her walls clenching around his fingers in a silent plea for more friction. Sebastian curled his fingers and pumped his hand.

Emilia moaned as Sebastian’s free hand drifted to her breast, plucking at her nipple as the fingers of his other hand continued their rhythmic pressure. They paused only to press against her clit, sweeping long, fluid swipes until Emilia could feel the muscles tense from her core to her thighs.

Her white knuckles matched the porcelain as she gripped the sides of the sink, the mounting climax ready to breach its dam. Sebastian’s erection pressed against her ass as he held her close, ready to feel her entire body quiver against his. When it finally began, Emilia’s cry rang across the bathroom while Sebastian’s fingers scraped a searing sensation from her clit. She doubled over the sink, her knees threatening to fail until the shiver subsided.

“Merlin, you look so stunning when you come,” Sebastian croaked. He lined his impatient cock against Emilia’s slick entrance and sank inside before she could catch her breath. “Fucking hell,” he sighed with content.

Emilia’s back arched and her eyelids fluttered shut as she moaned, her walls stretching to welcome Sebastian’s cock. His hips snapped forward until he set his preferred pace, burying himself to the hilt until he retreated to repeat the motion. When his stare searched for Emilia’s in the mirror, he sank his fingers into her open mouth, eliciting an unsuspecting gasp.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch me fuck you.” It wasn’t an ask. Emilia nodded silently, her obedient eyes locked on his as Sebastian’s slick fingers continued to part her lips.

He fiddled with the knot in his necktie, his hips still rocking against her until the green fabric was loose in his hands.

"Give me your hands," he ordered, reaching for Emilia's wrists. "You like wearing my clothes, huh?" he said as he tied them behind her back. He thrust hard, drawing a breathy moan from her.

Sebastian groaned at the vision before him; Emilia looking so submissive and seductive, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy, her features contorting the closer she reached toward her climax; and there he stood, looming behind her as she whimpered and whined while he ruined her. The mirror and its frame became a portrait; a masterpiece that could only be named Sin Incarnate.

Sebastian reached for her throat and Emilia swallowed, sending a fleeting pulse across the curve between his thumb and forefinger. Her gaze narrowed as she struggled for composure, her weak legs ready to quit as he plunged into her plush folds.

The vibrations from Emilia’s gurgled moans coursed across Sebastian’s hand until he was grunting with glee.

“Just like that,” his voice rumbled against her ear. He gave her neck a gentle squeeze and could feel her body respond, her cunt clenching in arousal around his cock. His pistoning hips became erratic, indicating his impending undoing. But as the sounds of the sharp snaps of their union bounced off the tiled walls, Emilia’s eyes lingered on their forms.

“You like watching yourself?” Sebastian observed. “You like seeing how good I fuck you?”

He rolled his hips and drove himself hard through her walls. Emilia’s bottom lip was raw and red, but her teeth continued to gnaw as she inched closer to her edge. Sebastian’s bedroom eyes studied her reflection until he could see the familiar expression creeping across her features.

“Going to come for me? Go on, then. Let’s both watch you give in. Then I'm going to come in you and you're going to wear me."

His cock speared her until the tip drove into her sensitive spot. Emilia’s mouth fell open and her back arched, a primal cry chorusing across the bathroom as her body obeyed. Sebastian thrust so hard, her feet nearly lifted off the floor, her pulsing walls coaxing his own completion.

His hips pinned Emilia hard against the sink as he spilled inside her, her tired legs struggling to keep her upright as her thighs became slick. Sebastian’s frame slackened when his peak subsided, his chin resting atop her shoulder as they both recovered.

The bathroom returned to its still state, the only sound now the occasional creaking of pipes.

Sebastian pressed a final kiss to the back of Emilia’s shoulder, his eyes still smirking at her reflection as he loosed his necktie from her wrists.

“Now, about my sweaters… and shirts… and scarf,” he started as he backed away to redress. “You’re going to return them, right?”

Emilia’s reflection pouted at him. “Don’t you think I earned them?”

Sebastian didn’t answer until he was fully clothed, stooping down to pick up Emilia’s skirt and undergarments. When she reached for them, he pulled them away and flashed his teeth.

“Tell you what,” he drawled. “I’ll keep these for now and I’ll give you my cloak. You wear that – and only that – for the rest of the day, and we’ll call it even.”

He winked at her and darted from the bathroom.

#sebastian sallow x oc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #whizzing fizzbee fanfic

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sunkissed-yuan · 2 days ago

Note

WRITE FOR ANAXA WHO USES HIS GUN IN THE MOST UNCONVENTIONAL WAYS

Hana: ... How about he picked up fruits with it? Btw listening to igloo by kiss of life while writing this- it suits him so much- not very canon scenary cause I barely made it through okhema

Warning: petite short reader implied! ZERO CHARACTER STUDY! OOC MAYBE!! Reader implied to have a little cafe at the grove

The day was so far warm and soothing. That's what you thought.. After dealing with phainon and mydei's squabbles and solving them maybe you can finally have a peace of mind?..

You walked as far as your tired legs took you.. You ended up sitting near a tree.. A tree with your favorite fruit!! (Mango, apple or orange,trust) now you really want that. But how?! As far you're concerned you're shorter than the tree! Maybe that's exaggerated.. Everyone is shorter than the tree.. Maybe not phainon and mydei.. The two are giraffes.. You didn't even reach the height of anaxagoras. How disappointing that your own genes disappointed you.. (I feel like it's a pun smh, not intended tho)

"Are you finally respecting the rule that silence is golden? You've been quietly thinking to yourself for the past 30 minutes"

Oh it had to be him.. The foolish scholar anaxagoras who comes to your humble little space and criticise you on a daily basis that it's almost harassment.. Not that you'd actually say it actually is. He's a good friend of yours- wait!

"Can you get me that fruit?"

That's should've been where you kept your mouth shut..

"Hah.. Now asking me for a favor? What do I get in return?"

Oh how you wanted to slap the smug smile off his face-

"Anything from my humble space free of price for each fruit"

"Fine.. How many can you eat? Hm?"

"I- I can eat as much as I want!"

After all you are a firm believer you can eat anything given until you vomit. Oh you're going to regret this surely-

Then you heard multiple gunshots and the fruits were now at your feet. And he's blowing off the smoke from his gun with a smug smile-

"You're too smug for your own good anaxagoras"

"And you pronounced it wrong."

"Did not! "

"Did too darling"

"Shut up! I'll say your name however I want! "

"Just make sure I get my coffee and pastries."

Maybe somewhere deep in your heart you wished this banter would never end..

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥-𝘺𝘶𝘢𝘯© 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺, 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴!

#hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr anaxa #anaxa x reader #honkai star rail anaxa #anaxagoras #anaxa

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ikyoudreamofme · 2 days ago

Text

forever-Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris only likes tattoos on you.

warning- mentions of sh and mh, mostly fluff.

a/n: ive not written in a while so here you go myloves. got this idea from this bot

—————————————————————-

Chris was never interested in getting tattoos but still thought they were cool as fuck his brothers had many that he liked he just didn't think they'd suit him. He loved other people's tattoos, especially yours. Oh my god he thought they were so sexy. No matter how simple the tattoo was he loved it, always tracing his fingers across them. His favorite was your back tattoo, obviously but he loved it even more when you were in the position he could only see.

you and Chris lay on his bed Chris sighing from beside you already bored of the movie that played in the background, his attention on your arms and the ink that paints them. His fingers trace the lines of the artwork before he looks up at you, “what do they mean baby?” he mumbles looking back down at his hands on your arm. You look down smiling at him “my tattoos?” you ask, raking your fingers through his hair he hums nodding.

You smile sitting up excitedly before pointing your right wrist showing two small butterflies, their bodies made out of semicolons. “This one shows that I was able to get through the struggles of my mental health. And the angel wings,” you twist your arm showing to angel wings on either side of your wrist, they were small but detailed. “,mean there's always hope in life and kinda link with the butterflies” you look up at him, his eyes soft, following the lines of the tattoos taking them in along with their meanings.

You move up your arm showing the snake that wraps around your bicep like it was squeezing you. The detail was small and accurate. “The snake doesn't really have meaning. I just thought it was a cool idea.” you chuckle.

You show him the rest of your tattoos, two stingrays on your ribs, a spider on your hip and the birthday of your nan on your collarbone leaving one last. You straighten your arm showing a scruffy drawn heart that you had asked him to draw not that long ago, under the bend of your elbow, under the heart it read “forever” in bold letters. “...and this ones for someone I'll love forever.” you look up smiling, your arm still straightened for Chris to look at. His fingers graze over the heart, a small grin on his face. “When’d you get this” he says, his voice quieter than intended. “About two weeks ago” you state smiling at his happiness. “Is it for me?” Chris asks, now sitting up, remaining eye contact with you, his cheeks a soft pink. You hum in response, nodding. Chris, eyes light up as he leans forward basically falling onto you kissing you passionately. “I love it and I love you.so much” he says in between pecking kisses all over your face. You laugh wrapping your arms around him kissing him back, “I love you too Chris, forever”

taglist: @shadowthesim237 @courta13 @chrisspussygang

#chris sturniolo #tara yummy #fluff #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris fluff #chris x reader #frat boy chris #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris struniolo #sturniolo messages #jake webber #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #carrington #ikyoudreamofme

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cherryblossms · 13 hours ago

Text

"i like smelling like you," he spoke softly, both volume and tone. "i can smell you on me, it's comforting." garam was so confused, there were so many thoughts and emotions running through his head and heart that he wasn't sure how to feel. on one hand, he was basically on cloud-9. so happy to be spending this time with angel, feeling so loved right in this moment for such a insignificant reason. as joyed as he was, all he wanted to do was kick himself for overlooking angel, for never seeing him as an option before his confession. he was so stupid, so blind to the truth. he wanted to believe in the good that axel showed him, as rare as it seemed to happen nowadays, instead of trusting that angel was actually telling him the truth basically his entire relationship. it took something so horrendous to happen to the most important person in his life for garam to take off his blinders and see the truth. he didn't deserve angel's kindness, he didn't think he could ever be good enough for him either. what he deserved was to be shunned, to be told i told you so over and over, he hated that he wasn't being blamed for what happened by anybody else but himself. but, even though he felt incredibly guilty, he was still going to savor what angel was giving to him. as he let his arms fall down from around angel's shoulders, he inched his feet forward so his entire body was pressing against the taller man, burying his face against angel's chest. it was the only thing he could do to mask the guilt, to get himself to calm down. he really didn't want to base his feelings on the way he was treated but that's where his feelings for angel seemed to have stemmed from. and while he still felt guilty for using angel for the emotional connection he lacked, once again, he wasn't going to let that guilt control how he was going to behave. ignoring the issue was never a good choice but he didn't see himself as part of angel's solution, there was nothing he could say to make the situation better. no amount of apologies would ever be enough. "will you pick something out for me, an outfit?" he asked, still remaining close — only moving enough so he could look up to angel. "pick something you think i'd look good in and i'll find an outfit for you, too. and then we can go back there," he lifted his arm to point out to the side of them where the changing rooms were, "and we can try them on." honestly, it was just an excuse to get angel in one of those rooms, alone. "and obviously get things for yourself if you find things you like, i meant it when i said i'd get you anything you want." he knew buying somebody's forgiveness wasn't a good idea but he thought it would be a good start for making himself feel less guilty, if he could do nice things for angel to make him feel special, or appreciated, or seen.

Angel’s heart raced as he felt Garam’s warmth envelop him in a hug, his fingers gently resting at the back of his neck. The thrill of Garam’s excitement was infectious, and Angel couldn’t help but smile. It was amazing how a simple idea like matching pajamas could transform the atmosphere between them into something so light and joyful. The moment felt almost surreal, Angel now wanted it to stay this way. “Yeah, we can really get matching pajamas,” Angel replied, his voice softer than he intended, but the playful grin on his face betrayed his attempt at nonchalance. The thought of Garam snapping pictures of them in those pajamas made his stomach flutter. He could picture them sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by popcorn, maybe even binging a series on a lazy Sunday. In those moments, he could almost forget that Garam had a public persona, a life that didn’t always include him. Which he was okay with. Their friendship over the years showed him that Garam respected his need to be private. Never truly showed his face when they went out. Maybe a hand while hanging out or their shoes. However, the thought of being plastered all over Garam’s Instagram brought a tint of red to Angel’s cheeks. He’d always been a private person, preferring to keep his life under wraps rather than share every detail with the world. But with Garam, things felt different. There was an unspoken agreement that they could navigate this together—Garam’s carefulness about his public image matched Angel’s desire for privacy. It was a delicate balance, but it felt right. He also couldn’t help but feel special, Garam had never said something like that before. Show him off to his followers so they know whatever this was wasn’t going anywhere. “I mean,” Angel continued, pulling back slightly to meet Garam’s eyes, “if you’re going to share pictures, then I guess I should look my absolute best.” He winked playfully, trying to lighten the mood even further. “Let’s make sure those pajamas are top-notch. I’ve seen some really cute ones a couple of stores down. We can check it out when we are done here.” Garam’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Angel felt a surge of happiness at the thought of indulging in something so adorable and ridiculous as matching pajamas. It was silly, yes, but it also felt like a small, simple way to signal the importance of their relationship to each other. With their closeness Angel couldn’t help but wrap his arms around the man’s waist and pull him flush up against his body. “Just promise me one thing,” Angel said, a hint of seriousness creeping into his tone. “If we do this, we have to really commit. No half-hearted attempts. I want full-on matching outfits. The whole nine yards. You in?” As he spoke, he could see the gears turning in Garam’s head, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief. It was moments like this that made Angel feel like they were building something special together—an understanding, a bond that went beyond the surface. The taller man leaned down and pecked Garam’s lips. He kept it simple knowing if the kiss lingered he wouldn’t be able to control himself. They tried taking things slow and it backfired fast so he was being careful. “Besides,” Angel added with a teasing smile, “you know I’ll make sure to look good next to you. You’ll have to step up your game too.” The curly-haired man grinned as he looked down at Garam simply looking over his features he couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss on his forehead, “You smell like my soap…why is that cute to me?”

#threads #thread: garam #thread: garam & angel #ang3lmoans

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jo-castle · 23 hours ago

Text

Devil's Share

You know when you've been in a writers block for years and then your computer breaks and you're suddenly compelled to write a 5k fic for a fandom you've never written for before? Yeah anyway I wrote a bunch of Dick Grayson whump on my phone.

Posted it on AO3 and under the cut here.

"I want to hire you to kill Deathstroke."

Jason wasn't sure how Dick had managed to find him, but in the end he thought he shouldn't be too surprised. He made a face behind his mask that Dick couldn't see.

"The golden boy wants someone to die," even with the voice modulator the sarcasm seeped through. "Well Dick, why him? Why me?"

"He tried to kill my brother." Dick said.

Jason scoffed. "Tried?" Robins were dropping like flies, apparently.

"I stopped him."

"But you didn't kill him?" Jason teased.

"Couldn't." Dick grit through his teeth. "Was a little busy bleeding."

"I see." Jason observed him for a moment. Dick did look terrible. He leaned against the wall with a hand pressed to his side. Looked like a strong wind would tip him over. "Why me?"

"You're the Red Hood, right?" Dick said. "After Deathstroke, you're the best hitman in town. I don't know what your deal is-" Jason frowned. "-and I don't particularly like you. But I need a man to die."

Jason stilled. He didn't know. Dick didn't know. Of course Bruce never told him. Jason crossed his arms to avoid the reaction to hit something. Dick had no idea who he was, besides a random crime lord.

"I'll pay." Dick added after the silence stretched on.

"Tried to kill your brother, huh?" Jason asked. He tried to imagine Dick hating someone enough to want them dead. "That makes someone worthy of death? By trying? What if someone succeeded?"

Dick gripped the wall harder, and Jason couldn't tell if it was from anger or pain.

"Look," Dick snapped. "Someone did, okay? I have three younger brothers. The first one was killed by an awful man. The second one was nearly killed-" oh, so Bruce told him about that little incident. "-and now, yet again, another one is nearly killed! I need to stop it."

"Took you nearly losing three brothers to do anything about it huh?"

"I've tried." Dick grumbled. "I did something the first time, I killed the man who killed my brother."

Jason startled, his arms slipping to his sides. "You, what?"

"It didn't stick." Dick grumbled. "But I need this one to, okay? This man has been in my life enough. He kidnapped me-" what the fuck "-he tried to kill Damian, I-" Dick cleared his throat. "I need him dead. And I can't do it right now. Please. I can't lose another brother."

I can't lose another brother.

Jason felt the urge to tell him. To take off the helmet, to reveal it all. To yell, to scream, to ask so many questions about Dick supposedly killing the Joker. But in the end he couldn't bring himself to. He watched Dick sag against the wall, watched the dark look Dick shot his way, and all he could think was how sad it was. He knew what anger felt like. What fear felt like. He saw it in Dick. He also knew that for Dick, this wouldn't last. If Bruce couldn't bring himself to seek revenge for a lost child, Dick certainly wouldn't.

The silence stretched on and even in the dark Jason could see Dick's concentration fading.

"No." Jason said.

"Name your price-"

"I said no!" Jason snapped. He took a step forward then sighed, raising his hand to his face in an aborted gesture before motioning at Dick. "You look like you're about to fall over," Jason said. "Go home. Get better. Think this over. And when you realize this isn't what you want? Well. Don't call me."

"This is what I want." Dick insisted.

"Then do it your own damn self."

Jason turned his back on Dick and stalked off. Let that loser drag himself home. Jason had better things to do.

----

Bruce rubbed a hand over his face as the elevator doors shut on Damian's pouting face.

"Dick is fine," Bruce repeated to himself as the elevator took him down. Lying to his sons exhausted him and Damian was particularly stubborn.

The doors opened with a ding, letting out into the Batcave. Bruce strode past the empty medical bay without sparing it a glance. Dick wasn't there. Wasn't resting, like he'd told Damian. But if Damian found out that Dick had left the manor in his condition Bruce would have a nightmare to deal with on top of everything else. Hopefully Alfred would keep him distracted long enough for Bruce to find Dick and put his ass back in bed.

Tim was pouring over a computer and didn't even look up when Bruce put a hand on his chair and leaned over. The screens we full. Many showing scene from cameras Bruce knew were near Dicks frequent locations, but none of them seemed to showing Dick himself.

"Anything?" Bruce asked.

It was Barbara's voice that answered from the speaker. "Not yet." She sounded tired. Bruce didn't bother checking whatever goddamn time of night it was. "Tim is looking for Dick-"

"I'll find him." Tim muttered.

"-and I'm still looking for any information of Deathstroke. I'm worried-"

"Deathstroke didn't take him." Bruce said. The cameras had told them that much. The idiot child had limped out of here of his own free will.

"I'm worried," Barbara repeated. "That we're not the only ones looking for him."

"Who else?" Bruce asked.

"League of Shadows."

Bruce winced. Not surprising, but not what he wanted to hear.

"Deathstroke tried to kill Damian." Barbara pointed out.

"There's no way Talia doesn't already know." Bruce grumbled. He hated the idea of her having eyes inside his city. Even if it was to keep tabs on her son.

"Let them have him," Tim finally looked up. His eyes burned with unshed tears and anger. "That son of a bitch has done enough."

"Language." Bruce hissed. Tim just glared, and Bruce forced himself to take a breath. He reminded himself that the kid was, well, a kid. A kid whose brother was grievously injured and missing. "Sorry," Bruce added. "You aren't wrong."

"I'm worried," Barbara repeated, "That Dick will get caught in the crosshairs between the League and Deathstroke."

Bruce startled. "Dick is going after Deathstroke." It wasn't a question. It was so obvious.

Tim laughed. "Of course." Pulling the chair away from Bruce, he hunched over his keyboard again, flicking screens and typing code Bruce only half understood.

Bruce stepped back. No. Dick wasn't fine. He'd been fucking shot and now was apparently running amok in the city. Apparently getting himself caught in the crossfire between Deathstroke and the League of Shadows. Bruce was itching to get out there, to do his own work. Maybe he should suit up-

His phone rang. No. Batmans phone rang.

Tim paused to glance at it, then at Bruce.

"Well?" Tim demanded when Bruce hesitated. "Answer it!"

Bruce didn't want the call to be related to Dick's being missing, but he also wasn't willing to divert his focus right now. He picked up the phone anyway. Tim returned to his work when Bruce answered, but he knew the kid was listening.

"I could use your expertise here," Jim Gordon said without preamble. "Got a scene that I think you might have special knowledge of.

----

As it turned out, it was three in bloody morning. Dick had been missing for nearly twelve hours.

Spotlights lit up the scene, illuminating the gory details. The SUV was crunched to hell and looked like it had recently been on fire. The corpses the EMT's were covering looked charred. The only survivor was being hustled into an ambulance for immediate medical care.

Bruce felt sick looking at it. He lingered in the shadows, but Gordon found him anyway.

"You wanna tell me why your boy smashed a car with a garbage truck and left these guys to burn?"

Bruce sucked in a breath. "Which one?"

Jason, likely. But if Dick . . .

"Which one?" Gordon looked somewhere between frightened and offended. "How many of your dogs are off their leash?"

Bruce glared solidly, but Gordon didn't look phased. He just waved his hand as if to clear the air.

"It was Nightwing."

Dick.

"Is he here?" Bruce demanded.

"Nope." Gordon shook his head. "Fled long before we got here. Just got the camera detail. This isn't like your boy, Batman." Gordon pressed. "What's happening?"

"Who were they?" Bruce asked, ignoring the question.

Gordon fiddled with wallets in his hand. "Dunno yet." He said. "Got some IDs, trying to figure that out-"

"Let me see."

Gordon sighed, but handed them over and waited semi-patiently while Bruce read the information aloud.

"On it." Barbaras voice crackled from Bruces comm. The police weren't willing or able to crack the internet in the way Barbara could.

Bruce passed the IDs back dismissively.

"He's looking for Deathstroke." Bruce admitted.

Gordon sucked in a breath. "In Gothem?"

"If you hear anything about him, and I mean anything," Bruce said. "I need you to let me know immediately. And then stay the hell away from him."

"The cops can handle Deathstroke," Gordon said with a frown. "If you let us-"

"There are a lot of angry people after him right now." Bruce gestured at the scene in front of them. The scene Dick had caused. "They're not in a respect the cops kinda mood. They'll kill anyone who gets in their way."

Gordon grunted. "Your boys killers, Batman?"

Bruce grit his teeth. "Not yet." Spinning around, he stalked off into the dark. Not most of them, anyway. Not Dick. Not if he could help it.

----

Bruce found the door to the warehouse already swung open and heard whimpering inside. The address Barbara had directed them to was a frequent location of one of Dicks earlier victims. Barbara thought it was some kind of illegal printing press. ID's, most likely. That implied that Deathstroke was looking for a new ID, and that he might be trying to flee the country. It would be a lot harder to find him - or Dick - if he left..

Bruce gestured for Tim to hang back while he peered through the door. The room inside opened up to a dim office. Red Hood stood in the middle of the room, gun in hand. He was facing the man responsible for the whimpering, fair enough given that the man was pinned to the wall with a piece of rebar jutting out of his body.

Beckoning Tim, Bruce swept into the room.

"R-" Bruce didn't know if he'd been about to call Robin or Red Hood, but either way the name choked in his throat. "Hey."

Red Hood turned around, twirling his gun lazily over a finger.

"You're late."

The voice modulator made it impossible for Bruce to detect even a hint of the child he once knew. Then again, maybe that child wasn't even in there.

Tim lurked behind Bruce and sucked in a breath at the sight. "What did you do?"

Behind Red Hood, Jason, was a mess of blood. The man looked beat to hell, and a fresh bullet wound oozed from his leg. He barely looked conscious as he gripped the rebar.

"I shot him." Red Hood said easily.

Bruce threw him a look.

"Really!" Red Hood holstered the gun he was toying with and held up his hands. "Like I said, you're late. I found him like this."

"You found a man impaled to a wall," Bruce growled. He couldn't believe the nerve of this-

"Your precious golden boy did this."

The words were like a punch to the gut.

"Killing is off the table, but did you ever tell him not to torture people for information?" There was a smirk in Red Hoods crackling voice.

"He wouldn't." Bruce snapped. "You lying-"

"Nah, this was Nightwing."

Both Bruce and Red Hood startled. Neither of them had noticed Tim slip from Bruces side to inspect the man on the wall.

"Please," the man begged. "Help me."

"Major bruising, electrical burns consistent with Nightwings sticks, this reads like Nightwing." Tim ignored the man completely as he poked him over. "Rebar is a little dramatic, but . . ."

"Told yah," Jason shot over his shoulder at Bruce.

"Why would he do this?" Bruce wasn't really asking, the question just came out.

"Hey," Tim slapped the mans face, drawing his focus. "Who are you anyway."

"Nobody," the man whimpered. "Please, let me go. I told that blue freak, I told this red freak, I don't know where Deathstroke is!"

"What else did you tell me?" Red Hood prompted. He didn't move any closer to the man or Tim, but the man cowed anyway.

"S-same that I told the blue one. Nightwing. There's a man downtown, he might know more. . ."

"I got an address right before you showed up." Red Hood sounded smug.

"We'll check it out." Bruce said. "See if we can't get to him before Nightwing does."

"Like hell we will." Red Hood snapped. "I don't need your help. I got the info, I'll find Nightwing."

"Why do you even care?" Bruce tossed back. "Not like you've given a damn about this family recently."

Tim sucked in a breath. Other than that and the mans quiet whining, there was silence.

Red Hoods fingers twitched over his guns and Bruce silently dared him to pull one. He needed an excuse to hit someone.

Instead, Red Hood crossed his arms and turned away.

"He came to me." Red Hood muttered, and Bruce almost missed it. "He asked me to kill Deathstroke and I said no. So. Guess he decided to do it himself." Jasons head twitched towards Bruce. Despite the opaque glass, Bruce got the impression he was being glared at. "You didn't tell him." Jason said accusingly.

The words took a moment to process. You didn't tell him . . .

Oh.

"I didn't think he'd go looking for you." Bruce hissed.

"You didn't. Tell him."

"Tell him what? That my dead sidekick is alive and a crazed kill-"

"Okay now!"

Suddenly Tim was between them, a hand on Bruces chest pushing him away from Red Hood. Bruce was furious. As if he was the one that needed to be held back.

"No, none of us told Nightwing, Hood, I'm sorry." Tim kept a hand on Bruce even as he turned to Red Hood. "It's difficult, okay? But we can't fix that until we find him."

"Why do the two of you even care about finding him, huh?" Red Hood snarled. "You can't be bothered to tell him the truth about the world. You-" he gestured at Bruce "-have a new child to ruin, why bother with him? Let him rot like you did me."

"I did not-"

"Because!" Tim spoke loudly over Bruces shouts. "We're family! Okay? We find our own, when we can."

"Shitty family." Red Hood muttered, turning away. "I'm going. You're not. I'll find him."

Bruce was ready to argue, but Tim was pulling on his cape.

"Red Hood and I will check the address." Tim said. "You get this guy to a hospital." He pointed at the man who had gone limp on the wall. Bruce wondered if he was even still alive and felt a pang of guilt for not checking on him sooner.

"Tim," Bruce didn't understand why Tim was attempting to defend Jason. It hadn't even been a year since Red Hood had tried to kill the current Robin. Bruce was still upset, Tim certainly had a right to be. "You don't have to go with him." Bruce said softly. Not soft enough, given the scoffing from Red Hood. "I can-"

"You can't." Tim said flatly. "You shouldn't. I can. It's fine." He glanced at Red Hood, who hadn't moved or objected to his new partner. "We'll be fine."

----

Jason shook Tim off as soon as he pulled the bike up in front of the address the man had coughed up. The address that was, allegedly, where Deathstroke met with the man who had actually sold him the fake ID's. It looked innocuous enough. Until you took into account the shattered windows and busted in door of course, but Jason had seen worse.

"Thanks for the ride." Tim muttered, pulling off the borrowed helmet and handing it back to Jason. Jason didn't respond, just tossed it on the bike and strode towards the building.

The inside was just as messy as in the outside, possibly worse. The hallway was littered with bodies. Whoever had been working here was long since dead and their killers hadn't spared any furniture or walls in the killing.

"Even I'm not this messy." Jason muttered, trying to find a place to step that wasn't steeped in blood.

"Dick didn't do this." Tim said.

"What do you see?" Bruces voice came over the comms.

"Shut up." Jason growled. "You focus on your job, and we'll focus on ours."

"You never told me why you cared." Bruce clipped back.

"You never stopped being an ass."

"Alright," Barbara cut in. "Cut it out or get a new channel. Tell me. What is happening?"

"Buncha bodies," Tim responded. "Dick didn't do this."

"How do you know?" Bruce asked, desperation in his voice.

"Afraid your favorite child is going to fall from the pedestal you put him on?" Jason commented.

"Remember earlier when Barbara mentioned the League of Shadows might be after Deathstroke too?" Tim said, ignoring the argument.

Jason stiffed. "What? Why?"

"On account of him trying to kill their heir, and all." Tim muttered. "Long slices, blades. Lotsa blood. I don't even know if Dick could do this with a wound like he has."

Jason strode past him, abandoning his hope not to get his shoes bloody, and marched down the hallway. The door at the end was broken in, a sure sign it was the one they were looking for.

Jason pushed past it and . . .

"Jesus Christ."

Two more lay dead in the floor, and another sprawled on the desk. His body, Jason could only assume it had been a him, was sliced to hell. There was hardly a part of his body that wasn't oozing blood.

"What is it?" Bruce demanded.

Jason ignored him, wondering if the man Bruce was supposed to be taking care of was getting any care at all.

"If this is the shit Damians gonna pull one day," Tim said, walking up beside Jason. "Someone tell him to clean up. I thought assassins would be . . . sneakier than this?" Tim ignored the bodies and started pulling open cupboards in drawers in the office.

"It's less about sneak and more about flair." Jason commented.

"Is anyone going to update us?" Barbara asked.

"More bodies." Tim said. "No Dick. And, ah ha. Cameras."

"It's fresh," Jason added, toeing a body. A few hours at most. Jason was willing to bet sooner.

"Got something," Tim said from where he was clacking away. Jason abandoned the body moved to join him, reluctantly glad he'd brought the new Robin along. Computers weren't his thing.

The replay kicked on. "There." Tim said. "Two hours ago."

Dick.

He looked . . .

"Is he okay?" Bruce demanded over the comms.

"He looks like shit." Jason said.

Dick was in his Nightwing suit, but the front of it was already stained red. He stumbled into the building, a hand clutched his side as he took out the henchmen on his way it. Sticks. Fists. No swords. Dick knocked the men down but wasn't slicing them up. Tim was right. Someone else had dealt this damage.

Jason winced when Dick jumped and kicked a guy into a wall. With his gaping gunshot wound, that had to have hurt Dick more than the man. But still. Dick persisted. The camera showed Dick catching himself on the wall and pushing forward. He busted in the door and interrogated a man that Jason suspected was now dead on the desk. But Dick left without killing him.

"Here," Tim pulled the footage forwards. Dick was gone. The men in the hallway started to stir. Then, one after another, the cameras went dark. The last one, the room they were in, a shadow moved in the doorway, something hurtled towards the camera, then it too shorted out.

Even without the footage, Jason could guess what happened next.

"We just missed him." Jason muttered.

"Two hours isn't just missed."

"Fuck." Jason watched the scene play out again. Dick stumbling out and heading gods knows where, having gained god knows what information. "Fuck!" Jason yelled, snatching a paperweight off the desk and throwing it at the wall. "We got nowhere!"

"Not completely," Barbara said. "Tim, patch me in to their cameras."

"On it." Tim fiddled with the computer towers. Jason just wanted to break more stuff. He never should have left Dick. Should have hauled him over his shoulder and dropped his ass off at home. Or maybe a hospital.

Jason heard Bruce cuss through the comm.

"Told you he looks like shit." Jason said. His eyes flicked to the screen, which Barbara must be showing to Bruce by now. Jason had seen Dick earlier, he'd looked bad, but it was dark. How was he supposed to know how bad Dicks injuries were?

"Where is he?" Bruce growled through the comms. Jason honestly couldn't tell if it was more Bruce or Batman in that tone, all he knew was that the man sounded pissed. No, not pissed. Scared. Jason wondered if Bruce had felt half that fear when Jason died.

"I'm tracking him." Barbara said. "Regroup, gimme an hour, I'll find him."

Silence echoed from the comms and Jason had to assume Barbara had logged off to focus, and Bruce was probably punching shit.

Tim was on the floor, doing some detective shit. Jason didn't care. The detective bit was never his thing.

"He's awful worried about the golden child." Jason said casually, like his stomach wasn't doing a turn watching Dick on the camera. "Don't think the old mans ever been this worried about anyone before."

He felt Tims eyes on him, but refused to turn.

"I've seen him. . . like this, before." Tim said. "Four years ago, Bruce was . . . he was losing it."

Jason scoffed. "What made the old man go crazy?"

"Four years ago? His son died."

Jason snapped his head towards Tim, but the kid wasn't looking at him anymore. Wasn't even focused on his detective shit. Just trailing patterns in the blood on the floor with a finger.

"And Dick was, well, he was dealing with his own stuff. Anger at Bruce. Guilt for not being there for his brother. Grief. He wasn't in a place to help Bruce. So I did. I became Robin."

"You became Robin," Jason didn't like how dry his voice sounded. "To help Bruce? Are you insane?"

"Batman needs Robin," Tim said simply, pushing himself to his feet. "The second Robin understood that. I was just doing what needed to be done. I couldn't bring back the old one, and I could hardly fill his shoes," Tims gaze skittered to Jason for a moment before darting away again. "But I did what I could."

Jason felt the wood of the desk creak as he gripped it. He want to hit something. He wanted to cry. He wanted to run away and wash his hands clean of these people.

"So don't think Dick is special," Tim said. "Bruce grieved for you too." The statement was like a slap in the face. Then, as if to add insult to the injury, Tim slid his mask off his face and turned to him with a smile that didn't look entirely forced.

"I forgive you, you trying to kill me." Tim said. "I can't say the nightmares will go away, but, for our family, I think we need to set it aside."

"You're not my family." Jason hated his voice for betraying him, even through the helmet. Tim didn't look convinced, but he shrugged.

"Lets start with acquaintances then, huh?" He stuck out a hand. "Hi, I'm Tim Drake, the current Robin. Nice to meet you."

Jason stared at Tim so long he watched the kids smile waver into something like concern. Before he could fully process his actions, Jason had his helmet tucked under his arm and his hand in Tims. Tim looked just as surprised as he felt.

"Jason." Jason grumbled. "Not dead."

Tim released his hand and the smile on his face looked more genuine, as did the relief as he took a step back.,

"Pleasure. Well, they might not be your family, yet, but they are mine. Help me save them?"

Jason huffed, settling his helmet back on his head.

"Dick never could keep himself out of trouble."

----

The roof Bruce met with his boys on was shrouded in shadow, the perfect recon sight for some bats. Bruce shook his, glancing at Red Hood. He needed to stop thinking of Red Hood as Jason. Just because he was helping them find Dick didn't mean he was apart of the family again. Didn't mean he even wanted that.

Tim nodded to the building adjacent to them. "That's the address Barbara gave us," he said. "It's been quiet so far."

Bruce sized up the building. He opened his mouth to speak when a new voice came over the comm.

"Father."

Bruce stiffened. "Damian?"

"Would you like to explain to me why Grayson is not in his infirmary bed?"

"Damian," Bruce brought a hand to his face.

"I do not care if you would like to," Damian continued. "Grayson is missing and you are looking for him. I am joining you."

"You are not!" Bruce said. "Wherever you are-"

"I'll be there momentarily."

"Damian!"

Jason groaned and muttered something that sounded like "demon brat" as a shadow alighted on the roof beside them.

It was . . . Damian.

"What are you wearing?" Tim asked.

"My Robin costume." Damian said simply. It looked like it. Though none of the Robins had ever carried a sword like that before . . . "I will help you recover Grayson."

"His Robin-?" Tim glanced at Bruce, then at Damian. "How did you even find us?"

"Barbara told me." Damian said.

Suspicious silence echoed from the comms.

Jason crossed his arms. Bruce sighed.

"We will discuss this later," Bruce said.

"Yes we will." Damian agreed.

"But for now, you will stay on this roof while we-"

"No." Damian said. "I will handle the Leauge of Shadows who, as we speak, are approaching the area. You will recover Grayson."

"No-"

"Father," Damian clenched his fists, then let out a huffed breath and released them. "Grayson nearly died to save me. I can handle the League. I will help you."

Bruce hesitated. As ferocious as his son was, despite his upbringing, he was still just a kid.

"He can handle the League." Jason confirmed. Bruce jerked his head towards Jason, surprised. "Let him. They'll just be trouble if we're trying to battle Deathstroke on one side and the League on the other."

They were all just . . . kids. But Dick was out there bleeding somewhere, Jason tapped his fingers on his guns, Tim was poised and ready to go, and Damian looked determined to fight. . .

Bruce didn't have time for guilt or second guessing. He'd periodically been reminded how young his boys were, but . . . Reluctantly, Bruce gave a terse nod.

"We will talk about this later." He warned.

Satisfied, Damian joined them at the roofs edge, peering over.

"Are you sure this is the right building?" Damian asked.

An explosion lit up the interior, and screams rang out.

"Pretty sure." Jason muttered.

"Move." Bruce said. "Robin, Red Hood, with me. Damian . . ."

"On it."

They leapt to the street and the three of them darted into the building. Bruce glanced over his shoulder to see Damian, clad in the Robin costume, settling in front of the door, sword drawn, waiting.

"Leave him," Jason muttered. "You've done it before."

Bruce turned to snap at him, but Jason was already down the hallway after Tim. Bodies littered the hallway. Most of them groaning, all of them bleeding. Neither Tim nor Jason hesitated stepping over them, and Bruce followed. The door at the end of the hallway was swung open.

"-glad it's you to take the shot, Grayson." Deathstroke. "Though I'd recommend aiming a little to your left, you're drifting."

Bruce pushed his way into the room. Deathstrokes eye flicked past Dick to him.

"Ah," Deathstroke inclined his head. "The party poopers have arrived."

"Shut your stupid face." Jason snapped. He and Tim hovered by the door, but Bruce stepped forward.

"Nightwing," He said carefully. Dick stood lilting in the middle of the room, a gun pointed at Deathstroke. He had a hand wrapped around his waist, blood oozing between his fingers. He looked unfocused, but his gaze was focused stubbornly on Deathstroke.

Ignoring Deathstroke, Bruce stepped closer to Dick, putting out his hands, but not touching him.

"Nightwing, put down the gun." Bruce said.

"No," Dick rasped. "I'm not losing another brother."

"I'm not losing another son," Bruce insisted. "Put down the gun. Let us take you home."

"I can't let him live anymore. Not after everything he's done."

"He didn't kill Dami-"

"THAT'S NOT ALL HE'S DONE." Dick shouted.

In the silence that followed, Dicks heaving breaths, a question swirling in Bruce's mind. Now wasn't the time to ask it though.

"I should have killed him years ago." Dick said. "I didn't-" Dicks legs finally gave out and he collapsed. Bruce quickly knelt beside him, catching him before he could fall completely to the ground. Jason was at their side in an instant, but Dick raised the gun again, pointing it unsteadily at Deathstroke.

"That's not what we do," Bruce said. "We save lives. You save lives."

"Not all of them." Dick whispered.

"You're injured, Dick," Bruce said softly. "Let us help you."

Bruce reached out slowly for the gun, but Dick shook his head.

"No."

His grip spasmed more than an intentional pulling of the trigger. The gun clicked. It didn't fire. Jammed or empty, it didn't fire. Deathstroke stood looking unimpressed.

Dicks head lolled towards Bruce, giving him the most pitiful look Bruce had ever seen. Dick looked so hurt, so disappointed. So desperate.

"Let's get him out of here," Jason said, swooping down beside them and scooping Dick up easily in his arms and taking him from Dick. Tim was there, pulling the gun out of Dicks limp grip and guiding Jason out.

"Well, this has been a beautiful reunion." Deathstroke commented. Bruce turned his attention towards the man to see him near an open window, one leg swung out. "But I've really got to get going. My apologies for trying to kill the kid." He shrugged. "Gotta do what you gotta do, you know?"

Bruce clenched his fists. Deathstroke smiled, as if reading his mind.

"You can chase me," Deathstroke offered. "But you'll be abandoning Dick. Again. I wouldn't recommend that."

Again.

"What did you do to him?" Bruce asked.

Deathstroke chuckled. "Not my place to tell you," he said. "Ask the kid yourself."

He was gone. Bruce hesitated a moment longer, then swept after his boys.

The Batmobile was parked out front. Damian stood beside it, watching anxiously as Tim helped Jason slide into the back seat with Dick.

"I've got a ride." Damian said as Bruce approached. He nodded towards the shadows, where Bruce could barely see a reflection in the darkness. The League was holding back. Fucking Talia.

Bruce just nodded and slid into the drivers seat as Tim buckled in beside him. Bruce hit the gas, ignoring any and all driving laws or safety rules.

"Oracle," Bruce snapped. "Tell Alfred-"

"Way ahead of you." Barbara's voice sounded further away. "I'm on my way too. Meet you at the cave."

Bruce glanced in the mirror at Jason in the back with Dick. Jason had removed his helmet and he looked . . . soft. Softer than Bruce had ever seen him. One hand was pressing on Dicks wounds, a desperate attempt to keep any more blood from flowing, while the other carded through Dicks hair with a gentleness Bruce never would have suspected.

"Jason," Dick whispered. His eyes were unfocused, and Bruce wondered how much he was actually processing. "I'm sorry."

"You should be, dumbass." Jason muttered. "Making us come save you. It's-"

"No," Dick interrupted. "I'm sorry I didn't save you."

Jason froze, emotions crossing his face that Bruce couldn't decipher in the mirror.

"I should have been there." Dick muttered. "I wasn't. You died. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well," Jason said gruffly. "Worry about yourself dying, okay?"

"If it means I get to see you again," Dick said with a smile. "Then dying will have been worth it."

Bruce returned his gaze to the road and pressed harder on the gas, willing the car to move faster.

#whump story #batman #dick grayson whump #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #Devil's Share POI #rewrote one of my favorite television episodes with these characters #had a blast doing it #jcwritings #side note #writing and knowing that it's okay if your writing and formatting isn't perfect #it's just about the vibes and making sure you convey that blorbo is heavily injured #is very freeing

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hockeygirl101 · 17 hours ago

Text

The Lake House

Part three: The devil, the whale and the wardrobe.

Me and Luke stumble through the front door, I kick off my shoes and slip on my house slippers.

"Let's get this over with" I grumble to Luke, dragging him into the dinning room. He chuckles behind me and follows.

"Relax, everyone knows you, mostly everyone, The rest will love you, probably." Luke rambles on as we walk to the table. I turn and glare at him.

"Shut up Lu." I bite gently, I turn and see a group of guys sitting at the table, they all turn and light up.

"Bear, these are my college buddies, Ethan, Mark, Tyler, Dylan, Adam, and Luca." He points to each guy as he says their names.

"Hi, I'm Averie." I say quietly, not used to being around so many guys at once, good looking guys at that.

They all greet me as the shift to make room for me and Luke. I can hear my parents, Ellen, Jim, and Jack outside on the grill patio.

"Excuse me" I say to the table, leaving Luke with his buddies, Luke nods in understanding, gently patting my head before I walk away.

I know it's time to face jack, after all this time. Growing up, jack was the nice boy. He made me feel included and happy. As we grew up, I realized I had a crush on jack. A innocent crush, my first crush, which as I entered my teen years turned into something more.

I open the door and step out, everyone goes quiet. Ellen and Jim move to greet me, Jim gives me a quick hug and moves over to the side for Ellen.

"I see Luke found you" Ellen smiles as she rushes over to hug me. Me and Ellen had always been close, the daughter see never had. And she was the other mother, who held no judgment. She helped shape me into the women I am today.

"I missed you" I choke out as I wrap my arms around her. "I'm so sorry."

I had seen Ellen over the years, her and Jim stopping by Yale every now and then to watch me play. But I hadn't seen her here, at the lake house. It was different, I was a kid again. I was back with my family, I was 16, hoping the summer would be different.

"Honey it's okay! You're here now." She shushes me gently, giving me a squeeze before letting go. She moves to the side and I see him, Jack.

The light is reflecting in his hair, making it look blonde. He's wearing a devils sweater and swim trunks. I let my eyes travel over him, up to his face. I lock eyes with him, my heart scratching up my throat.

"Hey Bear" he says gently, setting his beer down and walking to me. I take a step back out of instinct. He stops.

"How you been B?" He asks in that tone, Jacks tone. It's something that sends chills up my spine. Of course I knew what he looked like, I had seen the instagram post, the TikTok edits. He looked good, pretty, gentle.

"Hey Rowdy" I smile at him, I take that step forward and throw my arms around him. He wreaks his arms around my waist, squeezing me as if I'll disappear again. I shove my face in his neck.

"Missed you so much." I say just for him to hear. They parents know what happened in a sense, though we all agreed to spare them the details of that summer. Ellen heard more than most on the move in day.

"You got no clue Bear, never thought I could miss someone that much" he whispers back to me.

My dad clears his throat, making the rest of the parents move inside, giving us space.

I pull away from him, wiping the tears that slips over my lashes. I gaze up at him, and I realize he's the exact same jack as he's always been. Nothings changed.

"You look good" he says, giving me a clear once over. "Your eyes are still the same" he smiles at me. Jack had always loved my eyes. Why? I could never know.

"I look gross from my run. I'm guessing you're the one who sent the search dog" I joke with him. Growing up, if you needed to find me, Luke would always know where I was, he still does.

"Hey you guys got that weird connection, he's your soulmate" he shrugs picking up his beer again. "Want one? Got your favourite" jack gestures to his cooler sitting on the pools patio. I nod.

"Always do" I smile. We move down to the pool chairs and sit down, he opens the can and hands it to. I had trained them all to open my cans, so I don't ruin my nails. I guess it stuck.

"Thanks" I say as I lean back into the cushioned seat. "So how you been?" I ask looking over him, he locks his eyes on mine. A small smile graces his lips.

"The same, good. An absolute god at hockey." he jokes, but I see it in his eyes. I can tell, somethings wrong.

"Don't lie." He gives me a look, the looks he gives me when I read his mind. He always joked growing up I was a mind reader, the thing is, Jack wears his emotions on his face. You just have to be able to read them.

"Fine, I just feel like I could have been better this season." Jack confesses looking away from me.

I knew his team hadn't made the playoffs, and him and Luke both got a little banged up at the end of the season. It seems as if the time I spent away from the brothers hadn't even happened to them. Jack had always trusted me in the past with his confidence, and when he's lacking it.

"Jack you've got to be kidding me, you were right you know. People pay to watch you play." Smiling over at him, I see him chuckle.

"So I guess you've been watching. Luke was right, guess he always is when it come to you though. Isn't he?" Jack looks over at me, looking at me like I'm sitting just out of reach, like he'll never be able to actually reach me. It's the kind of look that makes your stomach turn. I shake my head gently at him.

"I guess so, he's just Luke" Turing my head, I take a sip of my beer, looking out onto the dock. "He just knows me, always will" I mumble, looking down then back up to Jack.

He nods, he understands why Luke and I are close. He knows me and Luke are the same person, and that's just something he can't come between. Not that he hasn't tried before, everyone has. Only one really ever succeeding, for a brief moment in time anyhow.

"It's good to have someone know you. Only some people are lucky enough to find that" jack looks out at the dock, shakes his head and turns back to me, "Have you met Nico? He's inside with your brother looking at your hockey stuff" the days standing up sticking his hand out. "Come on"

I stand and take his hand, walking up to the grill patio and through the door. We walk to the study, down the hall from the kitchen. When we walk in my brother and a guy are sitting looking over my medals.

"Hey Nico, this is Bear, or Averie I guess" Jack says the man sitting beside my brother. Of course I knew who Nico was, watching the games every night you pick up the names.

"Hi Nico, nice to meet you. Jack and Luke have told me much about you. You're a good player." I smile at him. He smiles back and stands, he walks over to me and jack.

"Hi, they've told me a lot about you too, it's great to meet you. You're pretty much famous in the locker room." He smiles shaking my hand, he lets go and turns to jack. "Though they didn't mention how good of a player you are. I mean this shits crazy, you think I'm good, and you're putting up the same numbers as me." he says looking around the room.

When I had moved into Yale, I put all my hockey stuff in the study. I wanted it far away from me, somewhere it couldn't hurt me. I look around at all of it, it makes me think about my future, here, at Yale, with these guys. I turn my head and look at Theo. He's already looking, sympathy written on his face. He knows how hard it is to see all this stuff, it was here for a reason.

"Yea thanks, anyways dinner should be ready soon. I'm going to go change." I say as I walk out the study and back to the stairs. I rush up and run to my room. I close the door and flop down onto my bed. I was exhausted and we haven't even eaten yet. I let out a sigh, I sit up and walk over to my closet. I slip on sweats and a long sleeve shirt. I close the door, I turn to my bed and hear the gravel on the driveway crunching, someone's here. I move to look out my window, which has a small view of the end of the drive way.

My heart shatters, I know the car. It's his car. He's here, Quinn's here. The only man I've ever loved is here, and I'm not ready.

I feel my heart beat pick up. The front door opens and I run and lock my bedroom door. Why? I have no clue, makes me feel safer I guess. The front door closes and I hear shuffling. Then I hear someone coming up the stairs, I feel bile rise up my throat. A knock. He wouldn't come up here like that. Would he? He probably doesn't even know I'm here.

"Who is it?" I say through the door

"It's me, dude open up" Theos voice drifts under the door, he try's to open it but the lock stops him. "Seriously? You locked the door?"

I unlock and open the door. Grabbing him by his shirt I yank him in my room. I close and lock the door again, Theo gives me a wild look, like I've got three heads.

"Quinn's here" was say in sync. He gives me a puzzled look. "Window" I say pointing to the side window, it still sits open. He nods and sits on my bed.

"So how do you want to play this? I'm on your team here." He gives me a serious look, I think for a second. I don't know, I've never not known.

"There no game plan. We go down, have dinner, I'll ignore him, he'll ignore me. It's fine come on." I try to fake my confidence, but it's written in my face. Theo lets it go and follows me out the door.

We walk down stairs to the dinning room, Theo pulls me back before I walk in.

"If you need to leave, just do it I'll cover for you." Growing up, me and Theo were there for each other. No matter what. We have always had each others backs.

"I know, I'm fine come on" I walk into the dinning room, everyone's sitting down.

The light buzz of talking stops when me and Theo walk in. Luke looks like he's seen a ghosts, Jack can't even look me in the eye. Nico and Luke college friends are even looking at their plates. And there, at the head of the table, sits my Whale.

#the lake house ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼#ask ave #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #hughes brothers #nhl #nj devils #vancouver canucks

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