#they were ignorant like any old timers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-forbidden-pookie · 6 months ago

Text

Unknown motives

Tw: SFW, written with a fem reader in mind, attempt at comedy, fluff with a dash of something else, slight use of profanity, reader is short for plot reasons.

Pairing: Anton Ivanov x reader

#Free Palestine🇵🇸

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

"Sorry," the large man says as he approaches you "I got held up by this strange guy asking if I wanted to play cards or something on my way here... Hm? You haven't started interviewing our president yet, have you? Don't forget to lower the mic stand a bit."

You blink up at him in surprise, and suppress an eye roll. You can't help it, everything about him was giving... the same vibe you see in the old capital era movies, the frat boy types. Still, you respond cordially enough "Huh? Oh you mean the reporter lady from earlier? No she left already, I'm the new part timer." You say confidently, deciding you'll end this conversation quickly if you looked sufficiently assertive. The work site was plenty noisy too, surely he'll get annoyed from talking out here soon enough.

The man's hand was on its way to the back of his head, his eyes trained away from you before he halts and looks back "A new part timer? Who the hell hired you?"

"I hired myself." You say simply.

"Ha, you hired yourself? Really now? And who made you think you were qualified enough to work here?"

You don't bother giving your real reasons "The field of construction calls for me." Is what you say instead.

"Calls for you, huh?" To your surprise , the man takes your words seriously, and you notice a name tag that introduces him as Senior Staff and On Site Project Manager Anton Ivanov. Wow, what a mouthful, no wonder he seems to know who exactly does and doesn't work here.

"You look like a runt... Can you handle the job? Do you even know how to tell apart a Gauging trowel from a Margin trowel?"

You blink owlishly back at him, startled out of your thoughts "A what now?"

"Exactly my point! How about I test you, then? First, go get me a torque wrench."

"Ahaha" you laugh awkwardly "Uh yup! I totally know what that is!" Why is there no connection in this place? I need to Google this! You panic internally.

"Oh really? Well then go get one. It's right by the tool box in the west warehouse." He points at said building "I'll be waiting here."

You quickly turn away before he sees your expression descend into panic "Mhm, be right back boss man!"

"Hah, what's with that look?... Wait... Hey! Come back here!"

You ignore him and use your small frame to your advantage and easily weave through construction workers left and right, most of them admittedly much bigger than you. Still, you disappear into the crowd and easily loose anyone trying to stop you. Once you make it to the warehouse, you go ask someone on duty about the tool, and find a bear gentleman squinting at a clipboard.

"Excuse me sir." You interrupt politely "The project manager sent me to grab a tool for him, can you tell me where-" you pause. What did he call it again? You stare at the fellow in front of you as he stares back. Once it became apparent you weren't going to finish the sentence any time soon, he points at a collection of crates in one section of the warehouse

"I'm busy so help yourself kid." He says, then leaves before you can correct him about you not being a kid.

Welp.

You go look though the crates, hoping any of them would be marked or named, and while some of them are, most of those are in Russian.

You don't speak Russian.

You sigh, and decide nothing will get done if you keep standing here, so you grab a random heavy tool, and lug it back to Anton, who surprisingly did wait for you where he said he would.

"I'm back! Did you miss me?" You pant from the exertion, trying to hide the toll this is taking on you with jest "Is- is this it?"

Anton looks dumbfounded for a moment before speaking "...That's a welder's mask, kid. The kind bear Thirens use."

You look down "So that's what the glass part is for... Hey I'm not a kid! You're just way too tall!"

Anton smirks, amused with your response "You're not a kid, huh? Then how old are you, shorty?"

You look away. "Hmph. You should never ask a lady about her age! It's improper!" You dodge the question. You may be an adult, but there's a non zero chance that once you show him your ID he thinks you're presenting him with a fake one and kick you out immediately. You'd rather not give him the chance. "So how do I go about properly signing up to join Belobog Heavy Industries anyway?"

Anton chuckles, seemingly getting a kick out of this "Ha! It's funny that a shorty like you can call herself a lady. You're barely at half my height. Anyways, if you wanna work here, I'll have to assess your experience and qualifications first."

You are certainly not looking forward to that.

"... Isn't there someone else that can do that...? Maybe someone I don't have to crane my neck all the way up just to look at their face?" You sweat drop.

Anton laughs, thoroughly enjoying this situation "Nope, not a chance. You're stuck with me, shorty. Now, quit complaining and tell me what you can do with those tiny arms of yours."

You crouch down and grab a random rock, then stack a few more on top of it. Once done you stand back up and point at your creation. "Construction...?"

Anton raises an eyebrow, looking the most baffled you've seen him all day, and that's saying something. He stares at your attempt before he lets out a disbelieving laugh "Construction? You call that... whatever it is, construction? I'm not sure if I should be impressed, concerned, or just downright baffled."

You don't hesitate "Which one's more likely to get me hired?"

"Anton crosses his arms, looking you up and down as he seriously consideres your question. His earnestness is starting to get to you.

"Hm, I suppose I'd be impressed, because it takes a lot of audacity to call that thing construction. So I'm going to give you a chance."

He grins slightly.

"Spend the day around the site today but don't go past any yellow lines without permission. If you still want to join us afterwards, come find me and my bro at the end of the day at my office. We'll discuss your new position in the company then, shorty."

You can't help it, caught off guard by his genuine offer, you let out a huge, surprised smile, no sarcasm or barbs in sight "Wait really?!"

You can vaguely tell Anton is taken aback by your response, but he quickly covers it up with a smirk "Of course. It'd be fun to have someone so short around here to tease, it's not like I can mess with the president after all." He says jokingly.

At your resulting glare, he chuckles and ruffles your hair with his large hand.

For a second, you feel dumbfounded at the overly familiar act, but you quickly regain your composure and push his hand away "Sorry head pats are reserved for friendship level 8 or higher."

"Oh? 8 or higher, huh? That's a pretty high number. I guess I'll have to work my way up to earn the privelage then.

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

As the work day comes to a close, you make your way to Anton's office, directed by the scowling red head girl that often came to check on you throughout the day. She awkwardly waves off your genuine thanks.

I guess everyone here looks scary but is actually nice? You wonder.

"Hey there, shorty." Anton perks up from his slumped position as he sees you come in. You notice his desk and seat appear comically small when compared to his size, it doesn't help that the office room is rather cramped. "Did you have a fun day of "construction" today?"

You sigh "I tried to help, but everyone kept telling me I'd just get in the way." You say as you unceremoniously drop in a guest chair by his wooden desk "Please hurry up and give me an official position at the company."

Anton's smirk softens as he sees your dejected expression.

"Heh, I can see you really want to fit in here, huh? My bro and I really appreciate that kind of spirit. Alright, I'll do you a favor and give you an official position."

He seems to think for a moment before speaking "How about you become the company's official short stack? We do lack a mascot."

Your eye twitches involuntarily "My dude you are giving my fist an erection. Are you trying to get socked in the face?"

Anton doubles over his desk laughing, a full body laugh with his shoulders shaking and his mouth gasping for air. Well it was a very good line wasn't it? You inwardly give yourself a pat on the back for causing that reaction. Finally when the bursts of laughter subside and he can actually breathe again, the taller male leans down and gets close to your face with his signature smirk on.

"Ha! I'd like to see you try. Besides, you're too short to land a proper punch, anyway."

Anton's smirk fades into a more serious expression this time as he considers your question. He taps his chin in thought.

You deadpan. Bro cannot be acting all nonchalant after he almost went into cardiac arrest from your joke "Back on topic," you say impatiently "any real positions I can fill up?"

He looks you up and down for what feels like the millionth time this day, before speaking "If I'm being honest, the only jobs you could fit would probably be serving food at the cafeteria or maybe assisting in office work, hardly something that would feel like construction work."

"Hmm, let's see..."

You try not to pout "But just today I saw a girl shorter and definitely younger then me, she was working hands on and-"

"The president," Anton interrupts "has many years of experience, she also may not look it to your untrained eyes but she has a lot of practical muscles that make up for her size disadvantage."

You blanch That was the President?! I'd been calling her girlie-pop all day! I think I even called her pookie once?!

Suddenly, all the strange looks the staff were throwing you throughout the day made a lot more sense.

"That said..." Anton brings you back out of your thoughts "How about we start you off as an assistant? I'll have you work under me, and I'll show you the ropes around here, it would also count as a training period. If you prove yourself competent, I'll consider promoting you to an official position."

Your eyes gain a shine to them at the offer he went of his way to give, and you feel a bit remorseful at all the attitude you've been giving him "Wait, wouldn't that be troublesome for you?"

Anton shrugs lightly, that smirk returning to his face.

"Troublesome? Nah, I'd get a kick out of having a pipsqueak like you following me around. And who knows, maybe you can learn a thing or two from a professional like me." He says, pointing proudly at his chest.

You deadpan yet again. "I take back the good thoughts I started having of you, what was I thinking?" You tell him as you shake your head in mock despair.

Anton laughs at your blunt response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Ha! There's Shorty's short temper kicking in again. Come on, don't be so uptight . I'm just messin' with ya."

He grins widely, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. He then playfully ruffles your hair with his hand.

You push his hand away again "My head isn't for patting unless you're level 8 friendship I said!"

Anton laughs good naturedly, and obediently removes his hand.

"Ha! Still going on about that friendship level thing? Fine, I'll keep my hands to myself for now. But just know, I have plenty of other ways to bother you, Shorty."

"I've known you for only one day and yet I don't doubt that one bit."

Anton crosses his arms and leans against the nearby wall, looking down at you.

Still, you can't resist messing with him right back, so you get up and walk away "Nevermind I'll go see if the convenience store down the street is still hiring-"

"Oh, you have no idea. Stick around, shorty, and you'll see what I mean. You haven't experienced true torment yet." His voice has a teasing quality to it and you can tell he puts extra care in making that obvious to compensate for his naturally intimidating size and face.

Anton quickly scrambles off the wall and grabs your arm, halting your retreat "Oh no you don't. You're not getting out of this that easily." He smirks, as if he wasn't floundering less then a second ago. His grip on your arm is gentle yet unrelenting "You're stuck with me, Shorty. You already accepted the job as my assistant, remember? You can't back out now."

You sigh dramatically, and hear as Anton laughs at your theatrics. You then remember the two of you haven't properly introduced yourselves to each other yet "I guess I have to be a woman of my word." You say in mock reluctance as he lets go of your arm "It's a little late, but my name is Y/n by the way, L/n Y/n. What's yours?"

His smirk slowly fades into a genuine smile "Oh, we never did properly introduce ourselves, huh? Hah, guess we were so busy bickering we forgot about the formalities." He extends his hand for a handshake "Name's Anton Ivanov. Remember that, ok Shorty?"

You grasp his hand, his grip strong and sturdy "Like I said, my name's Y/n. Since we're on the more serious topics, is there a contract I need to sign or am I in a trial period for now?"

Anton shakes your hand gently before responding, seemingly very aware of how much bigger his hand is as it is engulfs yours. If you didn't know better you'd think he's nervous to accidentally hurt you. "Yeah trial period's a fitting name, and no contract signings just yet. We'll see how you do working under me before we worry about paperwork. So, Shorty, are you ready to get started as my assistant?"

"How early does the work day start here?" You ask, forcefully dragging your eyes away after they started staring at his chest a bit too long. You can't help it tho! It's more comfortable for your neck to stare at that region!

Anton scratches his chin thoughtfully, considering your question and blissfully unaware of your internal turmoil.

"Hmm, work usually starts around 6 in the morning. We like to get an early start here at Belobog. Why do you ask?"

You gulp "Wow, bright and early with the sunrise huh?"

Anton valiantly tries to suppress a chuckle at your reaction. He fails, but you suppose it's the effort that counts.

"Yep, bright and early. We don't like to waste time around here. And hey, don't worry about adjusting to the early hours, you'll get used to it soon enough, shorty."

"I sure hope so." You sweat drop, then your eyes drift to the arm sized device strapped to his arm. "Is that the main tool you use?" You motion with your chin towards the machine he still has strapped to his arm despite the work day being already over.

Anton follows your gaze, and he brightens considerably at your question. "This is my bro, it's a pile driver." He says seriously, and it doesn't take long to realize he's not joking.

He grins, looking down at his arm-mounted weapon affectionately "My bro and I go way back, and it got my back in both work and combat." He says proudly.

"I guess you could say it is, in a way, like family. It's been with me through a lot."

He pats the pile driver, a fond look in his eyes.

Your eyes soften "Well, can't wait to see you and your bro in action once I officially start!" You exclaim, mentally cataloguing the pile driver as Anton's Emotional Support Companion in you head.

"So, I hear Belobog Industries has dorms for all staff members, are newbies like me included or do I need to find my own lodgings around here?" You change the subject, because while you didn't mind hearing more about Anton and getting to know him better, you did still have an objectif in coming here "I wanna know if I'll need to make moving arrangement soon."

Anton's grin widens at your enthusiasm and what he reads as genuine interest in the company.

"Ha! That eager to get in on the action, huh?" he guesses "You're going to fit right in here."

He pats your head lightly, and you're starting to understand it's meant to be a playful gesture rather than a condescending or even teasing one.

"And don't worry about lodging. We provide dorms for all staff members, including newbies like you. You don't need to worry about finding a place to stay."

"Well that's convenient," you say as you bat his arm away, almost by reflex now "I guess I better go get my stuff sorted by tomorrow then." You say as you shift to get going, before a loud bang outside Anton's office door startles you both, and a tall woman comes barreling in.

"Anton!" She all but shouts "I got it! I cracked the code uncle Khors left behind!"

Next to you, Anton is initially startled by the sudden entrance, but he soon regains his composure. He throws a look at you, as if making sure you're not scared off by the taller woman's antics, then turns back to her, his face a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"Grace? You cracked the code? That's great, but we need to tell the president before you -"

But this Grace person is no longer listening, as her attention is now in on you "Huh, I didn't know it was bring your kid to work day? Wait who's kid is this?"

You deadpan "For the last time. I'm an adult."

At your claim, she looks you up and down and it's quite obvious she doesn't believe you. "A highschooler maybe." She murmurs under her breath.

Anton quickly interjects before she can say more, and you can hear the hint of annoyance in his voice as he speaks "Grace, Y/n's not a high schooler..."

You finally sigh and take out your ID card, at least Anton seemed to believe you so you didn't think he'd take it for a fake ID.

"Oh you poor thing!" The woman says after thoroughly comparing your face to the image on the card "who malnourished you?"

"I'm not malnourished." You say with a tired sigh, but it's not like you can explain your situation, so you don't think you come off as very believable.

Anton gives Grace a sarcastic look as she tries to save her mistake. He rolls his eyes, but a small smile still forms on his face.

"Well!" Grace says "Whatever you two are discussing can wait, let's get her to the cafeteria before it closes, someone is in desperate need of a big meal-" At Anton's warning look, Grace amends "Uhh that person being Anton! A bear sized fellow like him definitely needs to eat lots!"

"Nice save there, Grace. Real subtle."

I don't know what these two's relationship is, but they seem close. You wonder internally.

And as Anton glances at you, it seems he misreads your pondering expression as one of doubt about yourself because he says: "Don't you worry, Shorty. You're fine. I've met actual malnourished people, and trust me, you're in the clear."

...why is he such a green flag?! You have to admit to yourself it'd be quite the shame if he is dating Grace.

"But it's true that we're all hungry" Anton continues while nodding "Grace is right, and let me tell you, the cafeteria food here is really good. I wouldn't want you to miss out on it, shorty."

You nod back, liking the idea "Alrighty then, please lead the way." You go for a polite voice but at Grace's giggle you wonder if you over did it.

Anton grins and gestures for both of you to follow him.

"Aight, I'll show you the way to the cafeteria."

He starts walking and motions for you and Grace to fall in step beside him.

Grace starts telling you both all about the mysterious code the former president of Belobog Industries had left behind, and while fairly sure the information should remain confidential, it wasn't like you could stop the woman on her tirade, you notice Anton doesn't even try.

Then again, they probably think I haven't a single clue of what she's talking about.

As the three of you near what you assume is the cafeteria, Grace stops dead in her tracks. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I know I was the one that suggested coming here but I just got an alert and I need to go back and check on my children!" Grace exclaims showing a notification with a warning symbol for an icon. By children, you figure she's talking about machines or software code.

Anton hardly looks surprised. He shakes his head "Hah, typical Grace. Don't worry about it, we can grab food ourselves. You go take care of your babies."

Anton pats her on the shoulder reassuringly "Just make sure to eat something later, okay?"

Grace nods, and you expect her to hurry off towards her workstation but instead she moves to your side and whispers in your ear "My intuition tells me you're a good person, so good luck, I'm rooting for you!" And as you blink in surprise, the woman is already rushing off. You realize that at some point you'd made the judgement she was wholly focused on her mechanic creations and had little attention to her surroundings, but that had to be untrue. She read the situation in seconds and seems to be setting you two up on a date of sorts.

Anton on the other hand watched the entire exchange with one eyebrow raised.

As Grace runs off towards her creations, he turns back to you with a slightly quizzical look.

"What'd she whisper to you?"

You give him a sly smile "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Anton gives you a playful glare in return and crosses his arms "Oh, now you're just teasing me. Come on, spill the beans Shorty. Let me in on the secret."

You skip ahead and push the cafeteria double doors open "Oh wow this place smells great, it's suddenly making me feel so hungry! We better get some food quick!"

Behind you, you hear the taller male let out a hearty chuckle at your unsubtle change of topic "A convenient case of selective hearing, huh? Okay, I'll let it slide for now."

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

After filling your trays with food the two of you choose somewhere to sit, and with the cafeteria mostly empty it was like you had the whole place to yourselves.

Time to satisfy our empty stomachs.

Or so you thought.

You barely get to sit down before Anton gets a call, and he immediately gets up to take it. You wonder for a few seconds if it would be rude or not to start eating without him, however the call doesn't take that long.

"Sorry about that." Anton says, but when you look up to face him it's like looking at a different person. His attention is still on his phone and the set of his shoulders is stiff, but most of all, his smile is nowhere to be found "Something came up, you can start without me and uh- I'll be right back."

He's gone before you can get a word in edgewise.

Well, now you've been subjected to the inconvenience of eating alone in a cafeteria. At least it's mostly empty. You take exactly two bites of your delicious burger (it seems he was right about the food in this place) before you're interrupted, by Grace again this time.

"Hey! You're Anton's girlfriend!"

You almost choke-

"Where did he go- I think I messed up and I need his help before Sweet Pea finds out!"

Wow... Where do I even start with this one...

You decide to go with the basics "I'm not his girlfriend. I don't know someone called him away I think. Why are you afraid of a vegetable finding out about your mistake...?"

"So he's not here? Oh no." The woman turns on her heel and leaves.

You don't hesitate and follow after her, you'd rather not have to sit alone in a cafeteria, you just hope no one will put away your food while you're gone.

The real problem tho, is how much taller and faster she was. By the time you make it to the double doors you have no clue which direction she went in.

I think she went this way last time?

You pick a direction and at some point the smoke alarms start beeping in the halls, and you hear footsteps somewhere in the building rushing to and fro. Sure enough, you find yourself in a technician's lab at the end of the route. The only problem is, Grace is not here.

You walk in.

It doesn't take long to figure out what was causing a commotion, as the smoke alarm was beeping on and off above a smoking machine component. You step closer and take a look.

Hmm I'm not familiar with this model, but...

Your head turns towards the computer setup on the desk, warning and error messages flashing on the monitor. You sit down and crack your knuckles.

Let's give this a go.

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

Anton comes back to the cafeteria, finding you right where he left you.

"Heyo Shorty, sorry that took a while, wha- you're not eating yet?"

"Ah- I nibbled at the burger a bit, but I didn't wanna start without you so..." You lie smoothly.

"What the- I told you you could start," Anton says plopping into his seat "now I feel bad for making you wait so long." He says with a- is that a kicked puppy face? You didn't even know it was possible on him.

You instantly start feeling bad "Oh no worries, I didn't even feel the time pass!" I was fairly occupied anyways "Oh! I heard a lot of noise out there, what was going on?" You smoothly switch subjects, grabbing a hold of your burger and taking a bite.

"Hn? Oh yeah, the smoke alarm was ringing in multiple branches but there wasn't a fire in any of them, the system was pranking us I guess." He stabs his steak and starts cutting it "I tried to go back right after but Grace came to find me cuz something was acting up, so I go on a detour to her lab, we got there and whatever she needed a hand with just righted itself so I hurried back." He takes a bite of meet and waits till he's swallowed it to continue "You sure I didn't take too long?"

You smile "Really it's fine, it wasn't that long at all."

For the first seven to ten minutes of you two sitting together again, you both give your undivided attention to your food filled trays. Finally, after devouring an entire burger you break the silence "I'm gonna be honest with you, Anton, I had you all wrong when I first saw you this morning." You say between mouthfuls of fries, keeping one hand in front of your mouth whenever there's food in it and you need to talk.

Anton grins at your admission, taking a sip of his drink before replying "Hah, yeah, I can tell. You were giving me the eye roll of all eye rolls this morning. I take it you've changed your opinion of me now then?"

"Well, you have a very imposing build and with your resting scowl face I thought you'd be... Well nevermind, turns out you're someone who helps those in need... you also got a nice laugh." You end softly.

You hear a utensil drop, and you look up to see Anton's fork fell onto his steak, but more interesting was the deer caught in headlights look he was giving you.

Just as fast as it comes however he pushes it away, regaining his composure in record speed "Ha! I can see why you thought that. I do have a bit of a mean mug when I'm not smiling, though I've been told my laugh sounds like a bear's roar, so the nice laugh bit is definitely a first!" He grins at you, and you wonder if the lighting is playing tricks on you because you think there's some light redness at the top of his cheekbones. He then continues "But you're right, I do try to be helpful and kind, especially to those in need. And I'd like to think my sense of humor isn't half bad either."

You're not sure how to respond to that, the man has been nothing but forthcoming and honest with you all day while you've been... not.

Instead, you glance at the wall clock and say "I think I need to head out soon." As you clean off the last of your fries. "I came here for a job interview but I somehow ended up meeting you and uh- I really enjoyed it! I just wouldn't wanna walk back home too late in the dark y'know?"

"Anton looks at the time on his phone and nods in understanding."

"Yeah, it is getting late. It's not safe to walk around at night, especially for short stuff like you. I don't want you getting lost between the cracks in the sidewalk or something." He gives you a playful smirk.

You go to reply, deadpan tone and expression at the ready when he interrupts you.

"But... if you want, I could always give you a ride home. I have a company car parked nearby."

You hesitate " ...you already payed for the meal, which I'll totally pay you back for by the way! So I don't want to trouble you more..."

Anton shakes his head and waves off your concerns "Nah, don't worry about it. It's just a meal, it's no trouble at all. And don't worry about paying me back either, consider it a welcome to the company gift." He grins, then leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially "Besides, you wouldn't be troubling me. It's my pleasure to help you out, Shorty."

You sweat drop "What's the point of me giving you my name if you'll just keep calling me that?"

Anton chuckles at your reaction, clearly enjoying teasing you "Oh, lighten up a bit. I like giving nicknames to people. It's a nice way to bond, y'know? Besides, it's kind of fitting, don't you think? Given your, uh, petite stature."

You glance at his emptied out tray, the mountains of food he'd heaped onto it already gone "Well, the bonding experience can wait till tomorrow, if you're done, shall we get going?"

Anton leans back in his chair, patting his stomach with a satisfied smile "Yeah, I'm all done. Let's hit the road." He stands up and stretches, then motions for you to follow him "Come on, Shorty. Let's get you home safe and sound."

You follow after him "Tell me honestly, Anton." You say as he grabs his tray to place it on the racks nearby, when you go to grab yours he beats you to it and smoothly takes that one as well, stacking it on his.

"I could've carried that!" You whine.

Anton's infuriatingly attractive grin makes another appearance "Oh, I know you could've carried it. But I'm just being a gentleman, shorty. Can't have you doing all the hard work before you even start tomorrow, you'll get even tinier!" He ends, his tone is teasing as usual but his eyes softened up considerably, and the look he's giving you has your insides turning to mush.

You flush. "Uh- as I was saying, are you maybe a bear in disguise? Because you just cleaned off a mountain of food alone."

Anton laughs at your flushed expression and your playful accusation, the way he's keeping his composure somehow just feels unfair, though you guess for someone working in construction keeping his cool would be a must.

"Ha! Bear in disguise, huh?" He replies "Nah, I'm just a guy with an appetite. You know, working here, I need the extra energy." Then his grin turns cocky "Plus, it takes a lot of food to fuel all this muscle." He gives a playful flex, showing off his bicep with a smirk.

You give a playful eye roll "Oh wow, and you're so humble too!" You say flatly "What a catch wow!"

Anton lets out a hearty laugh at your sarcastic remark and gives you a playful salute "Oh, you know it. I'm the total package. Good looks, charm, wit, and the appetite to match." He grins, clearly enjoying the banter, which you've come to enjoy as well.

"But I'll have you know, there are quite a few women here who think so too."

You deadpan "Good for you. Give me there number, I'll help set you up."

Anton chuckles, then scratches his chin in mock thoughtfulness, then his expression turns into a grin and he gives you a playful nudge.

"But why would I need their number when I've got yours, Shorty?"

You blink "Huh? But I never gave my number...?"

"Yeah, not yet you didn't, but I have good intuition. Call it a sixth sense." He taps his temple with a wink. And it's telling me a certain cute Shorty is interested."

You flush harder "Well your sixth sense must be malfunctioning this time." You say walking ahead, trying to keep him from seeing your beat red face. Unfortunately, with how much taller he is, he catches up by the next second.

When he's by your side, he wastes no time laughing at your flushed face "Hah, you're forgetting who you're dealing with, Shorty. These long legs of mine give me an unfair advantage."

You don't reply.

"And are you sure my sixth sense is malfunctioning this time? Cuz you're lookin' real flustered."

"You're imagining things, maybe it's time to visit the eye doctor?" You huff.

"Oh? Is that so? Hm, maybe my eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. Let me have a closer look, just in case."

He places one hand on your shoulder to halt your walk and leans in closer, making a show of examining your face.

Your eyes go wider then your older sister's saucers "Hmm strange, I'm getting a clear view of your rosy cheeks right now, and my sixth sense is telling me it's not from the cold."

You consider how to get the upper hand in this situation, but with your muddled mind it gets a bit tricky. You end up going with the first thing that comes to mind "You're right, it's from the heat, it's really getting hot in hear for some reason-" You start, before realizing belatedly how suggestive that sounded "Uh- wait no-" You flush further.

Anton grins at your unintentional innuendo, and raises an eyebrow, playing along "Oh really? Getting hot in here, hm?" He looks around, feigning innocence "Huh, seems like a comfortable temperature to me. Maybe it's just you, Shorty."

You cover your tomato colored face with your arms "Oh enough already, you win so just stop!"

Anton laughs and puts his hands up in mock surrender "Alright, alright, I'll stop. Can't have the cute shorty overheating on me now, can I?" in a quieter, more gentle tone, he adds, "But seriously, your blush is adorable."

You groan "Anton!"

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

Anton pulls up outside your house in the company car and turns to you with a smile "Here we are, shorty. Home sweet home."

You nod "Thank you, and sorry for the trouble."

Anton shakes his head and waves off your apologies "No trouble at all, I enjoyed the company. Besides, I couldn't just let you walk home alone in the dark." He grins, then adds in a playful tone, "Especially not when you're such a cute Shorty."

You deadpan "Don't make me take it back." You consider something then say "Give me your phone for a sec."

Anton raises an eyebrow, but obediently hands you his phone "Sure, but why do you need it? You gonna put your number in without me asking?"

"Nice try. I'll give you my Inter Knot contact for work stuff. You're not high level enough to get my number yet."

"High enough level, huh? Am I just a lowly level one in your eyes right now?"

Not looking up from your typing you reply "You made it all the way up to level three on day one, Congrats! But your nickname for me is shorty, I don't know how to feel about that yet."

Anton laughs, seemingly amused by your rating system for him "Only level three? Damn, I was hoping for a higher rank. But you're right, the nickname 'Shorty' might be deducting some points."

He grins, then adds with a wink, "Maybe if I find a better nickname, I'll rank up higher in your eyes... or maybe I'll just keep calling you 'Shorty' just to annoy you."

You deadpan "Well that would be very in character for you wouldn't it?" You say handing him back the phone.

Anton takes it back with a smirk, clearly unrepentant for his nickname choice "Hah, you know me so well already, Shorty. I gotta admit, your deadpan face is just too fun to tease." He leans in closer, unable to resist poking at you further "Besides, the way you turn all tomato-red whenever you're flustered is just priceless."

You push his face back with your hand "Goodnight Anton, see you tomorrow." You say as you unlock the cat door and head out.

"Haha, goodnight, Shorty. Get some rest. Sweet dreams."

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

And as you lock the car door and leave, Anton checks his phone, leaving the Inter Knot app to check the CCTV footage he has access to. The one that clearly shows you entering and leaving Grace's lab. He barely mumbles out "Till tomorrow then... Y/n. Hopefully I'll figure out what you're really up to soon."

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

Hmm did I manage to make the reader subtly mysterious? 🤔 Tell me guys if y'all want a part two. LavenderLily you can tell me directly 👀

And as always, Free Palestine ❤️ 🇵🇸

#Anton #Anton Ivanov #zzzero #zzz #Zenless Zone Zero #Fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #x you #Anton x reader #Anton Ivanov x reader #Anton Ivanov x you #zzz fanfic #zzz fanfiction #zzz x reader #zzz x you #zenless zone zero x reader #zenless zone zero x you

160 notes · View notes

miryum · 8 months ago

Text

The Canary and the Robin (Jason Todd x Reader)

Summary: You find Jason being tortured by the Joker and decided to take him in, imperfections and all. If he happens to be your soulmate, so be it

Warnings: I know reader acts like a white person in a horror movie but bear with me, OOC Talia, descriptions of torture, Joker hurting Jason, descriptions of flashbacks of torture, allusions to sexual assault from the Joker unto Jason but not descriptive at all, panic attack, ignore locations and timelines, timer soulmates once they turn 8, swearing, a lotta angst (literally starts out with Jason’s funeral), but happy ending, hurt/comfort, Jason doesn’t have guns or an autopsy scar in this cause he’s Robin still and lemme tell you it’s so unnatural for me to write him without those, perspective switching, conscious wording (so everything is written like that for a reason), Jason’s awful parents and their drinking and harassment (just descriptions on them yelling and drinking and smoking), spoilers to Great Gatsby, kinda open ended, but also not at all? if that makes sense, lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 12k so grab some snacks and tissues

Canary in a coal mine is a common term meant to describe something that’s unusually sensitive to conditions that make it a useful early indicator of negatively changing circumstances.

Jason’s funeral was on May 16th, just eight months after he had been taken by the Joker. Alfred had chosen daisies, lilacs, and lotuses for the flowers, but Bruce brought a bouquet of hyacinths to lay on his son’s casket. As much as Bruce Wayne liked to flaunt his wealth, these hyacinths were hand pulled from his own gardens. Roots and dirts still clung to the end of the stems when Jason’s coffin was lowered into the ground.

Dick had come in from Bludhaven. When he had heard the news, his timer stopped and reversed itself until it added a year and a half onto his time. He had just gotten a brother and had been learning how to be a role model when his brother was dragged away from him, kicking and screaming. It wasn’t fair, Dick kept repeating to himself. A teenager shouldn’t be targeted just because he eagerly trailed on Batman’s heels, snarky comebacks and smirks ready to fire.

There was a public funeral where paparazzi clicked away at their cameras and Bruce stood stoically in the front row, clearing his throat at the podium when he had to make a eulogy. There was then a private funeral where the casket was actually lowered beneath a gladiolus bush. There were no eulogies for none of the family could bring themselves to say much. It was just Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Barbara. Selina Kyle showed up that night in Bruce’s room and Dick pretended not to hear Bruce’s sobs. Alfred stood in the doorway of Jason’s old room, feather duster in hand. After a couple of minutes, he hung his head and walked off, closing the door behind him. Nothing was cleaned.

The next day, tabloids displayed the pictures of Bruce Wayne standing by a casket. Bruce stopped investing in any companies that did. His own stock dropped, but Bruce wasn’t answering his financial advisor’s calls. He wasn’t answering any calls.

It was late one night and Dick couldn’t sleep. He had been wanting to return to Bludhaven, but whenever he opened his suitcase, he couldn’t bring himself to pack. He found Alfred in the kitchen, pouring some hot tea. “I figured you would join me one night,” Alfred commented without looking back.

Dick couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his eyes. “Your sixth sense is never wrong, Alfred.”

Alfred slid a cup over to Dick who took it thankfully, not caring that the tea burnt his tongue. Perhaps it was what he deserved for not being there to help Jason. “I should’ve-”

“Mister Grayson,” Alfred cut him off. “The Joker was ten steps ahead of Batman. Not even the powerful Nightwing could’ve helped. And you could not have flown to Africa in time.”

“It was closed casket,” Dick whispered out. “I didn’t even get to see my little brother before he was gone.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.

“It was closed casket because Master Wayne couldn’t find Master Jason’s…” Alfred exhaled and corrected himself, “He couldn’t find Master Jason.”

Dick’s head lifted and his hands clenched around his cup. “What?” he breathed out. Desperation filled his voice, “but Alfie, he could still be out there! Jason could be alive!” Alfred simply gave him a stern look and Dick’s stomach bubbled with nausea. “Yeah,” he muttered bitterly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” His jaw tensed and after a moment, he decided, “I’m going to go back to Bludhaven tomorrow.”

“Safe travels,” is all Alfred said.

It was then that Bruce woke from a nightmare of his dead son screaming out for him.

~~~~

You hadn’t meant to be passing by Arkham Asylum. It wasn’t something one did intentionally; in fact, many people went out of their way to avoid it. But it seemed as if fate wasn’t on your side today, for when your car broke down right outside Arkham Asylum, you didn’t notice the watch on your wrist ticking down quicker and quicker. You swore to yourself and took the mace out of your glove compartment before sliding your keys in between your fingers. Arkham Asylum had been practically abandoned for years, but perhaps there was a janitor or receptionist who could help you get service. Then you could call a mechanic and get the hell out of there.

The gates to Arkham had rust creeping up the edges and the lock clanged sharply against its chains. Maybe there wasn’t going to be a receptionist in the building… But perhaps there would be a phone you could use. In order for the gates to creak open, you had to force your bodyweight against the metal and try to shove the lock out of the way, praying you didn’t get tetanus in the process.

The door to Arkham, however, swung open without a sound. It seemed as if someone had been regularly visiting the Asylum, even if there was no one to visit – or love – in the building. “Hello?” you stage whispered, phone flashlight on, and finger on the button on your mace.

There was clearly a reason why the public wasn’t exposed to Arkham. All reports were classified and no photographers were allowed in. Wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, you stared around at Arkham Asylum. The halls were long and dark, meant to cause paranoia and confusion. It was certainly working on you. The only light peeking through was from the grime covered windows and your flashlight. The ceiling was crumbling slightly and you were pretty sure Arkham had been under construction when it had been abandoned; otherwise, how could you explain all the dust, debris, and graffiti? You didn’t even want to think of the disease-carrying rodents that were surely scurrying underneath your feet.

“Is anything here? That can help me?” Your voice echoed down the cell block, vibrating off the metal bars and old bunks.

You reeled back when your foot kicked a pebble, sending it ricocheting off your sneaker. After the pebble settled some yards away, you took in a steadying breath. You heard a faint sound, one that didn’t sound at all like a pebble. “Hello?” you asked again. Shadows danced around as you shone your flashlight down the hall, messing with your mind.

When you strained your ears, it sounded as if a faint wail could be heard. Your brows furrowed with worry and instinctively, you started towards it. Your watch ticked down faster as disquietude and anxiety rippled through you like snakes, biting and twisting in your veins. Your flashlight bounced over empty, desolate cells as your pace quickened and the screams got louder. You contemplated calling the police, but when you checked your phone, you didn’t have any service. And who knew if the police would help or not? Arkham was a place only the brave or stupid went; right now, you were pretty sure you were the latter.

The screams took you deeper and deeper into the Asylum and you prayed that you would be able to find your way out. If you ever got out… your mind immediately thought.

It wasn’t long before the blood curdling howls shook you to your bones. They seemed to be coming from a cell, yet when you pointed your flashlight towards it, heart thumping at what you might find, there was nothing. But the screams were there. You weren’t making them up. Where the hell were they coming from– oh.

A shiver ran up your spine when you noticed the comical trapdoor in the corner of the cell. You wondered if the Arkham architects intentionally put it there when they were designing this horror house, or if an inmate had scraped a hidden passageway with a spoon they stole from the cafeteria.

Nonetheless, when you pried open the door, a wall of whimpers and cries from torture hit you full force. You shook your head, steeling yourself, before swallowing down the queasiness. The goosebumps on your arms were full-time residents now.

Your feet carried you down the dirt steps of the trapdoor. Your mind wasn’t particularly your own. Your brain was foggy. Your body felt like a child had taken your hand and was leading you down the steps. Later in your life, when you thought back to that moment, you knew the universe had been guiding you. But even if you didn’t make it out of Arkham Asylum, you knew your life was going to drastically change. The nonexistent hand squeezed yours in comfort as your heart jumped and pounded when the faint light at the bottom of the stairs grew brighter.

A small chamber resided under Arkham Asylum, as you found out that day. In the chamber were two people. One held a crowbar dripping with blood. His back was turned to you, but any citizen of Gotham would recognise that pastel green and purple suit anywhere. The Joker was alive.

But the second person caught your eye. He was strung up from the ceiling, crusty, brown chains trapping him midair. The red outfit he was wearing was being held together by tatters, but you didn’t know if the outfit was originally red or covered with blood. A black and yellow cape was clinging onto the victim’s back, burnt and torn. A green utility belt had been thrown in the corner, its pockets overturned and emptied.

And your timer buzzed against your wrist.

You didn’t register it at first, but after a moment of incessant buzzing, you tore your horrified stare away from the ruined man and to your wrist. A crude joke bounced into your head: so either my soulmate is the Joker or someone who wronged him… Either way, not ideal.

The Joker stood proud and tall, shoulders thrown back and grin wide. “Come on, Robby,” he taunted. “You and I both know these little excursions of ours go better when you make noise. How I love to make you sing…”

It was then you registered the Robin symbol on the man’s breast. You slowly pieced everything together, realising that the person in front of you was the presumably dead Robin. You couldn’t help the little, amazed curse word that slipped out from between your lips.

The Joker slid out a syringe from his pocket and slunk up beside Robin, injecting the green serum into his neck. Joker chuckled as he pressed the liquid further into Robin’s neck, whispering into his ear, “now, now, you mustn’t leave me, Robby. But whatever would you leave for? Now that the Bats has forgotten you.” Joker was mercilessly teasing the sidekick, spit flicking onto his cheek. Robin whimpered, a parched and cracked noise from the back of his throat.

“Louder, Robby, louder!” The Joker coaxed in a cooing voice. You grimaced and wanted to crawl out of your skin at his voice. Once you realised your mace wasn’t going to do you any good, your eyes darted around the small torture dungeon. Eventually, they landed on a discarded, bent pipe that had a disturbing red colour coated on. You willed yourself not to think of what the substance was.

Even though Robin’s limp, swinging body was facing towards you, you doubted he could see you. With the drugs running through his veins, his vision would surely be blurred and his mind muddled.

It was just your luck when, as you were inching towards the pipe, your phone decided to work and began buzzing loudly, indicating a call from your friend, Talia. The Joker whirled around, crowbar in hand and you squealed, grabbing the pipe. Before the Joker could react, his eyes widening in shock, you swung the pipe at his head. With the clang of metal against skull, the Joker collapsed, unconscious. You stared down at him, disbelief flooding your body. Oh my god, I just killed the Joker. Or, at the very least, gave him a good concussion. Your hands shook as a little pool of blood seeped out from Joker’s head. You dropped the pipe and it clattered to the dirt floor. A little groan that escaped Robin and your still-ringing phone brought you back to Earth.

“Shit, shit, I gotta get outta here,” you muttered, looking around frantically. Your phone kept ringing and with a swear, you brought it to your ear. “What?” you growled out.

“Wow, what has your panties in a twist?” Talia asked back snarkily.

You held your phone between your shoulder and your head as you hurried towards Robin. “Nothing, nothing, sorry,” you muttered as you attempted to free him from the chains. “Why’re you calling?”

“Why are you so stressed? You sound like you just ran a marathon,” Talia said through the phone. You could envision her checking her nails while doing so.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You finally got Robin’s wrists to slip from the chains and he fell down onto you. You grunted under his weight. Apparently, just because he had been starved and tortured for months didn’t mean he had lost his superhero muscle.

Talia paused for a moment and you could practically hear the gears in her brian turning. “Do you need me to help hide a body?” she asked suddenly.

You laughed nervously as you shifted Robin to your shoulder and began dragging him towards the steps. “No?” you finally answered. “Though if you wanted to meet me by Arkham Asylum with your working car and a cure for an almost dead superhero, that would be great.”

“I will be there in twenty minutes.”

~~~~

“How did this happen?” Talia demanded, more curiosity in her voice than malice and anxiety. You were in her passenger seat, staring at the wounded Robin who was laid in the back. Talia weaved through traffic with ease, headed towards the Yuyan Building.

“I don’t know!” you cried out, panic infusing itself into your blood. It felt similar to the way the Joker had infused serum into Robin. You clutched at the seatbelt, hoping it would take some of your dread. “My car just stopped working and then I was just going into Arkham Asylum like an idiot and I found the dead Robin! He was supposed to be dead, right? It was all over the news!”

“And then Batman got another Robin,” Talia added, almost bitterly. You shot her a confused look and she glanced over at you. Her eyes flickered down to your wrist before you yelled at her to focus on the road again. “You are a rational person, Y/n,” Talia began as the car screeched to a halt outside an imposing, ornate building. You stared up at it as Talia got out of the car. You scrambled to help her with Robin. The two of you each had one of his arms over your shoulders, his feet scraping along the ground, head lolling to the side, as you carried him in. “I do not think you would go into Arkham Asylum without something else guiding you,” Talia continued. “Do not think I did not notice your stopped timer. He is your soulmate, is he not?”

You nodded, not trusting your words. You were worried you would start crying if you actually had a moment to process all of the day’s events. “Will your dad help?” you asked finally, voice wavering.

Talia chuckled dryly, eyes narrowing on a fixed point ahead of you. She led you and Robin deeper into Yuyan Building. “If it gets on Batman’s good side? Absolutely.”

“I’ll take him after you’re done healing him,” you added quickly. “I’ll take him back home and care for him if you and your dad help me this one time.” You realised it sounded like you were begging for help. Briefly, you wondered what had happened in such a short time to make you care so much for Robin. Part of you decided it was what any rational, kind human being would do – help someone who was badly hurt – but another part of you knew that wasn’t the case. You felt tied to this boy you didn’t even know the name of. Whether it was through your soulmate bond or not, you knew you were connected to Robin. You felt his pain and terror. Even though he was unconscious, you could feel his resistance tugging against you. He didn’t want to go with you. He was scared of what you might do to him. His emotions dug into you and you felt a whimper crawling up your throat, begging for escape.

It was then you steeled yourself and decided one thing: you weren’t going to let your soulmate die.

Yuyan Building held deeper secrets, you realised. Talia directed you down long hallways and steep stairwells and you felt bad for the custodians who had to clean up Robin’s trail of blood. It was long minutes, full of you groaning under Robin’s weight and Talia looking unaffected, before Talia stopped at a large, ominous door.

You couldn’t look Ra’s in the eye as he slung Robin into the Lazarus Pit. You could only watch the bubbling green liquid as Robin slowly sunk to the bottom. Agonising minutes ticked by, halted only by Ra’s and Talia whispers to each other.

You hugged yourself tightly after five minutes passed and you called anxiously to Talia, “do- does he need help? Is he hurting? Why is it taking so long?”

“He had a lot of injuries, Y/n,” Talia reassured you, coming to place a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “He will be okay.”

Yeah. He’ll be okay.

~~~~

Jason’s eyes burned. Green was all that he could see. He tried to breathe in, but the only thing that filled his lungs was the green surrounding him. When the liquid filled his lungs and he coughed out, bubbles trailed up to the surface like a safety rope guiding the way.

Jason stretched a hand out in front of him, muscles aching at disuse. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to run away, would we, Robby?” The Joker’s voice called after him as Jason kicked his feet futilely. “Not our little prince!”

A flitting feeling coursed through Jason: curiosity and concern, but he was too weak to form a thought. His arm, reaching out towards the bubbles that led him upward, didn’t look like his own. He remembered the scars criss-crossing along it and he remembered the dirt and grime infecting cuts and burns, even digging its way underneath his nails, but he didn’t remember looking so… strong. Since when did he have the muscles and veins that looked like years of exercise had paid off? Batman had kept him fit – Robin needed to be able to hold his own, but he didn’t quite remember it working so well.

His hand finally breached the top of the green waves, grasping up towards breathable air and safety.

Green. Like the Joker. Another one of his charades. A playing card, to show Jason he wasn’t free yet. He was never free.

Everything was disillusioning. His vision veered sideways before becoming foggy and nausea crashed through Jason, like the waves in which he was trying to fight against.

“Stop struggling!” he heard someone cry out, “you’re making your own waves! You have to swim.”

He saw someone reaching out towards him and without a second thought, Jason extended his bandaged hand, clinging onto the buoy in the storm. Their hand was soft and comforting and dragged him out of the water. Jason allowed himself to be dragged. He didn’t have the energy to fight the Joker. He had given up much too long ago.

“What did you do to him?” someone asked once Jason fell to the ground. The world spun around him and he couldn’t recognise whomever was speaking. He gasped in desperate air, filling his deprived lungs.

“Take in a good, deep breath, Robby. Smell that blood? It’s yours. A reminder that Bats isn’t gonna come save you. Doesn’t it smell delicious?” The Joker hissed at him, inhaling himself. He cackled and licked his lips. “You’re a sweet little bird, aren’t you?”

“Why does he look like that?” the same voice asked. Jason heard a small thud over the ringing in his ears.

“The Lazarus Pit not only receives, but it returns, ten times stronger,” a deep voice explained. “It takes what it has been given, and it blossoms it into its full potential. What it needs to become.”

Jason flinched away from the hands that rested on him. The hands retreated and Jason wondered what new tactic the Joker was trying. The Joker never retreated.

The voices were getting more frantic and his heartbeat seemed amplified. As Jason was slowly lifted up, he passed out.

~~~~

The next time Jason woke up, the first thing he noticed was the clock. There was a digital clock on a small table beside him, green numbers staring unblinkingly up at him. Green as in the Joker. Clock as in a bomb. Does he want me to defuse the bomb? Or is it all a trick? The Joker never let me see any clocks. Time was a valuable construct, one the Joker used to his advantage. If Jason didn’t know how much time had passed, the Joker could stretch the days and the torture.

It took Jason a moment to blink the sleep from his mind. Then, he let his eyes flick around the room as his body stayed perfectly still. It was a tactic he learned from Batman – never let anyone know you were awake. He could categorise helpful information for later, such as possible escape routes, and if the Joker didn’t know he was awake quite yet, there would be less time for torture.

The former Robin was in a room. He didn’t recognise it and that scared Jason more than he would ever admit. There was a dresser opposite him with pictures on it. He couldn’t quite make out who was in the pictures, but it didn’t quite matter yet. A closet door was closed and next to it stood a tall mirror that had a blanket thrown over it. A small bookshelf sat beside him and when Jason had the mental capacity, he couldn’t help but feel the pull to read the titles. It smelled better than anything in a long time. Instead of urine and festering skin, this place smelled like lavender and vanilla.

It was only then Jason realised he was laying on a bed. And there were no restraints tying him down to it.

What new tactic was this? What scheme was the Joker pulling? What game did he want Jason to play? What was the objective? The trick Jason had to uncover to live another day?

Green and purple and yellow whirled around Jason and he gripped his head, begging the colours to stop. Carnival music played loudly in his ears, that same damn tune for the past thirty six hours.

Strapped to a chair, there was nowhere to escape the Joker’s mind games. Jason had been sedated more times than he could count and dragged to new locations where the Joker found new ways to torment him. Today’s lucky special was the Joker’s old hideout at the abandoned carnival.

It wasn’t long before the Joker’s voice rang out from within hidden speakers. “Show me those street smarts, Robby! Play with me. Maybe I’ll let you go…” he jeered and inveigled.

The spinning stopped and Jason planted his feet on the ground. His head dipped and his mouth hung open, eyes crossed and half-lidded. The Joker stood before him, leaning on his crowbar. “Ah, ah, ah,” the Joker tsked. “You're losing your touch, Robby.” The Joker ran his tongue over his teeth, lips curling up in a tantalising grin before lifting the crowbar back.

Jason didn’t hear anything before he blacked out.

It had seemed that he had blacked out in real life too, for the time had advanced three hours and the sun had sunk in the sky. Next to the clock was a tall glass of water and a small plate of crackers. Two pills of unassuming tylenol sat nearby.

Someone had been in here, Jason realised. The thought made his skin crawl and he quickly flung off the sheets, not used to the feeling of cotton. After a quick analysis of his body, even though his skin was already wrecked and flayed, there weren't the telltale nail marks on his thighs that the Joker had been there in his sleep. The only thing out of the ordinary were the bandages and cleaned wounds. His armour was nowhere to be seen and he had been stuffed into pyjama pants and a shirt that seemed a bit tight.

Panic flashed through his spine and Jason flung his legs over the mattress. He promptly collapsed and his knees ached at the impact. It took a moment of forcing his lungs open and letting oxygen flow through his system once more until he was able to crawl pathetically towards the covered mirror. His fingers twisted around the sheet and dragged it downward, letting it pool on the floor and around his legs.

Staring back at him wasn’t his face. It was the face of someone who had lived ten more years and seen fifty more years of battle.

Jason promptly swung his fist at the glass, shattering the mirror and letting the shards rain down. But he could still see his reflection. Jason forced his eyes away from the unfamiliar face and the scars he could feel burning into his skin.

Just a trick of the Joker. That’s all it ever was. He was never free and never more would believe so. Everything was consumed by that pale skin, green hair, and purple nails. Everything was a mind game followed by excruciating pain.

His gaze drifted back to the water and crackers. It could be tainted. But the Joker also needed him alive to continue their games. There was always a grace period for Jason to heal before the next session began.

He limped back to the bed, downed the water, not daring to touch the pills, and fell back onto the pillow. He shifted and adjusted the pillow. It felt uncomfortable. He threw it to the other side of the room before rubbing at his aching wrists. His skin there was red and irritated, not used to being out of chains. That was unusual, when Jason truly thought about it. The Joker knew how powerful Jason was. Jason had even managed to escape his chains once, back when he was healthy and convinced Batman would come and rescue him. But a bullet to the malnourished stomach was enough to stop anyone.

He kept massaging his hands until his fingers skirted over the bare skin of the inside left wrist. It felt like something should be there. Something was missing.

“Well well well,” Joker’s voice crooned in his ear. The man’s fingers curled around Jason's wrist. Long fingers tapped a tune on the proud watch that sat on Jason’s skin, ticking like a heartbeat. “Does our little Robby have a soulmate?”

The boy’s muscles tensed, protesting against the Joker for the first time in weeks. He had been trying to keep the watch hidden for as long as possible, but he should’ve known it was futile.

“But who on earth could love you?” The Joker questioned deridingly.

Jason’s cracked lips parted and he forced a “no” from his parched throat. “Don’t.”

The Joker giggled – a high pitched, ugly sound that would haunt Jason’s nightmare’s for years to come. “Oh… and have you met your true love yet?”

“Stop it.” Jason wiggled away from the Joker’s searing grip but nothing helped.

The psychopath’s nails embedded crescents into Robin's skin as he forced his wrist around. “No no no,” the Joker tsked as he watched the clock inch down towards zero. “You haven’t met them yet… what?” He turned back towards Jason, eyes wide with fake innocence. “You think they’re gonna come save you, Robby?” A burst of laughter bubbled from the murderer. “Never,” he hissed in Jason’s ear, making the boy cringe away, his chains swinging with him.

A sob crawled its way up Jason’s lungs as the Joker grabbed his chains, steadying him, before licking a stripe up Jason’s cheek, leaving behind saliva and horrid breath. The Joker then licked his lips, relishing in the taste of Robin’s blood and tears.

“You really think you deserve anyone?” The Joker whispered in his ear, more serious than Jason had ever seen him. His fist clenched around Jason’s watch and the boy let out a whimper. “You don’t.” The glass cracked under the Joker’s force. “Deserve shit.” He ripped the soulmate watch from Jason and threw it to the ground. The delicate watch sprang open and the timer stopped in its tracks.

Jason let out a guttural scream as the Joker ground the glass into the dirt with his heel.

~~~~

A loud thump yanked Jason out of sleep. A sharp feminine yelp followed and Jason was instantly on his feet, no matter the spots that danced in his vision.

A small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Alfred chastised him for not staying in bed and letting his body heal. “Master Jason, how are you supposed to fight crime if you can’t even walk straight?”

Nevertheless, Jason pushed open the door, raggedly breathing and clutching his side. He was sure he looked like a serial killer of some sort, blood staining through his bandages and hair sloppily matted to his forehead from sweat.

A girl stared at him from across the room. She was smaller than him, was what Jason noticed first. He then noticed her eyes. They were a striking colour and seemed to bore into him, knowing his every want and desire. They were cautious, yet Jason thought he imagined excitement running deep within the girl.

“Who’re you?” Jason mumbled out, leaning heavily against the doorframe.

The girl took a breath and said, “I’m Y/n.” A blanket was curled around her feet, much like the blanket that Jason had snatched from the mirror hours earlier. Her hair was a bit messy and Jason categorised a pillow propped up against the armrest of the couch.

“How’re you—” Jason cut himself off and shook his head. “What’re your… Who…” he struggled to find a question that encapsulated everything while not giving too much away about himself.

Y/n took a step closer, almost as if he was a wild animal that she didn’t want to startle. It didn’t work; Jason stumbled back over his feet and back into the bedroom. Y/n didn’t follow. “I was at Arkham Asylum three days ago and found you.”

“What were you doing there?” Jason demanded, his words slurred.

“My car broke down,” Y/n explained easily, though Jason didn’t believe her one bit. “I was looking for help and… found you instead. I had to call a friend for help.”

Jason was done with pleasantries. Alfred had frowned upon swearing, and the boy had quickly learned not to use the words he had heard on the street or the insults villains spat at Batman once they were in handcuffs. But he wasn’t standing next to Batman in bright spandex anymore. He was bleeding through someone else’s clothes and he wasn’t in his own body and there was a girl who was wearing a dark green sweatshirt and green reminded him of the Joker. “Bullshit,” he growled out. His voice didn’t have that prepubescent squeak to it anymore and his veined hand reached up to massage his throat.

Y/n’s brows stitched together and she stared up at him, slipping the cuffs of her sweater over her hands. “No. It’s not bullshit. I promise,” she said, her voice saccharine. “Look, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days, trying to sleep off that poison the Joker put in you, I’m sure.”

Jason flinched back so hard that he stepped back onto the glass shards from the mirror. It cut into his heel and he winced, blood already leaking from the wound.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Y/n exclaimed, crouching down and then standing back up quickly. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to help you with that? Why don’t you sit on the bed and I’ll grab some bandaids.” Y/n hurried away out of the bedroom and Jason stood still.

Help.

Help you.

“You’re gonna help me win back Batman, Robby,” the Joker whispered in his ear, spit flicking on his face. “You are vital. You will be his downfall.”

Help.

Help me.

Y/n came back, shaking Jason out of the parallels. “You’re not on the bed,” she commented. Jason’s feet automatically moved towards the bed — he knew better than to argue with the Joker, but then he remembered he wasn’t with the Joker. This was a girl who looked like one strong look would have her cowering beneath him, especially if he actually had the physique he saw in the now-broken mirror.

“Who are you,” he repeated his question from earlier, turning back to look at her.

“Y/n,” the girl reiterated, head tilting slightly.

“No.” Jason shook his head. “Who are you. Who do you work for?”

Y/n’s brows scrunched together in confusion and she said, “well, my boss is named Marlene, if that’s what you’re asking. But I don’t see how that’s particularly relevant.”

Jason’s chest rose and fell and he brought his hand up to claw at it. “Liar,” he hissed out. “You… you liar!” A yell curled its way up through him and his nails scratched at his throat, trying to tear this unfamiliar voice from him. Who was he? This wasn’t Jason Todd, the broken boy from Crime Alley. This was someone much more dangerous and unpredictable. Batman had always taught Jason how to analyse plans and choose the one with the highest success rate. But this was a different Jason. This Jason was a tornado, sweeping through every emotion he didn’t know how to handle.

He saw green. And that only reminded him of the years spent under the Asylum.

Jason tore the sheets from the bed. He shoved things off the bedside table and consequently the lamp fell, its bulb shattering and then flickering out. The room was plunged into darkness. The only source of light was from the barely rising sun, peeking its rays into the window and bathing the edges of the room with pink and orange and yellow.

The light danced across Y/n’s face as she stared around at the damage Jason was inflicting. Pity and guilt ran rampant on her face and she didn’t stop him.

Jason moved throughout the room, the only things he spared being the dresser and the bookshelf.

After some time, he collapsed onto the floor, heaving in breaths. It wasn't long before he slowly leaned back to lay down. Y/n carefully sat down next to him, staying a good couple feet away. "I know you don't trust me," she said. She slipped her sleeve down her wrist, tucking in her hands. The outline of a watch pressed against the fabric and Jason stared at it numbly and unthinking. "But my name is Y/n. I work at the Gotham Gazette. My boss's name is Marlene. She's pretty nice and I'm up for a raise soon. I've lived in Gotham my whole life, even while my brother moved away the first chance he got. I've contemplated leaving for a long time, but I could never bring myself to do it." She pointed to a picture that sat on her dresser – one of the only things Jason hadn't destroyed. "That's him. My brother."

Jason didn't move his head to look. His green vision began to fade.

“When I was growing up I had a fish. His name was Captain Sparkles,” Y/n kept on talking. “He was pretty cool and lived a long time for a fish. Two years, if you’re interested. I’m going to Gotham University and studying English so I can hopefully move up the line of command at the Gazette. My parents are chill and are empty nesters with two dogs out in the countryside. My dad always pledged never to get a dog, but now I’m pretty sure they’re ahead of me in the will.” She chuckled and tugged at her hair.

Jason turned on his side away from her and he missed her eyes trailing after him sadly. Y/n swallowed and blinked away the sting of impending tears.

“I have a little routine going,” Y/n continues, her voice cracking slightly. “You know, wake up, go to class — I’m a sophomore — come home and do homework. When I don’t have class, I go to work.” The girl wraps her arms around her knees and tucks her chin in. “What I’m trying to get at, I guess, is that I don’t work for the Joker.”

Jason flinched and cradled his head in his hands. Everything Y/n was telling him seemed true; she didn’t seem like an agent of the Joker, but his mind screamed at him to not trust anybody. Each syllable she spoke seemed like a reminder of how normal he was supposed to be. Day in and day out, when the Joker was pushing Jason’s limits, pulling him to the brink of death, Jason had wished to be normal. To not have met Batman that fateful day. To not have accepted the Robin pedestal. To go to high school and college and live in a dorm and get drunk and then regret it the next day.

What he would give to be normal.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n muttered. “I didn't mean to say his name. I know it must be triggering.” She exhaled and was silent for a moment. “I’ll go,” she eventually whispered. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Jason heard her stand and move to the door. No! Please don’t go. I- I can’t be alone. I don’t know how to be alone. But the words didn’t come.

The door clicked shut behind Y/n. Tears made their way down Jason’s face and his body shook with the effort to keep silent.

I would rather you torture me than make me be alone, he thought. My thoughts are more dangerous than any weapon.

~~~~

For all of Jason’s life, soulmates had always been in his realm of knowledge. Like bombs. He had heard the word in the news, playing with whatever he had scavenged off the street, his mom smoking on the couch behind him, TV blaring.

But children are oblivious and it wasn’t until later in his life that he figured out what the words meant. ‘Bombs’ became synonymous with Gotham City and ‘soulmate’ became a word Jason held close to his heart.

Everyone had a soulmate and it was common for the kids on the playground to compare their numbers ticking down. Younger children, who had yet to get their timer, gazed wistfully at older kids’ watches. Rumours of someone’s timer speeding up or slowing down blistered around the jungle gym and it chilled young Jason’s blood with the thought of not getting to meet his soulmate soon enough.

But besides those insignificant bouts of worry, Jason was very proud of his soulmate. He would be running around the playground and when he heard someone bragging about how soon they would meet their soulmate, Jason would stop the game of tag and go over to compare numbers.

Not everyone was as lucky as him, however. Some kids would be teased because their timer estimated that they wouldn’t meet the love of their life until they were on the brink of death. While Jason never stood up for the victim, he would never be the one to bully them. His own mom had smashed her timer when she met Jason’s deadbeat dad, wanting to defy the universe and choose her own lover. It had only led to jail time, alcohol, and negligence. Sometimes, late at night, Jason would wonder what happened to his mom’s true soulmate. Were they still out there with a paused timer, wondering who didn’t think them good enough? Did they also think they could find answers at the bottom of a bottle or did they pick themselves up and reroute their life?

What would’ve his life been like if he had two parents who loved each other and were destined to be together?

But whenever Jason was feeling down, or he got a bad grade (which didn’t happen often), or he was beaten up in the alleyways of Gotham, or his mom smashed a bottle by his head and screamed at him, he would cast his eyes down to his soulmate timer and just remember that someone out there was for him. That someone was fated to love him. And very early on, from the moment he realised what having a soulmate actually meant, Jason decided that he would wait for however long it took and go through whatever it meant to find them.

“Whose clothes are these?” Jason whispered, his voice cracked and desolate the next time Y/n came into the room to offer him the little food he could stomach.

“My brother’s,” she answered easily, setting down the plate of toast and some other easy food. “I thought they would be a bit big on you, but then the Lazarus Pit made you ginormous, so they’re a bit tight now. Sorry.”

“Lazarus Pit?” Jason pushed himself to sit up, muscles groaning in protest.

“I don’t know how much you remember,” Y/n admitted. “But once I got you out of Arkham, I brought you to my friend Talia. She has some… powerful connections to some influential people and was able to help heal you in the Lazarus Pit. I just didn’t know how much it would alter you.”

“That explains a lot,” Jason admitted dryly, thinking of his new physique, emotions, and tinted vision when he had gotten mad.

Y/n leaned against her dresser. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to help, but I needed to. You were going to die and I need…” she trailed off and her eyes flicked down to her wrist.

“You need what?”

“I couldn’t let someone die,” Y/n finally decided on.

Jason accepted her answer. He felt a small tug at his chest, almost as if something wasn’t right and he wanted to correct it. “What’s…” His eyes trailed to her lap where she held her hands. His jaw twitched and he shook his head. “Never mind.”

“You can ask me anything,” Y/n offered, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. Jason’s eyes widened when he saw her smile and his heart fluttered. Jason decided that, even if he didn’t trust Y/n yet, he would do whatever it took to keep that smile on her face.

“No, I have nothing– I’m good– no–”

“Spit it out, Robby. What do you want to tell your darling Joker? What are your… worries? Your concerns? Your dear Uncle Ace?” The Joker circled around an exhausted Jason. “Trust me. You can tell me anything…” His speech was slow and intoxicating. Alluring, was the word Jason would use to describe it. It was tugging him in. Jason’s eyes slipped down into sleep just as another needle pierced its way into his skin, courtesy of the Joker.

Jason dug his nails into the palm of his hand over and over, fingers twitching over his cuticles. His face started to heat up and he swallowed roughly, blinking slowly. “I’m okay,” he mumbled out, even though Y/n didn’t ask.

“Do you need me to leave?” she offered.

Jason dragged his head back and forth, attempting to shake it. Eventually, it lolled back and banged against the wall. “Sorry, what?”

Y/n stood up on instinct. “Robin?”

The title sent lightening up Jason’s spine and his gaze snapped up to stare at her, fuming. “Don’t- don’t call me that!” he screamed out. “I’m not! Stop it!”

Dearest Robin. How Batman will miss his little protégé.

Robby…

Robin!

“Let me go!” Jason shrieked. He wiped his hands on his shirt before reaching up and pulling at his hair. Everything felt wrong. “Why won’t you let me go?! Just give up,” he pleaded desperately. His eyes, wide and frantic, swept around the room until they settled on the shards of the mirror he had smashed.

His body was a graveyard.

It was only then that Jason truly comprehended how imperfect he was.

Scars trailed down his arms and legs and he could even see a smattering of them peeking out of the collar of his shirt. Each scar and bruise was a reminder of each thing the Joker had done to him.

Each scar is an adventure, Batman’s voice resonated in his head. An image of Batman patching up young Robin’s bloody nose flicked through Jason’s mind.

Each scar is a reminder you were never there for me, Jason thought bitterly. Each scar is a reminder that I’ll never be free of him. I’ll always be tied to the Joker. And that’s what terrifies me the most. That’s what makes me hate you, Batman.

“Okay, okay,” Y/n surrendered, holding her hands up. “I’ll leave. But I can’t let you go. It’s not safe yet.”

It was then that Jason drove his fist into the wall. Y/n made a little squeak of surprise and seemed to flinch.

She quickly left and Jason didn’t have time to feel bad before he crumpled onto the bed in exhaustion, bits of plaster now on the floor and sheets.

~~~~

Time after time again, the Joker visited him. The Clown Prince of Crime had grown bored with the relentless torture. There had been new tactics — he had to keep it interesting, of course — but even waterboarding hadn’t quelled the ache that the Joker felt after the boy had grown used to the whipping of chains against his skin, leaving the boy bruised and internally bleeding.

So it was time to pull out all the stops. The Joker strolled into the makeshift dungeon. Robin didn’t even look up at this point. “You look grim,” the Joker stated, pouting theatrically, even though his audience was a despairing one. He strolled over to the table where he kept all his instruments. “Which one, which one?” the Joker sang, running his fingers over the knives, corkscrews, ropes, and other devices to land on a pitcher of water.

Jason inhaled and exhaled slowly. The Joker poured a generous amount of water into a glass before lifting it to Jason’s lips and tilting it back. “There you go…” the Joker cooed, caressing Jason’s cheek. “Drink it all up like a good little boy.”

Jason’s chapped lips searched hungrily for the water, not caring what the Joker’s motive was. He was too thirsty to wonder.

It was only the first in a long line of drugs.

“I don’t know what to do, Talia,” a lilting, frustrated voice came from the other room, stirring Jason awake. He was sure that whenever he heard Y/n’s voice, he would snap to attention, ready to throw himself to his knees and execute whatever she commanded.

Woah. Where did that dedication come from?

Even when Jason assumed the title of Robin, there was never such blind complaisantness to what Batman ordered. He would always have some street-kid spunk in him.

So why was he feeling so utterly protective over Y/n? It had to be the fact that she saved him from the hellhole the Joker had carefully curated and manipulated. Didn’t it?

Or was it something else?

“No, I’ve been trying to do all my work online, and it’s been working, but I can only go so long before I have to go into the office or go to lectures.” Y/n listened to her friend for a long minute on the phone and Jason strained to hear them. “No, but I feel responsible – that’s the wrong word – but protective of him.” There was a pattering of feet as if Y/n was pacing. “This is kinda a big deal. There are movies and books written about this connection and yet, mine is huddled in my room, sleeping off drugs and the evidence of torture!” Her voice cracked up at the end and Jason physically stood up.

Bile rose up in his throat and Jason’s knees slammed to the ground, pain shooting up his bones and reverberating in his muscles. He cursed under his breath and pressed his head to the cool hardwood, trying to overcome his nausea.

Stars swirled in his vision and laughs echoed in his head. Jason mumbled words of encouragement to himself, but they were distorted and ugly. Like the Joker. Oh, how Jason dreaded the thought of becoming him. His forearms hit the floor and instead of the Joker’s words stabbing at his brain, it was a static frame of white noise, blocking out everything. Vision was the first thing to go, eyes squeezing out the late afternoon light. The second thing to leave Jason, as everything does, was time. Was it minutes or hours he sat on the floor before the door burst open?

Words were muted and Jason nodded when Y/n asked if she could touch him. Warm palms encased his jawline, thumbs brushing along his cheeks. “He’s not here,” Y/n whispered. “I’m here. Robi- no, tell me your name. Please.”

“Jason. My name is Jason.” Somehow, Y/n had eroded away his concern and distrust, replacing it with ease and invulnerability. He would never have thought it possible in such a short time, even without his history with the Joker.

Y/n exhaled a small laugh and a bright smile came to her face. Jason looked up at her, brain still buzzing. “What? What’s funny about that?” he managed to get out.

“Oh, no no no,” Y/n was quick to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to laugh. That was rude of me. I’m sorry.” One of her hands guided down to rest on his back, rubbing soft circles. In his anxious stupor, Jason curled up in front of her, instinctively resting his head on her lap. If he could see her face, he would’ve seen Y/n’s eyebrows shoot up with hopefulness. However, he definitely heard her intake of breath. “It’s a very nice name.”

“How- how does your boyfriend feel about me staying here?” Jason finally asked after a minute of him slowing his breathing.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Y/n said, sounding amused.

“But you have a soulmate timer,” Jason pointed out.

Y/n tilted her head, curiously. She didn’t think he had noticed that. One of her hands moved to Jason’s hair, gently brushing it back from his forehead. She ran her fingers through the white stripe which she had come to find very attractive. Tension left the boy’s shoulders and he tucked his head into her lap. “Everyone does,” Y/n replied. “It doesn’t mean I’ve found my soulmate yet.”

“Have you?”

“Yes…”

“Oh.”

Jason laid in her lap for a long minute and eventually asked her, “is he nice to you?”

Y/n laughed lightly, sighing a bit before saying, “he’s still getting to know me. He’s a very reserved and tentative person and we only met a little while ago. However, he’s been opening up pretty quickly and I’m very proud of him.” Her fingers tapped against Jason’s hair, curling the strands around her fingers before lightly scratching at his scalp with her nails. She noticed how his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when she did that. Tucking that information away for later, Y/n added, “he’s gone through a lot in the past and I just want to make him feel safe.”

Deep in his bones, Jason could almost feel her sadness and dedication. He wasn’t sure what magic had given him the power to be so in tune with this girl, but he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from him. Not even her soulmate.

Turning the conversation away from something that would surely wound him if he pried any deeper, Jason declared quietly, “I’m going to install some deadbolts and locks on your front door and windows soon.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s not safe for you to help me.” It never is for anyone. I’m a poison, infecting everyone I touch. “I want to make sure you’re safe before I leave.”

“Leave?” Y/n exclaimed, staring down at him. “No, you’re not ready to go yet.” A part of her was worried she was being selfish, wanting her soulmate as close to her as possible, but one look at the bandages she had just replaced the night before said otherwise. There was less blood than there had been days prior, but Jason was not in any condition to leave bed, much less leave the apartment.

“You can’t keep housing me forever, Y/n,” Jason muttered. “And I’ll be damned if I’m the reason you get hurt.” His head was still in her lap, but he couldn’t meet her eye. It was imperative that he play with the seams in his shirt.

Otherwise she might see him beginning to cry.

“Please leave,” he begged, voice breaking pitifully. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to argue, gently slipping out from her place underneath Jason and resting his head softly on the ground before closing the door behind her.

The nightmares were worse that night. ~~~~

True to his word, Jason ventured out into the apartment the next day like a zoo animal inspecting its new habitat. He crouched his shoulders, bowing his head in an attempt to diminish his size. He still wasn’t used to being so large and accidentally bumped into the kitchen counter and a lamp.

He was able to install the majority of the new locks and deadbolts until he slid the deadbolt of the front door closed. It whined and creaked beneath his fingers and his mind flashed back to when

Jason awoke slowly. A small groan left his lips, but he stayed still. It was a tactic he learned from Bruce – never let anyone know you were awake. He could categorise helpful information for later, such as possible escape routes, and it was quite possible that he was one movement away from death. He had to be careful.

But this wasn’t Africa. This wasn’t where Jason was desperately searching for his mother when Batman ran into the warehouse, seconds before the Joker let loose a bomb.

That’s all Jason could remember.

Blood was sticking his hair to his head and Jason clutched his side. It ached from bruised or broken ribs that pressed to his skin. However long he had been unconscious, it had been quite a while. His body was already malnourished and crying out for medical care.

Jason attempted to crawl to a standing position, but when his ankles and wrists caught against metal, restraining him, he knew something else was at play.

The whine and creak of a deadbolt unlocking caused him to turn his head towards a door he hadn’t noticed. A man in a pinstripe suit stepped through, a long crowbar in hand. Jason didn’t need the upturned red lips to know who was there.

“Oh, don’t worry, Robby,” the Joker coaxed as Jason stared up at him, pure terror gripping his veins. He had never been so close to the Joker without Bruce. Where was Bruce? Why wasn’t he here? The Joker squatted down to Jason’s level, running a gloved hand over the boy’s bloody hair. Jason flinched away, but it didn’t deter the Joker. “You and your Uncle Ace are going to have some real fun.”

“Where is he?” Jason sobbed, scared when he didn’t feel the blood on his hair. Why wasn’t he bleeding? What was the Joker’s new game?

“Where is who?” An unfamiliar voice asked despairingly.

“Bru— Batman,” Jason corrected himself in his stupor. “B-Batman.”

Y/n stuttered, “I don’t know Batman. I’m sorry.”

Jason groaned in pain before a hysterical laugh bubbled from him. He clutched his stomach, on all fours, eyes wide and clouding over with green. Must he always be connected to the Joker? If he could eradicate that damn colour, he would. His fingers ghosted over the place that the Joker threatened to brand him.

“Maybe I’ll make it permanent on our five year anniversary,” the Joker hummed, knife gently poking into Jason’s cheek. The faded scar of last month’s ‘J’ was what prompted the Joker to re-carve it into the boy. Blood dribbled down Jason’s cheek, joining his salty tears. It didn’t hurt, the wound being surface level, but just the thought of more things tied to the Joker made him gasp for air, crying softly.

“So you’ll always be reminded of who was the one to beat you. The Clown Prince of Crime!”

Y/n had barely noticed the ‘J’ until Jason dug his nail into his cheek, tracing the scar. The path was imprinted into his memory.

The skin turned red at the irritation and Y/n caught Jason’s wrist the next time he moved up to trace it again. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

Jason muttered things under his breath at her, but he didn’t pull away from her hold. “He branded me,” he finally spit out. “And it’s only because you found me that he didn’t carve it into my skull,” he said sarcastically, malice in his voice. His eyes blazed a fervent green and he shook his head. “But at least I knew what was coming. At least I knew that a month had passed when he redrew his initials.”

Y/n opened her mouth to argue, but Jason spoke before she could. “I… I’m worried,” he began slowly. “I’m becoming more of the Joker than I am Batman. I was supposed to look up to Batman, but what if he and the Joker are one and the same? Both hurt me. One abandoned me and the other took that for granted.”

“He didn’t mean to abandon you, I’m sure,” Y/n whispered. “No one would ever willingly abandon you.”

Jason grumbled out, groaning at her words. His lips twitched downwards and his biceps flexed. “No one? Everyone did!” he screamed out. “My parents, Batman, Alfred, Dick! Everyone abandoned me!”

Y/n ignored the last name Jason listed off, before murmuring, “I haven’t.”

“Not yet,” Jason whispered after a moment. “But you will.”

~~~~

A couple days later, Jason peeked out of Y/n’s room, one of her blankets in hand. “You deserve your room,” Jason mumbled when Y/n looked up from her book, astonished.

“I– Jason, you need the most comfort,” Y/n said, gently closing her book. “I’m fine on the couch.”

“You need to get back to work soon,” he said, hugging the blanket close. “You said it yourself. I can’t be the reason that you’re putting your life on hold. You- you need to get back to normal.”

“You are my nor–” Y/n cut herself off before exhaling slowly. “Don’t worry about me,” she began. “I’ve slept on the couch many nights when I had papers to complete or binge-watched too many episodes of The Good Place.”

Jason’s features softened slightly and he took a step forward. Y/n took the hint and scooted over on the couch, placing her book on the small coffee table she had. “What’re you reading?” he asked as Y/n turned on the television, opening up to the first episode of The Good Place.

“The Great Gatsby, for one of my English classes,” Y/n said.

“Really?” A smile slowly grew on Jason’s lips, something he hadn’t experienced in years. His muscles ached a bit from the disuse, but Jason was now addicted to the feeling.

Y/n decided that she was now also addicted to the sight of Jason smiling. “Yeah. We’re covering the symbolism of water that spans throughout the book. In fact, in the first couple of pages, Fitzgerald references the White Star Line, which is a boat that sank on the same route as the Titanic. Gatsby, obviously, dies in the water, sinking, just as those boats did. Fitzgerald really is an excellent writer.”

Jason was pretty sure he was in love. Or maybe he still was on drugs. Whatever the feeling, it was nice and unexpected and new.

“I do think you’ll like The Good Place,” Y/n continued. “I won’t spoil anything, but it has some pretty amazing underlying themes.”

“I’m sure,” Jason replied quietly, burrowing under the blanket. It didn’t quite manage to hide his large frame, but it managed to hide his quickening heart and blush that was slowly spreading.

Just before the first episode started, Y/n quickly hurried to make some popcorn. She plunked the bowl in between the pair and then snatched some blanket away from Jason. “You run hot,” she explained when Jason shot her a bemused look.

The Good Place was a wonderful show, as Jason soon learned, but what was more wonderful was when Y/n’s cheek pressed against his shoulder and her knees curled up and her eyes fluttered closed. When her breath slowed with sleep, subconsciously trusting him enough to be at her most vulnerable, that, Jason found out, was what was truly wonderful.

Bruce Wayne had never before seen a street rat more excited to see Batman, especially when that street kid was trying to steal from him.

But what was particularly amusing was that the boy wasn’t particularly excited to see him, but more excited to show Batman his soulmate timer.

“No! No, you don’t understand!” the boy cried ecstatically. “It just fast-forwarded! Meeting you means I get to meet my soulmate sooner!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eagerly shoving his wrist towards Batman’s cowl, showing the vigilante his timer.

“Yes, very… exciting,” Bruce hummed out, not sure whether to laugh or reprimanded him for trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

The boy laughed, a big grin covering his small features. “I wonder what they’re like. Have you met yours yet, Batman?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows and a chuckle slipped through. “Yes, I have. It’s a wonderful thing.”

As the child kept rambling about his soulmate, Bruce knew that he had just found the next Robin.

~~~~

Y/n sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed. She had a textbook in her lap and was mumbling out phrases for memorisation of an upcoming exam. A small smile couldn’t help but expand on Jason’s face as he listened to her mumbles. He paused from his work in the small kitchen, back muscles rippling as he reached for the marinara sauce. When he went to dump the pasta into the strainer, the pot clanged against the metal faucet.

The Joker rattled his crowbar against Jason’s chains.

“Jay?” Y/n said softly, guiding him out of his memories before he could get too lost. “You can stop straining the pasta. All the water’s gone.”

“What?” he choked out, turning his head so he could see her.

“The pasta.” Y/n shifted forward so her legs hung over the edge of the counter. “It’s okay. It’s been okay and it will continue to be okay. You- you can let go.” The euphemism wasn’t lost on Jason.

He let the pasta pan drop in the sink and faced Y/n, eyes shining with unshed tears. “No. That’s not what I meant.” Swallowing down the feeling, Jason continued, “what did you call me?”

“Jay,” Y/n whispered.

The Joker paced around Jason after a few days without any torture. “It’s been too long, Robin,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it’s time to make you sing for your Uncle Jay.”

“Is that okay?” Y/n asked softly.

Bruce shouted from the other room, “Jay! Come on! The gala’s starting soon.”

“Jason,” Y/n repeated. She reached out and touched his shoulder and the boy came to stand between her legs. Jason dropped his head on her shoulder, beginning to sob quietly. Immediately, Y/n brought her hand up to rest on his head and the other arm to curl around his back. “Don’t you dare,” she shook her head as Jason began mumbling his apologies. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

And suddenly, everything was okay. Because Y/n was there. “Bruce called me Jay,” he murmured out. “An- and then he called himself Mr. Jay.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trigger-“

“No, it’s okay,” Jason looked at her, eyes shining with tears. “I like it when you do it. When you call me that.”

“You do?” Y/n asked, hands on either side of his face, cupping them closer and when her hands trailed to hold his neck and then one brushed back his hair oh this must be heaven, Jason thought, eyes fluttering shut. What he would give to live within her arms, always feeling safe and always feeling loved. She had that strange power over him and while Jason usually didn’t like people having power over him, he decided that when it came to Y/n, he didn’t mind. Not at all.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice lilting up with an infliction of infectious love.

Jason stood there, comfortable in her arms and secretly hoping that Y/n would never have to go to work and would always just stay here. Where he could just keep… holding her and touching her and making sure she was safe because if Y/n wasn’t safe, Jason was pretty sure he would go on a rampage. If Y/n wasn’t safe, if Jason wasn’t holding her, then it was only because the Joker had found him and ripped him away from the only thing he had ever loved.

And that would’ve been the cruellest method of torture.

No amount of chains would hold him back. No amount of drugs would make him forget Y/n. And no amount of hate would make him forget the amount of love he felt when Y/n held him close and he could hear her heart beating steadily. In that moment, Jason could pretend her heart beat for him.

He knew his heart beat for her. Then his mind flashed back to it all.

The boy’s muscles tensed, protesting against the Joker for the first time in weeks. He had been trying to keep the watch hidden for as long as possible, but he should’ve known it was futile.

Jason’s cracked lips parted and he forced a “no” from his parched throat. “Don’t.”

“Stop it.” Jason wiggled away from the Joker’s searing grip but nothing helped.

Jason let out a guttural scream as the Joker ground the glass into the dirt with his heel.

“Oh, picky picky picky,” the Joker teased. “Sensitive, are we?”

“Lemme go! Don’t touch her! Don’t you dare!” His voice cracked and blood began to trickle down his arms as the chains rubbed against his irritated skin and broke the surface. But he would take the pain a thousand times over if it meant he could get to his watch.

His soulmate. His love. It was all gone.

“Yes!” the Joker cried out, exclaiming loudly. His hands began to shake and a large grin spread on his maniacal face. “Yes! Emotion, Robby! This is what I want! Give me the fucking emotion! If I had known, I would’ve smashed that watch a long time ago.”

Jason lunges towards the Joker, face contorted with rage. “Don’t you fucking dare! Get- stay- no! No!”

It was the most he had ever fought against the Joker. And the Joker adored it.

“You… you’re my…” Jason choked out, jaw tensing slightly as the dots began to connect.

He didn’t know when Y/n had begun to cry, but as tears streamed down her face and she nodded desperately, things seemed to all click into place. “It took you long enough,” she joked pathetically.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jason breathed out, his hands tightening on her thigh, a protective instinct washing over him. “Oh, no, no, no,” he shook his head and brought her head in his hands, brushing away the tears. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s not that,” Y/n’s voice cracked. “I’m not unhappy, not in the slightest—” Jason was so sure of their bond that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that she might reject him or not love him due to his past. “—but I just never thought that you would- that I would-” She hiccuped and Jason’s eyes darted across her face, wanting to somehow help, but so unsure of himself.

Slowly, Jason sank to his knees. Y/n still sat above him, on the counter, staring down, baffled. Her eyes were red from crying and her lips were parted, but she had never seemed more beautiful. “What- what are you doing?” she murmured.

“I’m showing you how much you affect me,” he answered simply. “Quite literally, you saved my life, Y/n. And if that’s the only way you touched my life, I would consider myself the luckiest man on Earth. If no one has told you those words before, then everyone else is a fool. If you allow me to stay around and cherish the best thing that’s ever happened to me, gladly, I will.” Y/n slowly slipped off the counter, standing before him. “But that’s a lot of ‘ifs’. And I’m not willing to potentially lose you over some ‘ifs’. I know I’ve made you uncertain and I’ve wrecked your apartment and I’m so sorry,” he chuckled dryly. Jason’s hands were shaking as he slowly slid them up Y/n’s legs. She shivered under his touch, backing up until she hit the counter behind her. Jason lifted his hands from her, giving her a moment if she needed, but one look in her eyes led his hands right back to her body. “You’re like a drug,” he whispered, pressing his face to the side of her thigh.

“Drugs are very very bad,” Y/n managed to get out.

“I know.” A small smirk appeared on his lips. His lips suddenly looked very kissable. “The Joker taught me that. If I could go back and kill him, I’d do it in an instant, but… I’d also thank him. And I’d thank Batman. And Nightwing. And my mom. And everyone else in my life because they all led me to you.” Y/n’s knees buckled and Jason helped ease her down so she was sitting in front of him. He choked on his tears slightly before saying, “so many people believe in equality in the universe. So if all of that is true, then perhaps every bad thing that ever happened to me was just leading up to you. You… are so good that the universe needed to even it all out.”

Y/n began shaking her head vehemently. “Then let me damn the universe,” she whispered. “Because clearly, it’s been unfair. You were gifted to me, Jason. It’s not fair that you went through so much shit while I lived a fairly light life.”

“Maybe I’m not good enough…”

“Don’t you dare suggest that,” Y/n cut him off sharply.

“Then perhaps I took the hardship you were supposed to endure,” Jason offered the explanation. Before Y/n could argue, Jason said, “and I’d do it again.”

Y/n laughed lightly, drying her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t need to,” Jason muttered, leaning forward slightly to nuzzle into Y/n’s neck. He slowly, as if testing the water, pressed a kiss to her skin. Feeling her inhale, Jason grinned and repeated the gesture, wondering if he would get the same reaction. He did. After a moment, he exhaled, his breath tickling Y/n. “I’m going to need time,” he muttered. “I’m not going to be the perfect soulmate you deserve right away.”

“I don’t expect you to be. You’re already perfect to me.”

“I’ll work on it,” Jason compromised. “I want to deserve you.”

“You do–”

“Y/n,” he pleaded desperately. “Let me do this for you. Let me be the best Jason Todd for you.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to back down, Y/n nodded after a minute. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll get through it all together.”

“Maybe we should seal the deal with a kiss.”

A bubbling laugh filled Jason’s ears and he couldn’t help the large grin that came over him. “Hmm,” Y/n conceded. “Alright.”

And so they did.

“Mom, why’re we here?” A small hand gripped onto her mother’s.

“I signed us up for a soup kitchen,” her mom explained. “It’s coming to the holidays and we should be doing something good for others. Gotham isn’t always the nicest place to live and we’re fortunate enough that we can help when needed.”

“Hmm,” the girl conceded. “Alright.” She puzzled a bit over the thought that some people weren’t as fortunate as they were, before asking slowly, “do we need to help them any more than usual?”

“What do you mean, Y/n?” the mom asked, checking the street names as they passed. The girl frowned, her hair in small pigtails. “Well… Should we have brought clothes? Or blankets? How… How much do they need help?” She struggled to find the right words.

“No, they’re not homeless,” her mom said. “They just need a bit of help bringing food into the family, you know?”

“Okay,” Y/n accepted the answer easily.

“Just, hold my hand, will you?” the mom said, even though her daughter was already clutching her hand. “This isn’t the safest part of town, though nothing bad will happen. The sun is out, so there’s nothing to be worried about.”

Out of nowhere, a small boy barrelled out of an alleyway, shouting at some other boys that were running behind him. He crashed into Y/n, who’s mom scooped her up on instinct. “Oh, I’m sorry!” the boy cried out, head whipping from the two females back to the people chasing him. The boys behind him carefully came to a slow once they saw an adult with her daughter. “Uh, where are you two ladies going?” The boy asked, eyes darting back and forth between the groups. Ultimately, he decided that a stranger was more safe than those kids, simply because she was a mom.

“To the food kitchen,” Y/n supplied before her mom could shush her.

“I can show you the way!” The boy jumped at the opportunity, beginning to walk backwards away from the group of bigger boys. Y/n’s mom looked between the malnourished boy who was silently begging with his eyes to the group who had a smearing of blood on their knuckles.

“Okay…” she decided. “Show us the way.”

The young boy jumped up and began striding away, beaming with the safety of an adult. Y/n’s mom set her down carefully, gripping her hand tighter than before. “Stay close by,” she demanded. Y/n nodded.

The boy had dark hair that was cropped slightly at the sides with a tuft of it that fell over his eyes. His eyes were blue and he wore a red hoodie that fell just a bit too long over his jeans. “Wow,” he chirped as the trio got farther away from the alleyway. “Thanks. Let’s just say I’m not exactly on those guy’s good sides.” He kept rambling, Y/n’s mom shooting him cautious looks every once in a while, but he didn’t seem to notice. “What’s your name?” he asked Y/n, skipping over to walk by her side.

“Y/n,” the girl replied. “Y/n L/n.”

“That’s a nice name,” the boy grinned. “How old are you?”

“I’m five.”

“I’m seven!” The boy placed a haughty hand to his chest. “But my birthday’s tomorrow.”

Y/n’s mom hummed. “Oh. Are you excited to get your soulmate timer?”

“Yeah!” The boy beamed up at the woman, turning a corner. “Super excited. But this is the soup kitchen. You know, my mom should be stopping by soon. But thanks!” He began jogging off, waving goodbye.

“Wait! What’s your name?” Y/n called after him.

“Jason! Jason Todd.”

282 notes · View notes

sexyandcringe · 8 months ago

Text

Hopeless romantic

Part 1 ◇ Part 2

Warnings: none except mentions of readers past traumas, mention of sexual objectification.

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt no comfort.

A/n: it's my first long-fic, please be nice :)

You're not used to being loved.

Your parents were always strict, hardly ever showing their affection, you didn't even have any close friends until you started working, where you found your best friend who showed you the blessings of a platonic love; but time passes and things happen, you had to move out of the town, leave your one true friend behind.

You are not used to love but especially romantic love, because all men did was see you as the object of their sexual desires, or maybe a good time-pass until a better one came along. Never as a person with feelings, never as a woman who loved them more than they loved her.

Sometimes you were too much, sometimes you weren't enough.

Too affectionate, too clingy, too dramatic, too loud. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not horny enough. You tried and tried to be more, to be less, to be loved, but despite your efforts, love remained elusive, even with women.

So, after years of hoping and yearning, you resigned yourself to a loveless existence.

It is not to say that you never felt happy; even if you didn’t have love, you had fun and drama, you had friends to drink with (accompanied by the ting of pain the day after), you had a lot of books to read (leaving a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you finished one), you had dates and clothes and all the good and beautiful things in life and you've learned to appreciate these fragments of happiness.

But sometimes you get lonely.

You are used to it at this point, the crushing weight in your chest at 11 PM is your daily ritual before you finally give in to sleep.

So when you see Osamu Miya’s warm smile as he greets you in his restaurant, you battle to stop your stupid crazed heart, which is currently trying to jump out of your mouth.

You are just a client, his smile doesn’t mean anything, he is only doing his job, and you have seen him give the same smile to the old ladies who only order a coffee and linger to chatter for more than two hours, too. He’s a professional, after all. You are a regular and all he wants is your money, the bastard.

(you completely ignore the fact that he remembers details about you that no one bothers to remember; like the colour of your jewellery, the names of the dogs in your shelter or how your eyeliner is a little glittered today.)

Still, you are glad you got to know him. If anything, at least he is a good friend to you, always listening to what you have to say and filling your stomach with delicious food.

“ ‘Evening, Y/N. The usual?” He asks. You nod as you sit on the corner of the counter, the same seat you sat on the first day you came in.

(Osamu puts a “Reserved” sign on it every day until your arrival, not letting anyone else sit on it because it’s yours. But you don’t need to know that.)

You chatter with Tsumoto, the part-timer student who works in his shop, about his new crush, giving him advice you wouldn’t listen to nor follow from somebody else, and just as you are about to tell him that he should just write love letters to his crush, the doorbell rings; a pretty girl with dark long hair and the body of a goddess walks in, looking around for something, or better, for someone.

“‘Samuuu!” she calls him just as he comes out of the kitchen, and his face lights up, his arms envelop her figure and her lips meet his cheeks in an affectionate gesture.

… what?

“Emi! How are you, doll?” his voice holds tenderness as he guides the girl to one of the seats available, “Have a seat, I'll fix something up for you.”

She is a beautiful girl indeed, her hair flutters in the air like sea waves and her deep green eyes would make any man weak in his knees. She graces him with a smile, her flawless teeth gleaming.“A coffee is enough ‘Samu, I’m going to meet a friend soon.”

“Roger that!” he nods, signaling to Tsumoto for the order, before returning his attention to her.

He looks happy, you don’t think he has ever looked at you with this much fondness, and you’ve never witnessed any girl embrace him, let alone kiss his cheek. Hell, you didn’t even know if he had any female friends who were not his friends’s girlfriends.

(You feel your vision blur and something clenches in your chest. You swallow it down.)

You have no idea what they are talking about, you are not listening, all you can think about is how much you feel so so stupid. You didn’t hope for anything, you tried not to hope for anything at all, but feelings are hard to get rid of, especially if you see the one causing these feelings every week.

You look at them talking like best friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time and the feeling of inadequacy gnaws at you. You wonder if you ever even stood a chance to begin with. You yearned to be someone close to Osamu, someone who could give him hugs and kisses easily, someone who knew everything about him; you yearned to be part of his inner circle, but now you feel utterly stupid and delusional. Of course, he would never see you in that light, his affection is reserved only for a pretty girl like her. Of course he wouldn’t even think about getting physical with you. What were you even thinking?

Of course, you can’t be part of his world.

Reblogs are really appreciated! - Part 2

#Osamu x reader #Osamu miya x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu #Osamu miya #Haikyuu comfort #Haikyuu fluff #Haikyuu angst #Osamu angst #Osamu miya angst #Osamu miya comfort #Osamu miya fluff

281 notes · View notes

charliehoennam · 9 months ago

Text

sweet stranger

A/N: request made here by @annekelovesreading

Summary: the war veteran Alfie seeks comfort in a stranger in hopes of returning to his old self

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader is a sex worker.

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

part two

"Thanks for the ride, James. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

You climb out of the Bentley and adjust your coat, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress before strutting towards the hotel, your heels clacking against the pavement and then marble floors of the lobby.

You sense the judgemental eyes already on you, but you've learned how to ignore them. If their judgement paid your rent and bills, then you'd finally be able to retire. But until then, you did what needed to be done.

The service you provide is simple and clear. You meet the client, humor them a bit and fuck them before leaving at first light.

You are lucky enough to work for a powerful and strict madame that actually recognizes the importance of her employees' well-being and ran a high-end business.

Her rules were clear. No marking, no hitting and contraceptive must be used.

Just because her empire dominates the professional area of sexual pleasure does not mean she runs a funhouse. Many would mistake Madame's care for benevolence when it is really just a matter of logistics.

Black eyes don't allow her employees to escort her wealthy clients to prestigious social events. And the only reason her business dominates is because she assures clean employees to her clients. An employee with the clap gets the boot and replacing them is expensive.

After giving your name at the front desk, you take the keys you're headed with a smile and head to room 403.

The name is not unfamiliar. You've heard plenty of Alfie Solomons and part of you is afraid of what he'll be like, judging by what you've heard.

The ring of the lift snaps you our of your thoughts. You flash a smile at the liftman and thank him before stepping into the hallway.

Alfie Solomons is not your first client - nor will he be your last - but knowing he is the first gangster you're about to meet and sleep with has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You mentally repeat Madame's rules to yourself to try and ease your nerves. But then again, do rules hold any standing to criminals?

Taking a couple of deep breaths, you manage to relax as best as you possibly can in the situation and simply remind yourself that he is no different than any other client.

You lift your hand to knock on the door. There's movement behind it and the metal of the lock on the side rattles as it slides to open.

Your lips pull into a welcoming smile at the broad, tall man that opens the door. Taking in his features, you quickly notice his wet hair.

The smell of soap emanates from his large frame along with a faint scent of rum and an irresistible natural musk that almost lured you to touch him.

It's obvious that he took the time to wash himself and, to be honest, you're quite thankful for that.

"You must be Mr. Solomons."

"Punctual little thing, ain't you? Come on in, love. Don't mind me."

His tone is rather calm even with his heavy Cockney drawl. His fingers, however, seem to confess his nerves with the way they flick back and forth.

"Punctuality is a necessary characteristic in my line of work, Mr. Solomons."

"Right, right" he nods as you walk past him. He still can't seem to look you in the eye, but you've yet to discover why.

Most of the nervous clients that you've had were first-timers, young men eager to lose their virginity especially before being sent to war.

Alfie is very attractive and pleasing to the eye with his large strong build, but he is no young boy. You find it hard to believe that this would be his first time being as wealthy, cunning and wealthy as you heard he is.

"May I take your coat, love?"

"Yes, please."

You turn to back to him to allow his assistance, taking in the sight of the hotel room. You've been in this hotel before, but despite that, the lavish decoration of the suite never fails to impress.

Alfie can't help but feel intimidated by the simple scent of your perfume as he stands behind you, taking your coat to hang it for you. He doesn't want you to pick up on the fact that he feels so out of his element.

Before the war, Alfie had his fair share of women. He used to be so different. So young and naive and confident - which is the only characteristic he can successfully feign more than well in the wicked world he treads in.

But now, he's in foreign territory. So much has changed for him.

Getting his affairs back in strict order took so much work, sweat and blood from him that he hadn't prioritized his romantic desires.

If age hadn't been enough, the night tremors made it impossible to sleep beside anyone. Red blotches were beginning to spread throughout his body due to the psoriasis. His sciatica only worsened with age and the harsh conditioning the war had forced onto it. And now the fucking cancer, which only added to his list of secret insecurities.

The confident young man he used to be was gone. Alfie was still human, however. And like many other humans, he yearned for companionship. The problem is that a man like Alfie can't confide in just anyone. He can't expose it without the risk of his enemies seeing it as an opportunity to use it against him.

Good thing about Madame's business is that her turf is neutral and independent ground. For now, at least.

Alfie knows he has to overcome this hurdle if he plans to get married one day and start a family and he just thought this would be the best way.

He's got a beautiful woman in his hotel room; he knows what you came here to do. He's just not sure what to do at this point other than to confess it to you. He doesn't want to say it, but deep down inside, he feels a bit humilited.

It shows in the way he avoids your eyes, the way his head hangs low.

"There's no shame in that, Mr. Solomons. I'm happy to help however I can. We don't have to rush into anything just yet... Do you drink?"

"Not often. Clouds the mind."

"Precisely. What do you drink?" You smile warmly at him.

"Wine is my favorite."

"Let's get you a glass then, Mr. Solomons."

Just as you expect, the wine is successful in loosening him up a bit.

You're careful enough to avoid asking any questions that concerns his business, so you focus on asking him to share things he enjoys like music and books.

After a couple hours and a couple glasses, he's warming up to you as you listen attentively to his childhood stories. Despite the wine, he is cautious enough to leave out certain details that are too personal for you to know that could bring him or his family harm if they ended up in the wrong hands.

You can't take it personal, and can only imagine that trust does not come easy in his line of work which only confirms that pressing him on such information wouldn't be very smart.

No matter how easy the conversation is flowing or how comfortable he may seem to be, you can't forget who he is beyond these four walls.

As he finishes his glass of wine, he sets it down on the table in front of you while raising a hand to his shoulder to rub at the aching knot in his muscle.

"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Mr. Solomons?"

"With what, love? Oh, this?" He asks glancing at his shoulder. "Oh, no. You don't have to do that."

It almost like he's forgotten the reason you're both there.

"Really, I don't mind at all. It's the least I can do for you, sir."

With a sweet smile, you stand as you finish off your glass and set it beside his on the table before walking over to his chair to offer him your hand.

"I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

His blue eyes narrow their gaze at you for a moment as if he's trying to read you. You can see him physically tense before accepting your hand.

The talkative Alfie is suddenly replaced by a quiet and insecure version as he watches you, from where he's sat in the bed, take your heels off - your almost bare feet still covered in your black stockings - before climbing onto the bed.

You stand on your knees , which are spread to accommodate him between them, and sit back on your feet after taking the small bottle of rose scented intimate oil from your purse.

"It's like riding a bike. Your body knows that to do, but it needs time, patience and practice, so you have to go slow."

Your breathe on his neck has chills racing up his arms as you reach to his front to unbutton his vest and slide it off his wide shoulders. You do the same with his shirt, but pause before sliding it off as his hand instinctively hold your wrist.

"May I? I'd love to see you, but if you don't want to, I can just slide it down a bit."

He ponders for a moment but replies with a silent nod as he releases your wrist.

You slide it off and much to your impression, he seems even wider and stronger than you'd imagined.

A couple scars and red blotches already here and there on his skin, but they don't stop you from marveling at the rippling muscles.

"My goodness... Mr. Solomons, with all the utmost respect, but you are quite the work of art."

He can't help but smile at your compliment, although he thinks that you're just saying what you think he wants to hear, so it's hard for him to believe.

You let your palms gently wander over his large back and arms, with a gentle squeeze to his biceps.

"Carved from stone, are you?" You joke, bringing a chuckle out of him.

"No, love. Just flesh."

"Fortunately."

Using the pipette, you pinch a couple drops of the oil onto his shoulders before closing the vial to set it aside and letting your fingers get to work.

Alfie groans softly and his eyes instantly close as you start massaging to undo the knot that's been bothering him for weeks now.

"How is that, sir? More pressure?"

"No, love. That's just fine...just perfect," he sighs relieved. "Fucking 'ell, love. That feels fucking great. You've no idea how long that's been bothering me."

"I can imagine. You've got knots like this all round. It can't be easy to live with them.

Slowly but surely, Alfie starts to relax. It's impossible not to. It's been a while since he's been touched by anyone, much less massaged by them.

The tension is his body begins to ease as your fingers work away not only the knots caused by the stress of his days, but the anxiety of being intimate again. It doesn't seem so foreign suddenly.

Building up the courage to place a gentle kiss onto the back of his shoulder, you lower your head and press your lips to his skin.

"Is this alright?" You whisper.

"More than alright."

"I can go lower if you'd like me to."

He nods, so you glides your fingers down the middle of his back, pressing against ether side of his spine.

"Fuck, love... That is heavenly."

You smile at the praises and take it a sign to continue the gentle teasing, moving your kisses up to the crook of his neck.

You take your time to ease him into his arousal. The lower you go down his back, the more convinced he becomes.

"Would you like me to touch you?"

You ask nuzzling your nose against his ear and he nods.

You reach a hand to his front and rub your palm against his clothed crotch. Although you can't see his cock, you can tell the man's been blessed with girth as it twitches against your touch.

Alfie gives in to the instant pleasure and moans, letting all his worries melt away. He can't remember the last time he's been able to feel so at ease.

As you whisper encouraging praises into his ear from behind, Alfie allows you to unbutton his trousers and slither your hand under the fabric to stroke his cock with a firm grip.

The room seems to spin around him. His head feels heavy from the pleasure as it leans back against your shoulder.

"That's it, sir. Just let me take care of you" you smirk kissing a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know could make him tremble.

He isn't sure how much longer he can last. It's been a while after all.

"L-love, you feel so good."

You chuckle, letting his thick cock spring free from its confines.

"You're fucking beautiful, sir."

"Oh, you think so, yeah?"

You nod as your hand strokes his dick, coating it with his own pre-cum and the essential oil you'd brought.

"Lemme get more comfortable, love. Wanna see more of ya," alfie says holding your wrist to stop your movement for a moment.

He stands to kick off his trousers, standing in all his naked glory before sitting further up the bed with his back against the upholstered headboard.

"C'mere, love. Lemme see you hm?"

His invitation is made with calloused hands guiding you to straddle his lap. You make quick work of unbuttoning the dress and sliding the straps off your shoulders to reveal your chest with a sultry smile.

"May I?"

You can't help but smile at how he's a gentleman in such a moment. Most clients wouldn't even bother to remember asking, but Alfie makes you forget that he is just another client.

His large hands reach to knead your breasts, giving them such attentive appreciation as he licks his pink lips, eager to get them on you.

"It's alright, love" you whisper, seeming to read his mind.

The way his beard scratches your sensitive skin has your back arching into his warmth. His gentle and considerate admiration lures you into a trance; into a heated dream where you are able to finally feel like a woman loved.

You welcome him with fingers lacing into his messy brown locks still damp from his bath earlier. Your hips move mindless as you grind your clothed sex against his exposed cock, reminding him how good he feels and how you want him to feel the same.

Shifting onto your knees between his legs on the bed, you pepper tender kisses down his chest and stomach as your breasts dangle down and rub against his cock.

The anticipation has Alfie balling his fists into the white sheets.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, love. Fucking 'ell," he mumbles as your hands run up and down his thigh, giving gentle squeezes to tease him on.

"It's gonna be a long night."

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #tom hardy

341 notes · View notes

admirationandromantics · 1 month ago

Text

Going overboard, 10: Repentance

Yeah, you're right, I saved the best gif of him for this chapter. Just to remind everyone, this is not the last chapter!! I'll be posting the epilogue tomorrow, so stay tuned!!! And just a warning that it will be worth it (I mean, you've waited since chapter 5 or something for some more sexy times, right?) Anyways, hope you've enjoyed the story so far, and let me know if you want something else as well. My requests are open! <3

“I mean, I saw that thing from a distance” I start, walking behind Mike. “But it was so incredibly disgusting. The teeth, the skin, everything.”

“Like, I know I’m supposed to love every living thing on this earth, but can that thing be an exception?” Sam asks, and I giggle.

“Oh yeah, you should’ve seen everyone I saw. They were all different from each other, I mean, they all tried to kill me, but they looked like different people. You know that mining accident I told you about?”

We both nod in unison.

“The miners that survived resorted to cannibalism, and when they got treated at the Sanatorium, they attacked staff and killed people. I saw a video, medical journals and other stuff. It’s insane.”

“So there’s more of them?” Sam asks, stopping in her tracks.

“The one that took Josh, it was bigger than the one we just saw” I comment, getting a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“So we are up against several of those things?”

“Seems like it” Mike answers, lifting his shoulders and starts walking again.

“Fucking hell”

I start thinking about the one that took Josh. Something seemed so familiar about it.

“Don’t know how we didn’t run into any of them last year.” Mike says.

“Probably purely coincidences that we haven’t, like Chris says, butterfly effects and stuff” Sam wonders, keeping her sight on the path so she doesn’t stumble. The cave inn, how long ago was that?

“Wait, so how old is that thing?” I ask, thinking I’m messing with the wrong numbers.

“80 years at least” Mike says.

“Shit”

“I know”

“Spunky for an old timer”

We arrive at a big cave lake, and I look down, checking out the water.

“I think we’re close” Sam says.

“How can you tell?”

“I just feel terrible all of a sudden”

“I get that”

I touch it with my fingers, surprised by the cold. There’s something odd about it.

“I don’t want to go in there” Sam exclaims.

“Seems like there’s no other way through” I comment, looking around.

“What about there?”

I look over, seeing a path go beside the water. I stand up, walking there with the others. The path is surrounded by water, so there’s no other way for us to continue. I look over the lake, seeing a door on the other side. I think we have to go in it.

“Oh my god, is that what I think it is?” I hear Sam, turning around I see a large dig up hole. Awfully similar to a grave. Shit.

“That looks like a grave…” Mike whispers, a bit stunned. Sam walks closer, picking up something laying in the dirt.

“Fuck, this is Beths!”

“What?” I walk to her, seeing the watch in her hands, with Beth’s name engraved on the back of it. “This is her watch!”

“What?” Mike repeats, sounding unconvinced. He looks at it, eyes wide in realisation.

“There was a cross here” I whimper, breath caught in my throat, pointing to a cross lying upside down.

“So this must’ve been where she was buried” Mike says.

“But who dug her up?” I ask, chills crawling down my spine.

“Let’s keep moving” he says, hand on my shoulder.

“The faster we get away from this mountain, the better” Sam adds, quickly walking in front of us. We get to the lake again, and I take the first step down.

“God, I did NOT want to get an UTI from this trip” Sam comments.

“Or hepatitis” Mike adds.

“I can promise you, in these types of waters, that’s the least of your worries” I say, water reaching to my torso.

“Jeez, thank you for calming me”

“Just being honest, I thought you loved that about me?” I tease, trying to ignore the coldness.

“It’s okay Sam” Mike urges, holding out his hand for her.

“You sure?”

“We’re not dead yet” I whisper.

“Famous last words” she says before getting in. “Gosh it’s freezing”

“Just keep moving” Mike says. “Nobody likes cold buns… Although both of yours are great”

“Gee thanks Mike, you’re really lightening the mood” I say sarcastically.

“Always a pleasure”

We make our way to the side, hoping the water is low enough so we don't have to swim. Sam suddenly trips, water almost reaching her shoulders.

“Shit, I thought you said you reached the deepest parts?”

“When did I say that?”

“Umm, I don’t know”

She drags herself up, giving me a hand so I get out easier.

“What is that?” I point, noticing some papers laying on the ground.

“Oh shit” Mike exclaims. “That looks like Hannah’s writing. Sam looks over the pages, reading out loudly the writing for us.

“I’m sorry Beth, I have no choice. It’s the only way I can survive anymore. If someone finds this, I’m sorry. I had to, I had no choice”

“What does that mean?” Mike asks, breathing heavily and quickly.

“No, no, no, no, no” I exclaim, the pieces coming together. I look at Sam, she gets it as well.

“What, what is it?” Mike asks, scared but confused.

“I think… Hannah dug up Beth”

“No, no, no, no” I keep chanting to myself, feeling sick to my stomach.

“It was Hannah!”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief, but I know he just doesn’t want to believe it.

“No, that’s - that’s ridiculous”

“It has to be, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Think about it” I continue. “Beth died from the fall, so Hannah buried her… She couldn’t move, god knows how long she’d been down here, and she was probably starving”

“I get it, I get it, please don’t say it out loud” Mike scolds, and I shut up.

There’s still no direct way to the other side, so we have to go into the water again. This time, we’re all silent. We make our way there, Mike going first, followed by Sam and I beside each other.

“It’s getting deeper” Mike states.

“Roger that”

“Oh, no it’s getting better”

“Don’t jinx it”

We get to the other side, easier to get out of the water than before. I look around, feeling eyes on me, but can’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Sam goes straight for the door, pulling the handle hard. The door flies open, water pouring out, making all of us fall to the ground. A head rolls out, landing right beside me, and I shriek from the sight, pushing myself away.

“Fuck fuck fuck!”

Everyone stands up, keeping a distance from it.

“It’s the old man” I whisper, throat closing.

“Shit, let’s just go, now!” Sam firmly states, taking my arm and dragging me with her. We go inside, and I hold my hand in front of my mouth when I see the man’s body hanging from hooks in the ceiling. We need to go now, I want to get out of here.

Mike is standing directly under him, a few drops of blood dripping down on him. He looks up, shining the flashlight.

“Ugh, I’m gonna be sick” he cries, backing away and turning around. I hear small whimpers come from Sam as she clutches her stomach. My body starts shaking, a combination of coldness, wetness and panic. I don’t want to end up like that, none of us do…

“Wait” Sam stops us. “Do you hear that?” We stay silent, trying to hear whatever she’s alluding to. I try, but the explosion I caused with Chris must’ve damaged something. Mike moves to a wall, telling us to look. I walk over, seeing Josh walking around in circles, clutching his head and talking to himself.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. I don’t take orders from you!”

“Josh!” I yell, running to the door, trying to pry it open. Mike shoves in front of me, opening the door with ease and letting me run over.

“You can’t tell me what to do”

“Josh” I say, my voice barely over a whisper. I try to take his hand, but he seems completely oblivious to my touch.

“No, no, I told you, you can’t tell me what to do anymore”

Mike and Sam approach, saying his name and trying to get his attention.

“No, okay fine. I trust you. I trust you” he continues, his eyes seeming like they’re in a completely different place.

“What’s the matter with him?” Mike asks.

“He’s tripping or something. Having an episode” I answer, scared and confused.

“Hit him” Mike says, and I look at him with a ‘wtf’-expression. He pushes past me, lifting his hand and slapping him straight across the face.

“Mike” I yell, moving my hand to soothe his chin. “Josh!” he screams in his face.

“M-Mike?” Josh whispers, some of him coming back to the present. He looks down on me, his eyes calming down and breathing steadying.

“Hi Josh, it’s us, you’re okay”

“Please, d-don’t hit me again”

“No, no, I would never” I tell him, shooting a glare at Mike.

“Hey, it worked” he tells me, and I don’t know how to respond. It did work, I would never have done it myself. “He was in deep, full mental jacket”

“We didn’t think we’d get you back” Sam adds.

“Josh, Hannah was down here for… weeks? A month? She dug Beth up…”

“Sam” I warn. This is not what he needs right now.

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here” Mike says, already starting to make his way out.

“Okay, Josh? Do you have the key for the cable car?” I ask, trying to be as calm as possible.

“Uhh, yeah, yeah, here” he hands it to me. Hands touching. I hold onto him a little longer. His hands are cold and dry, streaks of red covering them. I kiss him on the cheek, thanking him. He looks taken aback, and I don’t know if I went too far too fast, but there’s nothing changing it now.

“See that over there?” Sam points. “That means a direct way out, come on”

I look up, a long rock wall. I could probably make it, Sam definitely would.

“There’s no way Josh is making it up there” Mike says, an arm around him.

“Okay, we split” Sam says.

“What?” I ask, not wanting to be separated.

“Two up, and two out from down here” Sam says, and Mike nods.

“Okay, I’ll take Jos-” I start, but Sam interrupts me.

“I need you. The wall, we’re the fastest, and the best climbers. Josh is safe with Mike”

“But-”

“No buts” Mike says. “We do it like that, we’ll be quick, I promise”. I sigh in reply, moving forward, putting one of my hands behind Josh’s neck and kissing him. I don’t care that the others are watching, I just need him to know how I’ve felt and how I feel. He kisses me back, hands moving to my waist.

“I’ve missed you” I whisper, low enough so only he hears it. “When we’re off this mountain, we’ll talk, okay?” I ask, still in a low voice. He nods in reply, a little smile creeping to his lips.

“We’ll go tell the others that we’re okay” Sam says.

“Yeah, good” Mike replies.

“Bring Josh back the way we came and we’ll meet at the lodge” I say firmly.

“Be careful”

“You too” we both say in unison. Mike gives us both a push before continuing back to where we came from. Josh’s eyes remain on me, and I feel like I left a piece of me.

We climb up the wall, getting up to the second half. I look up, seeing ice and snow.

“How do we do that?” I ask, getting shivers already.

“By having a good grip” she replies, starting to climb.

“Well, fuck it” I whisper as I do the same. I grab hold of a branch, managing to lift myself up the entire way. We both get up, being met with the snowstorm.

The path is still visible, and we waste no time walking. We both jog, not too slow, and not too quick.

“God, it’s cold” Sam complains, and I look over. She’s still wearing the training gear, legs and arms very exposed.

“Hey, take this” I say, giving her my bloodied scarf. I’m only wearing a sweater, a singlet underneath. There would be no point giving her that.

“Thanks”

The path leads to an icy pond, not completely frozen, just the edges. There’s no way around it.

“Why does it have to be today?” she asks, not expecting an answer.

“Come on” I tell her, getting into the icy water. I bite my teeth together, never before have I been so cold. I can’t talk, I can barely move. She gets in, and makes exactly the same expression. We have to be quick, both probably suffering from hypothermia already. We walk over, the water getting deeper with each step, but finally, we’re on the other side. I help her up, limbs frozen and red.

Suddenly, we both hear a horrific scream. The wendigo. It must be close. Fuck. We both start running for our lives, jumping over trees and taking sharp swings. Finally the lodge comes to our vision, and we run for the door. I try to open it, but it’s locked. I start banging, praying that the others will hear me.

“Let us in!”

“Get it open, get it open!” Sam urges, twitching and shivering behind me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”

A hand goes on my shoulder, and we turn around to find Mike and Josh standing there, panting and shivering as well. They’re both scratched up and dirty, more than when we left them.

“Shit, guys” I pant, almost not being able to breathe.

“You look terrible” Sam says, looking them both up and down.

“We’re gonna look worse if we stay out here”

I give Sam a determined look, and pick up a rock from the ground.

“Yeah, good idea” she compliments, arms around herself for a little warmth. I throw the rock through the window, sneaking my hand in and unlocking it from inside. We all run in, closing the door behind us. Sam turns on the light.

“Not good” Mike says as he turns it off again.

“What should we do?” I ask, nervous and cold.

“We should check the basement, might be someone left there” Mike replies, walking to the stairs. I take Josh’s hand in mine, and he takes the whole of me into a big hug. I finally feel tears coming, coating his shoulder.

“I love you” I whisper between sobs, holding him even harder.

“I love you too” he whispers lovingly, his voice finally sounding sure and true. I pull away, and he dries my tears before I can. I smile, thinking wow, we might actually survive. I hold his hand in mine, leading him down the stairs to the others. When we’re halfway there, we’re met with screams, and Emily, Ashley and Chris running up past us.

“Run!” Mike yells as he comes towards us. Josh starts moving up the stairs, but I see Sam just standing still, unable to move. I run down, grabbing her arm firmly and dragging her with me.

“Get it together!” I state as we run up the stairs, immediately coming to a halt.

The wendigo, the big one who took Josh, is standing on the ornament hanging from the ceiling. Thankfully, I’m right next to Josh, and I look at him in the side vision, telling him not to move. All of us are standing completely still, the wendigo not being able to locate any of us, yet. I hear the others come up from the cellar, running up the stairs and catching the big one’s attention. They all look at each other, before going off, two of them hitting and biting. I hear someone run out the lodge, and I carefully look back, seeing Emily and Ashley taking small steps backwards. I signal to Josh, carefully grabbing the back of his overalls and taking a step back. It works well, the monsters being too occupied to notice any of us. We’re right by the door when I see the big one rip the other’s head off. Mike has been slowly moving, but suddenly, the wendigo sets his mind on him.

“Hey!” Sam yells, and I struggle to hold my mouth shut. No, no, no. Not Sam, please. I hear the monster yell again, turning away from us. I take my chance, grabbing Josh’s hand and running out. Outside, I find Emily and Chris, both standing beside each other, not making a sound. We make our way over to them, looking inside for the others. Ashley comes running out, getting among us. I see Mike in the opening, waiting for something. Suddenly, he runs toward us, Sam in his heels, who switches the light on, causing the whole lodge to explode in flames. Sam shouts as she’s thrown forward by the explosion, Mike falling, and everyone else being blasted into the snow. I feel hands move around me as I hit the ground.

A few seconds go by, the sound of burning wood and the smell of rotten flesh fills the area. A light is seen, and we all look up as a helicopter lands.

57 notes · View notes

unspeakable-imagination · 5 months ago

Text

Cigar smoke and Sleepless nights |Part four

Switched gifs cause this one is wider and prettier

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x reader

Reposts and likes are appreciated

Cw: Cigars and smoke, drinking, reader has ptsd. Logan has ptsd, canon-typical violence, references to abuse

Part one two three

For once, you were up 'late,' and by late, it meant daytime. You couldn't sleep, to anxious since your zippo ran out of lighter fluid and you couldn't by more. You sat in the window sill, staring at the fresh snow that blanketed the grass and trees.

Dispite the fox, you felt cold. Maybe it was the lack of your nic fix, maybe it was the absence of talking to any real people. The sun had long risen, and people had been awake for an hour, maybe two. Realistically, you could go out there- talk to someone. Go buy lighter fluid. You had the money from Charles. It was to cold to go outside, you decided. Slipping from the sill, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Just the same old you.

A lump rose up your throat the closer you got to the door, and it felt like it was burning. To anxious to try to leave your room. What if- What if, so many what's began to fly through your head, but then, they all went silent.

'[Name], it's okay.' A voice. It wasn't Charles? You heard a knock and then opened the door. A lean redhead with bright eyes was looking right at you. "[Name]," she said. "I'm Jean. Charles told me to check on you, and it seemed like perfect timing. He could hear your thoughts from down stairs." You were still confused. It was ger voice you heard in tour head.

"Are you like Charles?" It was the first words that slipped passed your lips. She shook her head,

"No, but I am similar. He can hear just about every one constantly. I'm not like that." She placed her hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I will be, I think I just need some tea to ground me." You wished it was bourbon, or whiskey, or maybe any other liquor. Jean snorted and backed away, having heard what you thought. Of course you were unaware. For a moment, you worried she was laughing at you, but she was able to quell thag worry in just a moment.

"I'd best be on my way. Be safe, [Name]. You'll be okay. Just keep that head up." You nodded and watched as she walked away before you stepped out your own door. Stepping down the stairs, minding the flood of people of all mutant sorts, trying your hardest to ignore the beating of your heart from your chest.

You made it to the kitchen, and with no students there, you were finally able to breath, really breath. Grabbing a mug off the rack, you quickly filled it to the brim with water and put it in the microwave to heat. Whole that happened you shoveled through the cabinets till tou found a perfect tea packet. Chamomile and sweet berry.

After tossing the packet on the counter, you spent your time looking for the honey. That was fairly easy. It was in a large squeeze bottle, shaped like a bear. When the microwave beeped, you were quick to pull the steaming ceramic mug out, taking as little time possible do tou wouldn't burn your hand.

Putting the packet in and rigually tying the string to the handle, you squeezed the honey on top thag way it would dissolve and mix with the pinkish tea flowing from the bag.

Sitting there, you patiently waited. And by patiently, you were actually darting around the kitchen, desperate to find something to do. You looked in the sink, in the fridge, freezer, cabinets and pantry, in the fridge again. Anything to keep your mind off of the driping anxiety.

Like a timer went off, you squeezed the rest of the bag around you fingers getting any of the concentrated tea out of the cup and threw the garbage in the trash. Using your finger to briefly stir it, then licked it off you finger.

You took a deep gulp, one that took almost a third of the glass, trying to use it to calm your nerves. What you didn't realize was that the reason you were growing calmer was the scent of tabacco flowing from behind you. It was hard to smell metal with all of the worry, confusing it for the smell of your own blood. That was until someone cleared their throat.

"That's my coffee mug," Logan said behind you. Jumping from you skin, you nearly spilled the tea over your sweatshirt. "Oh my gods," you sighed. "You scared the fuck out of me. I'm sorry, I didn't know it was your mug, I'll wash it right now." You didn't even give him a moment to speak. You grabbed another mug from the rack and poured your tea into it,

"Oh," he said, to slow to stop you. His brows knitted together as he watched you quickly wash then scrub his mug, rather diligently. You flipped it upside down into the drying rack. "Hey," he said. He wasn't loud enough to break through your trance as he watcher you dip around, grabbing the coffee pot.

"Seriously I am-"

"Hey," he shouted. You stilled, the coffee pot dropping from your hand, the hot drink spilling over the linoleum tiles.

"Oh my god," you said, beginning to panic. Logan was quicker than you this time putting some hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist, stopping you from nearling pulling you your hair.

"Jean," he yelled for the redhead, his jaw twisting over his shoulder. "Jean!" Then, you relaxed, your vision going spotty.

When you woke up, your steaming cup of tea was on your bedside table. Charles sat next to you, his hands folded neatly on his lap. His expression was cross, funn of concern and worry.

"I always try nor to pry into my students head without permission, however you had such a poor reaction to an accident I had to try to help," he said gently. A sour taste filled your mouth, as if bile was rise up your throat.

"What did you see?" He looked at you and you couldn't already tell it was everything. You sat up, glancing to the mug and taking a sip.

"I can take all thoes memories away, [Name]. Usually, I wouldn't offer it, but I feel like it could help you. Wothout living in fear." You raised your hand.

"No, I can't. They make me who I am. They're so important- they show me what not to do." Charles only nodded.

"I know. Don't be afraid to seek help."

#hugh jackman x reader #logan xmen #wolverine fic #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett xmen #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett oneshot #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #wolverine

95 notes · View notes

befuddled-calico-whump · 16 days ago

Note

how are lex and sarah spending the holidays?

if you listen really closely you can hear me praying for his first ever safe and enjoyable time

woe, fluff be up on ye

Wildefire Masterlist

•°•°•

"Lighten up. Just a little?"

"I don't see what the point is."

"Come on, it's... I mean, we don't even have to call it Christmas. What did you celebrate growing up?"

Lex couldn't remember any holiday celebrations. Even as a child, his mother didn't care for Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, nothing. She'd take him along to the old cathedral on New Year's day, thanking her saints for another year survived, offering prayers for luck in the next. Even then, he doubted she believed in what she was saying. Just another tradition handed down from her family. Not one he'd bothered to keep after going to Chopper's.

He must've been staring blankly for a good minute, because Sarah let out a sigh. "You don't have to participate, I just... Figured I'd offer. We didn't really do a Christmas last year, since we were trying to find a safe spot. She'd never admit it, but Akeela was pretty bummed out. Holiday break used to be the only time we got to really hang out and have fun as a team. Even Overk--" She winced. "It's a tradition. For us. And now you're one of us, so..."

Lex shrugged. Maybe it made no sense to waste time on, and maybe it was dumb to take a break instead of focusing on the grueling task of uprooting corp, but... Maybe it wasn't a crime to do something that wasn't life or death.

"What do you want me to do?"

•°•°•

Alexei wasn't so far removed from society to be ignorant to the tradition of ugly sweaters, but it seemed Hugo had gone out of his way to track down the most horrendous ones in the city. He was clearly trying to suppress a giggle as he passed Lex's over, a terrible lime green thing with some cartoon character embroidered across the front in a glittery fuzz.

Akeela snorted when she saw him in it.

"Green is not your color."

"Yeah? Well orange isn't yours. You look like a muppet."

She pulled an offended face, but he could hear her laughing when she turned her back. She settled between Hugo and Rosie on the couch, stealing a handful of popcorn from the latter, a festive children's movie that looked a hundred years old playing on the beat-up television across from them.

Lex begrudgingly took a seat nearby as Sarah came in, a platter of cookies in hand.

"Looks like dinner's just gonna be spaghetti and meatballs, but hey, I'm not complaining," she said, sliding the platter in front of the group. Her so-called ugly sweater looked good on her, in a way. The cotton-candy pink fit her complexion, making her dark hair stand out, her brown eyes warmer. Hugo was definitely picking favorites here, he thought, even as his eyes kept going back to her.

"Are you gonna sit down at all?" he asked when she caught him staring.

"Well, we still got some cookies in the oven, and dinner isn't made yet, so---"

"Did you want help?" Usually everyone was busy with their own task, or out of the house, or in their own rooms. Yet somehow the kitchen was always clean and food was always ready. He knew that was all Sarah's doing, but only now, with everyone relaxing over a movie but her, did it feel wrong.

She let out a small laugh at his question. "I got it covered, unless you wanna play dishwasher."

"I can do that." Probably. He hadn't done that sort of work with cybernetics yet, but it couldn't be that different from cleaning a weapon or a wound. A little delicate, a little deliberate.

She seemed surprised at his offer. "Oh, well... Yeah, that'd be great."

Lex followed her into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves. A pot of water was boiling on the stove, the oven timer beeping as soon as they stepped inside.

"That would be the cookies. Here, I'll---"

He was opening the oven before she could finish, grabbing the hot tray with a metal hand and setting it on the stovetop. Sarah let out a playful huff.

"Show-off."

"One objective complete. Those dishes don't stand a chance."

"Yeah? Step up to the plate and we'll see," she shot back, extending an arm towards the dish pile with a small flourish. Lex stepped past her, a smile tugging at his mouth, and began to fill the sink.

Alright, delicate. Most of their dishes were plastic or metal, but the occasional glass could prove tricky. He didn't want to shatter anything in the sink. Sarah moved behind him, adding noodles to the boiling water and starting a pan of sauce as he set to work.

Big items first. Eliminate clutter, create space for organization. Metal pots are a safe bet for starting; less probability of causing damage as hands are better calibrated to the task.

"You never told me you had a thing for dishes."

Sarah's voice startled him halfway through the task. "Huh?"

"You seem very focused."

"It's something to do."

She smiled. "Well, if you wanna put it on hold for a bit, dinner's done." Three plates were already full and ready, waiting on the counter.

"I'll help you bring it out."

Her smile seemed to grow.

The two of them delivered the spaghetti to the living room, passing a plate to each of the kids before going back for their own.

Okay, so maybe this wasn't so bad. Everyone sitting at home, cheesy feel-good movie, warm food, warm house, it was kind of nice. Even the dumb sweater wasn't so bad when everyone else was part of the joke. Lex spooned sauce over his pasta, moving to rejoin the others.

"Hey."

He paused, glancing back at Sarah. "Yeah?"

She cleared her throat, setting her own plate down. "Well... I'm supposed to wait to give you this until tomorrow. Traditionally speaking and all. But I know you don't like eyes on you, and fuck tradition anyway, so..."

Instinct kept his eyes on her hands as she moved, but there was no tension in his chest, no coiled action waiting to spring as she pulled something out of a kitchen drawer and passed it to him.

It was a book. Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman.

"Poetry," was all he could say for a moment. It looked old. Its weight was insistent in his hands, sheaves of paper reminding him that he was a thing of fire, destruction. But maybe if he held it carefully enough...

"I just..." Sarah fiddled with her glasses. "I mean, sometimes I'd hear you rhyming to yourself, so... I guess I figured you might like that."

Poetry. Something it seemed he never had time for. Not since the Tower, when made up lines were the only thing tethering his sanity on some days. Back in Neath, he had a few full books--+and a few empty ones too, for crafting his own words. Not often, but they'd been there. Under Fox, there'd been nothing. Sure, he probably could've found something to write with if he'd really wanted, but what would end up on the page, after everything? Were there any words left when he'd been made nothing but a weapon?

But now...

"Thank you," he managed to say, unable to take his eyes off the book, voice thick. "I don't... I didn't get anything for you."

"It's not a trade-off, Lex." Carefully, her hands wrapped around his. He couldn't feel it, that was impossible, but despite all logic, he felt warmer.

"I'm just glad you like it." Her smile turned a shade wryer as she picked up both of their plates. "Now let's get back out there before they start wondering what we're up to."

Not a trade-off. It took him a second to follow her, to make himself move. Fortunately, the others were focused on the movie when he stepped back into the living room, Rosie caught between Hugo and Akeela and and a character comparison.

"That's you."

"I am not the fucking dentist elf."

"You look just like him though."

He took a seat beside Sarah, book still clutched in one hand.

"So maybe there's no big point or mission to it," Sarah murmured. "But do you think it's worth it?"

Her leg was warm against his, the book's hard cover flat on his thigh. The teasing on the other couch had devolved into laughter over something stupid.

"Yeah. I think it's worth it."

•°•°•

tag list:

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise ,

@whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow , @honeycollectswhump , @snakebites-and-ink

#fluff is so much harder to write than angst I'll be real #Wildefire #anon #fluff #comfort #“Alexei will get a cute lil Christmas” -> “Alexei is doing the dishes” its a labor of love ok #cinderglass

23 notes · View notes

sunflowers-son · 14 days ago

Text

RIV!! For legal reasons I can’t say she’s my favorite, as that might change in the future.. 3/9

Artificer/Survivor

Rivvvvv!! Alrighty, long long ago, an iterator created a “water scug”(much much more aquatic than dear riv here). And eventually, that one slugcat made an entirely new subspecies! For this but I’m just going to talk about thoughts on the offshoot species.. so skip to the next paragraph if you want! Their “mating”(ew??) is a lot like clownfish but genders are swapped(i.e. alpha male 😏 and the rest are female until the male dies). The sluppies were pinned on whichever mother was available. They use buccal breathing(black tip reef shark, some frogs, etc. use it!(it’s basically just a much more complicated way of taking in air and water)).

Now onto riv! Her childhood was spent very.. nomadic. She was never in one place for long, always migrating to the next body of water that his colony could find. A lot of her childhood was spent near iterators because of their water output. The colony is very special, because of the gills. They could wait out the rain under the water!

When she got old enough, she decided to leave her colony to explore the world, wanting to learn about it! She’s been to as many iterators as she can climb the walls to, grabbing all the pearls and forcing the iterator to read them(she has been to basically everyone in moons local group(suns is sadly not in the local group), only not being able to get to Ui)! Moon and pebbles were her last stop in this region.

It’s just lucky that Riv stumbled into pebbles chamber, I don’t think any other scug would be able to even do the heart surgery…. I do think the reason she stayed with moon is because she felt like she needed to take care of her. She’s seen what iterators are supposed to be, and how they’re supposed to function. And moon nor pebbles are anything like any iterator Riv has seen. I also think she takes the name “Ruffles” in stride!

OH THATS SO LONG im so sorry..

Misc.

A) eel lizard incident has impacted her ability to swim reliably

B) the scar across her leg.. part.. is from a dropwig! She has an identical scar on the other side of her

C) I’m ignoring the fact that Riv has a breath timer in the game..

D) sometimes at the end of the cycle, she leaves the shelter and sits with moon, who is reasonably confused

#I had to try so hard not to infodump about sharks #I’m so sorry for the amount of words..#what can i say #i love her your honor #OH! merry Christmas by the way!#rain world #rainworld #art #rw rivulet #rivulet #yapping

17 notes · View notes

zai-doodles · 1 year ago

Note

In your fairy tail will Laxus be different, guy was too much of a prick to accept his change of heart or that "deep down, he's a good guy", he threatened to kill the entire city just because he had daddy issues.

i have so many opinions ive been avoiding answering this until i had time to write an essay so here you go.

So, i personally, feel like fairy tail has a really weird habit of having characters do extremely irredeemable shit, say several times that the character is enjoying what their doing, then have their character do a 180 several arcs later because after fighting fairy tail they just saw the light or some shit.

Like i was rewatching the Battle of Fairy Tail arc and lauxus is just... so awful? and the way they try to redeem him with the spell shit not working like sir he was going to kill everyone maybe we dont give him a pass?

all this to say heres how I would rewrite the battle of fairy tail:

Ok so i'd keep Laxus' resentment of Makorav over the banishment of his dad, the only thing keeping laxus in ft is knowing one day hes going to inherit the guild. He works his ass off to become as powerful as he can in order to live up to that legacy but also...

He hates it there.

Specifically, the ones who grew up in the guild (ie erza, mira, natsu, gray, etc) because he always felt like makorav embraced them more than laxus.

So he works hard and keeps his head down, picking fights more out of resentment than anything the other guild members did. I think some of the older guild members who remember Ivan are very wary of Laxus but not afraid just... keeping an eye out.

Laxus reads it as pity.

Once Laxus grows up, hes arrogant, entitled, and selfish. He puts his everything into becoming the best and surrounds himself with yes men (the thunder legion im getting to them) who boost his ego.

Then one day he overhears some fairy tail members spreading a rumor that Makorav is going to retire...

And Erza is going to become the next guild master.

And it fucking breaks something inside him.

I think Laxus resents Erza the most because its just so clear Makorav favors her over everyone. Shes so perfect and humble and honorable and...

Everything Laxus isn't.

So he sets up a plan. He's going to take the guild by force.

ok so it happens basically the same as canon right up until the end. Before the timer runs out Laxus demands Makorav hand the guild over to him before all these people get hurt.

Makorav shows up to confront laxus and instead of doing or saying anything, he just quietly walks up to laxus and stands in front of him.

Laxus starts to panic and yells about how the old man has to give up or everyone is going to die. Outside fairy tail is taking down the dome but its not enough.

Laxus grows more erratic but Makorav says nothing.

The timer runs out and nothing happens.

Laxus sighs in defeat. He's been caught.

He was bluffing.

See the plan laxus and the thunder legion made was simple, they'd prove themselves the strongest by beating the entire guild and once everyone was taken out, makorav would have no choice to hand the guild over since no one was left to stop the thunder dome.

the body link magic still hurt any attackers just to make them seem more real, but they were only really there to pressure Makorav into caving.

Laxus didnt account for his grandpa having faith in him.

However the power grab couldn't be ignored, attacking the guild and even just threatening the city leads to laxus getting banished.

The thunder legion decide to leave fairy tail but laxus forbids them from following him anymore, not feeling worthy of being their leader anymore. So the thunder legion kinda just go off on their own as a trio for the time being.

Idk if this feels lame to others but to me its better than having laxus fully believe hes going to kill everyone and go through with it (even if the spell didnt work) only to redeem him later. It just feels weird to me? idk im not a great writer but this is just my lil rewrite.

as a treat have my bickslow redesign

shhh ik its not v good im still work shopping it but this is like, my third attempt so just take it for now

#fairy tail #zai talks #zaidoodles #bickslow #redesign

68 notes · View notes

kzele · 6 months ago

Text

TSSM What If. . .Ock Triggered The Bomb Earlier?

Summary: For once, Peter Parker is in crosshairs and is forced to become the hero. Naturally, this puts him back in the crosshairs by reminding him just WHY he has two separate IDs.

Peter was used to being dismissed by adults. They took one look at his face and saw his age instead of him as a person. So when Mr. Osborn politely told him to get lost, he would've normally taken it stride. If it had been about normal business stuff, that is. Norman had practically superglued himself to Peter's side whenever they were in the same room for just about everything else he forced the teenager into. Be it brain-frying corporate meetings or neat trips and lab experiments.

Heck, considering he had been essentially browbeaten into accepting this "apprenticeship," Peter might've been ecstatic to get away and, you know, RELAX AROUND CHRISTMAS. But, noooo. Not with Norman Osborn. Because Norman Osborn doesn't have fun. He has money.

Alright, maybe that was a bit unfair to think about the senior Osborn like that, because he was and has always been MUCH nicer to Peter than apparently everyone on the planet. (Which brings up its own problems where Harry is concerned.)

But that's not the point here.

The real point is that Norman's assistant/flunky Donald Menken, who either doesn't like Peter or ignores everybody with an income below 250k as standard procedure, was going to say something about Toomes aka Big Bird's goth grandpa.

Ever since the guy escaped from prison along with his buddies, he's been laying low for some time. Which is quite an accomplishment if we're taking into account all his very public past murder attempts. The first of which he literally screamed at his target before attacking. Despite his flight suit being almost completely silent in use. And having the element of surprise already. It sucks to know that his villains were learning subtlety. Or just learning in general.

Annnd since the Vulture is nowhere to be found, any information about the jerk is necessary. Unfortunately, arguing the point with Norman isn't going to get anywhere. Not unless you can count ticking him off as "getting somewhere." And Peter would rather not do that. . .Especially when he could just sneak back in and eavesdrop, regardless of his marching orders. Lots of pillars to hide behind plus his enhanced hearing will hopefully equal one enlightened spider.

Peter produced the expected agreement and made it about two steps before-

His brain was on fire. Spider sense!

"Nonononono, countdown activated! Thirty seconds to implosion!"

The teen whipped his around to see Morris the demolition guy frantically inputting what could only be the deactivation codes.

Norman was firm, "Shut. It. Down."

The timer didn't even slow.

Well, crap.

He basically teleported himself next to the panicking blond right at that moment.

Okay, focus and then think. It didn't seem likely that this was an accident but even if this was supreme bad luck, the codes were shown to not work. Bomb squad would be clean up by that point. Revealing himself as Spidey and saving everyone would endanger his loved ones regardless of whether he survives this or not. But Peter couldn't do this. He couldn't save everyone in time as just plain, old Peter Parker. He couldn't. . .

Wait. In time?

Of course. The timer.

Peter was done thinking in seconds and relayed his thoughts, "Mr. Bench! Can you reset the timer?!"

"I'll-I'll try," the frazzled man nodded as he worked.

But the machine was only on the new time for moment before it reverted back to half a minute. Somehow, it felt almost mocking in its false hope.

"It-it wo-won't-"

"Is there a manual way to disable the timer so it can't revert back," Peter asked in a voice calmer than he felt.

Morris' voice was almost inaudible, "Blue wire at the bottom right of the screen. Pull that when I go again."

And then there was waiting. . .

Waiting. . .

. . .

Now!

"NOW!"

And then there was silence.

29:59. . .29:58. . .29:57

He would've collapsed onto the old and dirty tenement floor right then like Morris. (And Menken, too, if the gasping sounds from behind were an indication.) But his adrenaline hadn't worn off and the danger was still present the longer they stayed here if the muted buzzing in his cranium meant anything.

"Well done, son."

Norman Osborn's approving smile followed Peter the rest of the way out of the building.

End of Part I

Next Time (possibly) : Ock Goes WTF happened and Peter Receives the Credit for All The Things. Also, Stalking Ensues.

#tssm peter parker #the spectacular spider man #tssm #spiderman #my writing #tssm norman osborn #tssm donald menken #tssm morris bench

21 notes · View notes

oldwritingm · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I'm uh the same person that you matched up with Jay for the matchup stuff, (It was very cute and amazing and I adored it) and I just wanted to request a reader x Jay where it's Christmas and reader is over at the monastery and they like each other but they're nervous to admit it so the other ninja (Lloyd is the mastermind because of his prankster antics) set up a plan to get them under the mistletoe and it eventually succeeds and both reader and Jay are super flustered and end up confessing to each other? Sorry if this is sorta rambly and confusing

This is such a cute request!! I hope I did it justice 🙏

Word count: 838

Ninjago - Kissing Jay Under the Mistletoe

You wiped your hands on your apron, smiling amusedly at the stark white handprints left behind. With your clean fingers you fixed the timer for the cookies to bake. In the meantime, you had to prepare the frosting.

You made a big batch, dividing it into smaller bowls and adding food dye. You set one aside to preserve the white color. In the other bowls you mixed up some red, yellow, green, purple, pink…

Blue. You stared into the rich hue, suddenly falling under some sort of spell. You found yourself frozen as thoughts of a particular boy filled your head.

Brown hair and freckles. A nerdy laugh, a lopsided smile. Enough energy to power a car—literally, if you took his elemental powers into consideration. And a name that brought a smile to your face as it slipped out from your lips.

“Jay…”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the incessant beeping of your timer. You huffed, irked at the disturbance to your daydreams.

“Oh, quiet, you!”

“I’ll get it,” Lloyd rushed into the kitchen suddenly, donning the oven mitts before you could. “Can you go help with decorations?”

You nodded. It’d be a while until the cookies were cool enough to frost, so you figured you might as well make yourself useful in the meantime.

Jay replaced yet another bulb on the tree. It glowed with new light. Jay tossed the old bulb into the trash and followed the wires until he found the next dead light.

He plunged his hand into his pocket, swiftly replacing it with routine efficiency. It lit up, shining bright f/c and enchanting him immediately. He froze where he was, hand poised above the trash bag, bulb still pinched between his fingers.

(hair length) h/c hair and s/c skin. E/c eyes that twinkled brighter than any light on that tree. A smile that could melt the heart of anyone lucky enough to see it. Jay felt his cheeks go pink as they appeared like a vision in his mind. He sighed the name that was ever musical to his ears.

Suddenly the bulb in his finger exploded. He shook his hand violently, cursing his fickle powers.

“Why am I the one doing this anyway? Is it because I’m the electricity guy?” He complained to no one in particular.

Just then, Lloyd jogged into the room, flustered as if he had just booked it there after finishing some other task. Jay decided not to ask about the oven mitt haphazardly tucked into his waistband.

“How about you go help with decorations? I can finish up with the tree.”

Jay gratefully emptied his pockets into Lloyd’s hands, multicolored bulbs practically overflowing from his palms. “Thanks, Lloyd!”

Lloyd got a suspicious look in his eye. It reminded Jay vaguely of the look he’d get when he played pranks as a kid, but he decided to ignore it.

Jay joined you in the threshold. You were both looking at an empty room. Well, empty of people. Boxes of decorations were scattered around, and a few had been put up already. But the room was still barren, as far as decor (and people) went.

“Who are we supposed to ‘help’? There’s no one here,” you observed confusedly.

“Maybe they went to the bathroom?” Jay suggested, still scanning the area as if someone would materialize if he stared hard enough.

“Ooh!” Nya’s voice came from behind you, making you both jump.

You were about to greet her, but the look on her face stopped you. She was absolutely giddy, cheeks pink, pointing above you with a little giggle.

You looked up.

Oh no.

“It’s mistletoe! They’ve gotta kiss now!” Kai appeared at the scene, shaking his sister while announcing it as if you weren’t five feet away.

You made painful eye contact with Jay. You both looked terrified.

“W-we don’t have to! It’s a stupid tradition anyway. Plus, no way someone as awesome as you would ever wanna kiss me—”

“What? Jay, you’re the awesome one! You’re handsome, funny, smart, strong… anyone would be lucky to have the privilege to kiss you.”

Jay blinked. “Is… is that how you really feel?”

Your face went hot. You dropped your gaze down and to the side. “Um…”

“Because that’s how I feel about you!”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. You stared at each other dumbly for a second, mouths agape, unmoving until someone shouted “kiss” again.

When you pulled away, you smiled at each other, remaining in a tight embrace until you registered the sound of cheering.

You blushed deeply, separating bashfully.

“It worked!”

“What?” Jay’s head snapped up. “Lloyd! I knew you were up to something, you scheming green devil!”

Lloyd couldn’t keep himself from laughing as he took a series of smacks and light punches from Jay.

You giggled as you watched them, though secretly you were grateful for Lloyd’s little plan. He sent you a knowing wink, which you returned discreetly. It might have been Christmas, but it seemed Cupid came early.

Thank you for this adorable request! And thanks for reading, take care guys <33

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #jay walker #jay walker x reader #jay x reader

57 notes · View notes

fanfoolishness · 2 years ago

Text

Sprouts

Greez names a plant after Cal, and takes care of it through the years. (Based on a bit of dialogue in Fallen Order where Greez tells Cal he'll name a plant Kid after him.) Fluffy until it's angsty, filled with found family feels, Greez & Cal, 1340 words. Spoilers for Jedi: Fallen Order and Jedi: Survivor.

---

Greez wasn’t joking this time.

Oh, sure, he joked about a lot of things. But when he looked at the terrarium, filled to the brim with seeds Cal had scoured from the ends of the known galaxy, he couldn’t help but get a little emotional sometimes. Everything that had been going on -- trying to find the Holocron, fighting off the Empire, defying death right and left? Yet somehow Cal had remembered to collect a few seeds, just because Greez said he liked them. It was enough to make a guy choke up.

One night he told Cal he was going to name a plant after him. He’d call it “Kid.” Cal laughed it off, with that little chuckle he used when he was afraid to really hope for something. Greez got the hint, but he ignored it anyway.

Greez debated over which plant to use. Featherfern, nah, too delicate. Cal might be skinny, but the kid was strong as anything in all the ways that mattered. Mushbloom? No, the plant was a living joke. Cal deserved something less goofy. He wrote the Dathomir plants off right away. He’d grow ‘em, but they were way too creepy for this.

He settled on the bonshyyyr, but he didn’t tell him. Cal got weird sometimes when Greez or Cere tried to do the heart-to-heart thing. He’d blush, or make some kind of deflecting joke, or even get sullen and snarky if he was really in a mood. So Greez figured he wouldn’t embarrass the kid any further by telling him the truth.

The little tree thrived, with sturdy lush growth that threatened to overtake the terrarium if Greez wasn’t diligent with his trimmers. Sometimes when Cal was out on a mission, Cere would find Greez grumbling, head half inside the terrarium, arms contorted to trim the leaves back in just the right way. She’d comment that she was glad he had a project. He’d mutter and wonder why he’d planted a tree from a planet where everything grew eighty thousand meters tall.

---

The bonshyyyr left the Mantis with him, along with a few of the other old-timer plants; the dreamwort, the kalpi, the gillypod. He knew Cal would never remember to look after them. The kid barely remembered how to look after himself, even if he’d grown a bit over the last year or two, losing the last of the pinched look to his cheeks, his face and arms exploding with freckles under dozens of alien suns.

It was rough, when they decided to split up and go their own ways. Cere was noble but resigned, talking about new opportunities to grow. He saw her wipe her eyes, though, when she thought he wasn’t looking. Merrin insisted that she needed to find herself and a purpose beyond vengeance, but she hugged him even harder than Cere had. And Cal? Greez didn’t know if he’d ever get over the way the kid’s face just… crumpled.

Greez cried with the rest of them. He gave Cal a fierce hug with every arm he had (three out of four wasn’t bad) and cried into the kid’s grimiest poncho. He didn’t care if the kid realized. His great-grandma always said there was no sense hiding what was clear as day.

He bundled up his plants and stepped down off the gangway, and the dust of a backwater world called Koboh floated up to greet him.

---

The years snuck by, and suddenly Cal was strolling into Pyloon’s Saloon like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It knocked the wind out of Greez, seeing the kid again. He’d grown more (surely he was done by now?), he’d grown a beard, and he looked like he needed a damn good dinner and a solid night’s sleep.

He hit the kid with a hug as hard as he could muster, and when they’d managed to catch up, he insisted on Cal getting some rest. Cal protested, as usual (kid was infuriating sometimes, how had he forgotten?), but within five minutes of curling up on the extra bunk in Greez’s room, he was out.

Cal wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough few years. Kid the bonshyyr had had a tough time transplanting to Koboh. Humidity was much lower here than Kashyyyk. Took a while to find a heat lamp that mimicked the one he’d had on the Mantis. Worst of all the plant had lost a whole branch, which had scared the hell out of him, but he’d done some research on the holonet and figured out it was a pest. It had been dicey for a bit there, but now the tree was doing better than ever.

He thought that maybe he should fill Cal in. Let him know he’d made good on his threat and named it after him. But he glanced up from the tree with its gleaming, tight-curled leaves and saw Cal, fast asleep but mumbling under his breath.

His heart sank. Kid might be doing fine.

Cal still wasn’t.

---

That first night back on Koboh, after they lost Cere, Greez finally told him.

“You… you named a plant after me?” Cal asked. He looked like a wreck, swollen eyes and blotchy face, covered in bruises from his fall in the desert. Greez knew he didn’t look much better.

“Yeah,” Greez said. “I don’t know if you remember, but we talked about it once. I was grateful, you know? That you brought me all those seeds for the Mantis, even with everything else going on.” He nodded over his shoulder at the bonshyyyr in his room. It stood proud and neat and sturdy, not a leaf out of place. “That’s Kid there. Looking better than ever.”

Cal tried to laugh, but the sound was too close to tears still. Ahh, they were both a mess. “Greez, you old softy.”

Greez shrugged. “What can I say? It’s made me happy, Cal. Every time I look at it, take care of it, fuss over it like Granny Pyloon used to do over me… It’s been nice. Especially when --” His voice cracked. “Especially when things are hard.” He wiped at his nose, sniffing. “Right, Kid?”

The little tree didn’t answer, but Cal managed a smile, his eyes bright. “I’m honored, Greez.” He swallowed, gazing off into the distance. “Hey. …you ever talk to Pili?”

---

Pili turned around, holding something nestled in her large, gentle hands. “I have just the thing for you, Greez.” She bowed her head. “Cal told me of your friend, and her sacrifice. I am so sorry. The Empire has taken so much.”

“I know,” said Greez heavily. “Cere was a special lady. She’d really found a home on Jedha. She might not have been a gardener, but I feel like she made that desert bloom, you know?”

“I understand,” said Pili. “Take this.” She pressed a tiny pot of burnt-orange sandy soil into his hands. “Keep it dry, and keep it cold. A harsh ultraviolet light or two, and just the rarest drop of water.”

“Thank you for this. I mean it. I know sometimes I tease Cal about his strays, but… I’m glad he met you.”

“I am glad, too.”

---

He did as she instructed. Blasted the little pot with harsh light, kept it chilly, kept it in an aridification chamber. And one day he got bold, and added just the smallest drop of water.

Greez waited. Held his breath for days, nervously checking up on the plant any chance he had. Finally one day he woke up to a tiny sprout, and he smiled for what felt like the first time in forever.

The sprout grew fast. Once a desert plant decided to grow, once it got that bit of water, it was ready. A sprout became a leaf, became two, became a stem, a bud.

Became a Jedha desert poppy. Its petals unfurled in silver-blue and violet, shimmering in the dry air, worth every bit of the work. Greez blinked back tears. It was beautiful.

“Hey there, Cere.”

#greez dritus #cal kestis #jedi: fallen order #jedi: survivor #jedi survivor #jedi survivor spoilers #jedi: survivor spoilers #jedi fallen order fanfiction #pili walde #jedi survivor fanfiction #my jedi fic

102 notes · View notes

angiezidler205 · 1 year ago

Text

Exhausted Wallaby

Hurt/Comfort Rockbert fanfic

Rocko woke up after a one hour nap. His eyes were extremely baggy, his clothes a mess, his whole house trashed, and Spunky sleeping on a large pile of dirty clothes. He got up and walked downstairs towards the kitchen. He made himself coffee and drank it out of the kettle, ignoring the burning pain in his throat. He then walked towards the door, taking his keys, and opened it to find Heffer and Filburt waving at him.

“Hey Rockooooh! You look awful buddy.”, Heffer said as he looked concerned. Filburt noticed the trashed house and looked at Rocko's clothes, “Have you been sleeping in a pile of junk?”. Rocko ignored them and brushed past them, “ Haven't actually slept turtle but thanks for the “concern” you four eyed freak.”. Heffer and Filburt were shocked to hear Rocko being rude towards them. Heffer then realized, “Rocko you're not going to work right? You said that today was your day off!”.

Rocko growled, “I don't and I think it's best that way. At least some of us Have jobs instead of staying with our mums!”. He slammed the door and sped off to work. Heffer felt hurt but he knew that he didn't mean it. “He didn't sleep again. Geez Filburt this is the fourteenth day that he's been like this! I'm worried about him. I'm worried about Spunky! He always forgets to feed him! Rocko needs to sleep!”. Filburt nodded and looked at the house, “Yeah but how can he with all that junk?”. They both thought about it and smiled at each other. “Let's do it!”.

Rocko made it to work on time and stood by the register. In about ten minutes the doors should open and everyone is gonna come in and demand for the new comic Really Really Big Man. Since the new movie is coming up, everyone has been buying this one because there's a free ticket inside to watch the movie with Big Man himself. Rocko watched as everyone overcrowded the door and pressed their face against the window. They watched him menacingly and impatient, like they expected him to open up early. Rocko ignored them and watched the clock go by and hoped time would stop.

He wished he was home asleep but since Christmas is coming up and the movie as well he's stuck here without any help at all. The good thing is that he'll get a holiday vacation in a week so he can finally sleep. The timer on his watch went off and he walked up to the door and unlocked it. Immediately everyone barged in and grabbed every comic there was. Rocko was thrown to the register and everyone crowded him, demanding to hurry up. He scanned, took money, gave change, and bagged the item. He does this without even blinking and no one noticed or cared. It took five hours before the crowd finally died down and the comics were almost empty. He was about to take his break until an old lady came by and slammed the comic on the counter.

“I can't believe that I have to pay twenty dollars for this little book! I have a family to feed and here you are taking every ounce of money I got! How do you sleep at night you little gremlin!?”, the old lady yelled as a few people agreed looking angry. Rocko felt his eye twitch and his ears went down immediately. He slammed his hands on the counter and smiled forcefully, “Good Question! I don't! I haven't slept for two weeks and been working my bloody arse off in here!! I have to take care of bigots like you because Apparently No One Can Read the Fucking Sign!!!”, he yelled as he pointed behind him. Everyone looked to notice that the sign said “Due to higher demands, and needing to purchase more, the New Really Really Big Man comic book will cost extra.”

“I guess you're too Stupid or Blind to even understand so I'll Dumb it Down for you. People buy lots of comics to get tickets. Store can't afford to buy more comics. Store must make comics More Expensive. That way more people can have comics. Okie Dokie!? Did that get through your thick metal skulls?!!!!”, Rocko said while faking a smile. The old lady was offended but Rocko spoke up. “I don't care if you stare at me ugly. I would rather see that than your wrinkled smile. Bet that the reason your husband left you! You bloody old fart.”, Rocko sneered. The old lady felt very hurt by this and placed twenty-five dollars on the counter, “K…Keep the change…”. She soon left with the book and Rocko stared at everyone else.

“Anybody else want to say something? Or are you just gonna keep your mouth open until flys make a home there?”, Rocko asked, annoyed.

“Rocko!!!”, A loud angry voice can be heard upstairs. Rocko stayed put and scanned the next book. Everyone looked at him then at the stairs. Some of them smiled, knowing that he's going to get fired on the spot. “Rocko Rama!!!!”, The voice yelled again.

“I'm Working Here you Bloody Fat Pig!!!!”, Rocko yelled back. Everyone looked at him shocked yet excited because he's going to get kicked out immediately. They heard loud footsteps coming their way and the boss came out looking angrier than a bull. “What did you call me, Rama?”, The boss asked while Rocko looked unamused.

“Did I stutter? I said I'm working here you Bloody Fat Pig!!”, Rocko yelled as he shoved the bag into the customer’s arms. The boss growled, “You little termite! I'll have you fired for that!!”. Rocko slammed his hands on the counter and faced him, “Yeah? And what then? You finally gonna get off your Fat Ass and work? I don't think so! I'm your Only Employee that's Working Full Time for Years!!!! You want to Lose that and Deal with these Bloody idiots demanding for a stupid book with pictures on it!? No! Because you're nothing but a Fat, Lazy, Piece of Trash that smells like sewage every day! I can see why you're still single!!”.

The boss stared at him shocked and every customer stared in horror. His boss then spoke softly but rudely, “Get back to work.”. Rocko rolled his eyes, “Yeah. Get back to being lazy.”. The boss left and Rocko looked at everyone. They looked down and kept their mouths shut. Rocko snorted at them and continued doing what he's doing. Four hours later he closed up shop and walked towards the door to open more boxes of comics. Yet, his boss blocked the door with his arms crossed.

“Go home Rocko. I'll handle it from here.”, The boss said and Rocko grew annoyed. “What? My words finally hurt you?”, Rocko sneered while trying to grab the doorknob. His boss took him and placed him in front of the clock in/out machine. “You need rest. Your attitude hasn't been getting better and if this keeps up then we'll both get fired.”, His boss explained. Rocko grumbled and clocked out. He then left the store, got in his car and drove off.

On the way home his stomach growled loud and Rocko clutched the steering wheel angry. He drove to the nearest drive thru, ordered food, and left. Once he finally got home, he noticed the lights were still on and frowned. He got out of his car and walked inside his house. It looked clean yet there's tons of trash bags at the corner. He growled knowing that he had to be the one to throw it. He stormed towards the kitchen and noticed Heffer and Filburt finishing cleaning the counters.

“And that's the last of it! Now we gotta go to Rocko's room and-”

“And what Heffer? Pile more trash by the corner for me to throw out? I didn't ask you two to clean my bloody house! I was going to do that later!.”, Rocko yelled. Filburt grew nervous, “W-When? You hardly clean around h-here for two weeks.”. Rocko rolled his eyes and noticed Heffer staring at his food. “Don't even think about it, pig. I got this for myself and you better not even Think about asking for my damn food!”, Rocko spat with venom.

Heffer held up his hands in defense, “I can't help it Rocko. It's a habit!”. Rocko frowned, “Yeah and what happened last time? You Died and went to hell. All because you're fat and full of gluttony you oversized sack of meat!!!”. Heffer winced at this and Filburt spoke up, “Rocko you need t-to stop! We're your friends!”. Rocko snarled angrily, “Friends? Friends!!! Yeah Right you two never even Respected me at all!! Always treated me like I'm your bloody punching bag!!! Well not anymore!!!”. He stomped towards the door and kicked it open, “I want you two Out!!!”.

Heffer and Filburt walked out sadly and nervously. They flinched at the hard slam. “Will you keep it down over there!!! People are trying to sleep!!!”, Ed yelled from his window. The door opened and Rocko stormed out and pointed at him, “Shut Up you Fat Ugly Green Shit!! I bet You're Hideous Face is the reason Your Kid Fucking Left!!! Now get your disgusting face back inside!!!! You're making everything around you more dead!!!!”. Rocko then went back inside and slammed it again. Heffer and Filburt can hear Ed sobbing in his room. They looked at each other worried.

Rocko stormed upstairs, eating his food on the way up, and barged in his room. He threw the trash on the side and lay in bed trying to sleep. Spunky was under the bed shaking. He's worried about Rocko and doesn't like how he's treating his friends. He then heard a growl and saw Rocko's feet meeting the floor and leaving the room. He then heard a lot of banging and stuff being torn open. He huddled in Rocko's shirt and hoped that the real Rocko would come back.

The next morning Filburt and Heffer watched as Rocko drove off again to work and rushed inside the unlocked house. They noticed that it was trashed again and Spunky sneaking downstairs scared. They immediately fed and gave fresh water to the puppy. Filburt then gripped his head, “I can't take it anymore!!! We need to get Rocko to sleep!!”. Heffer agreed, “But how!? We've tried everything!!!”. They both grew quiet until their eyes widened. They looked at each other fast.

“Norbert!!!”.

Heffer ran upstairs and searched through Rocko's room until he found an old note with Norbert's number. He ran back to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. He dialed quickly and waited for it to be answered.

“Hey Rocko! It's been a while since you've called!”, Norbert said in the other line.

“Uhhh this is Heffer.”, Heffer corrected.

“Oh! Sorry Bud uhh what's up?”

“We need your help. Rocko's been working too much and hasn't gotten any sleep. He's been rude to us, trashing his house, yelling at the neighbors, and always forgets to even take care of Spunky!”, Heffer yelled emotionally.

“..... I'll be right there.”

Rocko was again ushered home after nine hours of work and drove home, noticing only his room light was on. He got out of the car and got inside and noticed how clean his house was. He grew confused and walked up the stairs and noticed his room opened ajar. He walked in to see Norbert sitting on his bed with his arms crossed. Rocko frowned, “I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear it.”.

“I know. Which is why I'm going to help you sleep instead.”, Norbert said calmly. Rocko frowned at him, “With what gopher? Your furry chest? Please, like that would help.”. Norbert ignored the insult and took his hands. Rocko yanked them away angrily but Norbert took them again and pulled him close. Rocko tried to pull away but felt Norbert’s hand rub his back. He felt the tension calm a bit but he then tried to pull away. “Stop bewitching me Norbert. I'm not falling for your tricks!”, He sneered. Norbert pulled him into bed and laid him on his chest. He scratched his head knowing Rocko goes weak at that. Rocko felt heavy and groaned at the nice feeling.

“Fly me to the moon. Let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on A-Jupiter and Mars.”, Norbert sang softly as he rubbed Rocko's back.

Rocko immediately felt his eyes grow heavier and heavier.

“In other words, hold my hand. In other words, baby, kiss me.”, Norbert sang as he kissed his head.

Rocko felt everything fade to black and closed his eyes. Norbert noticed Rocko immediately passing out and sighed in relief. He looked up to notice Heffer holding a camera smiling nervously. “Heheh. Too soon?”.

Rocko soon woke up and felt better than before. He noticed he's wearing Norbert's PJs, his fur nice and clean, and his room spotless. He looked around until he heard the door open. Norbert walked in, wearing Rocko's clean shirt, while holding a tray full of breakfast. “Morning BedRock, how are you feeling?”, Norbert asked with a warm smile.

“I feel a lot better thank you. H-How long was I asleep?”, Rocko asked while Norbert placed the tray on his lap. “Four days!”, Norbert said with a smile. Rocko panicked, “Four Days!?!? I'm going to get fired!!!”. Norbert then held him down gently, “Easy Rocket I've already contacted your boss. He agreed that you'll start your vacation early and come back on January ninth.”. Rocko was relieved and began to eat. Norbert left the room and a few minutes later he came back with his food. They are together quietly and once Rocko finished his food Norbert took his dishes. Rocko gently stopped him and pulled him into a hug.

“I'm so sorry about how I acted towards you. I have no intention to hurt you Norby Beauty. I was just so exhausted I….”, Rocko explained while holding him close. Norbert nuzzled his neck, “Darling it's ok. Work can make everyone feel this way, you know. Yet I don't think you should apologize to me. Your friends called me as soon as you left and explained everything. We all cleaned, got you new groceries, threw out the trash, did your laundry, and took extra care of Spunky.”.

Rocko pulled away and panicked, “Oh no! I need to talk to them! I've said some awful things to them! And Spunky!!! My poor Spunky doesn't deserve to be neglected like that! I.. I don't deserve their forgiveness…”.

“It's ok Rock, we knew you'd never meant it.” Heffer said with a smile. Filburt agreed, “Yeah you'd honestly never even cursed before so we knew you're just tired and stressed.”. Rocko got out of bed and hugged them both tight and teared up, “I'm so sorry for ever calling you names! You guys were just trying to help and I've done nothing but yell at you!!! Can you please forgive me?”. Heffer and Filburt hugged him back tight, “We forgive you Rocko.”. They pulled away and heard a small excited bark. Rocko immediately looked down to see an excited Spunky. “Spunky!”, Rocko cried as he picked him up and hugged him tight. “I'm so sorry for neglecting you! You've must be so worried about me and hungry too!”, Rocko cried but soon laughed as Spunky licked his face. Norbert smiled and hugged them both. Heffer and Filburt soon joined the hug, happy to have their friend back.

“Hey when are we going to the ma-Euuuugh!!! Mushy stuff!”, Daggett complained. Norbert smirked and pulled him in.

“No! Nooooooooo!!!!!!”, Daggett yelled.

#crackship #rocko's modern life #angry beavers #Rockbert #hurt/comfort #headcanon #fanfics

25 notes · View notes