#thief-ditch

[drawnbythestream]

The part in The Thief where Gen is tired and intentionally slides off the horse stumbles into and out of a ditch and then just face plants and falls asleep. (I didn’t quite capture all the flailing stumbling motions I imagined while reading it, but I think I got close enough)

[mambo68]

Thief’s Ditch

[laurenfoxmakesthings]

Of course, only in Adelaide.

[fancyfade]

Honestly I do think of Cass's reading, and her initial desire and later refusal to try*, has a lot to do with her perfectionism and well... like "sore-loser-ness" (not saying that you're a loser if you can't read, but like. she perceives not being good at something as "losing" and she hates it).

in one of the really early Batgirl issues (#3? I can't remember?) we see Cass tries to save a man who writes a letter to his wife, and she starts trying to read and write after seeing how the man's wife was affected by his letter. Then it's kind of ditched for a while. Later, Cass and Babs have friction because Cass doesn't try to learn how to read and it makes Babs mad, and she belittles Cass in a moment of stress.

And like. For Cass, we see that a lot of fighting stuff (which she perceives as very important) comes naturally to her. Barbara spars with her with escrimas and Cass picks up on it in 5 minutes, just from the body language reading. Cass learns Shadow Thief's techniques while fighting him. She also values being perfect, being great right away. When she temporarily has lost her body-language reading, she asks Bruce how long it takes until she's as good as he is, re-training herself, and he says probably 10 years. She thinks David (her bio father who raised her as an assassin with no language) made her perfect in just 8, and there's the whole repeated quote - Perfect for a year, or mediocre for a lifetime? She chooses perfect for a year - agrees that she will fight Shiva to the death in one year after Shiva restores her skills, and intends that she will die then because she won't kill anyone else (and should note - she never does really doubt that she can beat Shiva, even though other characters do).

Anyway where I'm going with this:

We have Cass, and she's got to be perfect. That's her thing. She's great at picking up new fighting skills, she tries to learn how to talk but because her brain is literally wired differently it doesn't happen until the meta messes with her brain, then it happens overnight. Her re-gaining her skill is not something that emphasized as "she trains a lot" (though we do see her training a lot - it's not what causes it to be re-gained so quickly), it's the deal she makes with Shiva. When it comes to reading, this is probably the only thing that's been that she genuinely struggles with, a lot (due to how her brain was wired), that doesn't have a quick-fix. And Cass is a perfectionist so she is going to feel embarrassed when other people find it easy and she doesn't. the way she protects her feelings is by, once she fails, not trying again. If you don't try, you can't fail and you can't feel bad about it.

*for a while

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Mammon: flopping onto the couch next to MC "Alright, serious question. If I was an animal, what would I be?"

MC: "Definitely a raccoon."

Mammon: offended "A raccoon?! C’mon, why would I be a trash-diggin' rodent? I’m more like a golden dragon or somethin’!"

Levi: piping up from his spot on the floor "No, they're right. You’d be the kind that steals trash and gets stuck in vending machines."

Mammon: crossing his arms "I am not a trash gremlin!"

Asmo: passing by "Says the demon who hides in the shadows, trying to swipe someone's valuables."

Mammon: offended "Treasure ain't trash!"

Satan: "That's right. Which it makes you a thief."

Mammon: "It ain't no way I'm a thief! I'm just.. borrowin' some stuff!"

Asmo: "Yeah.. borrowing it. That's why it always ends up on Akuzon, isn't it?"

Mammon: "That's a mere coincidence!! But ditch that! Let's talk about something else."

Lucifer: sipping tea "Would you rather talk about how you got your arm stuck in a vending machine, trying to get a packet of chips for free last week?"

Mammon: trying to defend himself "The vending machine ate my coin so I just tried to get what I paid for!"

Belphie: "Yeah, right. We all believe that."

MC: "Mammon, you can't deny it. You're exactly like a raccoon."

Mammon: sighing in defeat “Alright, fine! But if I’m a raccoon, I’m the most legendary raccoon out there."

Satan: "Don’t worry, Mammon. We’ll make you a little crown out of bottle caps."

Levi: "And we could also build you a little fort by the trash cans outside."

Lucifer: "Sounds.. fitting"

MC: "I know right?"

Mammon: "Ugh!!! I hate every last one of ya guys!"

---

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

[khruschevshoe]

You think being dumped by text is hard? Imagine being one of the Tenth Doctor's exes (or not-quite-exes, we're counting brutal platonic break-ups here too).

[eightmakesonebraincell]

[fic rec mlist] ot8 x reader | multi x reader

main mlist | next (member-specific)

only general themes and tags are listed - please read through the author's specific tags and warnings

both sfw and nsfw fics are included. minors please dni with nsfw fics and respect the age restrictions put into place by the writers (suggestive, smut, and trigger warnings are highlighted in red)

🩶 favourites

into the aurora | @honeyhotteoks 🩶

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: idol!ateez x non-idol!reader, fluff, angst, smut, trigger warnings

length: 35/35 chapters [completed] - 208.6k

you didn’t expect to run into choi san outside of the venue, especially when your phone was dead and you were stranded in a random city. a kind offer for a phone charger turns into so much more, and you end up falling into a relationship with all eight members of ateez.

murphy's law | @atzfilm

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: alien!ateez, soulmate au, angst, fluff, smut, trigger warnings

length: 5/5 chapters [completed] - 98k

according to murphy’s law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. black holes circle each other until they collide and merge, a cataclysm so fierce, sends ripples soaring through the fabric, crossing thousands of kilometers within a fraction of a second, leaving behind a wave on the space-time continuum. that’s the simplest way you can describe meeting him. and yet, even that is an understatement.

dewdrops at dawn | @sunmoonjune 🩶

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: demon!au, fluff, angst, heavy suggestive content, trigger warnings

length: oneshot - 17.2k

you’ve never really believed in angels, or anything of the sort, but in a last ditch effort to escape a grave situation – you find yourself to praying for someone - anyone - to come help you.  “wow, you would not believe how fast angels are! I had to fight like six of them to answer your call!” 

oh my *** | @ohmyamor

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: guardian angel!au, fluff, angst, comfort, near death experiences

length: oneshot - 10.2k

everyone supposedly has a guardian angel, one that’s tasked to always keep their human out of trouble and on the right path of life. but you don’t just have one, you have...eight?!

like the moon | @sunmoonjune 🩶🩶

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, heavy themes, trigger warnings

length: 17/? chapters [ongoing] - 160k

it’s finally the day of your trial. you’ve been waiting for this day for years. will you succeed and become a warrior your clan can finally be proud of? or will you fail, and be banished from the village forever? 

the rainbow thief | @bluehwale

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: demigods!ateez, fluff, crack, angst

length: 2/3 chapters [indefinite hiatus] - 5.1k

camp half blood introduces you to a new life — new routines, a goddess as a mom, siblings you've only recently knew about, and of course, the eight friends (or lovers?) you made along the way.

first flight to hongkong | @byuntrash101

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: flight attendant!reader, smut

length: oneshot - 18.3k

yes, you’re suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but “surprised” doesn’t cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips

front row angel au | @bobateastay

pairing: ot8 x reader, some parts ot8-focused

genre: emo rock band!ateez x fangirl!reader, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, trigger warnings

length: 6/? parts [status unknown] - 17.9k

nil author synopsis

[new chapter added] misfits | @tainsan

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: college!au, fluff, angst, smut

length: 13/? chapters [ongoing] - 113.3k

when your world comes crashing down, the only people who are able to comfort you are the notorious group, ateez. you’ve heard rumours after rumours about the eight males who are as cold as ice, yet for some reason, they are the warmest people you know. when they offer you a place to live after your housing is destroyed by a fire, you end up finding out dark secrets that have been hidden for years.

without a trace | @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l 🩶

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: vigilante!au, action, angst, slight crack, heavy themes

length: 11/11 chapters + 10/10 podcast transcripts [completed] - 98.6k

vigilante work has been outlawed, thus sending nine prominent vigilantes either into retirement or into lower ground and, while some abide by the law, a few continue on. then, one day, a greater threat forces these vigilantes to come together once again, regardless of the law.

pirate king | @chaseatinydream 🩶

pairing: hongjoong x reader, wooyoung x reader

genre: pirate!au, fantasy, romance

length: 90/90 chapters [completed] - 251.8k

life as an amnesiac on board a pirate ship ruled by the one and only pirate king doesn’t seem very promising, but hey, anything’s better than becoming shark food.

this night together | @honeyhotteoks 🩶

pairing: yunho x mingi x reader, ft. seonghwa x san x wooyoung x reader

genre: a/b/o/omegaverse, fluff, angst, smut, trigger warnings

length: 14/? chapters [ongoing] - 126.5k

you’re finally getting your dream job, working with some of the best dancers in the business, but a job change means a break in your healthcare coverage and suppressants these days are expensive. going into heat at the studio pretty much seems like the worst case scenario, but you find yourself in the care of two alphas who won’t let you go through it alone.

not all that glitters is gold | @the7thcrow

pairing: seonghwa x san x wooyoung x reader

genre: action, adventure, fantasy, romance, angst, fluff, suggestive

length: 11/? chapters [ongoing] - 146.4k

as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.

making wishes | @hwaightme

pairing: seonghwa x wooyoung x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship to poly, smut

length: oneshot - 7.0k

making wishes on shooting stars, on burning candles, you wanted one thing to come true. seonghwa and wooyoung are more than willing to celebrate the birthday girl.

outlaw miniseries | @hongism

pairing: yunho x jongho x reader (part iii), san x wooyoung x reader (part vi - coming soon)

genre: outlaw!ateez, dystopian futurism, lore, angst, fluff, smut

length: 3/6 standalone parts [ongoing] - 14.8k

(part iii) ‘two for the price of one!’ the sign outside the shop had read, and well, you’ve never been one to pass up on a good deal.

(part vi) author synopsis coming soon

we ransacked the city | @tenelkadjowrites

pairing: hongjoong x seonghwa x reader

genre: richsnobs!hongjoong and seonghwa, badgirl!reader, angst, smut

length: 5/5 chapters [completed] - 31.4k

five years ago, torn between losing your wealth or remaining friends with hongjoong and seonghwa, you chose money. working on leaving your life of bad behaviour behind you, your days are now spent obeying your parents and playing the good girl in order to keep your inheritance. but when hongjoong and seonghwa suddenly return, everything is thrown upside down…and old habits die hard.

letters to a ruined king | @setsugekka (nb: links to ao3 as fic is no longer available on tumblr. author permission to share received)

pairing: hongjoong x reader, seonghwa x reader, yunho x reader, san x reader

genre: pirate!au, royalty!au, fantasy, romance, action, angst, smut

length: 20/20 chapters [completed] - 150.8k

if there’s one thing you remember as a mantra from growing up in a street thief guild, it’s ‘trust no one but your own, don’t get wrapped up with the wrong crowd.’ unfortunately, these seven pirates and their irate captain have left you with little choice.

as the world caves in (to eden) | @atzfilm (nb: links to ao3 as fic is no longer available on tumblr. author permission to share received)

pairing: hongjoong x reader, san x reader, wooyoung x reader, ? x reader

genre: apocalypse!au, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, trigger warnings

length: 11/? chapters [hiatus] - 55.2k

a mysterious virus has taken over the world, resulting in the undead and the new ‘eden race’ of humans. desperately trying to find your brother jongho with your friends, you stumble across another group in an abandoned hospital tent. strangely, they’re looking for him as well.

better than me? | @beahae

pairing: san x reader, ft. seonghwa x yunho x wooyoung x reader

genre: bf!san x reader x bf's best friends!seonghwa yunho wooyoung, smut

length: twoshot - 10.4k

it’s always been just a harmless game, flirting with your boyfriend, san’s, good friends. he’s even in on it. but one night, he starts pushing things further than ever before. 

last updated: 01 april 2024

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 13

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)  Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Warning! This chapter is pretty rough (I think), please check the tags for triggers before reading if you have worries. Part 13:

The plan had gone off without a hitch. The Ghost had been noticeably distracted ever since Tim had asked Jason to sit their attempts to capture him out. He’d been very grateful though that it hadn’t taken long for the Ghost to appear again in Gotham’s industrial area. Jason only had so much patience. 

Thanks to Babs’ newly upgraded cameras they’d had warning and time for everyone to get together. 

Herding the Ghost to their trap had been a cinch with him only getting away from them a few times. 

The trap was set in a dead-end alley near the power plant which had power lines running through the ground underneath. They were insulated so he wouldn’t sense them. They would only be a problem if he tried to phase through them.

The Ghost froze in place as the trap came to life with electricity every wall covered with the net. It wasn’t just electrified wire it was meant to create arcs of electricity. It needed to be visible, it needed to stop their quarry in place. Tim didn’t actually want to electrocute the guy if he could help it. 

Dick jumped down to land beside Tim and Damian, his escrima sticks ready. 

The Ghost swung around, taking everything in. Then he started to sink through the ground. It was the moment Tim had been waiting for. Everything hinged on this one theory being true; that he wasn’t just afraid of electricity, but that it would stop him from phasing through. He jumped back up with a startled yelp. 

As he turned to face them mouth a thin pressed line, Tim couldn’t help the grin of a well-executed plan.

“Gotcha.”

Finally they could get to the bottom of this! But no! Tim’s instinct warned him before his brain even registered what was happening. Something about the Ghost’s posture had changed; he was looking up, tensing his body for something. 

No!

Tim fumbled for the button, his last ditch attempt even as Dick and Damian sprung forward recognizing the look of someone about to fly. He’d tossed the EMP device earlier in the night and it had attached to the Ghost’s back. He pushed the button now. 

But the Ghost was already flying having taken off like a rocket. There was a half second delay and Tim realized with horror that even if the electromagnetic pulse did anything the Ghost was in the air. 

If it did anything he would fall. 

Oo o oO

There was a pulse like a wave of static and then Danny was dropping. 

Desperately confused he reached for his powers. Flight was as easy as breathing. Gravity was a mere suggestion. Or it should be! Nothing was happening and the roof below was coming rapidly up to meet him!

In reality it only lasted two seconds, but it felt like a terrifying eternity. His arms and legs moved uselessly; without his powers he had no control.

At the last moment he pushed his arms out. His right hand landed first, there was a sharp pain in his wrist before he curled up and rolled over his shoulder, landing on his back. Air punched out of his chest in a wheeze.

His eyes were wide staring sightlessly up at the clouds as he tried to suck air into his stunned body. He needed to get away before they found him. His core was an agitated scream in his chest. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t sink through the roof. 

He rolled up onto his knees with a pained groan, holding his right wrist protectively against his chest. Terror gripped his throat in a vice grip as he pressed his left hand flat on the concrete. He had to focus. Breathe, if he could just take a moment without panicking, he was certain he’d make his powers work. His core felt normal in his chest, they hadn’t suppressed him, not like Vlad did that one time. Frustrated tears pricked his eyes, he clenched his eyes shut, forced himself to take a deep slow breath. If he just found his calm, if he just focused…

There was not even the suggestion of any give. The roof was solid. 

Danny was solid.

There was a clatter and the high pitched whine of several grappling hooks reeling in. Danny’s head snapped up at the sound, eyes wide. He scrambled clumsily to his feet - his body felt so heavy, and his aching legs protested having to lift him.  

They gathered in a half circle around him on their near silent feet - the bats, towering shadows to his blurred eyes. Blood rushed in his ears.

Danny took a step back, barred his teeth in a snarl. 

“Don’t come closer,” he warned, the implied threat was a lie. He couldn’t do anything. He was powerless, weak as a kitten. It would be no trouble for them to capture him. But worse if they could neutralize his powers, they could hold him. Danny took another step back. 

His breath came in short, punched out huffs. Cold sweat made his hair and clothes sticky. Shadows lined in harsh white light leaned over him. Agony- No! Danny shook his head, he was not there. He stepped back, the back of his knees hit a low railing.

He would never go back. 

He turned and jumped.

Oo o oO

Tim didn’t hear any sounds but the blood rushing in his ears. He hadn’t expected the sheer panic the Ghost would have. None of them had. Not even the goggles had been able to obscure how terrified he was. His voice, the first time they’d ever heard him speak, had been thin and shaky, a hollow warning to not come closer. What was he so afraid of? They hadn’t come closer and yet-

Tim felt ill. What did he think they’d do to him, that he’d rather jump off the roof?! 

Jason had been right. He needed help. And now-

The others stood at the edge of the roof. Nobody was moving. Did that mean it was too late? There was nothing to be done?

Numbly, Tim walked up to the edge and looked down. For a moment he saw nothing, but then he caught movement further away, a flash of red- relief hit Tim in a whooshed out breath that left him weak-kneed. Jason had caught him. Tim turned around and sunk down to sit back against the railing.

He hadn’t even known Jason was out here. He must have turned off his tracker. Fuck, he was so relieved Jason had been there. 

He buried his head in his shaking hands. This was on him, his plan. 

His earlier exhilarated satisfaction of a well-executed plan was crumbled and soured, heavy in the pit of his stomach like lead. His gut turned ominously. If he threw up, it would be deserved, he thought despondently.

Oo o oO

Jason went on the Bats’ comm channel only to bark at them not to follow him. With Ghost in his arms shaking and breathing too fast and too superficial, covered in the cold sweat of terror, Jason didn’t want to know what he would do if they did follow him. 

He ran across the rooftops and used the grapple when necessary. The safehouse wasn’t too far away. 

There was utter silence from that sense where Jason usually heard Ghost’s call to him. It should be a relief not to hear his yearning and be unable to do anything about it, but it just felt wrong. Like something was missing.

Jason held him closer.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.” The words were useless, he knew that. Ghost had to be running from him for a reason even as he called for him - and Jason could understand why he’d been running from him, Jason was wrong inside, but Ghost was his only hope, and he couldn’t not chase. Right now the words were all he had, and he couldn’t let the others take him. They didn’t understand that he needed help. 

Jason’s anger over what had happened tonight was only eclipsed by his worry. Ghost might be afraid of Jason too, but not like this, not silenced by terror.

Jason repeated his useless assurances as he ran. Ghost was much too light in his arms, too thin beneath the worn clothing. Irrational fear that he would turn to dust in his arms, seized him. 

“You’re gonna be okay.” He said as much to reassure himself as Ghost.

“Please,�� Ghost rasped voice unused.

Jason froze, stopping in place, hoping he’d say more. He didn’t. He pushed uselessly at Jason’s chest, still trying to escape. Jason’s heart broke. Frustrated tears pricked at his eyes.

“Please let me help you,” he pleaded. 

Jason didn’t know if his words had gotten through to him or it was just exhaustion, but he stopped struggling. Cynically, Jason leaned towards exhaustion. At this point panic and fear had to be the only thing keeping him conscious at all.

They arrived at the safehouse finally. 

It was one the others didn’t know about. Jason had a few of those as insurance. It was seemingly just a lived-in apartment, open floor plan living room and kitchen in one with artfully placed clutter, a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom. There were weapons and supplies hidden in the spaces between the real walls and the fake walls that appeared to be the apartment’s boundaries, but you’d only realize that if you checked another of the similar units in the building and noticed this one was smaller. 

Jason landed them on the sill, and worked the window open. He didn’t bother with traps, because he didn’t use it often. Using it would have been a sure way to tip off the bats of its existence. No, this and other’s like it was for emergencies, and sometimes when he needed to stash a victim or witness somewhere safe temporarily. And even if someone should try to burgle the place, Jason had some decoy money there, a large flatscreen TV and some other easily taken electronics. It was unlikely they’d find the real supplies when there were easier money. 

He maneuvered them both inside, set Ghost on the couch and closed the window and the drapes. He pulled off his helmet and set it carelessly on the coffee table - it rolled off to land on the floor. Ghost had already seen his face and hopefully, he’d respond better to a human than a mask. 

Moving slowly, trying to make himself less threatening he kneeled down on the floor in front of where Ghost had curled up in the corner of the couch.

“Hey,” Jason said trying to sound calm, when inside he was everything but. He held out his hands in peace. “I’m not doing anything, I just want to talk.”

The emotionless goggles turned towards him. Jason got nothing from him, he only had the defensive body language to read him by.

“Please say something.”

Finally something happened, Ghost’s breath hitched and he reached up to push the goggles away. His eyes were red rimmed and blurry, and they closed as he rubbed at them. Still hiding his eyes he whispered so low Jason almost didn’t hear him, “-just want to go home.”

Jason lowered his hands and slumped forward. Letting him go would be the right thing to do, Jason could argue all the way till Sunday that it wasn’t safe for him right now, with his powers out of order, but that wasn’t why Jason couldn’t promise to let him go. He desperately needed answers. How did he make the pit silent? Was it just him or was there hope for Jason?

“I have questions,” he admitted.

Ghost slowly removed his hands. His eyes were blue and wary as he looked down at Jason. Jason held his eyes and he didn’t know what he saw in Jason as the moment stretched between them, like an elastic pulled to the point just before snapping.

Ghost looked away with a pained expression, and then, unfurling slowly, Jason felt that familiar yearning. Jason shook his head helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to help but didn’t know what to do.

“What do you need?” Jason asked.

Ghost looked back up momentarily and then away with a grimace. Shrinking in on himself. “Hey,” Jason said, frustration made him snappy, “I’m just trying to understand! It’s like you’re calling me, but I don’t know how to answer.”

That got Ghost’s attention, and his head snapped up holding his gaze intently.

“You can feel it?” He asked, and there’s this underlying desperate hope, shoved down by a voice desperately trying to hold steady.

“I can, and I just-“ He didn’t know what else to say, instead he reached out a hand to cup Ghost’s cheek. His eyes were wide and liquid and so blue before he clenched them shut and leaned into Jason’s touch with a small whimper. Jason didn’t dare breathe, as that small hum started, the one that was like a purr. Jason’s head was silent now, the underlying anger and frustration gone. In this moment he was just Jason. 

He didn’t even realize he was crying until tears spilled over his cheeks. He ducked his head. It had been some very long weeks. 

“How are you doing this?” He whispered, desperate to know. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Ghost answered hesitantly. 

Jason looked up to meet his tired eyes, the dark bags underneath his eyes were so dark and stark in his thin face he looked bruised. Jason looked away. Shame curled in his gut for pushing him this far. For being helpless not to give chase. He would have pulled his hand back if Ghost hadn’t still been leaning into his touch.

Quietly, he admitted, “I have this rage inside of me, you quiet it.”

“Hmm,” Ghost hummed thoughtfully with his actual voice, as he mulled over Jason’s words. “I’m pretty useless right now without my powers, so I don’t know if it’s anything I can help with permanently.”

“Okay,” Jason said quietly. Trapped in this strange bubble of quiet, desperate to break it he asked, “Do you wanna talk about what happened on the rooftop?”

The purring came to a stuttering halt. 

“That’s a no then,” Jason stated. Of course he didn’t want to talk about that, that should have gone without saying. Stupid. He sighed and stood up, drawing his hand back along with it.

“I’m just getting on the couch,” he assured when Ghost protested wordlessly. He sat down leaning heavily into the plush couch. After a moment he lifted his arm in invite. It took five long seconds before Ghost tucked himself underneath the arm. Jason squeezed him momentarily in a pitiful attempt at comfort, but it was all he could do. 

It took a moment but the purr started up again. The feeling of contentment washed over him.

Jason didn’t know how long he sat there, letting Ghost’s purr soothe his frayed mind, but he sat there so long he started to feel the temptation to just close his eyes and sleep. That wasn’t helpful. Ghost himself had fallen asleep at some point, he discovered, as he shifted and found him blinking awake startled. 

The purring stopped. Wary eyes watched him as he moved away.

“Easy,” Jason said lowly as if he actually was trying to soothe a feral cat, “I’m just gonna check to see what food options we have.” 

He watched until Ghost leaned back into the couch. His eyes were mere slits watching Jason when he turned towards the kitchen. 

Ghost needed to eat and making food was definitely more useful than falling asleep. He walked over to the cupboards, and couldn’t help but yawn as he did so. He opened the cupboards one by one, searching for something easy. A lot of the things here had technically expired and were mostly there for appearance sake. The dried herbs and spices, had probably lost most of their flavor, so actually cooking was out of the question, not to mention he didn’t have fresh ingredients here, but one of the canned soups would probably do fine. 

He turned, tomato soup can in hand to ask if that was fine only to find the couch empty. Carefully he set the can down, so he wasn’t tempted to throw it. His hand clenched into a fist reflexively with no can to hold. He walked over to the living room side of the room, just to make sure he hadn’t just moved. 

He wasn’t there.

He was gone.

Jason sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. Of course he was.

Nothing had been disturbed, not the drapes nor the windows. Everything was exactly as Jason had left it. His powers must have returned. Whatever Tim had done hadn’t been that long lasting, a couple of hours at most. He would have simply gone right through the wall.

Of course he had left as soon a he had a chance. Jason hadn’t given him reason to stay. He’d had his chance to talk and he’d wasted it just sitting and basking in his presence.

He leaned his forehead on his hands and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

He only had himself to blame.

-

So this happened... this is better/worse? At least they got to hug?

Anyways, I think I may go back to shorter tumblr parts now that these two chapters are done (if you're curious this is chapter 7 and 8 in my doc and that's what they'll be on Ao3). The last chapter really couldn't be split and this chapter only had terrible places to split it. Better to end on sad Jason.

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Update: next

[ghostchems]

thief - silco x female!reader

desperate for shimmer, you steal some from the last drop and make your escape

me less than an hour ago:

tags: first time writing silco! let me know what ye think. PLEASE CHECK OUT THE FOLLOWING WARNINGS: drug addiction, drug abuse, shimmer, shimmer abuse, p in v sex, fingering, silco is a bad man and reader is v desperate but also kinda into it? 2.2k words. ao3 link.

The pavement thuds beneath your feet, running like your life depended on getting away. You’ve stolen something, something so small it couldn’t possibly be missed, right? Your hand grips it so tight, afraid that if you can’t feel the smooth glass it will somehow disappear from your fingertips. Small pieces of rubble start to get into the holes in your shoes which leads to you slowing your run to a steady jog and then peeling off into the next alleyway. You are panting, trying to catch your breath as you slither deeper into the dimly lit street. A success. It was a success. You were surprised by how easy it was. You slipped into The Last Drop at peak business hours (12am) and mingled within the crowd, pickpocketing one of the servers of a “shimmer shot”. You hung around for about fifteen more minutes and then peeled out of there.

You only took enough to give yourself a little push. The withdrawal symptoms have been intensifying over the last few day, to the point that this small instance of thievery seems justified. Money is tight. You’d buy some if you could. What is the harm of taking some from the largest producer in the lanes? They wouldn’t miss one small vial. They probably don’t even know it’s gone. You open your hand to look at it, the purple liquid glowing in the darkness of the alleyway. A shattered breath leaves your lips, feeling the familiar shaking in your hand and the buzz in your head. You could take it right now, swallow it down in one gulp, instead of saving it for when you get home. It would give you more energy for the remaining trek, wouldn’t it? You’re too trapped in your thoughts to notice him emerge from the shadows.

“Give that here, girl.” There’s an edge to Silco’s voice but also an air of exasperation. You’re wrenched from your thoughts only to meet his mismatched glare, one eye cool blue and the other black with a fiery orange iris. The Eye of Zaun. Your breath catches in your throat, your hand immediately closing around the purple vial.

“This is mine.” You’re not convincing anyone.

“You think I don’t recognize my own product?” Cold and unamused. Silco steps closer to you, his orange iris fixated on you as he holds his hand out. “Hand. It. Over.”

“Please. It’s so small. I… I went through a lot to get it.” You are sputtering, the idea of the vial being ripped from you almost bringing you to tears. He can see it in your eyes — you’re addicted. Addicted to his drug. An opportunity has presented itself to him, should he be in the mood to take it. Silco says nothing, his hand still outstretched to you. You give a strained whine and hand it over, your hand shaking as you drop it into his palm. “Be thankful I am letting you off with a warning, girl.” He hisses, closing his hand around the vial.

“Wait.” Your hand latches onto his coat, a bold move but you don’t want him to leave. Silco’s face twists in annoyance but he stays silent, even as you close the distance between the two of you. A last ditch, desperate effort. Your hand feels the soft material of his jacket lapel under your fingers. Silco’s jaw tightens, his mismatched glare boring into your face. You exhale, drifting your fingertips to the collar of his shirt and stroking where it meets his neck. He doesn’t stop you, which makes you push the boundaries further, touching his neck and then his jaw. Silco has seen this many times before but… but it’s been a while since he’s let himself indulge. He’s a busy man — ensuring the successful distribution of shimmer hidden beneath legitimate business dealings all while trying to raise a daughter. Your desperation is so delicious to him in this moment, his lips twitching into a barely perceivable smirk. You chew on your lower lip as your hand creeps further up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. He hasn’t shooed you away yet, much to your surprise. You wonder why but the thought is clouded by your extreme awareness of the vial of shimmer in his hand, so close to you now. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you raise yourself up on your tippy toes in order to reach him. You lean in, the tips of your noses touching before you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“P-please, Silco.” You’re begging now, your lips against his, feeling his soft breath start to pick up. You tilt your head and kiss him again, starting off with light, sensuous pecks before licking into his mouth, tasting the smoke on his tongue. Silco’s mouth drops open further, allowing you more access, his tongue curiously working against yours but letting you lead. Your spare hand moves up his chest then closes around his hand that holds the vial. All you have to do is work it out of his hand or make out with him enough to make him not care anymore. Easy, right? You embellish a moan into the kiss and then drag your teeth along his bottom lip.

Silco’s arm shoots out and seizes you by the neck, driving you back into a nearby wall. Your fingertips brush against the vial just as you’re thrown backwards, your hands moving to clutch at his arms. Air depletes from your lungs while you gasp, your eyes bulging from their sockets. Silco is strangling you, squeezing the air from your body but his face is cold, indifferent. He lifts the vial so that it’s in your view, secure between two fingers. Your grip on his arm loosens and your eyes fall to the shimmer, once again within your grasp. He tilts his head, watching your reaction to it — expecting nothing short of you reaching out to grab it yourself.

“All that trouble for the smallest amount — not even enough to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay for long.” Silco hums and starts to unscrew the cap of the vial with his fingers. *You must need it.” He brings the vial just short of your lips, your breath catching in your throat. Your mouth waters from how close it is, practically able to taste it on your tongue. A groan rumbles up his chest and he loosens his grip on your neck and slips his hand behind your head, fingers knotting in your hair. He tilts the vial up, the shimmer flowing steadily down your throat. You’re barely able to swallow it down before Silco’s mouth is crushed against yours, the vial shattering on the ground as his hand moves to squeeze your butt. It feels like he’s devouring you, losing yourself in him and the shimmer that explodes in your system. Your body lurches forward with a shriek, your nerves firing on all cylinders but he keeps you caged against the wall with his strong arms.

“Turn around.” He demands in a low growl against your lips. You find yourself doing as you’re told without thinking twice, clumsily moving your body while your head feels like it’s floating off of your shoulders. Even from the small amount your vision is already blurred and your limbs are loose, disconnected from the orders your brain is giving. Silco grows impatient, his large hands grab you by the shoulders and forces your chest against the wall, a shiver running through him at just how pliable you are beneath his fingers. You groan, your head spinning from the sudden movement, lolling to lean back on his shoulder. His breath is hot in the shell of your ear as his hands start to tug at your waistband, fingertips brush along the sensitive skin on your hip giving you goosebumps. Your face flushes, heat spreading through you as you start to fully comprehend that how badly he must want you. You arch your back into him and you can feel him already half hard against the curve of your ass.

His cock pulses at the movement, a low grunt in your ear as he starts to work your pants down. A slender finger strokes along your slick folds, earning quiet whimpers from you. Each stroke applies more pressure than the last until his finger is deep inside you, massaging at your inner walls. You can’t help but moan, the shimmer heightening some senses yet dulling others at the same time but you know that this feels unbelievably good. Silco slips two more fingers in, easing you open to prepare you for his throbbing cock, giving a satisfied groan by how receptive you are.

“An obedient little whore, willing to do anything for a taste.” He hisses in your ear while he removes his fingers from you, his other hand working down his slacks. You feel how wet you are, your juices running down the insides of your thighs. Silco gives himself three quick strokes, spreading your slick along his shaft. You try to angle yourself as he lines up with your entrance, raising yourself up on your tippy toes and keeping your front press against the wall. “Good girl.” He hums right as he plunges himself inside you, your walls stretching around him to adjust to his size. You curse under your breath, the only coherent sounds you’re able to make. Silco manages a few strong pumps before he falls out with an annoyed grunt, fingers digging into your hips and pushing you further against the wall. The head of his cock presses against your entrance but when he thrusts, it slips and runs along your wet lips. You whine and grind against him, seeking out his touch so desperately. The shimmer amplifies it and she feels everything, from each throb to the veins on the understand to his neat pubic hair that brushes her with each thrust.

A strangled growl rips from his throat and he hooks his arm underneath one of your legs and raises it to pin it against the wall. You’re fully exposed to him now, spread apart and vulnerable — but you don’t care, you’re committed and into it now. You’ve stolen from the Eye of Zaun only for him to let you off with a quick fuck, presumably as a warning. Silco positions himself again and fucks into you with a sharp breath, holding still as he presses his nose against your ear. His hips snap again and your mouth drops open, a deep moan tumbling out of it. He fills you so perfectly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes your head spin and your muscles contract. You push back against each of his hungry thrusts, his thighs slapping against your ass loud enough that it echoes down the alleyway. Silco’s hand finds it’s way to your hair and pulls at it, twisting your head to face him.

He wants to see you. He wants to see the purple in your eyes, how heavy your eyelids must be by now, and how clenched your jaw must be. You meet his gaze and he sees most of what he’s looking for but your jaw is looking slack, relaxed even. Silco pounds into you once more and holds himself still, a huff leaving his lips as he watches your eyes flutter, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. You are so ripe for the taking that he can’t hold back, he has to chase it, to break you down in his arms and spill his poison inside you. His thrusts become frenzied, so deep and reckless that you can hardly see straight. Your eyes squeeze shut and you give another quiet moan, nails digging into the cement wall. He watches as the immense pleasure twists your face, making him growl and press his forehead hard against yours, feeling his sharp breaths on your lips. Silco doesn’t kiss you but he keeps his eyes on yours, the gentle lull of his teal eye and the combative danger of his orange one, both of which have a small tint of purple from your blurred vision. Two more thrusts and he’s there, flooding you with his cum as you feel his shattered breath on your face.

He slinks away, leaving you quivering against the wall, dropping your knee so your feet are on the ground. There’s nothing left for you to focus on, nothing more for you to feel and you start to spiral, your head leaning into the cement wall. Is he gone? It’s all too much. You’re head spins and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ground yourself as a shiver downs your spine. Just as you’re about to sink to the ground, you feel his warm breath against your neck. Silco slips something into your jacket pocket.

“For your troubles.”

You’re not sure how much times has passed since the words filled your ears. When you turn around he’s gone, but you feel like the rush is finally wearing off. You shamefully pull your pants back up, your gaze darting around with the realization that anyone could have seen. The same rubble in your shoe stabs into the balls of. your feet. You lean against the wall, still dazed when your hand settles in your pocket.

You pull out another vial of shimmer and you’re left with the same dilemma.

Take it now? Or at home?

[boyinatown]

Hello, could I request a scenario of Samuel with a reader who is stoic but very gentle and obssessed with playing violin?

I'd love to see the scenario applied to Gun and Goo but just Samuel would have me praising your godly writing skills.

Have a nice day!

MUSIC TO HIS EARS

Warnings - none

Pairing - Samuel , Gun & Goo x GN! Reader

A/n: Sorry if this wasn’t good, I’ve had some tough weeks lately. All the requests will be done, just a slow process. Thanks for requesting. 🍁

SAMUEL SEO

The first time Samuel met you was when you walked into his broadcasting studio, signing a contract to be a live violin player for your fans. You were a well known musician, not to mention : very attractive. He knew he couldn’t let you go, thus making you his with or without a contract involved

It was a late night the one time you chose to play outside for people passing by as a side gig near a restaurant to set a theme attracting customers to walk in and gaze upon your figure holding your violin, strumming the strings with your violin bow closing your eyes to focus. Seeing small pop up melody’s in your vision, after you slowly lower your bow the audience claps some putting money in your box.

Bowing at them you recognize a figure , a huge one at that between the crowd: your boyfriend. His small cloud of smoke coming closer forming a path behind him the smell marking the sky that once was scented as rainy. He held out his hand to help you off the stage stepping off you can’t help a small smile creeping upon your face.

‘ You’ve done it again, caught my heart, thief. ‘

‘ oh wow, charming. ‘ You teased him making his chest go up and down along with his signature laugh, the one you’d recognize from a million.

The one melody that you quite like, a lot at that.

JONGGUN PARK

Never in his life did the villain in everyone’s eyes, fall for a Angel with the hands that controlled his heartbeat with just a gentle strum on their violin. Seems like this angry storm had been calmed by the sun, once and for all.

‘ You were awesome again up there, no idea how you do it.. ‘ large hands with some scars for accessory massaging your smaller ones without even a speck of one. Finger carrying a diamond ring, one that showed you were his and he was yours. Jonggun park, the fearsome man who walked the streets of Korea to cause chaos and trouble now in-front of you kissing your delicate palms.

‘ I appreciate you Gun, Really…but these gifts…don’t you think their too-‘

‘Too?’ He asked urging you to finish your sentence, looking through his lashes at you pouting knowing you hated it when he spent a lot of money on you after your shows. In your vip room to take a small break before being occupied by interviewers and your attention being taken somewhere else then him. It bothered him, so these gifts were a small “ negotiation” for you to ditch them and spend time with him instead.

It was funny, some thought Gun was the one who wore the pants in the relationship. If only they knew how you’ve got him in the palm of your hands, your delicate hands.

The same hand he once kissed again, just now, with love.

JONGGOO KIM

Music was always your escape from the harsh reality you lived in, it was a small distraction really. It helped you also forget your very extroverted boyfriend who always demanded you to either play games with him or go outside to just “mess around” lucky for you, even music manages to tame a walking tornado like him.

You were in your room seated onto comfortable sheets and blankets surrounded by huge plushies and pillows. Laptop near you along with some sheets of paper where you noted important stuff for your small song. Everything was going so well, almost if it weren’t for your —

‘ babeeeee…c’mon you’ve been doin’ this for HOURS. Take a break, hey look a’ me! Just one minute! Can we please just talkkk..’ Goo Kim, the most loud & energetic person you’ve met, your boyfriend hanging onto your waist with his arm face on your back laying on his stomach beside you.

If you didn’t love him, you’d had kicked him out of your shared room and left him to stand in a corner as a form of time-out. Sighing you start playing your violin ignoring his whines and annoying noises that formed out of his mouth. Losing yourself to the focus you almost, just almost didn’t notice the way his grip loosened on your waist falling onto the bed.

Soon enough, snores were the only sound you could hear with your soft playing that faltered into being put to a stop, looking over your shoulder you see your beloved asleep holding onto a plushie he grabbed. He looked peaceful and at ease, you place your stuff aside resting your hand onto his head massaging through his blonde locks making him shift in his sleep and smile.

At lass , the tornado had came to an end, and you had been hypnotized by sleeping next to him.

[moodymisty]

(really sorry if this is sent more than once, firefox crashed right when I hit Ask so im re-sending it just in case)

Local Konrad apologist here to request a continuation to your 'Sevatar hunting you' oneshot you posted awhile back. sfw or nsfw, either is fine

(if you dont want to continue that plotline, np!! Just literally any Sev content would be hype as fuck, not gonna lie. love that man sm)

and i hope you and your pidges have a wonderful day❤

Soft continuation of this request

Author's note: Hell yeah I’ll continue that one! I love Sevatar <3 I hope this is ok! It didn’t quite flow the way I like but I don’t want to hold it up forever

Relationships: Sevatar/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lewd kind of, Violence and gore warning, Pet play technically? Sev calls you his little pet, Dubcon, Biting

When Sevatar had captured his prey, he made sure not to let it go. He dragged you back between his teeth to his den aboard the Nightfall, and you haven’t seen a Salamander since.

Sevatar has done much work in making sure your base needs are tended to- such as food and water to keep you healthy and soft - while on the Nightfall.

You are most likely the most well kept baseline aboard the ship, and many others refer to you snidely, jokingly, as Sevatar’s prized little pet.

He does a lot of prowling around to keep other Night Lords away from his catch, predator proofing his quarters.

While most Night Lords would hesitate to disobey him, or tread in quarters not their own or of their stature, Sevatar knows that his little pet is worth the risk.

You’re soft, clean and fragile, and unlike many of the serfs aboard who know how to hide and not be interesting enough to toy with, you whimper and cry and beg enough to make an Astartes mouth wet with drool and his hearts pump faster.

You don’t do as much anymore- With the Salamanders long gone that wound has faded, and you know despite his demeanor, Sevatar doesn’t break his toys. He seems to take quite good care of them actually, and despite the wounds he leaves in your body, the food he gets for you and the quarters you live in is almost comparable to life with the Salamanders.

Sevatar is returning to his quarters, looking downward at his knife when he feels as if something is off. He puts his knife back in its sheath, turning the corner to finish his trip to his quarters.

His body goes rigid when he notices the door is open, locks busted and completely torn apart. Only one glance inside confirms you’re gone. Your scent is fresh still however- this only just happened.

Sevatar runs down the halls, slamming into the shoulders of other marines who quickly try to give way to him, and halfway through the hall a singular Night Lord yells:

“If you’re looking for your pet, the idiot is taking her towards the barracks.”

He also hears the same man mumble about how he warned the thief, and that he wants to see his how Sevatar will display his guts for being a blackhand.

He catches up with the thief in the halls, spotting him carrying you with a hand clamped over your mouth. The other arm is around your waist, legs dangling and kicking uselessly.

Sevatar approaches him from behind and pulls out his knife and closes the distance lightning quick, slicing the wrist around your mouth so he doesn't crush your head. The Night Lord instinctively drops you- Sevatar hears your yelp as you crumble to the metal floor and presumably twist something - trying to defend himself first and foremost. Sevatar had the advantage however both in surprise and sheer strength, and within moments manages to get the slightly smaller Night Lord on the ground.

You can only watch as the two throw punches and tear at each other, eyes wide.

You hear the crunch as Sevatar’s knife drives through ceramite armor, reaching the black armoring suit underneath. The younger Night Lord attempts to clamp onto Sevatar's body but his one wrist is mangled and won't listen, while the other attempts to grab his neck in a desperate last ditch effort.

The first stab managed to crack ceramite armor like the outer shell of a bug, it takes a second blow for him to stab through his black carapace, and reach his organs. The marine lets out a shout as Sevatar's gauntlet gets covered in bright red blood, and you can only watch in a frozen stare as he mangles the younger night lord's body into a crushed, bloody mess.

Sevatar finishes by standing up, and grinding his head into the floor with his boot, splattering blood all over the floor.

A few Night Lords pass by, rolling their eyes at the mess and speaking along the lines that he had it coming, for disobeying Sevatar.

One also mentions that Sevatar wasted a meal by crushing the Astartes like that, and even just the implications of him feasting on the man’s brain matter has bile rising in your throat.

Blood is still on your face from his initial attack, alongside whatever splattered your way as you laid on the floor and watch him crush your kidnapper. Sevatar leans closer, and he laughs when he smears it across your face with his gauntlet.

He’s examining you for any damage, and other than a sprained wrist from when the Night Lord dropped you to the floor, you’re unharmed.

“Messy.”

You say nothing, but instead lean forward and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. Sevatar noticeably stiffens.

He supposes in your mind he is your savior. The Night Lord who had broken into his quarters more than likely wanted to toy with you for a bit until you broke, then throwing you into the garbage.

It’s good to know that you’re attached to him. That you know he is your best option, and that you won’t consider trying to sneak off. While he loves it when you cry, when you beg him to stop, there’s also a part of him that loves that you want him. How lately, some of your begging has turned into cute little whimpers.

Picking you up off the ground to return to his quarters you latch to him like he’s going to drop you as well, arms around his neck.

He likes the feeling.

Perhaps some of the other Night Lords would prefer it if you ran, if you hated him, but Sevatar wants you to want him. He wants to feel that rush.

He hasn't had his armor off in about it a week, but they're safe enough in Imperium space; He can take it off for a bit.

He won't let you out of his sight while he does so however, setting you down right in front of the armoring platform as he has the serfs and mechanical arms take away piece after piece of ceramite. It can sometimes take almost a half hour to armor up a marine, removing the pieces is significantly shorter. He leaves his black armoring suit on to take off in his quarters, and pushes you back there like he’s herding an animal.

He looks briefly and notices how that Night Lord broken open the lock; He'll remember that.

He watches you quickly scurry inside of his quarters, his den, sitting on the bed and trying to pick at the astartes blood coagulating on your face. You look so small on the massive bed, and the way you curl your legs up exaggerates the difference.

"I was asleep when he broke in... I didn't have time to hide or find you."

Sevatar laughs at the idea of you being able to hide or run from an astartes.

"Just shows that I need to keep a closer eye on you. You make a lot of trouble for me."

The way you look at him is concerned. You think he's considering getting rid of you. That you cause too much trouble for him. That couldn't be less of the case. He knew what he was getting into when he stole from the Salamanders.

Walking closer he stands and towers over you, seeing the hesitation and fear in your eyes when his hand comes close to your face. Instead of your neck however, it wraps around your jaw, and he forces your mouth to open with his thumb.

"But you're a good little pet, aren’t you.”

He loves the way your mouth wraps around his thumb- warm, wet, like the inside of a wound. Your hands rise up to wrap around his wrist, while he pushes you down laying on the bed.

“I should get you one of those tattoos.”

Sevatar removes his thumb from your mouth and grips your hair, pulling your neck to the side and exposing you vein. He can see your heartbeat through your skin, along with the myriad of old scars and healing bites he’s left there.

It’s his favorite part of you; Nothing else is like the feeling of your life and soul between his teeth.

He drags his teeth down your neck and feels the way your hands clamber at his shoulders, until he finds a spot he likes and sinks his teeth in.

Your hands slap at his shoulders and you whimper, gasping in pain as his dull teeth pierce your skin. His tongue is coated in that tangy, iron taste, the salt of your skin mixing. You taste delicious- the feeling of your soft flesh underneath his hands and in his mouth makes his cock throb.

A part of him imagines biting down harder, drawing more blood and ripping your skin. The crunch of vein and bone. But he doesn’t want to damage you that much, and risk loosing his catch.

“W-what tattoo?”

You breathlessly speak. Sevatar knows some of the other- usually older - Night Lords have been tattooing their favorite serfs; Staking a claim on them.

He doesn’t need to stake claim on what everyone already knows is his, but the idea of his name, or his variation of the Night Lords symbol adorning your delicate skin rouses a part of him.

He bites again, and you take a sharp inhale- heels digging into the bed. Your thighs are forcibly spread apart to make room for his massive body, weight holding you down. He feels your heartbeat in his mouth, your very life is so close.

“You’ll see.”

[cupcakeslushie]

love the kendratello au, very fucked up!! In the au does kendra call donnie othello to his face and, at the very least, does donnie at least get a silly purple dragons jacket😭

That’s actually something she actively avoids, not wanting to trigger any memories of their rivalry with the nickname. She sticks to either Donnie, or pet names like “cutie” or “sweetheart” really cloying stuff.

I feel like I need to design him a cool tech thief outfit. The jacket thing they ditched in high school (even though I’ve definitely drawn Jeremy and Jace wearing theirs lol. Let’s just say they don’t wear them on missions 😂). Kendra got Donnie a pretty limited set of clothes to wear around the hideout.

[zirconika]

nine lives of a thief

ONE | living in high cotton

NAVIGATION . MASTERLIST

This chapter is part of a series entitled 'Nine Lives of a Thief,’ but you may choose to read each part as a oneshot. Click the link to view the series masterlist!

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 4.1k SUMMARY: Years after your first love broke your heart, you’re stunned to see him among the newly welcomed group of survivors in Alexandria, and his return might just be the cure to your heart that’s been malfunctioning ever since he left. Your personal goal to put everything in the past is interrupted by his mission to win you back. WARNINGS: Major angst in progress. Talks of a miscarriage and a former abusive relationship. SETTING: First few weeks in Alexandria and pre-apocalypse flashbacks

The last time you spoke to each other, the two of you were getting high in your parents’ Chevrolet Cavalier that you stole. On your ring finger rested a bejeweled stone he’d given you, promising you his love. 

I’m gonna marry ‘ya, he had told you. You believed him more than you believed any god in your life. You were going somewhere far away together, ready to leave behind the life both of you had. To him, leaving meant leaving Merle. But to you? It meant leaving everything behind.

And now, there you were. You no longer sported the voluminous curls the eighties deemed fancy, your face was bare, and you were older. He couldn’t take your eyes off you, and he wondered if you could also tell how much he’d changed ever since…

Well, ever since he ditched you. And most of all, he wondered if you were still carrying the same indignation you had when he left.

For the first time, your eyes laid on him from afar. Of all the many survivors you expected to find within the walls of Alexandria, you didn’t expect this damn asshole.

He watched as your face went from bliss to raw recognition, his heart thumping faster and heavier in every passing second you didn’t dare to walk over to him, until you did.

Oh, he didn’t know what to make of the world around him as you came closer. It was just like seeing you for the first time again, but this time he was begging the Earth to swallow him whole. 

By the time you were standing in front of him, the archer was at a loss of things to say, but also the power of saying it. Seconds passed and a look of doubt and uncertainty kept flashing on his face, and yet nothing came out of his mouth. 

You were just as bad. God, you hated the feeling in your bones that wanted to throw your arms over his shoulder. He was alive and breathing. The closest thing you could do was give him a tight smile.

“Hi,” you tell him with a smile. “I—uh, it’s been, what, thirty years?”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh, and he was grateful to all the saints and gods in the world no matter how much he lacked faith that some force of destiny had brought him here, and that you were still safe. 

The weight in his chest was slowly beginning to lift. Maybe it really is all in the past. 

“Yeah, m’still Daryl, though. You?”

You chuckle. “Still [Y/N], sadly. Y’know, uh, I was actually just about to head out to the porch with a beer. You…wanna come with me?”

Then came the weight. You noticed rigidity returning to Daryl’s stance, and you instantly regretted having asked. 

You chuckle nervously. “You don’t have to, I just… Thought you looked—”

He shook his head to assure you. “Nah, yeah, I wanna come with ‘ya. Let’s go.”

The air was cold, but it didn’t bother you as much in the presence of Daryl Dixon. You wanted to beat yourself over the fact that he had so much control over you all thanks to the scent of his you could recognize anywhere. Heck, you smelled him before you saw him. The moment that you got a whiff of him just a few minutes ago, you knew you were bound to crumble. It’s only thanks to the bottle of beer in your hand that you’re able to comfort yourself.

He leans against the porch’s post as you lean opposite him. He’d changed indeed. You eye him with deliberation: his hair was darker, longer. Wrinkles were present in places where you used to kiss him. You shake the thought away. “Not surprised you’re a survivor.”

An unsaid anguish hung between the two of you. Daryl crossed his arms to gnaw at his thumb. He never seemed to outgrow that habit, and you couldn’t help but feel comfort from the familiarity.

“Have ‘ya been here right from the start?” he asked to break the ice, taking a sip from his bottle so he’d have something to do with his hands when you spoke.

“Yeah, I—uh—bought a lot here when they were still preselling, so I got it for a pretty good deal.” You shrugged. Moving away from the post you were leaning on, Daryl thought you were going to leave with no farewell, but instead you just set the beer down. “Y’know the house you and your folks holed up together in? That was mine.”

You could see heat rush to his face, and you could tell he felt bad over the prospect of you giving up your house for them. Daryl’s shoulders tensed. “They kicked ‘ya outta yer own house?”

You shake your head with a smile. “No, it’s not like that. I volunteered to give it up. I moved to a smaller house. I’ve been dying for an excuse to leave that house, anyway.”

“Why’d ‘ya wanna leave? It’s a big house,” he observed. It is a big house. It catered to the entirety of their group with no problems.

“Because it’s a big house,” you answered as-a-matter-of-factly. Living alone in that shell of a home haunted you in more ways than one. At one point, you felt as if there was a ghost upstairs because you had never bothered to visit it. 

Daryl paused. You had to glance his way to check on him. He seemed to be debating on whether or not he should ask something until he decided on doing so. He needed answers. “What about your…family?”

He’d been trying to forget that the last time he really saw you was years after he’d left you. It was in a grocery store, and you were shopping for baby diapers while caressing your belly. And then he was on the run with Merle again.

That was ten years ago, some time before the turn. Daryl assumed one of the kids he ran into was yours, or maybe you’d tucked him or her to bed. He knew nothing about you.

“Oh, it’s just me.”

It was clear Daryl had more questions, but you figured he deserved to know at least a little bit of your recent history. 

“It’s alright to be curious, y’know. Husband ditched when he knocked up his work wife. Good riddance.” You hated that you were only relieved to find out he’d left. It wasn’t standard for a woman to rejoice upon discovery that she’d been left for another woman, but it meant freedom. 

Daryl nodded slowly, processing it all in his mind. He couldn’t believe it, any of it. He’d been living on the belief that you were better off. That you were happy.

You sipped from your beer again. “I didn’t really mind, and taking care of the divorce papers proved to be a good distraction. Plus, I got the house and the car so I’m not really complaining. He did get our vacation cabin in Vermont, though. But what good is it for now, right?”

“Right,” he scoffed. And he didn’t want to ask, but he decided to maximize your go signal to ask anything. “What about… What about your kid?”

You raised a brow. “You know about that?”

“M’sorry,” he hurriedly said, shaking his head. “Ya don’t have to tell me anythin’ about that.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You waved a dismissing hand. It surprised you that you were no longer as affected as you were then. It no longer pained you to talk about her. “She died the minute she came into the world.”

“I’m sorry.” The image of you shopping for diapers came to Daryl’s mind. At the time, it seemed that you were happy, and maybe he was right. But the more he knew about you, the more he began to doubt that your life was better the moment he left it. 

All the time you spent apart, Daryl concocted an image of you tending to your sweet and happy family in the suburbs, busy sending your kids to school and celebrating every anniversary with your husband in different countries every single year.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said with a smile. You’ve moved on from it, really. “It was for the best. Can you imagine raising a kid in this mess?”

Daryl made no comment whatsoever, but you remembered that his gang had brought a teenager and an infant. 

You sigh. “Sorry. But you get it.”

“S’fine, yer right anyway.” Daryl took a sip from his bottle. “You should meet ‘em sometime.”

You nodded in response, and he watched as you subconsciously and subtly knocked on your chest. It was one of those things he’d gotten used to seeing you do back then, and he never got to ask why you constantly did it. It didn’t feel like a big deal to ask now, so he let it slide, simply grateful for the opportunity of seeing the little parts that made you who you are once more.

“Geez, I think I gotta lay off the beer,” you said, settling it down on the floorboards.

He nodded. “Right, good call.”

“So, how’s my house?” you started. Daryl knew the time for him asking you questions was over, at least for now. He respected that.

“S’good, there’s plenty of space for us all,” Daryl answered. “Though I gotta be honest, ‘ya gotta give us some time to warm up to it.”

You give him a warm smile. “I get that.”

“But it is cozy,” he added. You don’t know what he meant by it, but a playful grin rested on his mischievous lips. “Pretty far from the camper van ‘ya said ‘ya wanted to live in forever.”

“We’re gonna run away and we’ll just…I don’t know, steal one of those camper vans and go anywhere together!” you had told him when you let him put the ring on your finger, wearing a smile you were so sure you’d never have to bother removing.

You stared at him a little longer than you intended to. You notice the mole he had just shy above his smirk that slowly faltered. You used to love kissing that very spot. No, don’t think about that.

Fuck. “M’sorry, didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” you laughed, waving your hand in the air to assure him. “I’m just surprised you remember.”

His shoulders relaxed, but the guilt that accompanied him in every journey he’d taken on never left. If anything, he felt its weight more so now that he’s found himself in front of you again. 

“Yeah, well, how could I not?” 

“To be fair, you did drive away in my car while I was getting nachos.” You had to look away this time, bringing your attention to the gates in the distance. 

Daryl froze. He wasn’t stupid, but he might as well have been. He knew what it looked like to you all these years, and for the first time in a long time he thought once more about how you must have felt in the parking lot, searching for half an hour only to realize you were all alone miles away from home.

It was too late to explain himself, but he could at least try. 

“M’sorry about what I did,” he said carefully. “I was an idiot for that. M’just glad to know you’ve been alright all these years.”

He didn’t mention noticing your jaw tightening as you smiled at him, but he also realized how much of a bad choice it was to comment that you’ve been alright. There was a story in that expression of yours somewhere, he knew that. It just wasn’t the time to ask about it more. 

“It’s fine, really,” you told him. “It’s in the past, it’s been decades. We’re adults. And it’s the least of our problems now, I mean, we got the dead walking for fuck’s sake!”

You laugh in disbelief, and so does he. It was so easy, so natural. Suddenly, you were seventeen in the passenger seat right next to Daryl fucking Dixon singing Boys Don’t Cry by The Cure as it played in the car stereo. 

No.

This shouldn’t be real, you thought to yourself. You’d put him in the deepest, darkest pit in your mind and in your heart. Daryl coming back was a blessing and a curse. Though you were grateful to discover that he was a survivor, his presence ached you deeply.

It dug out every single memory from your past you’d tried so hard to bury. Your smile faltered as you felt the past blending with the present. 

Daryl noticed the change, so you spoke before he could. 

“I should get going now,” you announced with a forced smile, a little bit louder than you intended as your mind was preoccupied thinking of an excuse. “I gotta go home!”

“Want me to walk with ‘ya?” You could see a grin growing on his damned lips. It was like being brought back to the past. You knew this scene somewhere, and you hated that you liked it.

“Well, I—it’s fine!” 

“S’fine to walk with ‘ya or s’not fine to walk with ‘ya?” he asked, but it was more of a challenge. Usually, you knew what to say and how to say it. You were just that kind of person, it was even something you were proud of.

“Erm,” you gulped. 

This was not one of those ‘usual’ moments.

You wanted to return to the party, but you couldn’t just say that—you’d already taken one step down, away from the porch! 

You look back at him to explain yourself as you walk a little bit farther every single time. You were going the wrong direction, but you decided that it was too late to go the right way. You’d just have to make a round trip across Alexandria. “I got this…thing. In my stomach. I have to, you know. And I’m tired, so I guess I’ll—!”

“Nah, seriously, I insist.” Daryl had made up his mind the minute he asked. He brought the half empty bottle of beer with him as he walked ahead of you. 

You scoffed. “Fine.”

Though Daryl seemed to have built this wall around himself, you could still see rays of his stubbornness. It used to be something you’d fight over, but also solely for the purpose of kissing and making up.

The first half minute of the walk was silent, and you hated how peaceful and at ease you felt. It should have felt unbearable, uncomfortable. Daryl had a way with his presence you never realized you’d been missing until now that you have it again.

You tell yourself it’s just the severity of being your first love, but it was more than that. You waited for a couple of seconds to pass before deciding that this idiot wasn’t gonna make conversation despite insisting to walk you home.

“So, the outside,” you started. “How long have you and your people been out there?”

“For a while. The longest home we had was a prison.”

“You were…in jail?” you asked hesitantly. You knew of his criminal record, but you didn’t consider for a moment that he’d been behind bars this entire time.

“No,” he answered. “Just found shelter there.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know you’d find a grin on his face. His stupid, stupid, stupid face. “Ya thought I was in prison?”

“No! Just when you mentioned it. Then just now, I thought it made sense why I never heard from you.”

Daryl stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He’d thought you wanted nothing to do with him. “You were expecting to?”

Maybe it was wrong to confess something like that. “A postcard would’ve been nice.”

“Didn’t know where ‘ya lived.” He shrugged, even though he wanted to admit that he assumed you no longer wanted to hear news about his whereabouts. 

“Well, you knew about my kid. What’s that about?” You’d been meaning to ask, but you couldn’t find the opening. 

The archer halted, looking for an escape hatch. 

I heard from a friend? No, he didn’t. The honest answer would’ve been that Daryl wanted to reach out to you but bailed when he discovered the good life you were blessed with. The life Merle said you’d be robbed of having had you run away with Daryl.

But Daryl wasn’t an honest man, at least not tonight.

“I didn’t know, I just guessed.”

And of course, you let him lie. “Right. And you wanted to walk me home because…?”

“I wanted to.” Daryl had not yet toured the entirety of the neighborhood, but it felt like a pretty long walk for a walk home. Just when he’s about to ask, you reach the small apartment buildings just across Deanna’s house. The two of you had just done a round trip of Alexandria. You were just right across the street.

He wanted to ask why you’d taken the long route when you’d seemed so eager to be away from him earlier that night, but he knew exactly why. 

You were never able to make the sane decisions when you were with him. 

You stop in front of your home. “Well, this is me.”

“M’kay, I’ll see ‘ya around.” The archer gave you a tight smile, raising his hand as a wave right before turning around to make his way to the gate. 

“Daryl,” you called. And he’s glad you did. “Have you been well? Ever since?”

He thought of Merle. Beth. Herschel. Everyone they lost. When you were younger, you changed him. That change was undone when he left, ruining everything you’d built together. But this time, the man you built before was slowly returning. 

Has he been well? Daryl knew better than to disagree. 

The archer stared up at you one step away, curious if his eyes were deceiving him by letting him see you again. “Yeah, I’ve been alrigh’.”

“Okay,” you say, half-satisfied. “I had fun. Bye, Daryl.”

And Daryl watched as you hurriedly got inside your home. You didn’t know it yet, but something inside him sparked bright with ambition. This wasn’t the end of it.

Mornings in Alexandria were particularly slow in the most comfortable way possible. It unnerved Daryl; something about going on his day ‘normally’ felt alien, out of place. Thus, he’d often step out for long hours to ‘hunt,’ when really he could be back anytime he wanted with his stellar skill in the craft. 

He wouldn’t say it, but he just felt suffocated in Alexandria. Some would argue that the apocalypse wired him to be the way he was now, but a part of him would beg to disagree. He would’ve felt smothered had he found himself inside the damn gated community way before the turn. 

And that’s precisely why he’d fallen prey to Merle’s argument about you that fateful day he left.

“What, ‘ya think a girl like [Y/N]’s gonna be fine livin’ off pot? Nah, brother. She’s been livin’ in high cotton her entire life. Girls like her were made for them nice houses with picket fences married to a fancy man who works in a bank. How’s that g’nna work, huh? Hell, yer the kind who robs one!”

Daryl had been so sure he made the right choice then…

“Something bothering you?” Carol asked the archer, just leaving the house in complete uniform looking very much like a sweet, harmless housewife. 

“Nah.” Daryl looked up behind him as he sat on his haunches, cigarette in his loose hand as if it was an extension of himself. “Didn’t feel like goin’ out today, but I didn’t feel like stayin’ here, either.”

“You could take a shower,” said Carol. Daryl grunted, and she only smiled, knowing where to direct the conversation to. “Maybe then you could finally ask out your pretty neighbor.”

“What?” Daryl spun, standing up to meet Carol at eye-level. He didn’t want anyone to know of his past, much less see a part of it. Suddenly, everything felt real. You felt real. You were, but it pained him to admit that he hasn’t yet been able to say everything he’s wanted to say in every single day that haunted him when he left. 

Carol, on the other hand, had thought nothing of it for the past week. Though she wondered if there was more to the story, she resorted to assuming Daryl simply liked the Alexandrian. But Carol wasn’t stupid, she knew now for sure that there was something deeper.

“See, I was making conversation with everybody. I heard from Sally that [Y/N] was supposed to bring cookies, but she burnt them too much.” Carol wanted to laugh at how serious her friend looked, eager to hear more. “So, I wanted to help her out and Sasha said she saw her leave with you.”

“S’that it? All of it?” Daryl asked, his voice grim. 

Carol crossed her arms, raising her brow in question. “That’s all of it for me, what’s all of it for you?”

The archer trudged down the stairs of the porch, tossing the cigar on the floor as he did so. “Nothing.”

“The house we’re staying at,” Carol started, just enough to get Daryl to stop in his tracks. “That house is hers, isn’t it?”

Daryl paused. “Ya heard some of it?”

“I may have heard some of it,” she said. “I might have even heard…all of it? Before you walked her home?”

“Damn it, Carol!” he groaned in exasperation. There was no point in denying it now. Carol knew something, and knowing her, Daryl knew she’d been observing you ever since that night. No lie would slide past that woman no matter how hard he tried.

“So?”

Daryl looked around him, checking if someone else was listening into their conversation. “The garage,” he said. And so they went.

When they got inside, Carol was surprised to find a brand new motorcycle. She ran to its side, eyeing the shine on the body. “Oh, she’s pretty! Where’d you get her from?”

“I know,” Daryl exclaimed. “Aaron, he… He wants me to look for survivors with him instead of—Ow!”

Carol punched his arm, her eyes wide in defiance and her mouth grinning wide. “You’re trying to change the subject!”

“Am not,” he defended, feeling his arm with his hand. That woman was a nut, and she was getting an answer whether he wanted to or not. “Fine. Just the short version.”

She crossed her arms again, making her outfit look more like a costume than a uniform. “Alright, what’s the story?”

He didn’t want to tell it, but somehow he felt he needed to. Daryl was used to bottling his secrets in the belief that he could carry it all on his own. He couldn’t. It just so happened that it was your history together that had the most effect on him. 

“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Daryl started. His heart was begging to be released into the wild where it could be free. Telling this part of his life was something he’d never bothered to let out. Heck, he’d never even thought about it to himself in a long time. He treated it like a dream he was starting to forget but couldn’t. “I was trynna win her when we grew up, and I—we dated. For some time. Then we were gonna run away together. She was the one who wanted to; stole her parents’ car ‘n everythin’, brought a wad load of cash. I gave her a ring I saved up for, and we were gonna go far away. We hopped two states. Then I… And… I just—she was one of those kids from a well off family, alrigh’? And I was…intimidated.”

Though Carol found herself smiling for the first half, she didn’t like where this story was going. “What did you do?”

Daryl stilled himself for what was about to come out next, from his mouth and Carol’s.

“I left her while we were two states away from home. She was shoppin’ for groceries while I was in the parkin’ lot. I drove away. With the car. And the cash. Never looked back.”

The next thing he knew, his friend had planted a hard slap across his face. And he knew he deserved it. Heck, he deserved worse than that. Maybe even deserved to die for it, now that he knew the life you were left to live wasn’t exactly paradise.

Daryl Dixon was a coward.

Daryl Dixon was stupid for assuming he could even win you back.

And most of all, you would be just as stupid if you let him.

i'm still building my blog. so for now, just send me an ask to be added to my taglist :)

DARYL DIXON TAGLIST: @vaniniweenie

[asegunda]

A New Spark

PJO

Pairing: PLATONIC!Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson x Mortal! GN!Reader

Words: 904

Summary: You are a child of a fling Gabe had. (Unplanned of course.) So you moved with him when he started dating Sally. (poor queen..) In that time you and Percy started a 'sibling' like relationship, he saw you has his little sibling and you saw him as a big brother, but we all know what happened to Gabe, so what about you?

Warnings: The Timeline is in the end of Book 1: The Lighting Thief and The Start of Book 2: The Sea of Monsters. Gabe! (🤢) English is not my 1st language. Gabe(🤢) Bad home life.

Notes: I'm here again wow. The 3rd time I'm doing this. And of the three works that I published (including this one.) This is the one that came at my head and I wrote instantly. I always loved the idea of Percy with a little sibling. And so here it is. Please PJO fandom we need more platonic content. And thank you for my 1st work 40 hearts it's not a thing I excepted. Hope my 2nd work and this one have the same impact on you. ❤️

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Why was Sally enduring all of this? That was your question since you moved to her house with your 'dad', if you even could call him that...you loved him of course, you couldn't force yourself to hate him, but the way he treated Sally and Percy, it made you crazy..maybe you have that force after all?

You get up to say goodbye to Sally and Percy. She was happy, finnaly going to do something she loves and not hear all day my father complains. You still don't know how Sally didn't ditch him earlier. Of course you don't want Percy and Sally to go away, but..it is the best for them, right? You can't be greedy and want them to stay when they were suffering. But it still hurts.

As you enter the room Percy is packing is things to move to they're new home. He looks at you with a sad look.

"You're the only thing Im gonna miss here Y/N." He says.

"It's okay, you can still call, right?" You tell him to reassure not just him but yourself.

He nods thoughtful.

"Yeah, that's right." He smiles at you but the happiness doesn't go to his eyes, his green eyes with almost no shine when he thinks what is going to happen to you when he and his mom.

He knows that your dad used to treat you really bad before dating his mom. After that you were just 'there'.. Somewhat like a ghost to him.

But you always got to him to help you with your homework, even with his ADHD and dyslexia. You loved his mom cooking, but thinking better who didn't. He played with you, after the hell that is school, coming home and having lunch with you and playing Legos, just not caring about anything and ignoring Gabe at the living room, problaly playing poker and drinking his beers.

He started crying in front of you. He didn't want to leave you with that asshole. You didn't deserve a life like that. Maybe if he asked his mom?

When he is distracted you hug him.

"I'm gonna miss you too Perc."

He hugs you back.

After some minutes of hugging Percy goes talk to his mom.

After talking and discussing, Sally agrees with him, and that she was thinking about you coming with them, but that she didn't know what Gabe's reaction would be.

So Sally comes back to the living room where you are seated at a table drawing, Gabe drinking a beer and watching some football game.

"Honey, I want you to be sincere." She says with a calm voice.

You nod confused.

"Do you want to come with us?" She continues.

You look suprised.

"But my dad-" You say looking at him, he didn't heard the question.

"Dear, it is your choice." She tells you with a smile.

You look at him again. You know what screw him. It would be worse if Percy and Sally got away and you were alone.

"I would love to go with you." You tell her.

Gabe hears and gets up, beer bottle still in his hand.

"What did you say little brat?" Before you can say anything he continues and points at Sally. "And you woman, you didn't already screw me to take my kid from me?!" He raises his hand at Sally but before he can do anything Percy is there taking his hand.

"What do you think your are doing to my family asshole?!" He tells Gabe.

"Oh, you little sh!t!" Gabe yells at him.

"You know what, you can take the kid. Im full of all of you, now go away." He yells again and points at you.

"I always knew you weren't good enough." He yells again. "Now go with the ones of your kind."

You start crying but Sally hugs you, she calls Percy and he starts packing your things while Sally calls a taxi.

When it comes you three go to your new house, bags at the car trunk.

Your eyes are still a bit red from the crying but now it doesn't matter, now you have a family, a real one.

You look at Percy and smile.

He smiles back and holds your hand.

Sally smile while looking at you two at the front seat of the taxi.

She was fine, her babies were fine.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You are eating cereals at the kitchen, it's the first day of school, both for you and Percy.

He enters the kitchen and sits eating is own breakfast.

"Are you two excited for school?" Sally asks.

"Yes!" You say at the same time that Percy just makes a "Hmm" sound.

Sally nods and looks at Percy.

"Dear let's try to be at one school more time this year, hmm?" She says.

"I will try mom." He says still looking at his food.

"I know, don't worry to much about it."

"Yeah, it's not like you are gonna explode the school or something Perc."

Sally and Percy glance at eachother, you already knew the whole truth but you weren't a clearsighted mortal like Sally.

"Let's hope not." Sally smiles at you.

"Now let's get ready that your friend Tyson is waiting for you Percy." She says.

He nods and you both take your bags, going to school and Sally to work.

Didn't you know that what happened was exactly what you said.

[starlight-eclipsed]

Rockets Pointed Up at the Stars (Pt 2/2)

Part I

Despite what Phantom had implied, tracking down Batman wasn’t done in an instant.

Sure, they’d be back seconds after when they left. But with time travel in the mix, that could be hours or days apart. They’d already followed him back to his initial landing time, when Neanderthals were still around (and wow, was there a difference between factually knowing some people had been around since the dawn of humanity and physically seeing Vandal Savage in the flesh as a caveman). According to the trail left by Clockwork, the ghostly guardian of the timestream, they were getting close.

Apparently Bruce couldn’t make things easy and was also making jumps through time, which if left unchecked would cause the timeline collapse that Clockwork had recruited Phantom for. Specifically Phantom, as it turns out the thief that liked messing with him on weekends was also the Master of Space and the King of everything.

(Phantom insisted it was just a title, and he was only king of the Ghost Zone. It just so happened that the Ghost Zone was also known as the Infinite Realms, which contained every reality of every universe in existence.

And he’d won that title by defeating the previous ruler in single combat.

The High King had to scramble to catch Tim when his knees gave out at the realization that he had unknowingly gone toe to toe with someone who made Darkseid look like a toddler in a sandbox. What the fuck, Phantom.) 

As of now, they were waiting for the actual Blackbeard’s ship to dock to investigate the fabled Black Pirate he supposedly fought a week ago, whose description matched Bruce’s. Phantom had gone to grab them something to eat while they waited in a tavern, leaving Tim to save his seat. If someone told him even a week ago that this was where he’d be, Tim would’ve interrogated them for hours to try to figure out what it meant.

But no, he was just sitting at a table in the 18th century, a medallion from the Master of Time hung around his neck, waiting for his hero-turned-king-gone-rogue to return with food while they waited for Blackbeard the legendary pirate to show up. Jason would probably kill to be here in his place.

Tim was broken out of his thoughts when Phantom returned, two bowls of soup in hand and balancing an additional plate of tough-looking bread on his forearm.

They’d been forced to ditch their masks when Puritans tried to have them hanged a century ago, now dressing in more accurate clothing to better blend in. Phantom had apologized for discovering Tim’s real name, going as far as to reveal his own secret identity: a black haired blue-eyed teen named Danny.

“Heads up, it’s gonna be either too salty or bland as wood. I’m pretty sure the cook wanted to strangle me for asking too many questions about the ingredients.”

Tim snorted, accepting his bowl, “Is that why we don’t get spoons?”

“Nah, the owner doesn’t trust customers to return the utensils. Drink from the bowl, though you might want to soak your bread if you don’t wanna pull a muscle chewing it.”

“Noted.” Tim dared to take a sip, mulling over the taste. It wasn’t anywhere near Alfred’s level, but a step above his own adventures in the kitchen before getting a hard ban post-pancake incident. It tasted closer to brine than soup, but it went surprisingly well with the bread.

Phantom hummed in pleasure, proving yet again that his standards for food consisted of ‘isn’t actively resisting consumption’. Tim could hardly judge him for it, seeing as his own bar wasn't much higher.

“So, I’d say we have an hour or two until our man arrives. Want to go over the plan again?”

Tim shrugged. “Unless it’s changed from ‘confirm Bruce was already here before following the nearest skip in time’, I think we’re good.”

Phantom nodded, silence falling over them as they ate their way through dinner. Tim kept an ear out for trouble, but the tavern was quite peaceful this time in the evening. It was likely to change once the Queen Anne's Revenge finished docking, but for now he’d savor the ambiance.

“Wanna play twenty questions?”

He blinked, refocusing on Phantom sitting across from him. “Huh?”

“I just figured it might pass the time. Twenty questions, no lies, though you can reject them if you don’t want to answer.”

Tim considered it before nodding, “Sure. How old are you?”

Phantom grinned, “Seventeen, same as you. Why Robin?”

“I wanted to help Batman after the previous one died. Nobody else would intervene, so I stepped in. Why Phantom?”

“Okay, hear me out…it’s a pun.”

Tim paused, gesturing for him to elaborate.

“Before I was half-ghost, my last name was Fenton. So as a ghost, Danny Fenton became—”

“Danny Phantom,” Tim groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were subtle.”

“Hey, nobody expects the dead guy to moonlight as a living person. Sunlight? Whatever. Favorite hobbies?”

“Photography and skateboarding. Favorite power?”

“Ooh, that’s a hard one. I’d have to say flight. Nothing beats flying at night. Sexuality?”

Tim spluttered, making Phantom laugh as he blushed. “What the heck?!”

“Hey, you can always skip,” the asshole offered.

“No, it just caught me off guard. I’m bi. You?”

“Pan. And trans, while we’re at it. Ghosts can shapeshift, so I got a perfect transition at the low cost of death.”

Tim snorted, “Death is an ally.”

“Absolutely, it comes for us all,” he winked. “If you had a single power, what would it be?”

“Something so I wouldn’t need to sleep. I can manage otherwise. What determines the things you take?”

Phantom grinned, “Once a detective. But seriously, I just aim for things that look cool and won’t be missed too much. Some people will kick up a fuss over their trash if they think it’s worth stealing. Thoughts on soulmates?”

He stopped, some part of him catching on how serious the otherwise silly sounding question was phrased. As if the way he answered this could mean life or death. “You mean, a couple acting like they’re made for each other?”

“Ah, I wasn’t sure whether you had them in your universe. On my Earth, everyone is born with some kind of connection to at least one other person. Shared thoughts, a timer countdown to the time they first meet, stuff like that. Platonic or romantic, they were called soulmates.”

“So…someone you’re destined to meet and get along with? Is it magic based?”

A nod. “Humanity’s done research but they haven’t concluded on that yet. I asked an Ancient whose domain was centered around it, and they said it was determined by a soul’s resonance. I don’t know the specifics, but something about how all souls that resonate a certain way are born with soulmarks, so that they have an easier time finding each other. There are studies about how soulmates tend to understand each other easier, but other than that there’s no empirical proof that they’re different from any other relationship.”

Tim considered it. What it might’ve been like, to be told the second he met Dick that fateful night at the circus, ‘this boy will permanently alter the course of your life’. To have been able to approach Batman that first time, point to his wrist, and automatically be listened to instead of resorting to blackmail. How much easier it would have been to avoid the misunderstandings that defined their whole family.

Then again, it would be just his luck to have been born in that world and not have any soul connections to the Wayne family, making him work twice as hard for the same level of trust. Or to be born without resonance at all, and be left knowing that he was truly beyond reach. What would that do to him, in a society where people could point at the worst criminals and say ‘even that monster has someone they love’? To be soulmates with a genuinely terrible person?

“It sounds like a mixed blessing,” Tim said, meeting Danny’s gaze directly. “I would love to have someone like that by my side, and I’d be terrified of being defined by it.”

Danny leaned back, wearing a self-deprecating smile that Tim was quickly learning to recognize. “Yeah, that’s fair. Your turn.”

“What…what is your personal experience with soulmates? If I’m allowed to ask.”

He hissed out a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say.”

“I can ask something else?”

Danny waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll answer, just lemme figure out how to put it.”

“I’ll return our dishes while you think through what you want to say.” Tim stood with his empty bowl, easily accepting the other bowl and plate as they were handed to him.

Walking back, Tim cataloged the people hanging around the tavern. A group of friends huddled around a dozen plates, decked out in gear that made it look like they just finished having some grand adventure. The bartender, a sly smile on her face as a drunken man clumsily flirted with his own wife. The cook instructing a boy to retrieve the dishes from Tim, sending a calculating glance in Danny’s direction before nodding at Tim and turning back to the fire.

Tim didn’t spend a lot of time in public anymore. His fame attracted far too much attention now that the press could consistently recognize him. But maybe once things settled back down again, he’d try civilian life again. There was something different about living alongside the people he worked to save, instead of far above looking down.

By the time he returned to his seat, Danny looked ready to talk.

“My soulmate rejected me when we were little.”

Tim blinked. “You can do that?”

“Ah…sorta? Depending on the connection, one side can choose to shut it down. Mine let us exchange messages. I was a dumb kid, and sent out a ton every day to try and get any kind of response that they were out there. They got sick of it and blocked me.” Danny laughed, but it wasn't very funny.

“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”

“Don’t be. I annoy everyone—it was only a matter of time before I did something to chase them away.”

“Would you stop doing that?”

Danny blinked, tilting his head in silent question.

“Look, I get that you went through a lot of shit before coming to Gotham. But you keep acting like it’s a given that everyone you meet will be awful to you, and it sucks to hear you talk like that when I’m having fun with you. It wasn't your fault, so stop claiming credit for it. If I can’t justify losing Robin, you can’t justify being abandoned.”

“...alright then.” Danny huffed, folding his arms and pouting. “Neither of us can talk shit about ourselves.”

The twinkle in his eyes was enough for Tim to know he got through to him.

— - —

Tim leaned up against a fence in the Wild West, shifting uncomfortably in his dust coated clothes. Danny was perched beside him, smugly radiating a cool breeze that may very well have been the only thing keeping Tim upright in the summer sun.

“There’s too much sunlight here, it’s unnatural.”

“That’s just your Gothamite showing, city-boy.”

“Fuck off.”

Danny’s laughter had become a staple of the past few days spent traveling through history. In turn, Tim found himself happier than he’d been in ages, making sarcastic comments about anything that caught his eye in an attempt to get Danny to laugh more.

So far, he’d yet to fail to bring at least a smile to the other’s face.

Right now they were in the late 19th century, following rumors that Bruce had somehow crossed paths with Vandal Savage again. It was bordering on ridiculous, and a part of Tim wondered if this was why the legendary criminal stayed well away from Gotham waters. He was going to have to ask Bruce what was up with that after this whole mess was over.

“So,” Danny started, leaning closer to him. “Have any plans for when we’re back in modern day?”

Tim shrugged, “I see a lengthy report to Batman, hours spent explaining everything he missed while he was gone. I swear I’ll be up all week helping him catch up.”

A snort. “I meant about Robin. No offense, but you looked miserable in your new costume.”

He paused. He hadn’t quite processed the knowledge that bringing Bruce back wouldn’t also bring back his role as Robin. It was obvious whenever he actually thought about it, but to him Bruce coming home was still synonymous to going back to how things were before he was lost in time.

“I don’t know…Red Robin was just supposed to be temporary. It was one of Red Hood’s old aliases, not really mine.”

Danny turned to him. “Do you want a new one? If you decide now, we can lay the basis for some local legend to act as future inspiration for the new title.”

Tim elbowed him, “We aren’t messing with the timeline to establish lore for my new identity.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I did it back in my original world, there’s ancient frescos of me winning chariot races and everything.”

“How are you and Clockwork still on speaking terms?”

“Oh, he totally finds it as funny as I do. He just has to pretend to be serious all the time so the Observants don’t crack down on him for shirking his duties.”

“You’re a bad influence on the embodiment of time,” Tim concluded with wide eyes.

A wide grin stretched across Danny’s face as he lied through his teeth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How did you even—he’s millennia older than you!”

“Counterparts, remember? It’s not a soul bond, but it’s easy to see ourselves in each other. Besides, time is relative; he's like a weird grandpa-uncle-cousin.”

Tim shook his head, but couldn’t quite force down the laughter in his lungs.

“Hey, I know for a fact I’m not the only bad influence here. No matter how much you claim that sleep is for the dead, I’m physical proof against that.”

“Whatever. You know when the next jump is?”

Danny tilted his head, as if listening for something only meant for his ears. “If Bats already came through here, there’s only two big timesinks left he could be in. Either sometime in the 20th century, or in a designated Vanishing Point.”

“Vanishing Point?”

“Yeah, it’s something of a collaboration between the Observants, Clockwork, and Ghost Writer. Each universe has an archive set right around its eventual heat death. It’s like an empty room in a video game with props the devs left in to keep the system running after inadvertently designing the whole code in reference to a lemon.”

“I…never mind. Why would Batman be there?”

“Oh, ‘cause he’s traveling through time without one of these,” Danny tapped Tim’s chest, right where his Time Medallion lay under his shirt. “They’re designed to safely disperse the energy gained each time we make a jump, among other things. Otherwise we’d just be building up enough to wipe the timeline from existence. Or something like that, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Tim suddenly realized that this was what his former teammates meant when they complained about him executing strategies without explaining his thought process first. He still stood by his stance that it was more effective to explain things as they happened, but he was developing a new sense of empathy for them.

“Okay. Batman is a time-charged universe level bomb threat, and is getting funneled into the Backrooms so he blows up with everything else in existence. What can we do to stop that?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, I thought it was obvious. I already carry a medallion with me wherever I go, so I was just gonna have you put the spare Clocky gave me on him to filter it out.”

Yep. This was karma for never giving people the full story behind any of his plans.

“I’m going to need you to go over everything we need to do when we get to this Vanishing Point. Twice.”

“Okie doke! So I’m gonna leave you with my spare medallion to help Bats while I throw down with Darkseid’s hyper-dimensional mind slave he sent after him to ensure his demise—”

Gift baskets. Tim owed so many people gift baskets for putting up with his bullshit.

— - —

When Tim found him, Danny was perched on the same apartment building they’d last met on.

His hood was down, freeing his flaming white hair to burn without heat in the night. His face was turned towards the sky, looking for all like he was somehow stargazing in spite of the thick smog that blanketed the city. It would’ve made for a stunning picture, if not for how soul crushingly lonely the scene felt.

Danny startled when Tim’s grappling hook latched onto the rooftop beside him. The halfa was quick to brighten upon seeing Tim down below, scooting over to make room for him as he reeled in the line and pulled himself up.

“Fancy meeting you here, Detective.”

Tim huffed, readjusting his utility belt. “The others won’t stop pestering me about how Batman was brought back when I shouldn’t have access to any time travel devices. It’s a miracle I was even able to get out of the Batcave without getting smothered.”

“You didn’t tell them about me?”

“You didn’t want them to know.”

Danny looked stunned. He physically shook himself out of it, a glowing green blush rising to his cheeks as he turned away. “Thanks.”

Tim absentmindedly nodded as he smoothly slipped a black marker from his belt while Danny was distracted. This had the potential to either go very smoothly or backfire completely, but it had to be done to sate his curiosity. Now that Bruce was home and he’d gotten the time to think over their conversations, pieces had started to align in his head. It was just a matter of taking the leap and confirming it for himself.

Reaching up to his own cheek, Tim wrote in practiced motions, focusing on the thought of sending it through to whoever was on the other side.

Danny jumped, hand slapping to his own cheek as he whipped his head around to stare at Tim in open shock. He shrugged sheepishly.

“Your description of soulmates was familiar. Between that and the cloak, I really should’ve put it together sooner.”

“You’re…not mad?”

Tim shifted, stashing the marker back in its rightful place. “I wish I knew sooner. I never meant to hurt you—Batman was getting on my case about the writing on my arms being recognizable in costume, and I never thought to wonder why it was happening in the first place.”

Danny shook his head, a wet chuckle escaping his lips. “You couldn’t have known. It would’ve freaked anyone out, getting messages from a different universe on their skin.”

“Neither did you. Know, I mean. Me blocking the connection was never on you.”

“Well…”

“I mean it.”

“Fine, fine. So…does that mean…?”

Tim carefully reached out his hands to grasp onto his soulmate’s, intertwining their fingers. It was remarkable how easily they fit together. “I don’t know if it’s romantic or not, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

Danny collapsed forward into Tim’s arms. He could hardly make out the muffled affirmative, but the message was crystal clear. Leaning down to set his chin on the top of Danny’s head, he let himself savor this moment.

Tomorrow, he could beg Danny to experiment with the extent of their bond. They could talk about new ideas for his hero name, and Danny could get another shot at convincing him to go on a worldwide anti-multi-billionaire tour. The two of them had potentially forever to work out this newfound aspect of their relationship.

For the time being, Tim relaxed back against a chain link fence with his soulmate in his arms, the word ‘BOO’ scribbled in black marker across both their faces.

— - —

And that's a wrap! There's definitely room for more, but these were the all the scenes I wanted to cover ^-^

I think in this universe, Danny and Tim end up working as a slightly morally grey hero duo. They go global for a bit, Tim wanting to train under more people to better keep up with Danny (who follows along invisibly as backup). This eventually gets the attention of Ra's, and you can imagine how that goes XD

They're a bit overly attached; neither of them really have a healthy sense of boundaries, which causes a bit of conflict here and there. Tim is the one that insists on taking breaks to avoid becoming too codependent, which only really results in them deepening the soul bond to a ridiculous degree. Ironically it's during this that Tim discovers how he can send pressure marks through to Danny, who immediately converts it to morse code (oops).

Thanks for reading!

Tag list:

@skulld3mort-1fan @profoundsoulsong @daemonlogical @bobred18 @ashoutinthedarkness @hilariousseagoat @undead-essence @ekatkit @wolfjackle @awkwardmaiden @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

[kenandeliza]

A Marvel Family Fantasy AU

A few days ago, I randomly dreamt of Drawing Billy and Tawny in a fantasy setting.

Billy was this kid wizard and Tawny was his companion (or an animal to ride on like a horse)

Then it got me thinking, maybe in this setting, Mary could be someone of high status in this fantasy setting (since she's in a rich family in the golden age comics)

I'm inclined to think Freddy would be a captain of a ship for irony-sake but I have a feeling pirates and fantasy settings don't match well?

It's just funny for me to think of him with a peg leg xD

After further discussion with @the-brash-spud :

Warning: Too many text :>

These are the ideas we have so far (if there are quotation marks, those ideas belonged to @the-brash-spud ):

—

Maybe Billy and Mary were prince and princess separated by birth, (i'm not sure if its a kidnapping or the baby got lost on his own) but the wizard founded billy and trained him.

At the ripe age of (insert young age below a teenager's), The wizard decided to grant him the power of shazam to turn him into the world's mightiest Wizard!

Captain Marvel!

Wizard dies and then Billy and Tawny have adventures together, maybe helping people along the way (maybe somehow found out that Mary is his sister :p idk)

“ I think you could go angst if you made the wizard get brutally hurt in a battle to protect Billy and the rock of eternity so in a last ditch effort he transports the rock to its own pocket of existence and then giving Billy powers of shazam because its as ready as he'll be able to make the kid :) and it's his last effort for Billy to be protected even if he has to do so himself because he has failed :)) made Billy cry as Wizard turns into dust in Billy’s hands :)))”

—

Uncle marvel can be a con-man/thief who took pity on Billy or realiz, teaching Billy that the world isn't always honest and he's like, "Billy, don't always give money to the poor on the streets, sometimes they faked their illness to be lazy”

" Billy: "The man in the shadowy corner needs my help."

Uncle: "No, the hell he doesn't!”"

—-

How Billy Met Freddy

Billy probably met Freddy in a bar fight. How did the kid get into a bar?

Billy looked at the man exiting the pub with a bottle.

Billy: Ohh! So this is where you get refreshments here! I wonder If they have enough Milk for Tawny..

Pub sign written NO KIDS ALLOWED!"

*Billy can only read magic scrolls and not regular alphabet*

Cue him meeting Freddy (who's armwrestling with one of the people there)

(Insert Bar fight for some reason because The child decided to drink a white cocktail thinking it was milk and the fact that Billy is a Kid)

“Freddie is definitely that kid having his ass thrown out of the bar/pub/inn”

I'd like to think he and his brother are a team, prolly sailed a ship together.

“Yes, they target slave ships. Unless you wanna go different routes. Then, he is focused on certain nations' flags that have a whole lot of red in them

Also, he goes to the bars just to start bar fights over drunks being mean/nasty to the landlady. The landlady doesn't appreciate it bc now she has a broken table and four broken chairs”

Freddy faces the Captain Nazi equivalent of a pirate [Captain Arian? Like Aryan?] XD, Freddy lost his leg the same way, from his encounter with Captain Arian.

Kit (probably a necromancer or a ghost who's cursed to be bound in the ship Freddy's in, making Freddy more attached to the ship) can still summon crewmembers.

Maybe they both meet mary during the birthday ceremony parade

Maybe Mary snuck off from her family (disguise herself as a regular girl, i know, generic plot) and then meet Billy accidentally

Billy: It's my birthday today!

Mary: What a coincidence! It's mine too!

The-brash-spud: “Billy, in his innocence, thinks ,"There must be something to us sharing birthdays!" While Freddy calls him stupid, Billy tries to get a look at the princes and then cue the lung-fu panda rocket incident, but maybe something else more fitting with Freddy being pulled along”

On an unrelated note, i think Billy knew about Freddy's peg legafter either a pirate slashed it clean and Freddy just used it to bonk his head.

Billy is still screaming from the shock and immediately casted healing spells (i'd like to think everything about billy is lightning based- so yes getting struck by lightning is a healing spell for him :D) Freddy got shocked lmao

And what about boarding Tawny on the ship?

Billy:"Please???"

Freddy: "I'm not letting a tiger into my ship."

Kit who absolutely adores animals: "YES"

Freddy:"NO!”

Kit:" Does he love belly rubs??"

Billy:" yes but you have to ask him politely for his permission-”

Freddy rolled his eyes, realizing he has to clean cat fur everyday off from the furnitures.

___

How did Mary, a royalty tag along with a kid wizard and a pirate?

“Yeah, I guess forced separation would work better. Hell, go with a scenario that will allow them to have Mary with the parents' blessings as long as she's kept safe (she isn't, but that's because she is the danger herself)”

Mary and Billy: "Yay adventure"

Freddy: "Oh great, now I have to take care of two kids and a tiger in my ship!?"

*Freddy looking at Kit and the kids + a tiger playing together, kit seems happy*

Freddy: "...i guess it's alright..”

___

How Freddy and Mary found out about the wizard?

“Hmmmm, maybe Billy takes them to the rock because they were in a pickle, and unforeseen effects happen?

They got surrounded maybe?

Also I can see the aftermath

"You were raised by THE Wizard!? THE Wizard?! A Wizard of legends so often told he is recognisable even if his name was lost?!"

"Oh, his name is Shazam-" *BANG*”

____

Hopefully i could draw these AU ideas, I don't plan on making this into a story, i just like the concept that my dream gave my a few days ago and I’m just expanding it. Sorry for too many text xD

I don't mind if you want to add something to this silly lil AU, It's just a fun thing for me to do :p