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dragongirlpoet · 2 months ago

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Dark Signs

Part II

Alucard x female reader

Synopsis: You asked Alucard for a favour. Now you have to be careful what you wished for. (3.5k words) "To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster" - Vampire Hunter D

TW: Dark fantasy, horror & gore elements, blood, SMUT (Alucard is feral in this one) Explicit 🔞

Here's hoping you'll enjoy this too! Sorry it took longer than expected, I was unwell and didn't want to put out a story I wasn't proud of. Thank you for reading!

Also to @skychaser777 hope you can sleep after this 😉

The hollow stone walls echoed my shaky breaths, caving them in, the thumping of my heart violent in my ears. My skin was pricked with goosebumps, foreboding dire dwellings.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Absurd question, considering everything was inherently far from right.

There had only been one instance where I felt unsafe with Adrian.

Located in the underbelly of Wallachia was a forgotten catacomb, a labyrinth where the dead and undead alike convened. I had been extracting bile from slaughtered night creatures, told to render powerful salves when mixed with mint, myrrh and…other herbs.

Body sticky with sweat and hands grimy from reaching into revolting guts, I was almost to my fifth vial when a guttural growl stopped me dead in my tracks.

From the marrows of a tunnel, a numbing cold, laced with strangled gnawing, reverberated through the passageways.

Every fibre of my being told me to run, alas I had all but the impudence of a child. Unsheathing my iron dagger, ensorcelled to wound even the most vile, I treaded warily towards my impending doom.

The sight that awaited me was sickening. Crouched over bodies upon bodies of night creatures was a pallid, mangled man? His face was buried in their carcasses, marring at their flesh, lapping at their blood.

Before I could take another breath, the man turned, face smeared with ravaged viscera and foul, curdled blood. He had hair like the purest wisps of wheat and eyes like dark, desecrated graves.

I choked back a gasp.

“You foolish, foolish girl. You are not prepared for the evil that lurks here, feeds here..” his bellow was deafening, diabolical. Blood spilled from his fangs, splaying his torso tainted with innards and rotten flesh.

“Wh..who are…you?” I paced backwards as he stalked towards me.

“You don’t know who I am? Most fascinating…” he offered a smile so sinister, as if he had stumbled upon the most naive of fools he was soon to devour.

“I am the sun…rain…the darkness. I am sin made flesh and I am whom you should most fear. I am Alucard, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.”

A loud “smash” rattled through the room as I retreated into our wooden dresser, knocking over a prized hourglass Alucard so often used to practise his script. The pair of glowering molten eyes trailed me — never blinking, burning caverns into my soul.

I shifted my gaze downwards to avoid stepping into glass, but that was regrettably the least of my worries. Lifting my stare, those eyes were gone — quick as spectres passing through dimensions.

Our chamber fell into a boundless black, and my human sight could not adjust acutely enough to the darkness. I flailed my arms about willing to grasp onto anything that could give me some bearing. Anxiety crept through me like poison ivy ensnaring a forsaken home.

“Adrian? Stop this please! This isn’t funny.” The volatile rhythm of my heart suddenly became too loud, too unbearable.

No amount of breaths could repress my violent trembling. A faint flicker from the corner caught my eye — Alucard’s heirloom sword. If his magical estoc was there…he is still in the room with me.

The hairs on my arms shot up, little by little.

Out of nowhere, forceful, ice cold hands prised around my throat, yanking me out of my state of terror. From behind, Alucard, voice grave like a thousand infernal souls, growled into my ear,

“Do you understand the gravity of what you’re asking?”

Whether it was fear or the vice-like grip around my neck, I couldn’t speak.

“Answer me.”

He clamped tighter.

”Ye…yesss,” I wasn’t telling a lie.

“Then let’s finish what we started, shall we?”

One minute I was in Alucard’s death grip, the next I was shoved, hard, into the stone wall, my face chafing against the abrasive mortar. I winced at the pain.

“You’re hurting me, Adrian!”

Behind, he tightened his grip on my wrists, binding them into the small of my back.

“Am I? Ohh…but you like danger, don’t you?...His other hand reached down to unfasten his pants, his erect cock sliding out… “You are drawn to the darkness, just as I am.”

He trailed the words up and down my neck, pausing ever so subtly to savour the scent of blood in my veins.

A small bead of sweat started trickling down my face…no, no, it was blood — from my collision with the wall.

Alucard went eerily still again. I felt a shift in his countenance, like a malevolent cloud obliterating sunshine.

He was hungry.

With one knee, he forced my legs apart and hauled my nightdress up, my backside fully exposed. I could feel the tip of his length against my rear — throbbing, impatient. He snaked his hands all over my naked body, grabbing at my breasts, digging into my thighs.

The scent of my blood set his every carnal need aflame.

Adrian had always been prudent — he would excuse himself at the slightest scent of my exposed blood, isolating himself in the castle dungeons for hours, as if he deserved it. Deserved to be punished for his beastly urges, deserved to be condemned for being born a monster.

Every blood-month I had would send him away for days — “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve seen what I become when I feed… I’ll just be hunting, it’d be just a few days, and your cycle would end when I’m back,” he would say with a smile. A sad smile.

And I was utterly tired and heartbroken that my Adrian, so kind and full of love, would admonish himself, rip his spirit to shreds, for a fate that had been unfairly handed to him. I was going to end this, tonight.

Alucard nuzzled his face into my hair, taking in all my smells, heaving. His body was unyielding against mine — elegant marble against bewitching velvet. I could hear his vampiric heartbeat ringing in his ears, drowning out all sense of reason. He was an animal in heat.

“You know I cannot control myself around you. And you know what your blood does to me�� Do you know how long I haven’t fed?”

His writhing cock was brandishing my cunt, starving for my hole.

“Do you know I think about what it’s like to have your blood in my veins? How much I want it, need it, desire it.

How much I want my blood in you. And you ask this of me, tonight, when I’m sitting at the precipice of hunger and lust…”

There was a sharp intake of breath.

“Hmmm you don’t know what’s coming for you. Once I do this there’s no turning back.

Do you know how long I’ve been holding out for you? To be better for you. And now you ask this of me…”

At that he yanked at my hair, forcing my head to fall back. The red trace on my cheeks bowed complete to his mercy.

Staring defiantly into his eyes, I said, “Do it, Adrian. I want you to.”

Danger, danger.

A devious smile tugged at his lips. Alucard skimmed my neck with his mouth, bruising it with reckless kisses and parlous nips. He moved precariously to suck at the aquamarine veins running down my breasts, licking slow circles about my nipples. He was a wolf dallying with his food.

A true vampire, hedonistic even in the slightest of pursuits, moving inevitably to the blood trail. He had waited so long for this.

Alucard pushed his lips delicately into my face, afraid of spilling even the smallest of drops. My blood was a sacred river, a bath of worship he would praise forever. Shaking, he ravened the scarlet off my face, sucking at the open cut, willing for more.

He was a mixture of muffled moans and enthralled ecstacy.

It was exhaultant. I adored being able to give Adrian what he most craved.

Drinking in more than necessary, the whites of his eyes were no longer — entire sockets now overtaken with crepuscular crypts darker than the blood moon that hung outside.

Alucard’s cock twitched beneath me, length growing harder and bigger by the second. Grunting, he pumped his sex and slid it against my pussy. I was light-headed with anticipation, but he had merely fondled my folds, prodding at my entrance, testing to see how wet I was.

Perhaps he had been right. Perhaps a dissolute part of me yearned for the darkness, but what I’d wanted most of all was to know that I had years, centuries — immortality, to be with Adrian.

Head over my shoulder with eyes like lacquered obsidians, he interlaced his fingers with mine, bringing them down to press at my clit. Flagging off from my most sensitive spot, he traced them up my body, slowly, torturously.

“I wonder…” fingers caressing my abdomen… “how far up…” I gasped as he adjusted them higher… “my cock will go when I’m deep inside you…” Alas settling on a spot above my navel.

A sacred river spawned between my legs.

Incapable of restraint any longer, I reached back to stroke his shaft, thumb stimulating his tip until his pre-load creamed my fingers. I lathered his fluids, relishing in the feel of his hallowed flesh tethered to my hands.

“Fuuuck.” Alucard bristled against my touch, face buried in my neck. Below, he was thrusting at my entrance, not yet entering, readying me for his carnal devotion.

”Adrian please, I need you. I want you inside…”

His last thread of resolve snapped. He rammed his boner into me from behind, stretching me, engulfing me. My tender walls were a haven to his brutal thrusts, welcoming him in. Cock barely to his hilt, he spread my bottocks apart, plunging his engorged member in.

“Ahh…ahh…” I whimpered, hands braced on the wall.

“How are you still so tight…” he hissed, enraged he couldn’t yet feel all of me.

My fingers weaved into his hair, tugging as I leaned further back into him. This feral urge, I craved it. It was scarce enough to satiate the searing lust in me, so I ground impiously against his length like the unholy girl he wanted me to be.

Tonight, he was to have his way. He was the nefarious overlord and I was but a malleable zealot. My hips were firmly held down by his hands — he wanted to control my rhythm. I was, afterall, his submissive little prey.

Alucard forced his cum-stained fingers into my mouth, swirling them about the insides of my cheeks, wresting in and out of my plush lips. I licked at them greedily, suckling on his taste. He was so deft — hands and length penetrating me in a lyrical sync, sating me above and below.

I gagged when he stuck his fingers further down, my throat wedging tight. Tears rimmed my eyes but I continued hollowing my cheeks, head bobbing. “Such a good girl…” praising as he brushed hair off my face. I was to appear immaculate while being fucked indecent.

Hypnotised by his bulge assaulting my hole, I bit sinfully on his index, tearing his skin. He pulled out from my mouth, eyes transfixed on the blot of blood.

“You’re being a naughty little lamb tonight…” His smile was insidious, like a serpent suffocating its meal.

My vampire smothered his blood over my parted lips. My tongue grazed over it, wiping it clean like I was the one writhing in blood lust. What I did had Alucard under a powerful spell. He plummeted his smug into me, our kisses heedless, crashing into each other in depraved lust.

We sucked and bit them swollen, both of us unrestrained and shameless of our monstrous love. Under, he continued hammering his heat into me, hand pushing my cunt back to swallow more of him.

Alucard was never one to trifle with a perfect opportunity. Hands at his favourite spot, he rubbed his digits forcefully at all the places his cock didn’t already fill. My knees buckled at once from overstimulation.

“Stay.” He landed a firm smack onto my soaking sex… “Still.”

“Or I won’t let you cum.” An order.

He bent me over, my backside raised to allow him easy entry. I compelled my wobbly legs to stand, muscles quivering at my bones.

“Good. Hands on the wall.”

Like his obedient little lamb, I hoisted my arms on the cold stone, squeezing taut around my feral wolf.

I was begging, moaning his name, my being in complete disarray.

Content with how tight I was clenching around his shaft, Alucard drove his erection mercilessly into me, pounding so hard I was lifted off the ground.

I cried out in pleasure and pain. “Adrian! Adrian please…”

“You like it when I’m rough with you, baby? You want me to turn you, and fucking you senseless comes with it,” he spat in between thrusts, dragging hair away from my ears to ascertain I could hear him loud and clear.

I was so deliciously filled my lewdness spilled out onto my legs. Paths of sweet nectar trickled down my trembling thighs, glazing his girth with my wicked desire.

I was so close.

Smelling my arousal and imminent climax, Alucard slammed faster into me, his own pace losing cadence.

We were so close.

He had everything timed perfectly. Just as he had countless times before — night creatures and wild animals — all unsuspecting pawns to his blood thirst. He was adept at hiding his deplorable little secret, but I knew better.

Fangs fully exposed, he grazed them masterfully over my neck, humming at my veins and arteries. Quite like a skilled chef discerning food, he was choosing which would taste most exquisite. My scarlet vessels were pulsing in tempo with my heartbeat — palpitating, quivering, waiting.

“Are you frightened? I can feel your terror in my bones…” villainy laced his snarl like a wolf finally rid of sheep’s clothing.

I had to inhale gulps of air to articulate my words, “No….” But what I said or what I thought mattered no longer. Gone was Adrian — human, moral, benign. A bestial, debased monster, instead, all consumed him.

Soulless eyes searched me once more, as if to forewarn me about my perilous decision, as if the human in him was straining to break free of his chains to stop this atrocity.

There was no turning back now.

I offered my neck to him, reckless, bloodstreams on full display. At last, with Alucard’s throbbing cock still stuffed full inside, I felt the firestorm in my core and the crushing torrent soon overcame me.

My release tonight felt different — cathartic. I was once again the delicate driftwood being dragged underwater — careless, aimless, going where the current took me. My limbs fell limp at my sides, my spirit devoid of vigour. And I knew why.

Alucard’s fangs were buried in my neck, drinking my blood as if a divine offering. When did he bite me? I felt no pain, only a rapture so heavenly I ached for more.

And so drink he did. Rivers of blood coated his lips, crimson tributaries surging down his throat. He sucked and lapped at my vital spark, clawing at my body so arduously as if I was the most cherished jewel of immeasurable value.

Like a vampire deprived of debauchery, he drank me in like sweet sin. He had no beginning and no end. And rightfully so. I was profoundly proud of my Adrian. At long last, he no longer had to be ashamed of who he was. He was liberated. He was free.

My racing heart was now a supine hum. I lay naked — pliant and frozen in his arms. The sleepy swell of the ocean lulled me into the black nothingness. I was rising and falling, so in harmony with the current.

Above, hazy sunbeams fractioned the waves like sparkling diamond necklaces. Beneath, the sombre abyss tugged at my essence, diffusing all manner of light. The ominous depth, though a macabre embrace, was one so full of promise. It was beckoning to me, calling my name — stay, stay, stay…

—

I awoke to a pall of infinite blackness.

I had been dreaming. There were shadows — silhouettes, of people I couldn’t quite make out. They were whispering, a sonnet of hurried voices, as if going somewhere, but nowhere at the same time. Then there was a lambent flame — the colour of pale amber, always in the distance but never near. Always tailing, always watching…

Where was I?

I could see nothing, hear nothing. I shifted slightly, and my shoulders were met by cool textile — silk? As more of my senses reconciled, I felt the mattress below me, a satiny divan not reminiscent of my bed. Muted was the air, hollow was the roof, and

…algid was my skin.

I was in a coffin.

Panic coiled through the ridges of my ribs, puncturing my heart like lethal thorns. I clawed and pounded at the wood…was I buried alive?

Alas, like the caves of hell being vaquished by divine light, the casket slid open, and I clambered onto a sprawling granite floor. I was heaving, frantic to take in air, clamouring at my chest as if ghostly hands were crushing my heart, splintering my valves.

Where was Adrian?

A succession of torches adorned the upper vaults, the mellow ebb of light suddenly becoming glaring to my eyes, as if I had been staring directly at the sun. I could make out the phosphorescent ripples and saffron hues that wreathed the flames.

The air smelled vaguely of mildew and crumbling concrete, while the scampering of rodents in between masonry thundered in my ears. I could hear them squeaking, the sounds of their bones compressing while they squeezed through cracks and crevices.

I could hear their heartbeats — tiny surges of blood in their capillaries.

Such fragile little things, I wonder what they’d feel when they’re crushed by the force of my teeth. If they’d feel pain, if any at all, as I drain them dry…

I was so, so hungry.

My awareness had heightened ten-fold, the anarchy of it all confounding whatever human that was left in me. The sensation of everything all at once was too much to bear and I covered my ears to drown out the distress.

Futile efforts indeed.

“Adrian? Adrian…” My voice hoarse from wheezing.

Was this what he had to endure? Being so akin with the presence of entirety, enough to render one insane. Was this why he had been so loath to turn me?

I hauled myself off the ground, bidding my legs to what looked to be a door. Scarce a blink had passed than I was face to face with a metal threshold — intricate lineations etched faintly onto the frame.

“Willing blood of the Raven Maiden,” — Enochian, words of ancient bygone, but Adrian and I had been avid philologists.

I didn’t concern myself with whether the translation had in fact referred to my blood, but I sank my fangs — a lurid extension — into my wrist and smeared them over the threshold.

The magicked portal transported me to a bed chamber, a former bed chamber, now resembling the crux of a dense forest.

Creepers cleaved through stone, while poison vines slivered across furniture. Rich moss clung to the bed frame, eating away at the tulle canopy, embedding itself into rotted linen.

That chaise…it was ours.

Horror flooded my senses as I glanced furtively around.

Our armoire, our settee, our desk.

Strewn across the floor, some shredded by tree roots dissecting the wooden panelling, lay stacks of disintegrating parchment like remnants of forgotten lore.

Vampiric speed overtaking, my eyes scanned the moth-eaten pages over.

“Come back to me.”

I choked on my tears.

“To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster.”

They fell like glass, shattering on the ink, eroding the paper more.

How long had I been asleep for?

“No, no, no…” I wept into the emptiness, anguish imprisoning my lungs, blocking off air. In spite of being undead, I had a heart, and it bled — it bled crimson, pain and grief. It bled with all the words I wished I could take back.

It bled with all the ache that I might never see Adrian again.

I scoured the castle. Every tower, every room, every dungeon, each a shell of its former mirth. The scenes ran parallel — overgrown foliage, wrecked furnishings, pillars atrophied by decay. Our home had been eaten away by the curse of time. There was no sign of life, no essence of Adrian.

With a threshing hole in my heart, I raced past the lattice of abandon toward the main doors. As the iron portcullis lifted, I recoiled at the hell that awaited me.

There, in the blistering winter, impaled upon rows and rows of stakes, dangled festering corpses of night creatures…and humans.

What have I done?

Part I

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madsthedanishdream · 4 months ago

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Home.

Thank you @charliehoennam for discussing this with me! As promised, here's my take on daddy!hubby!David. I hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: I NEED David Loki to be happy and to finally have the family he deserves. He’s suffered so much! Way too much. Especially considering that Jake has confirmed that David is an orphan. Word count: 1.7k TW: the reader is a mum. Implied child mistreatment in recollection.

‘I’m home!’

You always smile when you hear David say it as he closes the front door behind himself. It doesn’t happen every day, sometimes he’s back from work so late you have no choice but to go to bed without him. Then there are those difficult periods right after a fresh case when he doesn’t show up at home for several days and you end up going over to the station to bring him a change of clothes and some food. Still, it makes it that much more special to hear him half-shout this simple greeting. It fills you with warmth and makes your heart flutter. Another reminder of the fact that you’re a family.

You enter the living room just as he finishes removing his boots and coat. Coming over to him, you put your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He smirks and responds, his lips capturing yours as his hands rest comfortably on your waist. His cheeks are cold from the snow outside, and you love the feel of his stubble rasping against your skin.

‘You’re nice and warm,’ David whispers into your neck.

You squeal when he tries to slide his cold palms up under your hoodie. ‘David, don’t, stop!’ laughing, you wriggle out of his embrace.

‘Just trying to get warm, you know.’ Then his expression shifts, becomes gentle. ‘Is she asleep already?’

‘Yeah. I fed her and put her to bed. She was pretty tired.’

David nods. ‘I’m going to wash up and give her a kiss.’

‘Try to be quiet.’

‘Always.’

The water runs and splashes, and then David disappears into your bedroom to get changed. Even though his patrolling days are long gone, his detective’s suit can still get almost as dirty as the uniformed officer’s clothes. Especially considering David’s propensity to poke his nose where he probably shouldn’t, climb into windows, basements, or anywhere else his instinct or clues might lead him.

He emerges from your bedroom wearing an old grey sweatshirt, and quietly opens the door to the nursery. The darkness inside is diluted by the soft glow of the night light pinned to the wall, a peacefully smiling crescent moon perched on the side of a fluffy cloud. David tiptoes to the crib and stands there, quiet and motionless. Alison looks so sweet in her sleep. The sight twists at his heart, almost too beautiful to absorb. It verges on pain. She’s clutching her favourite toy to her small chest, and David feels the pricking of tears sting his eyes. He wants to gather her up, hug her, and shield her from the world and all its evils, the many faces of which he must confront day after day after day after day…

The first time he experienced such an intense, staggering emotion was when he realised he was in love with you. When he knew that he’d do anything, anything at all, to protect you, to always make you feel safe, to never let any harm come your way. To protect and to serve. Yes, that was the oath, but with you, it had acquired a new meaning, a different dimension of depth and acuity. It was similar to how he felt about Alison, but with her, the emotion was even sharper, if that was possible, which was hard to believe. But so true nonetheless. After all, she was but a tiny human being, a copy of both you and him, a mixture of the two of you, a creation of your love and devotion to one another. So utterly helpless without yours and David’s constant attention. And so many more dangers yet to come.

David always tries to push those particular thoughts away.

In time, you’ll both discover that even the most insignificant object lying around at home might in fact prove threatening to this tiny, delicate creature. You’ll both come to fear boiling kettles and knives and plastic bags. You’ll discover new weaknesses and new strengths in yourselves, and then you’ll have to brace yourselves for the bigger dangers lying ahead in the wider world.

But for now, Alison is sleeping, and David is overwhelmed with love and with the knowledge that he’d die before seeing you or his little princess be hurt. You gave a new meaning to his whole life. Before he met you, he would devote himself entirely to his work, and only his work. He had no one, and he lived in an anonymous apartment with sparse furniture coated in a thin film of dust. The furniture he’d use to collapse onto, unfeeling, or to shower, or maybe, if he had the time and the mood was right, to make himself a quick snack before heading out.

In that not-so-distant past, David Loki was prepared to die so long as it meant that Anna Dover survived. Someone else’s child. The child he tried but failed to not feel jealous of, because she did have a father who cared that much.

It was a long time ago when David told you that he never knew his parents and grew up in various orphanages before being shuffled from one foster home to another, eventually ending up in a boys’ home. You dreaded to think of the horrors he’d suffered there. Your desire to shower him with care and affection grew exponentially after he confessed that sad chapter of his life to you. But you’ve been thinking about it much more often recently, whenever you’d feed Alison, or when he’d take her into his arms to gently rock her, humming the lullaby he’d heard from you. No one sang lullabies to him, and so the only ones he knew, he learned them from you.

You recall how, when you were so big it was hard to move, he’d stay up all night, even after coming home unshaven and exhausted after a difficult case, to read up everything he could find on babies, how to handle them, how to change diapers, how to rock them to sleep, how to feed them, what to do when they cried for seemingly no reason at all.

Later… During those other difficult and emotional months, you’d tear up whenever you saw him clutch her to his chest with the desperation of a beggar who’d finally been blessed with a crust of bread.

David’s soft, loving whisper snaps you back to the present.

‘I love you, little princess.’

He leans over the crib to plant a kiss on Alison’s forehead. She moves her small mouth and murmurs something incomprehensible, squeezing her favourite toy in her tiny fingers. David smiles and rubs his hand across his face, shaking his head. He’s blinking uncontrollably, but he looks happy and content.

‘Time for dinner?’ you say as he shuts the nursery door closed.

‘I’m starving,’ he admits.

‘Good. I’ve made your favourite casserole.’

You eat largely in silence, exchanging snippets of information, the highlights of your day. After David polishes his plate clean, you place your hand on top of his. You stroke his hairy skin, his fingers. There’s the masonic ring, and then there’s the wedding band. Even grazing it with your fingertips feels special. A testament.

For a moment, your husband looks lost in thought, his enviably thick and fluffy lashes cast downwards as his thumb makes circular motions across your wrist. You don’t know it, but he’s casting his mind back to when you were in labour. There was that awful thought eating away at him that night, that he didn’t deserve happiness, that it was going to end in tears and blood and pain, simply because he was unworthy of love. At the same time, he’d reprimand himself, as what could have been more selfish than that line of thinking? It was your life at stake, not his. Yours and your baby’s.

Back then, he panicked so hard it almost felt like a heart attack.

He stands up to put the dirty plates into the sink. He places his fists on his hips. He favours and generally defaults to this resting position, as normally his hands would be within reach of his service weapon and his taser.

David shakes his head softly as he realises that the biggest challenge during childbirth, at least for him, had been not being able to be in control. David is used to being in control, and he hates when he is not. When he is that powerless.

Once the dishes have been cleared, you hug him and, giggling, kiss the tip of his nose.

‘And what shall we do now, detective?’

Your playful tone makes David grin.

‘Oh, I don’t know, sweetheart.’ Suddenly, the playfulness is gone, and he’s blinking more rapidly than usual. ‘I just want you to know…’ he squeezes your sides so hard it almost hurts, but it feels so good, so right, to have his strong, wide arms wrapped around you like this. You are sheltered, protected, hidden away from the big and cruel world.

After all, David is your world.

‘What? What do you want me to know?’ you whisper.

‘Fuck. That no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you. For you and for little Alison. Fuck, I’m shit with words, you know me. But I need you to know that I’d die for you, and that those fucking words we recited to each another did mean something special to me.’ David hesitates, smiling with the corner of his mouth. ‘How did you say it? No point in loving someone unless you know you will commit through heaven and hell?’

You nod, fighting happy tears back, clutching him tighter to yourself, grateful for every second you get to spend with him.

No matter how perilous and demanding his work is, you’d never leave him. You’d rather die than be without him.

After all, true love is hard work, isn’t it?

And no, it doesn’t mean that your marriage is perfect. No marriage is. You do fight, you do struggle. But it never crosses your mind to leave, and that’s the most important thing, isn’t it?

Come what may, you’ll deal with it together. You’ll be there for each other.

‘Fuck, baby, I’m so happy,’ he breathes.

You chuckle. ‘Imagine if Alison’s first word is “fuck”.’

David shakes his head, mildly embarrassed.

‘Considering who her parents are…’ He gives your lips another kiss, and this time it’s demanding and passionate. ‘But seriously, what do you think it will be?’

You shrug. ‘Mama? Dada?’

You hope it’s the latter. You can just imagine David’s reaction when he hears Dada fall from Alison’s lips.

He never had the chance to say ‘dad’ to anyone, and now someone he cares deeply about is going to call him just that.

If this is not happiness, then you don’t know what is.

You’re home. Both of you, finally, are.

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thewickedjazzy · 3 months ago

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⌞𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰⌝

Part II : 𝙏𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚

Pairings: mafia boss!Chuuya x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, super fluff, mention of death, mention of other dimensions, mention of panic attack, mention of cheating, mention of blood, bsd beast spoilers ahead, Let me know if I forgot any!

Author's note: Guess who's back? This part is actually my favourite. It portrays a lot of human emotions. Also, this AU is heavily inspired by bsd beast, so a tw to my fellow dazai kinnes. I'm sorry :(. Hope you enjoy it Xx.

↠Part I

Word count : 6.8k

In an alternate universe, the same pale moonlight bathed the streets of Yokohama. The night was a deep, biting cold as Y/N's shaky breath turned to mist with each exhale, lingering in the air for just a moment before dissipating into the dark. She moved with urgency, her steps quickening as she neared the apartment she shared with Daiki—her boyfriend of two years.

Y/N was no ordinary woman; she was Chuuya Nakahara’s right hand, the most feared member of the Port Mafia. An elegant maneater with a reputation that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened criminals, she wielded a powerful ability that made all the mafia members think thrice before talking to her. Her presence alone commanded respect and fear in equal measure, and her beauty was a dangerous allure that concealed the deadly strength beneath.

Yet, as she neared the penthouse, her mind was consumed with thoughts that had nothing to do with power or the underworld she ruled so effortlessly.

Her mind was a whirlwind of denial and disbelief, the echo of doubt gnawing at the edges of her thoughts. This can’t be right, she told herself. Daiki wouldn’t cheat on me. He wouldn’t.

But the morning’s events replayed in her mind, the scene etched vividly into her memory. She had been at her favorite clothing store, browsing through the latest arrivals, the scent of new fabric and soft music soothing her senses. As she approached the cashier to pay, her attention was drawn to a woman nearby, holding up a dress and laughing into her phone. The woman was middle-aged, her voice carrying a tone of flirtatious teasing as she moved closer to the cashier.

Y/N hadn’t meant to listen, but the woman’s words cut through the air like a knife. "Oh, stop it, Daiki. We went two rounds yesterday. Isn’t that enough, babe?"

She froze in place, her heart skipping a beat. Daiki? The name hit her like a jolt of electricity. It was too much of a coincidence, but maybe—just maybe—there was another man with the same name. Her mind clung to that fragile hope, even as her gaze instinctively shifted to the woman’s hand.

And then she saw it—the credit card the woman was holding. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the familiar design, the embossed letters spelling out a name she knew too well. Daiki’s card.

A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to stay calm, to complete her transaction and leave the store without drawing attention. The woman’s laughter still echoed in her ears, each note twisting the knife deeper into her heart.

Now, as Y/N approached the penthouse's apartment, her hand cold from the freezing air as she unlocked the door, pushing it open with a sense of dread. The apartment was quiet, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound. She felt a cold, calculated calm settle over her. She knew what she needed to do.

Y/N changed into her usual red silk robe, the fabric cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the heat of her emotions. She poured herself a drink, the amber liquid steadying her nerves as she waited in the dimly lit living room. The silence of the apartment was deafening, every tick of the clock amplifying the tension that hung in the air.

Hours passed before the sound of a key turning in the lock signaled Daiki’s arrival. She didn’t move, her posture relaxed as she sat in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other, the drink held delicately in her hand. She watched as Daiki entered, oblivious at first to the storm he was walking into.

"Y/N, you’re home early," he said, closing the door behind him and setting his bag down. "Everything okay?"

Y/N took a slow sip of her drink, letting the silence stretch between them before she finally spoke. "Daiki," she began, her voice smooth and controlled, "I had an interesting morning today."

He froze, the unease in his eyes growing. "Oh? What happened?"

She swirled the liquid in her glass, her gaze never leaving his. "I was at the store, buying a few things. And I overheard a woman on the phone, talking to someone named Daiki. She was laughing, calling him ‘babe,’ talking about how they went ‘two rounds’ yesterday." Her tone remained calm, almost conversational, but the undercurrent of danger was unmistakable. "Then, I saw the credit card she was holding. It was yours."

Daiki’s face drained of color, his confident facade crumbling under the weight of her words. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand, stopping him before he could stammer out a lie.

"Don’t," she warned, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I want the truth, Daiki. How long has this been going on?"

He hesitated, knowing there was no escape, no room for deceit. "Six months," he admitted, his voice trembling. "It’s been six months."

Y/N felt the sting of his confession, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, her expression one of detached curiosity. "Six months," she repeated, her tone laced with a hint of mockery. "And you thought I wouldn’t find out? You thought you could keep lying to me, coming home to me every night, and I’d just go on believing everything was fine?"

Daiki flinched, the realization of his mistake written all over his face. "Y/N, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just…"

"You just what?" Y/N cut him off, her eyes narrowing. "Got bored? Wanted something new and exciting? Tell me, Daiki, did you think of me at all during these last six months? Or was I just the convenient one—the one you could always come back to when you were done with your little adventures?"

Daiki lowered his gaze to the wooden floor, " It was a mistake...I didn't- "

Y/N's scoff cut him off, "A mistake is when you leave the food out of the refrigerator overnight. But cheating? For months? No, it takes too much... too much lying, sneaking around, and screwing around to be a mistake."

He swallowed hard, his guilt evident. "It wasn’t like that," he pleaded, but the desperation in his voice only fueled her anger.

"Then what was it like?" she demanded, her calm exterior cracking just enough to let her fury shine through. "Tell me, Daiki, how does it feel to know that you’ve lost everything—because that’s what’s happened. You’ve lost me."

Daiki took a step toward her, but she remained unmoved, her gaze icy. "Don’t come any closer," she warned, her voice cold and commanding. "You’re not going to talk your way out of this. We’re done."

The finality in her tone left no room for argument. Daiki stopped in his tracks, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He looked at her, a mixture of regret and sorrow in his eyes, but she was unmoved. She had made her decision, and there was no going back.

"Pack your things," she said calmly, setting her glass down on the table beside her. "And be gone by morning. I don’t want to see you again."

With those words, she rose from the chair, her movements graceful and deliberate. She walked past him without a second glance, heading to the bedroom where she would lock the door behind her, shutting out the man who had betrayed her so deeply.

As she closed the door, Y/N leaned against it for a moment, the reality of what had just happened washing over her. The calm she had maintained began to slip away, replaced by the ache of betrayal and the hollow emptiness left in its wake. But she refused to let herself crumble. Not yet. Not when there was still so much to be done.

The next morning, Y/N arrived at the Port Mafia headquarters, her usual poise and grace firmly in place, though beneath it all, a hollow ache had settled in her chest. She moved through her tasks mechanically, her mind a whirlwind of betrayal and sadness that she tried desperately to push away.

Chuuya watched her from across the room, his sharp eyes missing nothing. He had known her for years, had seen her in battle, had watched her navigate the treacherous waters of their world with a confidence that few could match. But today, something was different. Her movements were precise, but lacked the usual fluidity; her gaze was distant, as if she were somewhere else entirely.

When the meeting ended, Chuuya lingered, his concern deepening as she made to leave without a word. "Y/N," he called out, his voice cutting through the quiet.

She paused, turning to face him. "Yes, boss?"

He approached her, his expression serious. "You’re not yourself today. What happened?"

Y/N hesitated, the truth heavy on her tongue. But Chuuya’s steady gaze, his unspoken support, broke through her defences. "I found out Daiki’s been cheating on me," She confessed, her voice strained. "For six months."

Chuuya’s eyes darkened with anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "That bastard."

"I don’t want to talk about it," Y/N said quickly, not wanting to dwell on the pain. "I just want to work."

But Chuuya wasn’t willing to let it go so easily. "You deserve better," he said softly, the intensity of his feelings clear in his voice. "Don’t let him take anything more from you."

Y/N met his gaze, and for a moment, the weight of her hurt eased, replaced by a warmth she hadn’t expected. "Thank you, boss," she murmured, her voice slightly above a whisper.

As she turned to leave, Chuuya’s voice stopped her once more. "Remember, Y/N—whatever happens, I’ve got your back."

She nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips despite the pain still lingering in her heart. "I know," she said, and with that, she walked away, her steps a little lighter, knowing she wasn’t alone.

Chuuya Nakahara had not always been the leader of the Port Mafia. There was a time when he served under Dazai Osamu, the enigmatic and powerful boss whose ability to nullify others’ abilities had been a cornerstone of the mafia’s strength. But Dazai was more than just a boss to Chuuya; even though he used to despise Dazai's carefree attitude, nevertheless he still considered him as a friend, a partner who understood the burden of Chuuya’s cursed power—Arahabaki, the god of destruction that lived within him.

Dazai’s ability, No Longer Human, was the only thing that could stop Chuuya’s corruption form—a state of near-unlimited power that came with a steep price: the loss of his humanity. In his corruption form, Chuuya became a force of destruction, but without Dazai to nullify his power, he risked being consumed by it completely.

When Dazai died, Chuuya was left with a void that no one could fill. The responsibility of leading the Port Mafia fell to him, and with it, the fear of what might happen if his corruption ever went unchecked. But there was one person who could offer a solution—Y/N.

Y/N’s ability, 'Malevolent Marionette', was unlike anything Chuuya had ever encountered. By touching someone, she could create a replica of them—a puppet under her control. But it wasn’t just any puppet; it was a copy that mirrored the original in every way, down to their abilities. And if she destroyed the puppet, the original would suffer the same fate.

Before Dazai’s death, Chuuya and Y/N had trained together, testing the limits of her ability. The goal was simple yet terrifying: to see if she could create a replica of Chuuya’s corruption form and destroy it, thereby breaking the cycle of destruction without killing him. It was a risky, dangerous experiment, one that required absolute trust between them.

Chuuya’s eyes were locked on Y/N, a mix of skepticism and trust evident in his gaze.

“Alright, Y/N. You’re sure you can handle this? I don’t want to end up wrecking the whole place.”

Y/N gave him a steady look, “I’ve trained for this, Chuuya. I’m confident in my ability.”

Dazai, standing with his usual relaxed demeanor, glanced between them with a hint of a smirk. “Just make sure to not repeat what happened. Last time you nearly brought the entire building down."

Chuuya scoffed crossing his arms and shooting him a death glare. “Like I need you to remind me. I’m perfectly aware of the risks.”

Dazai’s grin widened. “Just making sure. You know how you can be.”

Chuuya’s eyes narrowed. “And you know how you can be. Always acting like this is some kind of joke.”

“Come on, Chuuya,” Dazai said with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s not every day we get to see you in a vulnerable state. I’m just here to make sure things don’t get out of hand.”

" Shut your mouth! " Chuuya grumbled, his irritation barely concealed as he sighed again taking off his leather gloves, “O’ grantors of dark disgrace,” he incanted, his voice resonating with an eerie gravitas, “do not wake me up again.”

In an instant, Chuuya’s corruption form took over, his body transforming into a terrifying visage of dark energy and raw power. the marks of Arahabaki on his body seem to burn his skin like hell and rip apart his flesh to blood.

Dazai’s ability was their safeguard, ready to nullify the dangerous corruption if Y/N’s replica wasn’t enough.

Y/N took her position, her focus unwavering as she approached him. She extended her hand managing to touch him, the air around her shimmering with the power of her ability. Her goal was to create a replica of Chuuya’s corruption form—a copy that would mimic the original’s abilities but could be destroyed without harming Chuuya himself.

As the replica began to take shape, Chuuya’s corruption form roared with fury, as Y/N was pushed to the ground but her focus still remained as the replica of Chuuya’s corruption form fully materialized, a dark twin of the original, its power radiating with a terrifying intensity. Y/N maneuvered carefully, her control over the replica precise as she prepared to destroy it.

Dazai watched with a keen eye, ready to intervene if necessary. “Remember, Y/N,” he said calmly, “the key is to separate his consciousness from the corruption.”

"Ugh, shut up, boss... I can do this," Y/N growled as she focused on the replica. She could feel the pressure mounting, the weight of responsibility heavy on her shoulders.

In a sudden burst of light, the replica began to disintegrate, its form unraveling into wisps of dark energy that evaporated into nothingness.

As the light faded, she collapsed to the ground, her body trembling from the exertion. A warm trickle ran down from her nose—blood, a sign that she had pushed herself too far. But she had done it.

Chuuya, now freed from the grasp of his corruption form, staggered backward, his legs giving out beneath him. His breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle as he tried to gather his strength. Finally, with a groan, he collapsed to the floor, his usual appearance restored. He glanced over at Y/N, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion.

"Fuck... that was...unexpected yet quick." he managed to rasp out, his breaths shallow and uneven. He barely had time to register what had happened before he succumbed to his exhaustion, slipping into unconsciousness.

Y/N, despite her own fatigue, couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his words. She pushed herself up, her legs shaky, and made her way over to where Chuuya lay. Gently, she knelt beside him, her fingers brushing lightly over his face, smoothing back his disheveled hair. There was something tender in the way she touched him.

Dazai, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with his usual detached amusement, approached them both, his smirk widening into a grin. "You’re one hell of a woman, Y/N," he remarked, his tone laced with admiration as he knelt beside her.

Together, they lifted Chuuya’s unconscious form, each of them bearing the weight of the man they had both come to care for in their own ways. As they began to carry him out of the training room, the tension that had filled the air slowly dissipated, replaced by a quiet, shared understanding.

They succeeded. Time and time again, Y/N managed to create a replica of Arahabaki, separating the god’s consciousness from Chuuya’s own. And each time, when she destroyed the replica, Chuuya returned to his normal state, free from the corruption that threatened to consume him.

In those moments, Chuuya entrusted Y/N with his life, and she never once let him down. The bond they formed through those trials was unbreakable, forged in the crucible of life and death.

Now, as Chuuya watched Y/N walk away, he couldn’t help but think of those moments—the times when they had fought side by side, each trusting the other with everything they had. He owed her more than he could ever repay, and the thought of her in pain filled him with a deep, protective instinct.

Y/N might have been betrayed by Daiki, but Chuuya would never betray her. He would stand by her, as she had always stood by him, through the trials and tribulations that came with their dangerous lives.

The day went by just as usual as her shift came to its end she went back to her penthouse, pushing open the door to her apartment that she once shared with Daiki.

The silence of the space pressing in on her as she stepped inside, it's the first night without him. She leaned back against the door, her fingers lingering on the lock for a moment before she turned it, shutting out the world behind her. The ache in her chest hadn’t lessened, but she refused to let it show. But since she's in the solitude of her own home, she felt comfortable to let it out just for a bit.

She moved through the apartment with mechanical precision, slipping out of her clothes and into a burgundy nightgown. The fabric was soft against her skin, but it brought little comfort. Her mind was still spinning, replaying the events of the day over and over, each memory like a fresh wound.

Pouring herself a glass of wine, Y/N made her way to the living room. The city lights outside her window cast a dim glow across the space, but it did nothing to lift the heaviness in her heart. She settled onto the couch, the glass of wine in her hand, and reached for the remote.

She flicked through her music library until she found what she was looking for—Lost on You by LP. The opening chords filled the room, the haunting melody wrapping around her like a shroud. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, each note resonating with the sorrow she had been holding back.

As the song played on, Y/N felt the tears she had been fighting all day begin to well up. She tried to hold them back, tried to maintain the composure that had seen her through so much. But here, alone in the dark, there was no reason to pretend. The first tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, and then another, until she was crying in earnest, the weight of the day’s revelations finally breaking through her defenses.

Her mascara streaked her face, black tears mingling with the clear ones as they fell. She took a sip of her wine, the bitter taste matching the bitterness in her heart, and let herself cry. The music swelled around her, LP’s voice echoing her pain, and for a moment, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.

It was then that she heard it—a knock at the door, faint at first, then louder. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat as she wiped at her eyes, smearing the mascara further. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and the idea of facing someone in her current state made her hesitate. But the knocking continued, insistent, and finally, she rose from the couch, setting her glass down with a shaky hand.

Chuuya stood on the other side, his eyes swept over her, taking in the burgundy nightgown she wore and the tracks of mascara staining her cheeks. Despite the sadness in her eyes, there was a fierce beauty about her that made his breath catch.

“Chuuya?” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion.

He gave her a small, almost hesitant smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I heard the music from the hallway,” he said, his tone light, but his gaze serious. “It’s pretty loud, you know. Also...LP? Seriously?”

Y/N managed a weak chuckle, though it was more of a broken sound than anything else. She looked down at herself, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way she wasn’t used to. "It’s fitting for the mood."

He chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "Yeah, I can see that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect anyone to show up.." She says with a crack in her voice.

Chuuya shook his head, his expression softening further. “You don’t have to apologize.” He paused, searching her eyes. “Can I come in?”

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. Letting Chuuya in meant letting him see her like this, letting him into the part of her life she usually kept hidden behind walls of strength and control. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but concern, nothing but a genuine desire to be there for her.

She stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Of course.”

Chuuya entered, closing the door gently behind him. The music was still playing, LP’s voice a backdrop to the quiet tension between them. He glanced around the apartment, noting the half-empty bottle of wine on the table, the discarded clothes on the floor, the general disarray that was so unlike her.

Y/N made her way back to the couch, sinking down onto it with a sigh. She picked up her glass, taking another sip as she tried to steady herself. Chuuya followed her, sitting down beside her, his presence a comforting warmth against the chill in her heart.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The music played on, filling the silence with its melancholy melody. Finally, Chuuya broke the silence, his voice gentle. “Hey… I’m sorry.”

She glanced at him, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “For what?”

“For what he did to you,” Chuuya replied, his voice tinged with anger. “You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much more.”

Y/N looked away, her gaze fixed on the glass in her hand. “I don’t know what I deserve anymore,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I thought I had everything figured out. I thought… I thought he loved me.”

Chuuya’s hand found hers, his touch warm and grounding. “He’s a fool,” he said firmly. “A complete idiot for not seeing what he had.”

She felt a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over, but she swallowed them back, not wanting to break down again. “Thank you, Chuuya,” she whispered. “I… I just don’t know how to move on from this.”

He squeezed her hand gently, his voice low and steady. “You don’t have to figure it out right now. Just take it one step at a time. And know that you don’t have to do it alone.”

Y/N finally looked at him, her eyes searching his for something she couldn’t quite name. In that moment, she saw the depth of his care for her, the strength of the bond they had built over years of fighting side by side. It wasn’t just about loyalty or duty—it was something more, something that neither of them had ever put into words.

“Why are you here, Chuuya?” she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

"I was worried about you. I had to check on you." Chuuya said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that soothed her frayed nerves.

"You didnt have to." She says softly her voice barely above a whisper.

" Oh shut up!" A faint smile curved his lips, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Chuuya watched her silently taking in the sight of her hurting, of her trying to drown her pain in wine, ignited something deep within him—a fierce protectiveness, mingled with an ache that he had tried to suppress for so long. It ate at him, knowing that someone else had caused her this pain. He felt a primal urge to make things right. She was supposed to be safe and cherished, not suffering from the betrayal of someone so unworthy.

Y/N’s eyes were locked on the glass in her hands, her fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly. After a while she reached for her phone as she scrolled through her social media accounts, her hands trembling as she navigated to Daiki’s profile. Her intention was simple—block him, sever the last connection to the pain he had caused her. But as she refreshed the page, her heart dropped when she saw a new post.

There, in stark contrast to her own anguish, was Daiki, smiling broadly next to the woman he had been cheating on her with. They were holding up their hands, showing off engagement rings that gleamed with an almost mocking brilliance. The caption was a blur of words that Y/N couldn’t even bring herself to read.

Y/N’s vision blurred with fresh tears, and her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. The room seemed to spin around her as panic surged through her. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she struggled to process the sight of them celebrating a future she had once imagined for herself.

Chuuya, still seated beside her, noticed the sudden change in her demeanor immediately. He turned his head just in time to see the post on her screen. His expression darkened with fury, but his primary concern was Y/N’s distress. He reached out, his voice urgent and soothing. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Her hands shook letting her phone drop off, she clutched her hands to her chest, her breaths coming in frantic, uneven bursts. “I—I can’t… I can’t breathe…”

Chuuya immediately moved closer, his concern intensifying. He guided her to lean back against the couch, trying to calm her. “Look at me, Y/N. Focus on me. Breathe with me, okay?”

He took slow, deep breaths, trying to match his breathing with hers to help regulate her panic. “Inhale deeply through your nose… hold it for a second… and then exhale slowly through your mouth.”

Y/N’s vision was clouded by tears, her body trembling uncontrollably. “It’s too much… I can’t…”

Without hesitation, he pulled her to sit up again and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Shh, it’s okay. Just breathe, Y/N. I’m here.”

She buried her face in his chest, her sobs coming out in choked, disjointed gasps. “How… how could he?” she muttered between breaths, her voice barely coherent. “How could he do this to me?”

Chuuya gently rubbed her back, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her temple in an attempt to soothe her. “Hey, dont think about this now. Breathe 'kay?”

Y/N’s breaths remained erratic, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she clung to Chuuya. The pain in her eyes was a stark contrast to his calm demeanor, but his steady presence seemed to anchor her amidst the turmoil.

Chuuya kept his voice soft and reassuring, his hand gently stroking her back. “You’re safe here. Focus on me 'kay? Inhale through your nose… hold it… now exhale slowly.”

He continued the breathing exercise, his own breaths deep and measured, hoping to guide her through the panic. His heart ached seeing her so distraught, and every tremor of her body felt like a piercing ache through his own.

Y/N’s sobs began to lessen, though she still trembled in his arms. “Why does it hurt so much?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Chuuya’s grip tightened around her, his tone filled with a protective intensity. “Because you loved him, and he betrayed that love. It’s okay to hurt. But you’re strong, and you’ll get through this. You have to believe that.”

Her breathing started to steady as she focused on his words and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. “Thank you, Chuuya,” she murmured, her voice muffled against him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Chuuya gently kissed her temple again, his voice firm but tender. “You’ll never have to find out. I'm here. I’ll stay with you through this, and I’ll help you get through it, 'kay?”

Y/N nodded weakly, her grip on Chuuya’s shirt loosening as her breathing grew more even. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice still fragile but steadier.

He gently stroked her hair, offering her the silent comfort of his presence. The tears that had been pouring from her eyes now slowed to a trickle, her breathing gradually returning to a more regular rhythm.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes still red and puffy but holding a glimmer of embarrassment. " This is embarrassing... I never break down in front of anyone... not even Daiki. "

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his gaze steady. “ You don't have to be embarrassed dumbass." He couldn’t help but smile softly as he saw her let out a faint chuckle. “We all have our inner battles and struggles.”

She smiled and rested her head on his chest, taking deep breaths. Chuuya wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she found solace in his steady presence.

Chuuya's days revolved around Y/N in a comforting routine. Despite his position as the mafia boss, he made sure to take time each morning to prepare her favorite coffee, carefully brewing it just the way she liked. He would also bake her the special cookies she adored, often leaving them on her desk with a note that read, “For the most amazing right-hand.”

Y/N appreciated these gestures deeply. Even though her stoic exterior rarely cracked, the little things Chuuya did never failed to make her smile and blush. She kept these feelings to herself, unsure if he reciprocated her affection. It was clear he cared for her deeply, but whether it was the same kind of love she felt remained a mystery.

Three months had passed since Daiki’s betrayal, and though Y/N had made significant progress in healing, her heart could not ignore the way Chuuya’s unwavering care and support had become a cornerstone of her recovery. Unbeknownst to her, Chuuya had taken his own actions to ensure Daiki’s suffering, sending the Black Lizard to ruin Daiki and his new fiancée's engagement party as a silent retribution. But he kept this from Y/N, choosing to focus on her well-being rather than the vengeance he sought.

It was a usual Friday evening as Chuuya and Y/N were seated in his office, their usual conversation flowing easily. The office was a haven of tranquility, away from the chaos of the outside world. Chuuya leaned back in his chair, watching Y/N with a soft smile as she recounted a particularly amusing incident from their recent mission.

Suddenly, the door to his office burst open, and Akutagawa rushed in, panting heavily. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by visible panic. “Boss! Y/N! There’s something happening in Yokohama. It’s—”

Hirotsu took a deep breath, struggling to regain his composure. “It’s a tripolar singularity. We’ve never seen anything like it. It’s causing massive destruction in the city center.”

Chuuya’s expression shifted instantly from calm to intense focus. “A singularity? What the hell is going on in Yokohama?”

“It appeared out of nowhere,” Hirotsu explained, his voice tight with urgency. “It’s unleashing some kind of beast or force. The situation is escalating rapidly.”

Y/N stood up, her expression shifting to one of determination. “Fuck! We need to deal with this now. If it’s causing that much destruction, only us can handle it.”

Chuuya nodded, his gaze meeting Y/N’s with a fierce resolve. “You’re right. We need to act quickly. Hirtosu-san, assemble the Black Lizard and get to the heart of the disturbance. Do not engage!! Just wait for us, we will join you shortly.”

Hirotsu nodded sharply, already turning to leave. “Understood, Boss. We’ll move out immediately.”

Y/N exhaled, rubbing her temple. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

As Y/N and Chuuya made their way through the chaos, the sight that greeted them at the center of the disturbance was unlike anything they had ever encountered. The tripolar singularity loomed ominously in the air, casting an eerie light over the battlefield. Amid the swirling energy and debris stood the divine creature—a figure cloaked in an otherworldly aura, partially hidden by a white sheet adorned with black symbols, and fabric ribbons fluttering in the wind. The creature’s face was obscured, and its presence radiated a chilling lack of emotion.

Y/N's heart sank as she took in the scene before her. The Black Lizard lay scattered and bleeding, their faces twisted in pain and shock. The sheer devastation was overwhelming, and the sight of their fallen comrades brought tears of frustration to her eyes.

"No way-" Her voice cracked struggling to maintain her composure.

Chuuya’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. He turned to Y/N, his expression serious. “I need you to focus. We’re going to have to act quickly if we’re going to have any chance of stopping this.”

He was already formulating a plan, but it was a risky one. Chuuya knew that the creature was not just any opponent—it was a force of nature, and their usual strategies might not be enough. He needed to buy Y/N the time she required to confront the creature directly.

“Y/N,” Chuuya began, his voice steady despite the danger. “I’m going to draw its attention away from you. You’ll need to get close enough to touch it and use your ability.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? We need a better plan than that!”

“I don’t have time to explain every detail,” Chuuya said firmly, his expression resolute. “Trust me. Just be ready to act when I give the signal.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Chuuya took a deep breath and made a decision that he knew could be fatal.

With a determined look, he stepped forward and muttered the incantation he knew all too well, “O' grantors of dark disgrace. Do not wake me up again.”

Immediately, he began to transform into his corruption form. The familiar surge of power and dark energy enveloped him, and the change was instantaneous. His eyes burned with an intense, fiery white glow, and his presence became both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Y/N’s heart raced as she watched him, realizing what he was about to do. “No, Chuuya, don’t—”

But it was too late. Chuuya was already moving towards the creature, his corruption form radiating a menacing energy. He engaged the divine being, drawing its focus away from Y/N by shooting black holes towards him. The creature seemed momentarily intrigued by the sudden, overwhelming presence, shifting its attention toward Chuuya.

As the battle intensified, Y/N knew she had to act quickly. She could see Chuuya’s determination clear as day. With a heavy heart and tears blurring her vision, she prepared herself to use her ability. She focused on the creature, gathering her strength and steeling her resolve. Chuuya was putting everything on the line for her, and she couldn’t let him down, maybe if she acted fast enough she could save him. Only if she can master her ability and manage to create two replicas at the same time. But it was impossible, even if she wanted to put it into test, she couldn't move all the way and touch Chuuya before destroying the creature, he'd kill them both.

The battle raged on, the creature’s power clashing with Chuuya’s corrupted form. Y/N moved with urgency, dodging debris and managing to touch the creature, using her ability to create a replica of the divine being. She had to destroy it before Arahabaki takes over Chuuya completely. Every second felt like an eternity as she concentrated on her task, hoping that Chuuya’s gamble would not end in tragedy.

Y/N’s heart raced as she struggled with the replica of the tripolar singularity. Its strength was overwhelming, and for a moment, it seemed like it might overpower her. But she focused, channeling all her energy and resolve into destroying it. With a final surge of power, she shattered the replica into pieces, the divine being vanishing in a burst of light.

She dashed toward Chuuya, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The sight that met her eyes was devastating—Chuuya’s corruption form had taken a tremendous toll on his body. No wonder that his inner organs were damaged by now, he was barely holding on. Tears streamed down her face as she touched him, creating a replica of his Arahabaki form. She destroyed it with all her strength, hoping it would be enough.

But it was too late. The damage was done. Chuuya’s body lay on the ground, blood pooling around him. Y/N’s vision blurred with tears, and her own strength began to falter from the strain of overusing her ability. She cradled Chuuya’s face, her voice trembling as she tried to comfort him.

"No no no no no" she shook her head tears streaming down soaking her cheeks , her voice breaking, “Chuuya, you’re going to make it. You have to hold on.”

Chuuya’s hand weakly reached up to touch her cheek, “Y/N… you did well,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I—” He struggled to continue, his strength fading. “I’ve loved you… for so long... I'm sorry it was the only way to save you—”

The confession was barely audible, but it cut through the chaos like a knife. Tears poured freely from Y/N’s eyes as she held him close, her heart aching with the weight of his words and the gravity of the moment. Chuuya’s hand fell from her face, his strength giving out. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing until it ceased.

A guttural scream tore from Y/N’s throat, a raw expression of grief and despair. She had lost him—everything she had fought for, everything she had loved. Her world shattered around her as she clung to him, her heartbroken cries echoing through the devastation.

Y/N’s world spun as she lost consciousness, the weight of her grief and the toll of her powers overwhelming her. The last thing she felt was the cold, lifeless form of Chuuya in her arms, the pain of his absence like a searing wound in her heart.

Minutes later, she stirred, the oppressive darkness of the battlefield replaced by a blinding light. Groaning softly, she tried to open her eyes, only to be met with an overwhelming radiance that made her eyes squint painfully. Slowly, she adjusted, her blurred vision focusing on the sight of Chuuya’s lifeless body still resting in her arms. Her tears began to flow anew, each drop a testament to the depth of her sorrow.

The light grew more intense, and she noticed a rift opening before her, a swirling vortex that seemed to pulse with otherworldly energy. The rift beckoned, its ethereal glow contrasting sharply with the stark reality of Chuuya’s death.

With trembling hands, Y/N placed a soft, lingering kiss on Chuuya’s cold forehead, her heart breaking with each tender touch. “Goodbye, boss,” she whispered through her tears, her voice choked with grief. "I'll always love you."

She gently laid his body down, her fingers brushing his hair one last time as she prepared to step through the rift. The light beckoned her, a beacon in the midst of her despair. Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked through it, her body and mind exhausted from the emotional and physical toll. Why is she doing this? She has no idea, but if this rift is connected to the tripolar singularity by any means, then she'll finally figure things out.

The world around her seemed to warp and shift, and she found herself emerging into a new, unfamiliar realm. It was a lush, verdant forest bathed in soft, dappled moonlight. The air was filled with the soothing sounds of nature, a stark contrast to the devastation she had just witnessed.

As she moved through the rift, her eyes fell upon a figure standing in the clearing. It was him—Chuuya. He was dressed in slightly different attire, but it was unmistakably him. He stood there, his gaze locked onto her, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. Her legs felt weak, her emotions swirling in a storm of confusion and hope.

"Boss?" they both exclaimed simultaneously, their voices echoing the confusion and recognition that filled their hearts.

A/N: Ayo!! I can't express how much fun it was to write this part. I am silently crying over Chuuya's death, but it is for the plot 🙂‍↕️. I'll post part three next week fingers crossed that the angst will be over by then cause my heart is shattered.

➵Want more of Chuuya Nakahara ?

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lalalian · 2 months ago

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anti shifters are actually worse than yall think

‘you’re mentally ill’ ’get help’ and then they try to explain why they’re being a whole ass bully with ‘but im just trying to help’

so if you think we’re mentally ill, why treat us like bugs… you wouldn’t tell a depressed person that they’re a weak ass piece of shit for being depressed, would you? you wouldn’t dox a person with dementia, would you? So are you trying to help, or are you trying to feel superior to us?

I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t harass a person who believed the earth was flat. I absolutely don’t believe the earth is flat; why? Not only bc it’s not destroying their lives, but because there are so many different tests to prove the earth isn’t fucking flat.

You can’t prove shifting isn’t real just as much as we can’t prove that it is real. I can’t bring a piece of a different dimension back to this reality, sorry!

‘but if shifting was real, wouldn’t this be a big breakthrough in science?’

TW: mention of babies undergoing surgery without anesthesia

…Humans discovered that babies could experience pain in the mid 1980s. The 20th century. Babies underwent surgery without anesthesia. Only muscle relaxants were provided to prevent them from thrashing around while they’re literally being cut open.

If someone were to say in the 1970s "babies literally can experience pain…"

"but wouldn’t that be a huge scientific breakthrough….?"

Did we have the same advanced technology in the 20th century as we do in the 21st century? No. We didn’t even think we would be able see to our fucking bones without hacking our flesh open until 1895. We didn’t have the same technology then. We won’t have the same kind of technology 100s of years from now.

Nobody is forcing you to believe in shifting. YOU are the one commenting, hating, dehumanizing people. Just because we can’t prove something with the technology we have now, doesn’t mean we won’t in the future.

Just because shifters believe in shifting doesn't mean we're a cult. There is no cult leader. People come and go from the shifting community like water and without shame. Nobody is shamed, doxxed, or outcasted by giving up shifting. Nobody has to pay to shift. People who haven't shifted aren't shamed. People who have shifted aren't better than those who have not, and instead of acting like they're better than anyone else, most just provide tips or post storytimes. Shifters aren't forcibly isolated from the outside world, and the vast majority of shifters have non-shifter friends (including me). Questions about shifting and the logistics of shifting are more than welcomed by the shifting community; people want to learn more about shifting. Nobody has unrelenting, unconditional loyalty to 'the leader'. Literally if a shifter is a piece of shit, they're called out on their bullshit. Shifting is not a means to better 'the leader', which, again, there is no leader. Who tf would even be the leader of the shifting community anyway...

ugh it makes me so angry when ppl call shifting a cult. literally, i saw one girl put up a chart on tiktok that LITERALLY CONTRADICTS HER CLAIM that shifting is a cult. but non-shifters in the comments were eating it up... did nobody look at the chart.........????????????????????

We do not have the means to prove shifting as of right now, well maybe besides for bringing back skills-- but yk besides that (even then I’m sure people would think we’re lying)

#fuck anti shifters #shiftblr #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting blog #lalalian #desired reality #shifters #shifting diary #shifttok #scripting

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tumble-witch · 11 months ago

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TW light suggestion of body horror. No descriptions though!

Creatomachia

Bunnix shows up in Marinette's bedroom when it's already dark outside.

Marinette knows what the older heroine is about to ask the second she hears the burrow open. When Bunnix greets her, Marinette is hyperventilating. Instead of exchanging pleasantries, she asks:

- Is it... him again?

Bunnix has a grim expression on her face, yet shakes her head. Marinette exhales. She has another question.

- Is it something I did?

- No. I'm sorry I'm asking this from you again. I'm sorry there will be no answers yet.

- It's okay. I am ready.

At first Ladybug thinks she is on another planet. Another dimension, even. There are cloud fractals in the sky. There is a street light growing out of another one, growing out of another one, growing out of another one... Trees are huge and have so many leaves they are almost a solid green mass. Some buildings are so tall they go way past the clouds in a curvy line. It reminds her of the Jack and the Beanstalk fairytale her mom used to read her before bed.

The roads branch out like blood vessels, getting smaller with each separation, ending in dead ends near the buildings or growing vertically on top of the walls.

The whole city almost looks like it could move at any second. It almost looks alive.

As Ladybug progresses through the streets (if she can even call them that), she finally realizes where the people are.

At least, what's left of them.

Infinite growth apparently works on humans, too. She never thought she'd be so thankful to see somebody not move.

The silence makes her ears ring. Everything is quiet, except for some mechanical sounds the structures make, not really meant to support their own weight in this new form.

Then, she hears laughter.

A girl with hair so long she's not sure where it ends is frantically pacing around the roof, her body movements jittery and odd. As the camera of the heroine's yo-yo focuses on the akuma, helping seek out where the cursed butterfly is hiding, Ladybug realizes the dress this girl is wearing is not grey.

It's is covered in trillions of colourful tiny dots of different shapes and sizes. They seem jittery too, as if trying to move, but some force is making them stay together. This feels like standing up after lying down for too long. Looking at the pattern for too long makes her head hurt

Ladybug continues hiding. She takes her time looking for clues. At this point she's not really sure if the girl is actually laughing or this is a weird hysterical cry. Sometimes the akuma starts muttering under her nose, too quiet to make out most of the words. Ladybug is pretty sure she heard the girl say "I can fix this" a few times though. She shifts to hear the words better.

The akuma turns around

This is the hardest she's ever fought. Chat Blanc feels like child's play now.

While the villain almost looks out of breath, long hair going everywhere, Ladybug is still barely able to keep up.

The air is too dense with oxygen.

The girl has a yo-yo as a weapon, in a cruel twist of irony. And she's damn good with it. Yet, she clearly hesitates in using the thing, saving it as a last resort to escape.

Ladybug tries to reason with the akumatized victim.

- Wait! Please, let me help you!

- You don't understand, - the girl looks around frantically, - I have to fix this! I need to fix this!

Villain's grey yo-yo starts to glow white and she throws it at a fire hydrant, making it grow another one on top.

The akuma was inside the earring. Ladybug was hit by the yo-yo. She doesn't have the time to think as she casts Miraculous cure, just before her brain registered the pain fully.

She'll remember the way it looked when she closes her eyes though.

The streets go back to normal. Her body is normal. Ladybug turns around and meets the eyes of

herself

Marinette sits on the ground, horrified. But before Ladybug can talk to her Bunnix appears and she has to go.

Bunnix doesn't say anything as they walk through the burrow, but she's pretty sure the older heroine is holding her shoulder softer than ever before.

They didn't change anything. They didn't fix anything after they came back, no scoldings, no erasing her name from anywhere, nothing. Marinette is growing more paranoid at every turn, expecting to get akumatized. Her conflict avoidance is at all times high. She's withdrawing from her friends.

Nobody is near when Hawkmoth himself shows up in the middle of the night and she has to transform. He senses her distress immediately.

This is just too easy.

The butterfly lands in her earring just as she started to call for a last effort Lucky Charm.

"Creatomachia, this is Hawkmoth. You are overwhelmed with every problem creating a million smaller ones. Things seem to stack on top of each other and just never end. I'll give you the power to fix everything. In return, you will give me your and Chat Noir's miraculous."

For a split second, everything is white.

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80pairsofcrocs · 10 days ago

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baby scarab || 68

A/N - so we are traveling the multiverse...

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : i dont deserve you guys omg, i have missed you all so so much <3

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, casper hart(OC) x reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, multiverse nonsense, nothing makes sense, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

You stand there, feeling the weight of the revelation pressing down on your chest like a leaden anchor. The flickering torches in the temple cast shadows that dance ominously on the walls, echoing your tumultuous thoughts. Khonshu's intense gaze feels almost judgmental, stirring the pot of your frustration further.

Taweret attempts to soothe the growing storm within you, but it’s like trying to calm a tempest with a whisper. You can’t shake the idea from your mind—that maybe, just maybe, you were the reason for their sudden departure.

“Perhaps you should consider the circumstances,” Khonshu interjects, his voice deep and resonant, but this only amplifies your resentment. “Marc is caught in a cycle he cannot control. He fears for your safety.”

Your heart aches at the mention of your dad, the man who fought every monster and shadow for your sake. But this very fight had carved lines of darkness into his spirit, and it’s painful to comprehend that your absence may have been the tipping point. Suddenly, anxiety surges, and you feel a tightening in your throat. “But I’m here! I could’ve helped! I could’ve been there for him!”

Taweret’s eyes soften, and for a moment, the ancient deity feels like the most compassionate of friends rather than a divine entity. “Your love is powerful, dear child. But know that sometimes, those we love carry burdens we cannot lift for them.” Her words settle over you, both comforting and challenging, a reminder that there are things even hugs and reassurances cannot mend.

In that moment, you resolve to take action—not out of anger, but out of a desire to bridge the gap.

“I need to talk to them,” you declare, your voice steadier than you feel. “I’ll figure out a way to reach them in America, to remind them they are not alone.” As you turn to Khonshu and Taweret, determination ignites a new fire in your chest. “They may need help, but so do I. If they can leave, then I can go to them.”

The ancient gods exchange glances, and for an instant, you see admiration flickering in Khonshu’s steadfast eyes, while Taweret nods earnestly. Maybe, just maybe, you have inherited more than the resilience of a warrior.

You have inherited the strength to face the unknown, to connect the strings of love that bind your fractured family, and to affirm what you know deep down: love, even amid chaos, endures.

~~~

As Marc and Layla continued to navigate the strange streets of Chicago, an unsettling chill settled in the air, creeping beneath their skin. Shadows stretched and contorted against the fading sunlight, creating a canvas of anxiety that whispered of something ominous lurking just out of sight.

With every step, Marc felt the ripples of his own doubts and fears pooling in his chest—fears that had crept up on him since they'd crossed into this unfamiliar dimension. He glanced at Layla, and the concern etched across her features ignited a spark within him—the need to protect her—yet he was plagued by uncertainty. “What if we don’t find our way back?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

When they reached a small park blanketed in fallen leaves, the atmosphere shifted. The silence was suffocating as if the world had held its breath. Layla’s grip tightened around Marc’s hand, the warmth of her presence a fragile tether to reality.

“Something is definitely wrong,” she reiterated, her voice low and urgent. “I can feel it.” With a sudden resolve, she turned to face him, her eyes aflame with determination. “We need to get to the bottom of this. If Taweret isn’t responding, there’s a chance the balance is utterly thrown off. We can’t stay idle. What if this is connected to y/n?”

Marc swallowed hard, the pang of his daughter’s name igniting fresh worry within him. “You know, I tried to reach her too—with no success.” He looked down the dimming path, frustration churning in his gut.

“Do you think… could something have happened to her? To us? What if our absence has left something open, something we can’t see?” He felt a deep unease settling in, rooted in the idea that their family—his family—was teetering on the edge without them, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out.

Just as the thoughts darkened, a flicker of movement caught Marc’s eye—a figure darting behind a tree, obscured by the evening haze. Heart racing, he pointed it out to Layla. “Did you see that?” The air felt electric, charged with an anticipatory energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He took a cautious step forward, trying to distinguish friend from foe, but before he could act, a low, guttural growl reverberated through the quiet, wrapping around them like a noose. The shadows deepened as if mocking their cautious exploration, and Marc was suddenly struck by an overwhelming certainty: they were not alone.

In that moment, he understood the truth of their predicament. This wasn’t just a wrong turn or a simple dimensional hiccup. Something sinister awaited them, a force that sensed their vulnerability. Whatever had drawn them into this realm had its very own agenda, and with every tick of the clock, Marc felt an impending disaster lurking just beyond the fading light—a disaster that could tear his family apart for good.

Desperation surged through him; he needed to act swiftly. And with that realization, something primal awakened within him—a determination to fight, not just for their return, but for every second they might lose if they didn’t escape the shadows looming closer with every passing breath.

“Is that…?” Layla asks, holding Marc’s hand a little tighter.

“It can’t be…”

It was him.

Arthur Harrow… but he wasn’t alone.

You were with him.

“You’re not our y/n… you can’t be—where are we?!” Marc demands to know, stepping in front of Layla protectively. His heart races as the weight of two worlds collides, an unsettling blend of familiarity and disarray swirling around them.

The distorted lighting of the dimly lit alley distorted the figures before them, casting eerie shadows that danced against the cracked brick walls like specters of the past.

A smirk curls on Harrow’s lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of triumph and pity. “Ah, Marc, dear boy. You don’t recognize your own memories? This is a realm woven from the threads of what could have been—a universe where Y/N chose a different path.” He gestures toward you, and for the first time, the sight of you sends a shiver down Marc's spine.

The way you stand beside Harrow, seemingly at ease, ignites a flicker of doubt. Had you truly turned against them, or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface, a manipulation lurking just out of sight?

“Y/N…no,” Layla whispers, her voice trembling with disbelief as she studies your expression, desperately searching for the essence of the person they had loved and relied on. But the aura radiating from you and Harrow felt foreign, and yet unnervingly familiar. “What have you done?” Her gaze flickers to Harrow, her mind racing to the implications of this twisted reality.

The air thickens, heavy with an unspoken challenge as you step forward, your eyes glinting with a strange resolve that neither Marc nor Layla had ever witnessed. “This is not about what I’ve done,” you assert, each word deliberate as if unveiling a hidden truth. “This is about what you both failed to see—the potential of embracing darkness to create light.”

Marc takes a step back, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through him. Letting go of Layla’s hand feels unthinkable, yet the pull of your magnetic presence is both unsettling and irresistible. What you appear to offer—the chance to rewrite fate—thrums in the depths of his mind. Time slows as he balances between the echoes of shared laughter and the specters of past choices—a disparate motif drumming a chaos only he seems to feel.

In that moment, reality feels as if it's splitting at the seams, inviting them to ponder a question that they could have never prepared for: Was the path to salvation more than just battles fought in the shadows, and was it perhaps hidden in the embrace of the very darkness they fought against?

~~~

Meanwhile as you had gone and asked for help, reaching out to Peter with the situation, telling you he knew a guy, you found yourself standing nervously in front of the London sanctum. Peter had assured you he could assist, emphasizing the importance of not messing up the mysterious ritual.

Gently, you knocked on the imposing giant doors, watching in awe as they opened slowly on their own, almost beckoning you inside. Taking a cautious look around, you entered the building at a deliberate pace, the doors closing with a resounding thud behind you. As your eyes wandered around the grand interior, a man clad in a blue suit and a striking red cape floated gracefully down the staircase.

"Y/n y/l/n, I anticipated your arrival," he addressed you, standing a few feet away. Anxious to get answers, you anxiously started, "So... you can help me? Where are my parents?" The man raised a hand to signal for quiet, interrupting your inquiry.

"First, there's something you must understand – your parents are not within this realm," he disclosed cryptically. Stunned, you stammered, "What? No greeting, no introduction?" Irritated, he rolled his eyes before speaking with a touch of sarcasm, "Stephen Strange. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

“Yeah okay- obviously you know who I am already, so just tell me how I can bring them back,” you demand, the urgency evident in your voice as you take another determined step closer.

“It’s not that simple. Without knowing where exactly they are, we won’t know where to go,” Stephen explains, his tone tinged with a mixture of compassion and practicality.

“Then find out!” Your impatience boils over, the desperation to reunite with your missing parents fueling your outburst. “They are my parents- I need them back!”

Stephen sighs, a shared sense of understanding passing between you both. “I empathize with your situation but it’s just not that simple. After I open the portal, you’ll need to navigate through the unknown to locate the universe they inhabit and then safely return here.”

You shift your weight impatiently, resolve shining in your eyes as you respond without hesitation, “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring them back.”

Stephen arches an eyebrow, recognizing the unwavering determination in your gaze. Leading you towards a separate chamber, he prepares you for the challenges ahead. “It won’t be an easy journey. There will be sights that may haunt you. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I've already witnessed my biological father rising from the dead; I believe I can handle whatever lies ahead,” you assure him confidently, the memory of that astonishing event reinforcing your brave front.

Nodding at your resolve, Stephen gestures grandly, conjuring a mesmerizing display of orange and yellow sparks that converge to form a shimmering portal. As the portal expands to human-sized proportions, he steps back, the preparation complete.

Handing you a sleek triangular device, he cautions, “After you locate your parents, ensure that all of you touch this device and press the button simultaneously. It will transport you back through the portal to safety here.”

Gratefully accepting the device, you secure it in your jacket pocket, the weight of the mission ahead settling on your shoulders. “Thank you,” you express sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Stephen replies casually, motioning towards the now-glowing portal. “Good luck on your interdimensional journey, arachnid.”

Stepping resolutely into the portal, you pause, surprised by the revelation of your alter ego that Stephen casually drops. “Um, thanks for the support.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, you take the final step into the unknown, ready to traverse the intricate web of the multiverse in pursuit of your beloved parents.

~~~

Back with Marc and Layla, the tension in the room thickened as Steven and Jake continued to remain mysteriously absent, granting Marc full dominion over the body. This newfound authority weighed heavily on Marc, visible in the way his shoulders tensed and his every movement exuded uncertainty.

The second y/n, her laughter ringing ominously through the air, moved closer towards the bewildered couple. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she taunted Marc Spector, a name from a past that now seemed distant and yet hauntingly familiar. "I never thought I'd witness that look of disbelief on your face again, Marc Spector. Not since the day I extinguished your life," she chuckled darkly, twirling a dagger nonchalantly in her hand.

The widening eyes of Marc and Layla betrayed their escalating horror as the truth unfolded before them. "You... we... we're deceased in this realm? You ended my life?!" Marc's voice quivered with a blend of fear and disbelief, his world shattering into a million fractured pieces.

"It was a simple feat. You were so naïve, so easily deceived. Even Steven and Jake fell into my trap without a hint of suspicion," the mysterious figure, now identified as Harrow, reassured with a cold grip on the other y/n's shoulder. "Now, Khonshu and the others bow to my will - a reality beyond your grasp." Her laughter, tinged with madness, echoed hauntingly in the confined space, sending shivers down Layla's spine.

Layla, her voice laced with urgency and desperation, stepped forward in a bid to plead for reason. "Please, think about this. We are not meant to linger here. Allow us the chance to find our way back to where we belong."

Dismissing Layla's plea with a disdainful scoff, the other y/n's gaze darkened with a resolute finality. "This is not a dilemma we concern ourselves with. This time, the veil between life and death shall not be breached again," she stated coldly, her eyes narrowing as Harrow silently signaled permission for a potentially fatal encounter.

The impending danger loomed menacingly as Harrow's chilling smile and the ominous words she imparted to the other y/n set the stage for a confrontation that could tilt the scales of fate irreversibly. "Show them no mercy," instructed Harrow, the weight of her authority palpable in those words.

The other y/n, bearing the weight of a deeply woven past and an uncertain future, responded to Harrow's command with a stoic assurance. "As you wish, father," she affirmed, her resolve unwavering as she prepared to execute a fate that could seal the doomed couple's existence in the enigmatic realm they were trapped in.

~~~

You blink a few times as you enter the new world, the unfamiliar surroundings painting a scene of wonder and intrigue before you.

Looking around the building you’re in, your eyes linger on the intricate design of the architecture, the way the light filters in from the skylights above casting patterns on the floor beneath your feet. Your breath catches at the grandeur of it all, a whispered "woah" escaping your lips as you try to take it all in.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, your senses are overloaded with the sights and sounds of this strange place. A low hum fills the air as a floating platform descends gracefully from the tall opening in the ceiling, the soft glow of its runes illuminating the space around you. On the platform, you spot a man standing tall, his expression a mix of curiosity and bemusement as he gazes down at you.

Beside him stands another figure, much smaller in stature but no less intriguing, their eyes fixed on you with a mixture of wariness and fascination. As you stand there, the weight of the unknown pressing in around you, you can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mingled with trepidation.

"Dad..? Is that you?" you called out eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation as the platform steadily approached. Drawing nearer, a mixture of hope and doubt churned within you, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

However, as the figure on the approaching platform became clearer, revealing features that bore no resemblance to your father, a wave of disappointment washed over you.

"Do I look like your dad?" he asks sarcastically, a playful glint in his eye, as you shake your head in response. Meanwhile, the tiny floating woman, with her ethereal presence, seems to defy the laws of physics by almost teleporting right into your face. Startled, you take a step back, a mix of surprise and intrigue dancing in your eyes.

"Aww! Look how cute she is!" the tiny woman exclaims, her voice overflowing with a sense of wonder and delight. As she gushes over your mystical visitor, golden sparks of pure magic emanate from her essence, casting a mesmerizing glow around her petite form.

"Uh.. weird question-“ you start to ask tentatively, your words trailing off as the weight of the larger man's presence fills the small space around you. His stern demand to "Zip it" echoes in the cramped room, silencing any further inquiries for the moment. As you gather your thoughts under the intensity of his gaze, you can't help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your gut.

"How’d you find this place?” The larger man steps off the platform, stopping maybe a foot away from you, his navy and red suits boots creaking slightly under his weight as he gazes down at you with a discerning look etched across his weathered face.

As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a sense of urgency tugged at your heartstrings. "I'm just looking for my dad, man," you uttered softly, the words hanging heavy in the air.

"Did Peter B recruit you?” He asks, his voice laced with an undertone of suspicion as he eyed you intently, searching for any subtle signs of betrayal in your expression.

"Who?" you ask innocently, feigning ignorance to mask the rapid beating of your heart that threatened to give away your ruse.

The man’s body tenses almost imperceptibly at your response, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before the smooth mask of his suit shifts in a mechanical motion to cover his face. The sudden movement sends a shiver down your spine, a silent warning that you were playing a dangerous game with dangerous people.

"Whoa, dude, can you please calm down? I assure you, I have no intention of causing any harm." Your voice wavers slightly as you instinctively raise your hands up as a gesture of surrender before the intense situation.

Observing your reaction, he tilts his head in curiosity, taking a step closer, while the small floating woman, who seems to possess a wisdom beyond her appearance, chooses this moment to interject. "Miguel, come on, ease up a bit. Can't you see that shes, like, a child? There's no need for the gwumpy face,” she remarks, crossing her arms in a display of playfully authoritative posture.

As you press the intricate button on your ring with a sense of familiarity, you feel a rush of anticipation building up within you. The signal triggers a swift and elegant transformation process, like a metallic dance enveloping your body.

The special material of your spider suit elegantly molds itself around you, its unique design serving both form and function. Ensuring every crevice fits snugly and each joint moves with precision, you witness the suit's shimmering surface gleaming in the dim light.

In response to your transformation, the man known only as Miguel reacts with a subtle yet noticeable gesture, raising an eyebrow beneath the mysterious cover of his mask. Slowly, deliberately, he strides toward you with an air of confidence, his movements calculated and purposeful. The space between you diminishes until you can feel the solid wall pressing against your back, a physical barrier raising your awareness.

“Tell me how you found us,” he orders, his tone firm and commanding. “Now,” he demands, his eyes piercing and unwavering.

"Listen, Miguel," you begin nervously, your voice quivering slightly. "I'm just trying to find my dad," you explain, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone.

“Well, he’s not here,” Miguel interrupts abruptly, his expression hardened, leaving no room for negotiation.

As you process his words, a flood of emotions washes over you. Disappointment, frustration, and a lingering sense of determination swirl within you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.

"Then I'll be on my way," you assert calmly, despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

"You know where the spider society is, I'm afraid you can't leave just yet,” he says sternly as his mask slides back into place, hiding the intensity of his gaze. He watches you intently, unyielding in his stance.

You begin to assure him, “I'm not going to tell anyone about this, I promise—" but he cuts you off, his voice unwavering, “We can't trust that—trust you to keep this secret safe.”

"Just let her go, Miguel," the small woman interrupted, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency as she hovered by Miguel's shoulder. Your exasperated sigh filled the tense air, a subtle indicator of your frustration in the face of this unexpected encounter.

"I'm not from this universe; I'm simply navigating my way back to my parents," you explained, your tone pleading for understanding.

Miguel's focused gaze remains fixed on you as he calmly reaches out to operate a button situated on his sleek desk, instantly deactivating the petite woman standing nearby with a swift motion. His mask smoothly slides back into place, concealing any hint of emotion on his stoic face.

Within the blink of an eye, he lunges aggressively towards you, his hands grabbing your shoulders with a forceful grip before deftly spinning you around and forcefully pressing your back against the cold, forbidding wall.

Reacting swiftly and instinctively, you adeptly duck and drop to the ground, maneuvering out of his grasp just in time to evade the sharp, menacing claws that scrape menacingly against the protective metal surface of your suit.

With skilled agility, you roll skillfully out from under his towering figure as he whirls around in search of apprehending you again, his intent clear in his predatory movements, poised for another attempt to capture you. In your hands, you deftly produce the invaluable portal device, a powerful tool that may be your key to escape or turn the tables in this tense confrontation.

Miguel's swift and aggressive move caught you off guard as he tackled you to the floor, causing your grip to loosen and the device slipped out of your hand, falling with a clatter. Your immediate protest was cut short by his forceful action as he hoisted you up by your arm, his grip a vice as he pushed you back against the unyielding wall.

The word "stay" was a command that brooked no defiance, echoing with a threatening undertone that sent shivers down your spine.

As Miguel turned away, a surge of adrenaline propelled you into action, your instincts screaming at you to seize the opportunity to escape. You slipped away noiselessly, stealthily retrieving the precious device, your fingers trembling slightly with a mix of fear and determination. The button under your touch felt both familiar and alien, a key to another reality beckoning with unknown possibilities.

With a quick press, the device came to life, emitting a soft hum that seemed to vibrate in tune with the escalating beating of your heart. The split-second decision had been made, and as the world around you shimmered and twisted, Miguel's approaching footsteps were the last evidence of the reality you left behind.

One universe down.. many more to go.

~~~

In the alternate reality, where the version of 'you' present had decidedly not shown mercy towards Marc and Layla, an intense confrontation unfolded. Jake found himself in a pressing situation where he had to take command of the shared body to thwart the aggressive actions of the other 'you' without causing significant harm.

This pivotal event took place just a mere hour in the past, yet its repercussions and the adrenaline of the moment still lingered in the cramped surroundings of their hideout.

Currently seeking refuge inside a nondescript gas station, Jake and Layla tried to find a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. The air was heavy with tension as they sipped on the subpar coffee available at the establishment, the bitter liquid providing a stark contrast to the bitter circumstances surrounding them.

Despite the apparent calmness that now enveloped the space they were in, both Layla and Jake knew that danger still lurked just beyond the walls of their temporary sanctuary. Each sip of coffee served as a bitter reminder of the harrowing events that had transpired, emphasizing the need for them to remain vigilant and stay on guard.

Jake's frantic pacing came to a halt as he voiced his inner turmoil, feeling the weight of responsibility for Y/N's safety pressing down on him. "What do we do?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. The thought of leaving Y/N alone in an unknown place gnawed at his conscience, clouding his mind with worry.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Jake's nerves became apparent through his restless rambling, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. Layla, recognizing the unease plaguing Jake, reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. Her touch, warm and reassuring, offered a sense of solace amidst the chaos that swirled around them.

“We can't just leave Y/N behind. How are we going to make it back?” Jake's words revealed the depth of his concern, his eyes darting around in search of a solution to their predicament. The uncertainty of their situation loomed large, casting a shadow over their plans and testing their resolve.

Layla's soothing response broke through the fog of doubt that clouded Jake's mind, her voice calm and steady as she assured him, “We'll find a way back, and I'm certain that Y/N is capable enough to handle whatever comes her way. She's a strong, capable young woman, and we have to trust in her strength."

Jake, feeling a surge of gratitude for Layla's unwavering support, let her words wash over him, a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. The weight of responsibility began to lift slightly from his shoulders as he absorbed her calm reassurances, a glimmer of optimism shining through the darkness of doubt.

“I know. you're.. right,” Jake acknowledged, his voice softer now, tinged with a sense of relief. Running a hand wearily down his face, he exhaled heavily, a semblance of peace settling upon him. In Layla's presence, he found a sense of clarity and comfort, her unwavering belief in their ability to overcome obstacles serving as a guiding light in their journey back to safety.

Layla let out a gentle sigh, her brows furrowed with genuine concern as she inquired, "And how about the others? Are they doing alright?" Her voice held a note of apprehension, betraying her worry for the well-being of their companions.

Jake gave a slight nod, his expression grave yet reassuring. "They seem to have settled down for now. It might be best if they stay put for a while," he remarked, his hand mimicking a tear sliding down his cheek as he referenced Steven without directly naming him. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, palpable in his somber demeanor.

In response, Layla let out a soft chuckle, her laughter mingling with a hint of fond exasperation. "Don't be too hard on him," she chided gently, her words laced with empathy.

"It's perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed and show emotion in times like these-“ Her gaze softened as she defended Steven, a touch of understanding in her voice that spoke volumes about her compassionate nature towards their friend's vulnerability.

"He cries at movies," Jake cuts her off with a chuckle, his eyes glistening as he recalls the emotional scenes that always tug at his heartstrings.

"So do I," Layla replies, her voice warm and understanding, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She mirrors Jake's gestures, placing her hands on her hips in solidarity.

Jake, ever the skeptic, rolls his eyes at Layla's response, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he dismisses her comments. Their banter is light-hearted and filled with shared moments of teasing and laughter.

"We’ll be okay," she assures him with a gentle smile, her expression filled with a comforting warmth that enveloped them both. Her eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, sending a silent reassurance to Jake. It was a small gesture, but it carried a weight of sincerity that eased the tension in the air.

Jake, catching her gaze, felt a sense of calm wash over him. He recognized the unspoken promise in her eyes, a promise of unwavering support and solidarity. Somehow, her simple words held a profound significance, grounding him amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

With a subtle nod, Jake acknowledged her words, his own silent agreement reflecting in his eyes. It was a mutual understanding that transcended spoken language, a shared belief in their ability to weather whatever challenges lay ahead.

In that fleeting moment of connection, they found solace in each other's presence, drawing strength from the unspoken bond between them. It was a poignant reminder of the power of human connection, of the comfort that can be found in a shared smile and a knowing look.

And as they faced the unknown future together, they held onto that shared assurance, a simple yet profound declaration that echoed in their hearts: "We’ll be okay."

~~~

A/N - OOPS CLIFFHANGER!!!!! next part out hopefully by NOVEMBER 25th!!! i love you all so much, i cant wait to see feedback on the new writing style and about the story :)

~~~

taglist -

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @valiantphantomangel @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28 @nevaeh-jasso @lizlil @scarabgrant @luvxxee @certainchildmentality @yikesitskennawrites @alexisabirdie @zlatolait-writes @thursdaywritings @izzzzy-the-amazing @angrykitsune01 @kult6 @deadthings-pdf @0scars1saac @jones89 @idontknowicomefromtwitter @yeetskeeter @romanoffsurvives52

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jam-showtoonz · 5 months ago

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Another AU? (Jack’o Moon!/Hallow!!)

⚠️TW⚠️- Abuse, Guilt Tripping, (there are possibly others- be warned!!)

(Not finished btw- but I wanted to show it before I forgot to-)

This au is kinda dark-

Info on AU/ Story(?):-

In this au Ruin never showed up and the Bloodmoon Twins are never remade- (this also means Solars dimension doesn’t collapse and he doesn’t die)

The StitchWraith and Creator are still around-

The Creator is after Lunar because of them having Star Power. Moon decides to ask Solar to make a bodyguard for Lunar- aka Jack- to keep them and others safe. Half way through Jacks creation Earth goes missing and a virus starts going around- the effects unknown at the time.

Upon Earths disappearance- Moon starts getting more violent and rude, Lunar starts being irrational and violent- often lashing out at anyone even close to him (this includes Castor and Pollux) and Sun goes completely mute and begins distancing himself from others (he still works normally around the kids- he just doesn’t talk). Solar acts relatively the same as normal- a bit more anxious due to Moon and Lunars sudden personality shift- he always tried to reassure them that Earth is- hopefully- fine and that they’ll find her.

Monty also starts acting irrational and even goes after StitchWraith believing they took Earth. This quickly proves to not be the case and turns out StitchWraith is also looking for their sister-

Puppet and Foxy end up watching over and trying to help Monty as best they can. Worried they may go the same way as Moon and Lunar if they don’t.

Once Jack was finished Moon immediately sent them to Lunar before Jack could even meet their creator. As a result Jack has no idea who Solar is other than Moons friend. Things quickly go south from there- Lunar lashes out at Jack for every mistake they make and even blames them for Earths disappearance at times. These lash outs often get physical and led to Jack getting damaged.

Moon also takes his anger out on Jack- especially if Jack messes up- the main ‘punishments’ being- powered off (without consent/suddenly), taking out or breaking Jacks eyes/eye, breaking off limbs, and hitting with a wrench or hammer- Lunar uses similar punishments, along with throwing Jack against walls, shocking, and locking him in dark closets. Jack has a fear of small and dark places because of this.

Castor and Pollux both try and talk to Lunar about what he’s doing but it ends up leading to a fight- Castor and Pollux leave after it very angry and Lunar blames Jack for it happening. Jack truly believes it’s his fault.

Moon and Lunars actions do not go unnoticed- Solar, Puppet, Foxy and Sun all acknowledge what they are doing and try to keep Jack away from them, with great struggle. Moon doesn’t let Solar anywhere near Jack because ‘Jack isn’t important- there are better things to worry about.’

Lunar and Moon also try to keep Puppet and Foxy away- they only succeed to do so with Foxy because they were still helping Monty- Puppet on they other hand often manages to get to Jack (if for a short period of time) and does their best to fix and take care of him.

Sun has the most success with getting Jack away from them as Moon and Lunar will leave Jack with him if he ‘asks’. He often lets Puppet take them after so Jack can get out of the PizzaPlex and explore (on the times Puppet doesn’t take them he and Jack play video games together) Moon and Lunar think Puppet is taking Jack from Sun when this happens-

With how often Jack gets damaged (broken) Moon resorts to fixing them with duck tape so ‘they aren’t wasting time fixing him’, Lunar also does this- to the point Jack believes duck tape is how you fix every injury. The duck tape does work- it’s mostly used to keep Jacks arms and/or legs from falling off. If they keep falling off despite the duck tape then that’s when Moon properly fixes the issue- whilst complaining to Jack how he’s wasting his time and that they are selfish for doing so- Jack feels extremely guilty when they get repaired.

Solar ends up leaving at some point- he wanted to take Jack and Sun with him because Moon and Lunar were getting worse, and despite their attempts to help them nothing is working. Unfortunately he can’t even get close to Jack which leaves only Sun-

Sun refused however because he wanted to try and protect Jack the best he could, as well as try and fix his brothers, he did promise that once he could get Jack out and away from his brothers he will find Solar.

About 3 weeks after Solar leaves an Eclipse appears outside Suns door from no where- Sun in a panic grabs Eclipse and pulls him inside his room before Moon or Lunar can see him- which confuses Eclipse beyond belief. After Sun rather quickly signs to Moon that nothing was wrong and that he was just startled by Moons sudden appearance Sun attempts to ‘explain’ what was going on to Eclipse- which doesn’t work well because Eclipse doesn’t know sign language.

Sun ends up calling Puppet who shows up immediately upon hearing Eclipse is back. Puppet explains everything to Eclipse who gets more confused when he hears what Lunar and Moon have been doing, so much so he literally doesn’t even believe it. Puppet ends up taking Eclipse back with him so Moon and Lunar don’t find him.

Eclipse- originally planning to screw with Sun and Moon upon his return (which he doesn’t even know how he’s alive)- decides that he’d rather just leave because clearly someone did his job for him, Puppet doesn’t allow him to though, so Eclipse gets stuck with Puppet, Foxy and Monty (who is doing better at this point).

Puppet- who now has a plan on how to get Jack out- makes a deal with Eclipse. They will let Eclipse leave so long as they take and look after Jack. Eclipse declines the deal- not wanting to look after some kid- until he meets Jack.

It was complete random chance as Puppet had ended up bringing Jack to Foxy’s house because of just how badly Jack had been broken. Eclipse had been told to watch the kid because Puppet needed to grab some stuff and Foxy and Monty were out.

Jack, sat holding a plushie Puppet had given them to distract them, smiled like they weren’t missing a leg and their eye wasn’t broken and had oil leaking from it. Eclipse couldn’t help but stared at Jack- questioning what had happened and who could do something like this- his question was quickly answered the minute he asked Jack-

Who continued to smile whilst stating- ‘Moon was mad because I knocked over some board game boxes! I did not mean to!’

Puppet arrived back during this explanation and quickly got to work fixing what they could. Which was mostly just the leg. They’d have to got to parts & service to fix the faceplate and eye- which would be impossible due to Moon.

Eventually Puppet had to send Jack back- they turned to Eclipse afterwards. Eclipse immediately raised their hand to Puppet and simply said ‘deal’.

Puppet promptly got to work on their plan.

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aprocessionofthoughts · 1 year ago

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To succeed is to fail

whumptober2023 day 9- mistaken identity fandom- Danny phantom x Batman TW- nothing summary- The Amity Parkers have the opportunity (they didn't want) to explore Gotham. It's just too bad that Danny looks a lot like adoption bait.

First of all, I’d like to state that I know this is whumptober. But the story disagreed. So now we have whumpcracktober.

ao3 masterlist part 1 of APVG

They were not supposed to be here. They didn't want to be here. They hadn’t even tried to be here. Yet luck had never been on the Amity Parker’s side before, and they should have realized this would be no different.

It was their senior year and things around Amity had calmed down. Or at least everyone was used to Amity’s special brand of crazy.

He had told his parents about Phantom and they had helped hunt down the GIW. Most of Amity was discovered to be liminal and most of the young people had developed some basic abilities.

And then Mrs. Abernagaby decided that their science final would be a group project. This wasn’t anything new. Every year Casper participated in the Helping Intelligent Minds Be Outstanding competition–better known as the HIMBO competition.

And usually the smartest seniors would be picked to work on a group project to submit. Casper High had never won. So, this year Mrs. Abrnagaby decided that all the seniors could work on it together. Because more heads were better than one!

Obviously she didn’t remember what being part of a group project felt like. And she obviously didn't account for the fact that no one would care.

They weren’t even told what the award was since it varied year to year and was meant to be a surprise.

All they were told was that they had to design a new air filtration system.

So, being seniors who had survived ghost attacks, invasions, their town being pulled into another dimension, dealing with the GIW, and making it through adjusting to Amity shifting to the stranger side as everyone's liminality began to show, they did not try.

Which was how they ended up with this masterpiece.

The challenge was to design a new air filtrator. Which if they had wanted to, would have been easy since air filters that would reduce the amount of ectoplasm in the air had been designed before the residents realized it was too late to do any good, and so they had never been made.

They didn’t even submit a design; it was a paper mache volcano covered in everyone’s failed tests. The accompanying research paper they were supposed to submit had Dash’s and Paulina’s self-insert fanfics with– you guessed it– phantom as the love interest. Danny had tried to make them remove it since it was awkward now that they knew who he was, but they had claimed they wrote it before they knew. Danny knew this was a lie because they were lying liars who lied.

The paper also included one of Sam’s activist papers, Wes’s conspiracies about Bruce Wayne being Batman’s sugar daddy (now that everyone knew Danny was Phantom Wes didn’t feel the need to include that research (he also believed that Batman was Bruce Wayne but didn’t want to antagonize the furry who could ruin his life)).

Tucker had included evidence of a Pentagon hack he had done a few years ago, Mikey had drawn some incredible fanart about Green Lantern (he said this would have the greatest effect on Gothamites and Wes agreed saying Batman didn’t like Green Lantern. How he knew this, no one asked.).

And lastly, they attached a file of them doing the Harlem Shake.

Mrs. Abernagaby hadn’t even looked at it before sending it off.

And then of course they had won. And what a grand prize it was! They won a trip to Gotham to explore the various big businesses, as well as a chance to apply at those locations for internships. Yeah… Sam had found out all the other schools had dropped out after finding out the prize. No one wanted to go to Gotham. But the school said it was a learning opportunity! To see what it was like outside Amity! To see what normal was supposed to be like!

So, they were forced to go, but at least they got Mr. Lancer as their supervisor and they wouldn’t even have to take a long bus ride because Amity was friends with Gotham. Apparently there weren’t very many Living Cities and the two liked to talk. They also thought it would be hilarious if the Amity Parkers went to Gotham. So, Amity had temporarily turned the road that left the city into a portal that led to Gotham’s border, and at the end of the week Gotham would return them.

And that was how he had ended up here. In the back of a smelly van with a smelly bag over his head surrounded by smelly men probably heading to a smelly, sketchy location. All because these men were stupid and thought he was some Wayne kid.

Sure, he could have gotten out. But this was honestly more interesting than touring another boring building and having to almost get mugged again.

..........

AN-I plan to continue this but it probably won’t be until after October because I want to focus on completing the challenges I'm participating in.

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober #no.9 #mistaken identity #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #batman #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #humor #no angst #I know this was supposed to be whumptober #but the story disagreed #what was I supposed to do #aren't we supposed to support our children's decision #I was being a supportive story writer

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safety-writes-noms · 8 months ago

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Blank Eyes

Summary; Miguel and you are separated after a mission gone wrong. You go looking for him… only to find him in an odd state.

This is a short story with vore in it!! It is sfw and nonsexual so if you don’t like that, don’t read!

Tw; there’s some fear play in this one but still all safe. There’s also some descriptions of blood and violence :D

—

The first thing you register is the crushing pressure over your chest, Your head is spinning and aching with a fury, sharp pain lancing down your side every time you try to breathe. Your hands scrabble at the hard edge of the thing holding you down, finding purchase and pushing.

Your arms tremble and your palms are tacky with blood – but you manage to shift the massive slab of concrete off of your body, and roll out from under. The second you let go, the thing crashes into the ground with a massive plume of dust.

For a moment, you have no idea where you are and how you got here before your memory revives itself with a sickening flash. The mission. The explosion. The shadow falling over you as debris rained down from above, the sickening jolt of pain – then darkness.

Your ribs have to be at least fractured judging by the ache nestled in your chest, you definitely have a bad sprain in your left ankle, and overall, you feel like all of your body is just one massive bruise. Everything hurts like hell, and you take a second to catch your breath and prepare yourself.

“Okay – okay, come on,” You mutter, taking a fortifying breath, “You’ve got this – you totally got this.”

You delicately push yourself upwards, ignoring the concerning tightness in your chest accompanied by aching agony, struggling to your feet with difficulty. Your ribs practically sear with pain at the movement and you pray that they're not broken.

You check your wrist, wincing at the cracked watch strapped over it — when you try to turn it on, it fizzles pathetically before the screen goes dark with only occasional glitches of light. Still, you should at least try to get a message out.

“Hello? Uh. Can anyone hear me?” You ask, fiddling with the dial on the side of the watch as you try to get out a signal. The dial promptly pops off the damn watch and clicks as it bounces on concrete, disappearing into the debris coating the ground. You gape in disbelief. Miguel is totally going to give you shit for that.

Miguel.

He was closer to the explosion — there’s no way he didn’t get buried under the rubble too or at least somewhat injured. Something cold and frigid burns into your organs and you look around, searching for a glimmer of neon red or dark blue. It’s too dark in the partially crumbled parking lot to see much. It’s massive, compared to you and you silently curse this dimension’s — well, dimensions. It just had to be one of those giant ones, didn’t it?

Either way, you decide to look at the bright side: You’re not dead (yet). Hooray! And Miguel is too stubborn to die too, you reassure yourself. There’s no way he’d kick the bucket from a measly bomb.

You limp along, carefully stepping around bits of debris and rubble littering the floor, waving away the thick dust permeating the air. You’re thankful that this area is abandoned — you don’t need civvies to make things harder.

“Miguel? Boss? You there?” You call out, cupping a hand to your mouth. No answer. You frown. He has to be here somewhere. You duck around humongous support pillars holding up what’s left of the second, third, and other floors up above. There isn’t much, but there’s still some.

You scout out the bottom floor, finding nothing but more cracked infrastructure. It takes you a while with your injured ankle and throbbing abdomen, but you manage it, coming up disappointingly fruitless. How does one lose a 6’9 man with shoulders the length of a football field? Easily, you find out with annoyance.

He’s wearing a neon suit brighter than Las Vegas. It really shouldn’t be this hard but it is.

However, you do find traces of bright crimson webbing, strung up messily. Erratically. Normally, Miguel is knife-precise with his webbing but you’re more focused on the fact that you found traces of him to really think about that. You also find deep claw marks from where he had probably dug himself out of. Awesome. That means he’s not collapsed in a pool of his own blood somewhere. All good signs.

Unfortunately, as you follow the trail of webbing up, he’s climbed up to the second floor and is somewhere up there in the ruins. Is he looking for you? You had been on the second floor when the explosion went off initially, only to be knocked all the way down. That’s a little weird — you thought he would’ve taken a more methodical approach of searching all of floor one before moving on, but you dismiss it.

Half the time, you have no idea what he’s doing anyways. It’s probably not that important, and you now have a cookie crumb trail leading you straight to the big boss himself. You plaster your palms to one of the support beams, hissing in pain as the scraped skin meets cool concrete, but you force yourself to climb anyways. Your hands ache, and you’re going at the pace of a snail, but at long last you manage to make it up there with some help from your webs.

From there, you just follow the geometrical lines of Miguel’s webs, rounding corners and avoiding chunks of concrete and various pieces of rubble. It’s darker here, and the only sources of light are the neon webs glowing dimly from where they’re splattered randomly upon surfaces.

Your healing factor must’ve kicked in by now, since the pain in your ankle is lessening — if not incredibly slowly. You’re able to put a tiny bit more pressure on it as you walk on, periodically calling out for Miguel.

There’s no answer.

You don’t let it get to you. And you do find Miguel, once you slip under a fallen pillar and see — a massive figure hunched over in a corner, suspended in a nest of crimson webbing. You mutter a curse, squinting up at him. He’s not moving and other than the occasional rattling hiss of breath, it’s utterly silent. You find your heart starting to constrict on itself. A fear response. Why? Miguel isn’t a threat. He’s fine.

Why do you feel like this? There’s an impending sense of danger shrieking in your head but maybe your senses are just .. off. You swallow a bit nervously before clearing your throat loudly.

“Miguel! I’ve been looking for you — you okay?” You ask, forcing your irrational fear down. He moves then, his huge frame tensing as he turns around, his eyes eerily blank. Jeez, his pupils are massive and his hair is all messy, errant strands flicking in front of his face as he stares down at you. “Hey, big guy.” You try for a smile, ignoring the way your voice goes high at the end.

He clambers down from the web slowly on all fours, his eyes completely fixed on you and nothing else. He’s moving pretty gingerly and you spot a couple of lacerations and possibly some broken bones as he moves. Not the best, but you’re mainly just glad he’s fine. Miguel’s nostrils flare, and he opens his mouth slightly, inhaling slowly. He’s acting weird. Really freaking weird.

“Miguel? What’s up with you?” You retreat a step. He advances a step, and you can see him bare fangs, the sharp points glimmering in the dark.

That’s your only warning before he lunges, his huge body moving scarily quick as you throw yourself to the side, narrowly missing the outstretched talons. Your pulse is thrumming in your ears as you gasp, eyes wide as saucers.

“Miguel — its me! Miguel —!” You shout, only to be cut off as he lowers himself to the ground again, reminiscent of a hunter’s crouch. You can’t see anything but Miguel’s eyes and you can’t quite strangle the scream of fear as one gigantic hand reaches out lightning quick and wraps around you. His talons retreat back into the pads of his fingers, and while his hold is surprisingly gentle, you’re still completely unnerved by the way he’s acting. You stay completely still as he raises you up to his face — and he inhales.

His brows twitch into a frown and he sits back on his haunches, using his other hand to carefully examine your hands, his eyes tracking over all the various bruises and scrapes spread over your body. The frown only deepens when he glances at your ankle. He’s still being oddly silent, and while you’re grateful he’s not being hostile, you still have no idea what’s going on. He tilts his head. Examining you with laser sharp focus.

Then he opens his mouth — and you freeze up as you stare down the dimly illuminated maw, the plush flesh shifting and dimly, you realize you’re being lowered down toward the abyss. Saliva pools inside Miguel’s mouth in preparation and the warmth of his breath washes over you. For a second, you can imagine it. The sensation of slime soaked into your body, the visceral click of teeth sealing you away, the suffocating vice of being squeezed down that powerful throat, never to be seen again — no.

You refuse. This isn’t how it ends. It can’t be.

You snap out of your daze and throw out a massive amount of web, hitting him square in the eyes with a panicked flurry. Miguel jolts back with a loud snarl immediately, dropping you to tear at the thick coating over his vision, talons sinking into the web viciously.

You can’t help but scream as you land on your ankle with a sickening crack— holy fucking goddamn shiiit, if it wasn’t broken before, it definitely is now. You glance up at Miguel — still trying to take off the thick webbing — and hobble away, dragging yourself with heaving breaths. Farther, faster.

You have to breathe through the stars burning across your vision as you search for something to help. Anything. You used the last of the webbing in your canisters on blinding Miguel so now, it’s just you. Everything is hurting and you can barely see straight as you get as far as you can and crawl into a tiny hole barely big enough for your body, a shelter made from rubble and concrete. It’s tight and cramped and you can’t stop your chest from heaving. Tears of pain squeeze out of your eyes and you press a hand over your mouth to muffle any pained sounds that could escape.

There’s a loud ripping sound as Miguel finally tears off the makeshift blindfold with a roar, and you press yourself back against the walls bracketing you in. He’s gone insane. He’s actually crazy. You stifle a hysterical sort of giggle. How the hell is this your fucking life?

There’s a quiet snuffling sound and your blood runs cold as you realize he’s following your scent trail. Plus there’s no way you didn’t leave an incriminating trail of crimson with how you’re injured — he’ll find you. There’s no doubt about it.

Footsteps, nearly silent, pace closer and you hold your breath, willing your heart to stop beating so loud. This is utterly terrifying. Everything is quiet for a moment. You don’t dare make a single sound, and you can’t tell what Miguel is doing at all.

For a moment, you hope that he’s lost interest and moved on. Maybe he’s looking somewhere else. Maybe he’s decided you aren’t worth it as a meal. You pray and you hope against hope. It’s quickly dashed as one bright crimson eye fills your vision as Miguel peers in through the hole, his pupils completely dilated, leaving only a faint ring of red.

You scream as talons pry off the top part of your shelter with apparent ease, stabbing through concrete like butter. You’re too scared to move as his hand shoots out and captures you again. This time he looks distinctly grumpy with you, brows furrowed and mouth set into a down turned line.

He sniffs at you again, somehow looking even more disapproving when he gets to your ankle again, glaring at you like it’s your fault. You can’t help but take mild offense to that.

Miguel delicately plucks off your web shooters and discards them which — hey! Those aren’t cheap to make — before wasting no time and opening his mouth. You barely have time to blink before you’re eased inside his maw carefully, spit immediately covering you in a thick sheen. You splutter, wiping the thick fluid off of your face as warmth soaks you to the bone. His tongue shifts under you only a small amount, only flicking to drench more parts of you in saliva. Miguel makes a satisfied hum, the sound vibrating through your body as he takes you completely into his maw.

Oddly enough, he keeps you far away from any of his pearly incisors, only deciding to make sure you’re covered in slick spit. Once he’s determined you’re ready, he swallows once, dragging your feet toward the yawning abyss of his hungry, twitching throat.

You shriek, trying to cling onto anything as another loud swallow gets you down his throat from your chest down. Your hands grab at his uvula, holding on as tight as you can as you desperately try not to disappear down his ravenous gullet.

Miguel makes an annoyed sound, then you feel everything tighten around your body as he swallows forcefully and your grip on his dangling uvula is lost. You squeeze your eyes shut as he swallows one more time, sending you down his throat — not nearly as crushing as you had imagined, and letting you pool into a more spacious area.

The inside of here is soft and extremely squishy. When you try to brace a hand against the ground, it just sinks into the flesh, plush and malleable. You’re in a shallow puddle of fluid — saliva? Acid? — and while it doesn’t burn, it coats everything. Including you, and you swear, this is the weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced. There’s still fear burning through your veins, and you can’t stop yourself from trembling.

But fuck, you’re so exhausted and it’s so warm here. While the fluid is uncomfortable, it’s nothing against your acute tiredness and you can’t stop yourself from just sinking into the cushy, gurgling walls.

Miguel purrs quietly from outside, retreating back to the web-nest he had created earlier, seemingly satisfied with the little weight inside his gut. He curls up, ignoring the lancing pain from his wounds. He’ll have to explain a whole lot of shit once he returns from this instinctual state but for now, he’s content to curl up, secure and safe.

In the back of his mind, he can register something vaguely sounding like the completely freaked out human side of his brain shrieking it’s head off, but it’s so inconsequential that he finds himself blocking it out lazily. Something about not eating his subordinates…?

Eh. He’ll figure it out when the rest of the spiders come to pick them up. He places a hand over his stomach, massaging it idly.

—

@diningopossum

#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #sfw vore #nonsexual vore #nonfetish vore #Sw writes fics #s: spidervores #spidervore #spidervores

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sagethegaywitch · 2 months ago

Text

Dimensions: Pomefiore

Male reader

TW: yandere behavior, memory erasing, poisoning, implied Grim death

Genre: yandere

Here's the link for my other Dimensions: Twisted Wonderland Overblots works.

The story will take place in Germany, the one from the original “Snow White And Seven Dwarfs” that the Pomefiore dorm is based on. As the overblot eats away at the characters, they start to resemble and act more like the Disney characters they are based on. The reader will be called Y/N and Snow White.

I'm sorry if this seems a bit rushed, I was really struggling with this one for some reason. I had to delete the original post cause it had some formatting errors, but everything is fixed now.

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When you wake up, you feel stiff and uncomfortable, your muscles aching a bit as you try to sit up and stretch. You let out a yawn and stretch your arms over your head before you gaze around the bedroom. You don’t remember falling asleep here, but the room is very small and the ceiling is unusually low to the point you can barely sit up without your head grazing the roof. You move to stand up, but find it near impossible due to the size of the room, so you decide to leave from the equally short door frame. Once outside the room, you head down the stairs to a much larger and spacious living room. The ceiling is still a bit low, but you can fully stand up and stretch properly. You let out a relieved groan as you stretch all the sleepiness from your body and you have to pull your shirt down to avoid it from exposing your stomach. You look down at your outfit to find a off-white colored poet blouse and dark brown pants. Both are covered with sewn on patches to cover holes and stains. You don’t remember going to sleep wearing this outfit, but you actually remember going to sleep at all.

“How curious,” you think to yourself as you try your hardest to recall your last memory.

You come up with nothing, almost getting a headache in the process. You shake off the curiosity that eats away at you and just decide to figure out where you are now. You don’t recognize your surroundings, the small cabin seeming odd and unfamiliar. Maybe going outside to see the exterior would help. You open the front door and step outside to be greeted with soft light filtering through the tall trees that surround the cabin. There are birds chirping in the distance and many woodland creatures greet you as you wander around a bit. The atmosphere is so serene and peaceful that you don’t really notice that the birds have stopped singing until you hear a twig snap behind you. You whip around to see a black feather plume disappear behind a bush.

“Hello?” you call out hesitantly.

The bush rustles a bit before a blonde-haired man bursts free from the foliage. You let out a startled yelp as he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug and lifts you a bit off the ground as he rambles in French.

“What!? Who are you?” you exclaim as you struggle to free yourself from the stranger’s embrace.

“Little Trickster, do not be silly,” he tells you as he settles you back onto the ground, his hands still resting on your shoulders. “I cannot believe you managed to wander all the way out here. Were you perhaps looking for me?”

Although he says it playfully, you don’t miss how his eyes shift uneasily around the area, as if expecting you to make a run for it.

“What? No. Who are you?” you demand as you carefully hold his wrists and remove them from your shoulders.

The man’s smile drops, turning into a concerned frown, “Has the Trickster forgot who he is? My, what a funny prank. But come along, Vil is waiting for you.”

He’s about to take your arm and start leading you somewhere, but you rip your hand out of his and take steps away from him. His expression looks hurt, but his eyes are like hawks and glare at you.

“I will not ask again, but who are you? I woke up here without any of my memories. Do you know me?” you ask more forcibly, putting more distance between yourself and the blonde man.

“So this is not one of your pranks?” he questions, a look of confusion on his face as he tries to decide if you’re lying or not.

“No…at least I don't think so?” you add as he continues to scrutinize you.

“Alright, I believe you,” he tells you after a quick pause before bowing and giving an introduction. “I am Rook Hunt, the Queen’s favored hunter. You are Snow White, the Queen’s favorite prince.”

“Snow White?” you mutter to yourself, the name sounding familiar but not your own.

“Yes, and if we do not hurry back to the castle, the Queen will throw a fit,” Rook explains as he tentatively hooks his arm with yours and starts slowly walking through the woods.

The soft lighting guides you through the forested area, some woodland creatures looking over at you curiously but instantly running away when they notice Rook walking beside you. The woods soon part and you can see a cliff over a lake in the distance. Nestled at the edge of the cliff is a medieval castle that is white in color with a brick red roof, the stacked spires looked neat and organized. Rook leads you to a tan horse with a black mane and tail tied to a nearby tree. Rook unties the rope and stands behind you and before you get a chance to protest, he’s lifting you up and placing you on the saddle. Rook easily mounts the stallion behind you and lightly kicks the horse’s sides. The horse starts walking, Rook steering it through the trees and up the hill toward the castle that looms over you.

Once you’ve arrived at the top of the hill and the castle gates opened up, Rook dismounts before helping you down. The horse gets passed on to a stablehand while Rook ushers you toward the main doors. The doors are opened by decorated guards and reveal a lavish hallway covered with a deep purple carpet and gold ornaments. You’re in awe as you walk down, looking all around, trying to absorb all the details. Rook seems uninterested, probably having seen this hallway a thousand times as he urges you to hurry. Down the long hallway is another pair of golden doors, with guards standing in the corners. Rook nods at them before they open the doors, the shiny interior blinding you for a moment. Once you blink the light out of your eyes, you can see ceiling to floor windows letting the afternoon sunlight in. The windows are draped with curtains of the same deep purple color as the carpet and are covered in golden tassels and prints. Once you manage to pull your eyes away from the pretty curtains, you see a prettier man sitting atop a golden and spiky-looking throne in the center of the room. He’s dressed in a dark purple and black dress with a tight golden corset around his waist and a golden crown that resembles a peacock tail (Vil is in his overblot outfit). The throne is elevated by a few steps, so he looks down at you both as Rook pulls you closer, his right eye glowing a dark purple.

“Your Highness, you won’t believe where I found our Little Trickster,” Rook sounds cheerful, not seeming to grasp the cold atmosphere.

“Snow White, what did you think you were doing?” the Queen speaks, his voice sounding both dainty and stern.

“Ummm, I don’t know?” you say, sounding more like a question.

“It’s horrible, Vil. He doesn’t remember anything!” Rook wails, dramatically grabbing you and pouting.

Vil doesn’t let surprise register on his face, but his eyes seem to light up in joy, “That’s peculiar. Hmmm…come up.”

You take a few hesitant steps closer to Vil, standing at the foot of the steps that led up to his elevated platform. He gestures you closer until you're standing right in front of him, letting out a startled noise as he pulls you onto his lap. He grabs your chin, turning your head to the right and to the left, scrutinizing your entire face. He mutters to himself as he pokes certain spots on your face, his sharp manicured nails scraping along your skin.

“You seem relatively unharmed. Where did Rook find you, darling?” Vil questions as he drops his hand from your face to hold your hand.

“I-I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully. “I just woke up in this small cabin and Rook found me wandering around in the surrounding forest.”

Vil’s eyes narrow and he has a silent conversation with Rook with just their shifty eyes. Rook bows to Vil before leaving the throne room, filling you with worry and dread to be left alone with the Queen.

“Well, you’re absolutely filthy, so we’ll have to get you bathed and dressed,” Vil tells you as he rings a small bell that rests on the table beside his throne.

You watch as another person comes through the main doors, but this time it's a petite boy with light purple hair. He seems a bit pissed to be disturbed from wherever he came from, but he gives Vil a small bow before looking at you, his bad mood seeming to evaporate.

“Epel, would you be a dear and take Snow White to his room and help him freshen up,” Vil orders, looking at the boy expectantly.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Epel bows again before motioning for you to follow him.

You look back at Vil and he gives you an encouraging smile, something telling you that the fondness behind it is not his normal behavior. You stand up from Vil’s lap and you walk down the stairs to stand next to Epel, the boy grabbing your hand and leading you out of the throne room.

“Where have you been?! You know better than to run off like that!” the boy scolds you as he drags you father into the castles, walking down a hall with large windows looking into a courtyard garden. “What were you thinking?!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite remember,” you sheepishly respond, almost knocking into him when he stops walking.

“What are you, daft? How could you not remember?” Epel huffs, letting go of your arm to cross his arms across his chest with a disappointed glare.

You nervously rub the nape of your neck as the smaller boy continues to scowl, “Well, I’ve lost my memories. I don’t remember anything from my past. My earliest memory is waking up in a cabin in the woods and Rook finding me.”

Epel’s rough attitude seems to melt as you tell your story before just sighing and taking your hand again, “Geez, you need to stop getting yourself in trouble. It’s dangerous out there, but I’ll help you try and recover your memories.”

“Thank you,” you smile at Epel as you two finish climbing up a flight of stairs and he stops in front of a door.

He uses the golden handles to push the door open to reveal a luxurious bedroom with a king sized bed. The decorations are in that same dark purple color with golden accents. The windows have the drapes pulled back and you can see off into the forest that seems to go on forever. Epel has to snap you out of your awe by taking your hand and leading you over to another pair of doors that open into the bathroom. The bathroom is more bright, with white tiles and a small staircase that has a tub nestled in the middle of it (I don’t know how to describe it, the tub is like the ones you’d see in fantasy movies or like the ones in The Arcana). As Epel runs the water, you awkwardly wait for him. Will he stay here while you bathe? Can you close the curtains so nobody can watch you even though you're on the second story?

“I’ll let you get washed up. The shampoo and conditioner are there and the body wash is over here. You can use this towel to dry off later. I’ll just wait outside, knock if you need me,” Epel tells you before swiftly exiting.

Well, that answered some of your questions. Now in privacy, you take off the outfit you were wearing and gently lay them aside before slipping into the tub. Vil said you were filthy, but luckily for you the water didn’t go brown as you washed your hair and scrubbed your body. You drained the water before exiting the tub and dried off with a fluffy and warm towel before coming to the realization that you don’t have any fresh clothing. You contemplated putting on the clothing you just took off, but they somehow disappeared while you were bathing. You find a soft robe next to the sink and quickly put it on before cracking the door open a bit to call to Epel.

“Hey, Epel? Do you have any clothing I could borrow?” you call out.

“Darling, come on out if you’re done. We’ll get you dressed out here,” Vil’s voice responds instead.

You peek your whole head out to see all three males waiting for you. Rook had pulled out the vanity chair and Vil stood with a hairbrush in his hand. Epel was standing near the wardrobe, looking through the different outfits inside before taking a few out and resting them on a chair.

“Come on, I’ll brush your hair and apply your makeup,” Vil says, gesturing for you to come sit in the chair.

Thankful that the robe went down to your knees, you shyly walk over and sit down, sinking in the soft cushion. Vil combs through your hair, making sure to gently work through knots and not pull your hair too much. He arranges your hair in your usual hairstyle, but he makes sure it looks flawless and perfect. Satisfied, he pulls open the different vanity drawers to reveal enough makeup to fill a store. He pulls out the basics and applies a little on your face with brushes and sponges.

“You’re perfect already, but I’m just going to accentuate your beauty,” Vil tells you as he applies some lip gloss to your lips before using the tube on his own lips.

After a few more touches he nods before stepping back and helping you to your feet. He brings you over to Epel who has your outfit prepared and helps you put it on. By the end of it, your face is red and you're flustered from all the close attention you’re getting from the boys. You look over in the mirror to find yourself wearing a dark blue shirt that has puff sleeves at the wrists with a white collar along with a short red cape attached to the collar of the shirt and a pair of pastel yellow pants.

“You look marvelous, Little Trickster!” Rook exclaims, giving you a round of applause.

“Indeed you do, but one final detail is missing," Vil comments before gently taking your hand and slipping one of his many rings onto your finger.

You look down at the golden piece of metal and take in the symbol that is placed where the gem usually is : a shield depicting an apple being stabbed by a knife with a crown on top of the shield. It's beautiful, the evening light causing it to shine and sparkle.

Vil smiles as you adore his ring and you look up at him, eyes shining at you say thank you.

"Anytime, darling," Vil pats your head before looking out the window at the setting sun. "And just on time, it’s dinner time."

You loop your arm through his and he leads the group out of the room and down a hallway. Eventually you find yourself in a large dining room, the long table in the middle set for four people. Vil guides you to the right side of the head chair and Rook sits in the seat across from you while Epel sits next to you. Vil settles himself into the head chair before clapping his hands. The doors behind him open as servants start to bring out the plates. Once they set the plate in front of you, you’re a bit disappointed to see a small piece of meat and a tiny side of vegetables drizzled with sauce. Vil and Rook start to eat, but Epel looks absolutely horrified that this is all there is for dinner. He sends you a disgusted look and you just shrug before digging in, savoring the flavorful and tender meat. The vegetables taste fresh and are lightly seasoned to perfection. Although the portion was a bit small, you feel satisfied with the meal and sigh constantly.

“Compliments to the chef,” Rook states before clapping his hands and the dishes get swept away by the servants.

“It’s getting late, and you all need your beauty sleep,” Vil says as he stands up. “Snow White, we can do some skincare in my room before you go to sleep. I need to remind you of the strict schedule we uphold here.”

You look outside the windows just to see the sun barely starting to set. Maybe time moves differently here if 7:00 PM is considered late. Vil walks over to your chair and helps you stand up before starting to lead you away from the dining room. You walk back to the area where your room is, but he walks into the one next to yours. The golden door has an engraving with Vil’s name on it, and he even has a special key to open his bedroom door. Just as you’re about to enter, Rook runs up behind you with Epel in tow.

“Wait Roi de Poison! I need to talk to you about something,” Rook calls out.

Rook stops in front of you two, and gives Vil a meaningful look, “Privately.”

“Snow, wait inside for me, this shouldn’t take too long,” Vil tells you as he gently pushes you toward his door before turning around and walking away with Rook.

“I hope everything is okay,” you murmur.

“I heard that there was an intruder in the castle. But it should be nothing to worry about, Rook is the best shot in all of Germany,” Epel reassures before pulling something out of his pocket. “Here, in case you get hungry later.”

Epel passes you a small container that smells strongly of apples.

“Thank you,” you tell him before quickly hiding it in your clothing. “I should get inside before Vil gets back.”

“Yeah, just let me know if you need anything. My room is just down the hall,” Epel tells you before disappearing down the hallway.

You smile as you enter the room, finding the inside excessively decorated. It’s pretty similar to your room, but it’s just larger. You take a seat on the plush sofa, patiently waiting for Vil to return. You let your eyes wander over to his neatly organized vanity table and his folded bed. Everything in the room is perfectly placed, just like the man who lives in it. Now having some time to yourself, you can fully comprehend your situation. You don’t really know who you are, but these people have willingly taken you into their family. It fills you with a warm feeling knowing that you have such caring friends who will help you in your time of need. You jump when Vil barges into the room, but he quickly apologizes when he sees that he startled you.

“Sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he composes himself as he glides over to you.

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you stand and join him at his vanity.

He sits down on the seat before pulling you to sit on his lap. He starts explaining the skincare routine he wants you to maintain while pulling bottles and containers out of the vanity drawers. He pats, smears, and dabs different serums and lotions onto your face before doing the same to himself. To finish it off, he layers a face mask onto your face and forces you to lay on the bed with him to wait for your skin to soak in the mask’s benefits. You can feel your eyes grow heavy, but you don’t even get a chance to tell Vil before you pass out, mentally and physically exhausted from the day.

The soft sunlight filtering from the gauzy curtains awakens you in the morning. You don’t feel the face mask on your face anymore so Vil must have taken it off for you last night. Speaking about Vil, you find the male cuddled up to your side, holding onto your waist. He looks beautiful even in his slumber even though he has hair curlers tangled in his blonde locks and an eye cover on. He still looks asleep, but it doesn’t take him long to stir as you attempt to escape his embrace. He groans as he reaches for you and grumpily gropes at the empty space you left behind. When he can’t find you, he lifts up his eye mask to see you trying to creep out of his room.

“Darling, where are you going? It’s too early for this, my alarm hasn’t even gone off yet,” Vil complains.

As if on cue, the alarm by his bed starts ringing. Vil sighs before turning it off and getting out of bed. He approaches you and leads you to his bathroom, which is almost as big as his room.

“Shouldn’t I go back to my room?” you ask as he grabs a spare toothbrush from a drawer for you to use.

“No, it’s fine. We used to have sleepovers all the time,” he tells you as he hands you the prepared toothbrush with a dab of toothpaste on top of it.

You both take your time in brushing your teeths and Vil even helps you wash your face and apply some skincare. Once the whole ordeal of getting ready is over, Vil gives you an outfit similar to what you wore yesterday and guides you out of his room. You jump as you run right into Rook, the man appearing to have been waiting in front of the door for quite a bit of time.

“Good morning, Little Trickster!” Rook exclaims before addressing Vil a small bow and a “Your Highness”. “I have so much planned for us today!”

“Will Epel and Vil be joining us?” you ask as Rook grasps your hands and starts to walk away from Vil’s room.

“Unfortunately it will just be you and Epel with Rook today, I have work I need to do. I am a Queen afterall,” Vil tells you before kissing your forehead and walking the opposite direction.

You wave goodbye to the Queen as you head down another hallway, finding Epel waiting at the bottom of the staircase. He offers you a good morning and joins you on your other side. The three of you engage in pleasant conversation that easily transitions from topic to topic as you exit the palace and start to wander around the garden. You find yourself laughing and chatting among these boys who were mere strangers yesterday. Your little trio pauses at a wooden gate in a stone wall, which is covered in a thin layer of green vines. Rook produces a key from his pockets and sends you a mysterious wink before unlocking the door for you all to pass through. Inside the wall are rows and rows of apple trees all bearing ripe fruits, all being an assortment of colors, ranging from reds to greens to yellows.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Epel asks you. “This is my favorite part of the castle.”

You can only nod in awe before you’re brought back to the present when Epel passes you a wooden bucket. He gives you a quick rundown on how to pick the best apples and Rook proposes a friendly competition on who can fill their basket the fastest.

“You two are going down,” you claim before running down a row of trees, laughing as Epel and Rook taunt you.

You grab at the fresh fruit hanging on the low branches and in record time, your basket is filled. As you start to race back, you hear some muttering nearby. Thinking it’s Rook or Epel, you decide to sneak up on him.

“Blah, that one’s sour,” the voice exclaims as a green apple rolls out from behind a tree.

“Boo!” you yell as you jump from behind the tree.

Instead of the blonde archer or the petite boy, you’re shocked to find a small gray cat startled by your little prank. The blue flames in his ears flare up a bit as he jumps like a scared cat. He’s about to scold you, but when he gets a good look at your shocked face, recognition washes over his expression.

“Human! It’s you!” the cat cheers as he quickly climbs up your leg and sits on your shoulder. “Now we can finally escape. Do you know how hard it is to dodge Rook’s arrows?”

“What!? Who are you?” you question as you struggle to shake the feline off.

“Human, what is the meaning of this? Did you hit your head or something?” Grim asks as his claws dig into your shoulder. “Y/N, snap out of it! We have work to do!”

You pause, the name triggering something within you. Suddenly, you remember it all: the overblots, your school, and the friends you have to save. You accidentally fell through the Pomfiore mirror during the mass overblot event. You aren’t Snow White, you’re Y/N and you need to get out of here.

“Y/N?” Grim calls out of you, bringing you back to reality.

“Grim?” you respond. “I-I have my memories back. That was weird.”

“Yeah, it was. I thought you were going to leave me all alone to save the world by myself,” he huffs.

“Like I would let you have all the fun,” you remark, smiling at your familiar.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, getting comfortable on your shoulder.

“I need to meet up with Rook and Epel and get out of this orchid first. Maybe we can escape in the dead of night? I’m pretty familiar with the layout of the castle now,” you offer.

“That should work. So I’ll meet you at the palace door around midnight, human?” Grim smirks.

“Of course,” you grin before dropping Grim off your shoulder and grabbing your apple basket.

You carefully weave your way back to the entrance of the orchid while Grim goes off to lay low for a while.

“What took you so long, slowpoke?” Epel laughs as you enter the small clearing.

Both of Epel’s and Rook’s baskets are filled to the brim with apples, but a few of Rook’s have arrows sticking out of them.

“Sorry, I got lost,” you quickly lie as you place your basket by their piles.

“It’s okay, these orchids go on for miles,” Epel reassures. “But since I got back first, I won!”

“It’s not fair, you were raised on a farm,” Rook laments as he sighs dramatically.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter cause now we have a bunch of nice apples to enjoy,” you tell them both before picking one up and wiping it on your clothing to clean it.

You’re about to bite into it before it’s quickly snatched from your grasp by Epel.

“Bad apple,” he explains as he shows you the other side to find a large bruise damaging the skin.

As an apology, Epel grabs one from his own basket and tosses you the plump fruit. You grin as you clean it and bite into the fruit. The juice instantly floods your mouth and starts to dribble out of the sides. The flesh is crunchy and crisp, making that deliciously crunching noise. Epel takes a seat on the grass, pulling out a small pocket knife before starting to carve into the bruised apple. Rook takes a seat next to Epel, fiddling with some of his arrows, straightening the feathers and sharpening the tips. Rook gestures for you to join them so you take a seat and rest your head on Rook’s lap, carefully finishing your apple. You spend the rest of the morning gazing at the sky, pointing out shapes in the clouds while Rook’s fingers raked through your hair. Just when you’re able to fall asleep, Epel shows you what he’s been working on. Sitting up, you gently take the carved apple he had been working so hard on.

“Is that me?” you smile as you examine the intricate details in the apple.

Epel’s face erupts in a red blush and he averts his gaze as he nods.

“It looks just like you,” Rook comments as he looks over your shoulder.

“I love it,” you reassure Epel. “I’ll keep it for as long as I can.”

Epel smiles at your comment before standing up and offering you his hand.

“I think it's nearly lunchtime, we should start heading back inside,” Epel tells you as he grabs his basket of apples.

You nod and lean down to grab yours as well. Rook moves to do the same but he seems to perk up and looks over to the orchid.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Rook says, distracted with something in the distance.

Epel just shrugs as he grabs at your hands. You can’t help but feel worried that Grim might be in danger, but he’s a smart cat and you can’t blow your cover. You spare one more glance over your shoulder as the wooden door closes behind you. You follow Epel back into the palace and hand over the baskets to some servants before entering the dining room. You find Vil sitting at the head of the table again and you take the same seat you did last night.

“Did you have fun today, Snow White?” Vil asks as he flips through some documents he has laid out in front of him.

“I really enjoyed myself. We got a bunch of apples and maybe I can make some dessert later with it. What do you think about an apple pie?” you tell Vil, trying to mislead him.

Vil hums in agreement before signing the papers and having some servants take them away just as lunch arrives. The lunch consists of tea sandwiches and pastries coupled with different flavors of hot tea. Vil points out a few of his favorite flavors for you to try and even helps you mix in an “appropriate” amount of sugar and cream to make it “healthy”. Lunch is nearly over when a servant speed walks into the dining room and whispers something into Vil’s ear. Vil has no visible reaction, but his eyes hold a dangerous glint.

“I’ve just received wonderful news,” Vil says before taking a sip of his tea, his lips pulled into a polite smile. “Rook has taken care of a little pest of ours who has been running a muck around my castle.”

Your heart clenches, this can’t be about Grim. You barely register the servants taking the lunch dishes away until the doors of the dining room slam open again. Rook walks into the room, a large smile on his face and a little skip in his step. He doesn’t have his bow and arrow, but if you squint there does seem to be some dark smudges on his outfit.

“Snow White, you should be grateful that we have such a good hunter here to protect us all,” Vil tells you as Rook hands him an apple and Epel passes over his carving knife. “What should we say to Rook?”

You watch as Vil starts to cut the red fruit into even slices as Rook looks at you expectantly.

“Thank you Rook for protecting us,” you murmur, fear and dread washing over you.

“Aw, it was nothing. Anything to keep you safe, Little Trickster,” Rook grins as he takes his seat.

“Here,” Vil stabs a slice of the apple and holds the knife in your direction.

You carefully take the fruit off the sharp blade before biting into it. It’s still juicy, but it seems sweeter than the one you ate earlier and has a weird aftertaste.

“Rook, would you like to tell Snow White what you caught today,” Vil sets down the knife and rests his chin on his hands as he looks over at you.

“Of course, You Highness,” Rook seems too excited. “I found this little cat running around the palace. He was very difficult to track, but nothing escapes me.”

“What did you do to him?” you have to tread carefully, maybe they don’t know that you were trying to escape.

“I disposed of him as I saw fit,” Rook’s smile took on a creepy energy. “But he did tell me all about your little plan.”

“What plan?” you ask, thinking maybe you can play dumb.

“Don’t do that. You planned on escaping and leaving us behind,” Vil states.

So far Epel had been quiet during the entire conversation as he soaked in all the new information, but at the mention of you trying to leave he stands up.

“You were trying to leave us? After everything we’ve done for you?” he glares at you.

“You haven’t done anything for me! You’ve imprisoned me here and wiped my memories!” you retort, standing up as well.

Suddenly you feel dizzy, but you brush it off as you standing up too quickly. But the feeling persists until you have to hold onto the table for support.

“That’s where you’re wrong. We didn’t take your memory away the first time, but we won’t allow you to remember a second time,” Vil gives you a soft smile.

You don’t even get a chance to ask what the hell he’s talking about as the world spins and you collapse onto the floor.

“I think he’s waking up,” a soft voice exclaims, rousing you from your sleep.

You groan, your body feeling icky and a dull ache in all of your muscles.

“Don’t push yourself too much, you were very sick,” Epel’s face comes into view as he helps you sit up.

Epel props you up against another warm body and you lean your head back to see Vil smiling down at you.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice raspy and your throat dry.

Rook, who had been sitting at the end of the bed, holds a glass of water to your mouth and helps you take slow sips of the refreshing liquid.

“I’m afraid that someone had tried to poison you, darling,” Vil sighs, disappointment on his face. “Luckily for you I was able to make the antidote and Rook was able to catch the criminal.”

“Do not fear Little Trickster, I took care of them. They shouldn’t be a problem any more,” the hunter says with glee.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I gave you all a scare,” you tell them, your throat feeling much better.

You get this deep feeling that this is all wrong, that something isn’t quite right, but how could these men be suspicious when they nursed you back to health. You should be grateful, not afraid. You just sigh contently as you lean back into Vil’s warm embrace.

“Don’t be, we’re just glad you’re alright,” Vil smiles. “After all, you’re the apple of our eyes.”

#male reader #yandere #twisted wonderland #pomefiore #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #Dimensions #overblot #xreader

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 1 year ago

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Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 11]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Light Alcohol CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 7.4K

(11/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: This has to be the fastest I've uploaded an update AHAHA also quick heads up I updated the OC Guide

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2015

“I’m home,” your keys hung loosely from your hands. “Hello?” Usually, you would’ve been greeted by at least Alfred. “Timmy? Cass?” Still, no response. “Well, what the fuck,” you shrugged and trudged upstairs. The manor was unnervingly quiet today, and you knew well enough that there was something amiss. Then, finally, you heard a conversation just ahead.

“I apologize if it’s a little cramped,” Alfred remarks. You stuck your head in. “Ah, Miss (Y/N), welcome home.”

“Hey, Alfred,” you looked at the child in front of you. “Huh… they get younger every year,” you crossed your arms.

“And who the hell are you?” He snarks. “A maid?”

“Oh, and he’s feisty,” you leaned against the door frame. “What’s your story then? Orphaned? Stole tires? Figured him out?” You went down the line and counted on your hands.

“Not necessarily,” your dad walks in from behind you and you jumped in your shoes.

“Hello to you too,” you rolled your eyes.

“(Y/N), this is Damian,” your father introduces him. “He’s your brother.” Your eyes widened. You looked at Damian again and, now that you really thought of it, you could see the resemblance to older pictures of your dad.

“Half brother, I’m guessing,” you added.

“Right. This will be his home from now on, help him get adjusted,” your father places the luggage in his hands down. “But, I’m not too worried about you.”

“Huh, have you told Dick yet?”

“He got here half an hour ago.”

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll clean up whatever mess happens,” you pushed off of the door now. “It’s nice to meet you, Damian, let’s get to know each other better later once you’re finished unpacking. I know a great arcade in the city you might like,” you adjusted your backpack and crossed the hall to your room. You leaned your backpack against your desk and went straight to work. The college application deadline was fast approaching and you had to be on top of it, then exam season was also following in its heels so you had to remain vigilant of that.

“So what exactly is your role, then?” Damian’s voice came behind you. You ignored the way your heart stopped from shock and turned around after taking a deep breath. You'd never get used to being snuck up on, even after having to deal with your brothers.

“Heiress. You?”

“You? Heir to what? The Batman title?” He was seated on your bed with his arms crossed.

“Oh no, no way, heiress to Wayne Industries of course,” you corrected him. “I have no intentions of doing whatever vigilante work dad or any of you usually do,” you crossed your arms and shook your head.

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“No, sir, I am not,” you nudged your head toward the desk behind you. “Plus I have more important things to worry about.”

“So you have no formal training at all?” Damian asks with heavy skepticism.

“I mean, I have basic combat skills that I learned from Dick and Jason, but that’s about it, just enough to handle my own, but not enough to do any vigilante work,” your eyes shifted to the side in thought. “Why?”

“I find it hard to believe that anyone would pass up an opportunity to become stronger.”

“I’m stronger in my own way, thank you very much,” you rolled your eyes and turned back around to your desk. “If you need anything else, just let me know. We’re siblings so I’ll always be happy to help you out,” you opened your laptop and started typing up one of your college essays. Damian didn’t respond, and when you looked back to check on him, he was gone. “They get stranger every time too…” you mumbled right as Dick sent a text to the sibling group chat.

‘THERE’S ANOTHER ONE?!’ You chuckled and shook your head.

‘Yeah.’ Tim’s response was blunt and your heart suddenly sank. Especially when just moments later his contact name appeared across your screen. You answered without hesitation.

“Hey, Timmy, what’s up?” You asked.

“Hey, sis, are you busy right now?”

“Just working on college applications, but I have plenty of time, where are you?”

“Let’s grab a coffee together, my treat! I just want someone to talk to right now.”

“Of course, Tim, I’ll be right over, our usual spot, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll save us a table. Drive safe, (Y/N).”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m heading out now, bye!”

“See you.” He hung up first and you grabbed your things before heading out of your room. Damian, meanwhile, kicked off from the wall next to your room.

“Where are you going?” He asks. You toss him a quick glance and a shrug.

“Out, why?”

“Out to patrol, right?” He presses. You shake your head.

“Nope, I already told you, I don’t do that stuff,” you walked down the stairs and he followed.

“Not even like Gordon?”

“Uh… Mr. Gordon or Babs?” You ask.

“Barbara.”

“No, I’m not too versed in tech, not on her level at least,” you grabbed your keys. “I’d invite you to join me, but I’m meeting up with Tim so maybe next time,” you tossed them in your hand now.

“For an intel report?”

“Why are you so set on me being a vigilante? I want nothing to do with that stuff, Damian,” you turned to him now. What was so hard for him to understand that you just weren’t a fighting person?

“It’s just…” Damian stops. You realized now how small he was, he couldn’t have been older than ten. “My… our father is the Batman. My mother is Talia al Ghul and yours is Selina Kyle.” Huh, he did his research. “I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re wasting your potential. Why would you choose to be ordinary when you could be extraordinary?” He asks. You hummed and crossed your arms, what a way to put your decision down and by a child no less. You didn’t know Damian well at all, you’d just met him today and here he was putting your life on blast.

“Well, I guess that’s something we’ll both find out together later, huh? I’ll see you later, Damian,” you cut the conversation off and walked down to the garage. This time, Damian didn’t follow you.

2022

“I’m sorry you had to come here while it’s in this state, Damian,” you grimaced. You start moving around the apartment to tidy it up at least a little, “as you can tell, we’re not usually home,” you start piling beer bottles in your arms and tossing them in the bin. “I’ll be back, their majesties call,” you said with an annoyed tone before disappearing into one of the rooms.

“It feels like I have a massive hangover,” Nixon whines as he collapses on the couch.

“I think all my ribs are broken,” Carter mutters next to him.

“It’s not a competition, boy scout,” Nixon groans. “Alex?” He looks over at him.

“Get in line,” Alex finishes up wrapping Eve’s hands with fresh bandages.

“The fact that you two can both self-heal is fucking bullshit,” Nixon cries.

“It’s actually reattachment, which is much more painful than regen,” Alex replies, “Damian, come over here, (Y/N) would kill me if she saw so much as a scratch,” he gestures to the chair and Damian sits down hesitantly. “I don’t think you remember me.”

“I don’t.”

“Blunt, much?” Nixon snickers.

“I was penpals with your sister,” he rolls the bandages over Damian’s arms. “Nothing more, we had a thousand miles between us and your sister had a reply period of two business weeks,” he rolls his eyes. “Oh, Evangeline, could you look around if we have something for the lad to eat? When was the last time he ate anything?”

“When he scarfed down my lunch two days ago,” Nixon answers.

“Has it been two days?” Alex taps his head. The time period he’s been here had gone by in a blur. He didn’t even realize it had been that long at all. Landing here on this Earth, nearly being eaten alive by god knows what, and waiting in the cold dirt floors of the regroup encampment, before finally landing here. He wondered how many people went into battle because there were only fourteen people who made it to the encampment.

“I’m not hungry,” Damian cuts in. Just thinking of the brief moment he’d seen the aftermath of the battle nearly turned his stomach inside out.

“It’s not that, Damian, look at your hands,” Alex starts opening drawers and cabinets. Damian looks down and feels his throat go dry. His hands seemed nearly transparent as if he could stick them through anything and they’d easily go through.

“Explain, now!”

“This Earth’s protective spell is rejecting you since you’re not from here, eating anything from here will bypass that spell and make it seem like you’re native,” Alex opened the fridge. One beer and one egg.

“How old are you again, Damian?” Alex asks.

“Sixteen.”

“That’s old enough,” he took the bottle and hit the cap on the counter. The cap bounced off with a quiet clink and he handed it to Damian.

“He’s a child!” Eve gasps.

“Would you like to eat a raw egg, Damian?” He asks. Damian shakes his head. “Bottoms up then,” he hands the beer bottle to him.

“Wow, you two really live like this,” Nixon groans.

“How do you still have the energy to be an asshole?” Carter asks him.

“My sister surrounded herself with idiots,” Damian says with a quarter-finished bottle of beer. Just in time for you to walk out in a cleaner uniform. You adjusted your gloves over your hand.

“Oh, you gave my baby brother a beer,” you observed. “You could’ve given him the egg, you know.”

“You broke both our pot and pan,” Alex reminds you.

“In self-defense,” you grabbed your keys off the counter. “How you holding up, kiddo, tired? Hungry?”

“Confused,” Damian watched the color return to his hands.

“Wow, you two really are siblings, huh?” Nixon asks.

“I know, you think they’re idiots, it’s fine, come on, I have to take you with me,” you nudged your head toward the door and waited for Damian to follow. “Someone already reported Damian to her majesty, she’s demanding an explanation and I have about half an hour to bullshit a good one.”

“Oh, man, she’s going to give you hell, (Y/N),” Nixon’s laugh turns into a groan of pain.

“Dumbass,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, Damian, I’ll explain everything on the way,” you gestured for him to stand up and he did so. “Eve, do me a solid, can you warp us to the castle?”

“Of course,” she places her hand on her heart and bows slightly before waving her hand in a circular motion. A portal opens up next to her and inside Damian could see the faint traces of a regal room on the other side.

“You head in first, Dami,” you urged him in, and, carefully, he stepped through and landed in what looked like a waiting room. He turned around and saw a distorted version of your apartment within the vortex’s walls.

“What are you going to do about him, (Y/N)?” Alex asks.

“Get him home, obviously. But not now, the royal family is watching him because some idiot reported him as a survivor,” you shook your head. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Until then, he’d going to have to act.”

“I know, that’s what I’m worried about. I'm just trying to make sure he doesn't freak out,” you said before you finally stepped through and it swirled closed. “Okay so…” you looked Damian over, “I asked his highness for a favor, you can’t go in wearing your uniform,” you brushed the ashes off of his shoulder. Then, behind you, there is a knock at the door.

“Captain? May I come in?” Calvin’s voice was only loud enough for those in the room to hear.

“Door’s open.” The prince slid in with a bundle of clothes in his hands.

“Oh, goodness, when I heard you’d brought back a child with you I didn’t think the rumors were serious,” Calvin stares at Damian for a moment longer before turning to you. “These should fit him, I think, it’s the uniform we give to the wards when they’re still training.”

“I know what these are, I usually hand them out anyway,” you shrugged. “Damian, this is His Highness the Crown Prince, Calvin Reinhart. Your Highness, this is my younger brother, Damian Wayne.”

“I see, there is a subtle aura to you both that I now understand runs in the family,” he says vaguely. You handed the clothes to Damian.

“Get changed into those, kiddo, then we’ll talk,” you nodded.

“Comfort room is just across the hall,” Calvin points in its general direction with two fingers and Damian turns to you. You just nodded your head again and he left, just barely catching the conversation behind him. “I never took you as one to pick up a ward.”

“He’s in my care for the time being and he’s interested in Knighthood.” Your voices fell silent as soon as he closed the door behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror for a brief moment, spotting the scars and the healed-over gashes as well as the bandages, before slipping on the fresher pair of clothes. He folded his tattered uniform carefully, the encircled R staring back at him as he walked back.

“We should have him complete a field test then, you know what people would say if you just let him in.” Damian walked into the rest of the conversation and you held your hand out. He placed his uniform on it and you pushed it carefully into a backpack that you handed to him after.

“Oh, of course, I’ll do it by the books,” you reassured him. “What should I expect walking in?”

“My father wants a full report on what happened, you can just ignore whatever chide remarks my mother sends your way though,” he says.

“And you?”

“I don’t have a say in any of this,” he sighs. He looks at Damian. “Wow, a perfect fit.”

“He’s as ready for this as any of those other kids are,” you crossed your arms.

“Are you sure? That test is difficult, I barely got through it,” he says.

“Yours was a formality, your highness,” you reminded him.

“Right, right,” Calvin nods with a knowing smile. “I’ll see you in the throne room, then,” he bids goodbye and closes the door quietly behind him.

“Look at you, handsome devil,” you rubbed his hair gently and leaned against the table in the room. “Alright, Damian, ready for your first mission on this new Earth?”

“Absolutely,” he straightens up.

“Mission one on the new Earth: Be good, blend in. Look, the royal family can’t know that you dropped from another Earth, okay? As far as they know we’ve all been born and raised here, very few people know about where the Brigade members came from. So, let’s get our story straight,” you leaned down and spoke in a quiet voice. Your eyes moved side to side to ensure that no one was listening. “Like usual, you are my younger brother. Our parents are living in the mountain regions and sent both of us down when we were teenagers to find livelihoods. I’m all done, but you’re just starting, I brought you in to live with me because you were interested in joining the Knight’s Order, and from today on you will be my apprentice,” you spoke in a steady voice and he nodded.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t look into the eyes of the queen directly, she’ll know that you’re lying,” you told him. “Each member of the royal family has a special ability that has kept them in power. The King can crush your bones at the snap of his fingers, the Queen can know if you’re telling the truth with a simple glance at your eyes, and the Prince can throw anything and it’d reach it’s target. The presence of these innate abilities and the power to grant them is proof of royal blood,” you explained. “But, you don’t need to worry about all of that, hell, you don’t even have to worry about the practical exam coming up to enter as a Knight’s apprentice, at your skill level I’d promote you to the highest already,” you laughed shortly. “But, let me do all the talking in there, just observe, and if you notice something’s off, find a subtle way to tell me,” you stood up and he followed you out. You knew the layout of the castle already, having been here almost as many times as your own home, and finally you stood beyond two grandiose doors that stretched higher than Damian thought normal.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he nodded his head and you opened the doors, together, you both walked into the grand throne room. Before you sat three of the most powerful people in that world and, to say the least, Damian felt the pressure in the atmosphere. It was similar to those few times when he knew his enemies out-skilled him. He found himself subconsciously moving toward you and, as if you understood, your hand pulled him closer.

“Captain,” the King spoke.

“Your Majesty,” you stopped a good distance away from the thrones, bowed your head, and put your hand to your heart. Damian followed suit.

“What is that behind you,” the Queen spat. Damian didn’t miss the annoyed look in your eyes as you looked up at the other woman.

“My younger brother, and soon to be my apprentice,” you explained.

“I see,” she relaxes into her seat. “Quite the predicament you’ve found yourself in. If he will affect your duties, dispose of him.” Damian’s fists clenched behind his back, but he said nothing.

“That won’t be a problem. You’ll soon see that he is a very capable young man.”

“Tch,” the Queen turned her nose. Damian suddenly realizes why Jason would be so pissed when he did that to him. “So he’s virtually untouchable.”

“Yes.”

“Give me news on that village,” the King cut into the conversation.

“It’s unsalvageable, Your Majesty,” You replied curtly. He shifted slightly.

“How many survivors?”

“Five…”

“Hundred?” He cut you off.

“No, your majesty. Five,” you touched your heart again. “Correction, three, not including us from the Knight’s Order.”

“My god,” the Queen shook her head. “How could your team, your special operations unit, have failed?!”

“I believe I’ve told you before, Your Majesty, there have been frequent sightings of a new and much stronger daemon in our midst. Usually, we have been able to handle these mutations, but, for reasons unknown, an entire herd of a new variant descended upon the village,” you stood your ground and continued to explain the situation, all of which Damian already knew as Eve filled him in.

“Usually?” The King’s stance straightened and the Queen’s expression grew grave.

“Father, if you’d recall, I gave you a brief report on the Brigade’s findings a few days ago,” Calvin spoke up. The King held his hand up and Calvin stopped. “Captain, you look like you’re about to say something,” he gestures toward you.

“Yes, Your Majesty, I can assure you that the Brigade has everything under control.”

“New variant?” She asks. “How long have you been dealing with these beasts before informing us?!”

“Near a year now, Your Majesty, but with much smaller variants.”

“A year?! When were you planning on reporting this?!” She shouts.

“The Brigade has had this issue under control up until now. The mutations were advancing at a slow rate until now, and thus we kept a watchful eye on them. As I said, the variant that destroyed that village is a new one. We have never seen one that advanced that far,” your voice remained firm.

It was a presence that Damian wasn’t used to. The longer he stayed here, the more he realizes how much you’ve changed. Especially now, you look just like their father. Damian’s eyes wandered to the Prince, who was silent this entire time. He was almost entirely different than when he saw him earlier, whatever warmth he thought he saw in him was replaced with a bitter coldness that matched his parents, it was almost impressive. Calvin was watching you with a strange mix of curiosity, confusion, and concern. His head rested on the palm of his hand as he tried to feign superiority, but he held a similar annoyed expression that you had, with his eyes constantly shifting to the Queen, who seemed ready to boil over with rage.

“I see,” the King tapped his foot, the sound bouncing off of the room’s walls. “Then continue doing what you’ve been doing.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Await further orders then, Captain. You are dismissed.” You bowed your head again, turned on your heel, and left, Damian following close behind with every hair at the back of his neck standing up from the stares alone.

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?” Dick shouts. Tim rubs his head angrily and gestures toward the screen.

“Do you see him on the radar? No? Well, neither can I!” He argues. Jason rolls his eyes.

“Stop arguing,” Bruce sighs.

“Why am I even here?” Jason grumbles. He takes his helmet. “I’m out, this is stupid. We’re wasting time using this tech, I’ll find him myself and drag him back, yeah? Maybe the kid found (Y/N) already too,” he says.

“Jason has a point, we’re getting nowhere configuring this system,” Bruce concedes.

“Jason, Bruce, wait, come on, we should make sure he’s alright, the fact that he’s not pinging here is a huge problem,” Dick reasons. Tim turns back to the bat computer and a notification pings. “Hold on, there’s some noise about a strange light in the third district, it might be something to look into.”

“Pull it up, then,” Bruce says.

“Yeah,” Tim answers. He pulls up the grainy CCTV footage, speeding through the footage to find something of interest, and once he saw the bright light he scrubbed back a few minutes, and the figure centered in it was unmistakable. They watched as Damian ran around the area, asking random people who happened to be passing by, and whatnot, then a stranger walked up to him and inaudibly told him something. Whatever he said, Damian listened carefully, before the stranger pulled out what looked similar to a pocket watch. Damian watched the pendulum move from side to side before falling to the ground. The stranger lifted him and disappeared into the alley, a bright light emitting from it, and the footage ended there.

“Shit… I should’ve known it was one of the three,” Steph frowns.

“Three?” Tim turns to her.

“You know… aliens, robots, or wizards? This has to be wizard, it’s written all over it,” she says.

“Damian was not kidnapped by wizards,” Tim drags a tired hand down his face.

“Holy shit, Damian was kidnapped by wizards?!” Jason looks up from his phone and then it was Bruce’s turn to sigh, but before the argument could continue, then a notification pings on the batcomputer and Tim was quick to navigate to it.

“Whoa… what’s that?” Jason looks at the picture on the screen.

“I think (Y/N) left it behind, I found it on her seat after I woke up,” Tim skims through the report. “Damn… no matches.”

“Looks like it belongs to a wizard,” Steph whispers, and Cass snickers.

“Wait, try cross-referencing it with the CCTV from earlier,” Dick cuts in.

“You sure?” Tim asks.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he was holding a watch.”

“It could just be a pocket watch, you know?” Jason argues.

“Who the hell carries pocket watches in the 21st century?” Steph chides.

“It’s a match!” Tim nearly jumps from his seat.

“Shit, never mind then,” Jason shrugs and Tim pulls the pocketwatch from its spot on the console. He opens it quickly.

“Take a look inside of it, I noticed that the watch face looked too peculiar,” Tim tapped it and so far, no dice. There was no reaction or movement whatsoever. Inside the watch face was a series of concentric circles that were intersected by a number of hands that extended the length of each circle’s radii.

“Yeah… uh… maybe it also reads milliseconds,” Jason hums.

“I doubt that,” Tim grimaces.

“You guys really think it’s magic?” Dick asks.

“I’m thinking more of that it could be some complicated tech that neither of us understands yet,”

And so, operation Save Damian is a go.

2015

“So… how’s the new kid doing?” Steph asks. You, her, Cass, and Babs sat at a cafe table, you just wanting to eat your sandwich while the three of them were extra intent on hearing the drama from you firsthand.

“Damian’s doing good, stellar, actually, like… he’s probably one of the best Robins from the get-go,” you shrugged.

“Best Robin? That’s a loaded statement,” Steph chuckled.

“I did say from the get-go. But, to be fair, Damian’s raising situation was a little different than the others.”

“Right, the al Ghuls,” Steph says with an exaggerated tone.

“If you want to ask about Robin stuff you should ask the guys though, I’m not involved in that stuff,” you shook your head. “Like… Jesus, the kid’s only ten! I know it’s not my place to judge but… I kinda want to give him at least a bit of a childhood but he’s so…” you trailed, trying to find the right words to say.

“Bratty?” Steph asks.

“Rude?” Babs tries.

“Conceited?” Cass says before drinking her iced coffee.

“Those are a bit harsh,” you shook your head. You sighed and played with your straw for a bit. “Lonely. He seems very lonely,” you drank some of your drink, trying to ignore the hinted tension at the table now. “I don’t know… I mean, I get it, I do. He grew up to be an assassin, and he didn’t have time or the privilege to make friends, I don’t have the full story so I can’t assume, I just want him to feel comfortable,” you rest your chin on your palm.

“Takes one to know one, huh?” Cass asks.

“Yeah,” you answered absently. Then, in the blink of an eye, you smiled and shook your head. “Not that I was lonely, you know? Obviously, I had all of you, my brothers, my mom, and Alfred so I had plenty of people, and you’re all so wonderful so… I just want Damian to see that too. I get why he doesn’t want to be close with me since I’m just ordinary, but I hope at least Dick gets through to him,” you said.

“Well, Dick has a way with people so I’m sure they’ll bond somehow,” Babs nods.

“Ordinary… you’ve never used that word before,” Cass taps a finger on the table and you shook your head.

“It’s no big deal, it’s just the truth,” you shrugged. “When I first met Damian he said something interesting to me, actually,” you adjusted yourself so you were more comfortable on the metal chairs, “he brought up how our dad is Bruce Wayne, then he brought up how my mom is Selina Kyle, and he asked me why I settled to be ordinary when I could’ve been extraordinary.”

“Yeah, sis, he’s just a brat,” Steph deadpans.

“Hey now,” you shot a pointed look at her and she shrugs. “Anyway, I got to thinking about it over with Tim—”

“Aw, hell, Tim! Shit, how’d he take the news?” Steph asks. You shook your head.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but not well. Wait for him to talk to you about it though,” you told her. “But back on topic… I discussed it with Tim and he told me that of all of us, I was the most important member,” you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t buy it at first but…” you took a deep breath. “Every super family needs a civilian, right?” You finally said. Cass reached over and held your hand in hers, squeezing it with some amount of reassurance.

“You are so much more than just an ordinary civilian, (Y/N),” Steph says. “You’re our sister, through and through. Not just anyone can shut Jason up the way you do,” she adds with a short laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure Damian is hurting right now, he needs time to open up,” Cass says.

“He’s an interesting boy, he’s so mission-driven that it surprises me,” Babs sighs.

“Dad thinks that me taking him out is a waste,” you sighed.

“Bruce said that?” Babs masks her surprise.

“He said it in a very Bruce Wayne way, you know? I told him I’d be taking Damian with me somewhere and he would hit me with the “Again?” and ugh it just makes me angry,” you grumbled.

“Well, he was never able to control you either, so there’s probably not much he could do to stop you,” Steph says.

“Like he’d try,” you leaned back against the chair and stole a glance at your watch. “I should head back to the manor, I still have assignments,” you sighed.

“Oh, need a ride? Let’s share an Uber,” Babs says.

“Sure, yeah, how about you two?”

“I have to go on patrol,” Steph says.

“Ditto,” Cass readjusts her scarf and you nod.

“Good luck, then, stay safe,” you gave the both of them hugs before following Barbra.

“You know, (Y/N),” Barbara spoke up when you were a good distance away, “I think what you’re doing for Damian is good,” she says.

“What am I doing?”

“Giving him a chance,” she says. “You’re right, he’s still a child, even though he acts so mature, sometimes I hear a sliver of the child he is and it reminds me that normally he wouldn’t be handling these kinds of missions,” she says.

“Yeah, I always worry about him,” you shake your head.

“(Y/N), about what Tim said, he’s right, you know. You keep us in touch with our human side, I know sometimes you feel left out when you walk into our meetings, but you are an instrumental member of our family,” she continues. “Remember that, (Y/N).”

“I know, I know,” you nodded. You’d known ever since you renounced the vigilante business. The looks you got from everyone were just different, and the looks you got from people after were just as bad.

“Thirsty? You should drink something,” you pulled out two discs from your pocket while you and Damian walked along the castle halls. Holding the discs close together, you firmly grasped onto the handles and twisted them to open and, as you separated the discs, water gathered between them.

“Whoa…” he observes it and you hand it to him. “How do I drink this?”

“You can hold it with one hand,” you chuckled and reached over, pulling out a small sphere of water and popping it into your mouth. “We have actual water bottles, but it’s just easier to carry that around,” you said.

“Is this magic?” He copies you and pulls a small sphere of water from the middle before drinking it.

“Yup, Alex brought it from somewhere,” you answered while Damian handed the device back to you. You resealed it and put it away. “Now, today’s the entrance practical for new knights, I gotta admit that we lucked out there. Like I said earlier, I’m pretty sure you’ll pass with flying colors,” you turned him down a hallway.

“What should I expect?”

“It’s divided into two exams. The first is an obstacle course, you have to get through it within ten minutes. The second is a mock hunt, you’ll have to fight and capture a beginner-level beast,” you say. “Easy, for you, trust.” You both walked out into the training grounds, Damian shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight while he looked around seeing knights of various backgrounds roam around. “See that building over there? The one with the green banner on it? That’s for you and the other examinees, go ahead and make yourself comfortable there for now while I meet with the others to prep the course, and, oh! One more thing Dami!”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to the other kids, okay? Not everyone's as cool as you.” You urged him forward and you waited for him to reach the practice house before taking off yourself.

Damian opened the door cautiously, seeing boys and girls similar to his age all talking amongst themselves and preparing for the exam.

“So the rumors are true, they let in a homeschooler?” One of the boys snarked. Damian turns to him, unamused. “Guess what, mountain boy, this exam isn’t for bumpkins like you,” he sneers.

“Oh, leave him alone, Hugo!” One of the girls grimaces. “Here, new kid, come sit with us,” she waves Damian over to a table with a few others and, remembering your words, obliges. “I’m Retta,” she introduces herself.

“Damian,” he sits next to her.

“I’m Niers!” The platinum blond boy next to him is next.

“My name’s Luciana,” the tanned girl goes next.

“And I’m Lowen,” the last boy introduces himself.

“So, is it true? You didn’t go to any of the academies?” Niers asks. Damian nods.

“Yeah, I trained… in the mountains,” he holds back a groan. Maybe you didn’t change at all, your lies were still obvious.

“That’s so crazy, I always forget there’s a whole village up there,” Niers hums. “Shoot, so you don’t know what to expect, huh?”

“I have an idea,” Damian eyes the tarts that Retta stacks on his plate.

“Eat them, they’re good for you. They have some mild stamina enhancers in them,” she smiles.

“I mean, we’ve kinda always known what the exam has,” Luciana mutters. “Lowen and I have siblings in the Knighthood already,” she says.

“Really?” Well, that’s a coincidence.

“Yeah, my older brother’s Aldryn,” Lowen says it with a slight hint of disdain. “Luci's are the twins in lab coats.”

“My older siblings! Marion'll be at the test today too, I’m so nervous,” she chews on the inside of her lip and Retta places a cookie on her plate.

“For the nerves,” she says. “No worries though, depending on how you fail you get a retest,” Retta explains.

“Is it really that difficult?” Damian asks.

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Niers shudders. “But… all of this for one reason!” He says. The four teens put their hands in the center and a blazing determination appears in their gazes. They glance at Damian, waiting for him to join in and, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he does so.

“To meet the Captain Wayne in the flesh!” Luciana says. Damian is taken aback for a moment.

“To meet the Captain Wayne!” The other three announce. What are the odds he gets sucked into his sister’s fan club?

‘Good grief…’ he could feel his battery draining already.

“Examinees, to the exam field,” Nixon walks in holding a clipboard. He eyes Damian but makes no other attempts at acknowledgment before leaving.

“That’s our cue! Follow us, Damian, we help each other out in this group!” Retta smiles.

“And who said I was in this group?”

“We all did now go!” Niers pushes everyone forward.

Damian listened in on all the conversations on their way to the site, trying to get a general idea of what awaited him. He’d heard many different things, but if one detail was certain, it was that the beast at the end was what they called a ‘Hamig’ whatever that was. You had mentioned to him that it was a beginner-level beast, but he still remained on his guard.

But when he saw the test site, he had to hold back a laugh. And when he spotted you walking toward the group, the eye contact alone almost made you both laugh.

You were right. This was child’s play.

“Students of the 28th class, today is your practical exam to join the Knighthood. My name is Captain (Y/N) Wayne and I oversee all the affairs of the Knighthood and the Brigade. Today myself, Nixon Jones, and Carter Adara will be observing your exams and grading you. You will know if you passed or failed as soon as you complete the exam and you are allowed one retest and one only. If you fail both of those, you will be held back to the next class practical which will happen exactly a year from now. We will be conducting the first exam now, then we’ll have a break, and finally the second part. Don’t let your guard down, and impress us. Your rankings will be given to you today as well,” you instructed. “So, who’s first?” You looked among the crowd. Damian crossed his arms, the first rule of undercover was easy, don’t stand out. He would have to observe the general skill level of everyone first just in case. “Ah, a volunteer already! Let’s see if I’m remembering correctly, Hugo Gardner?” You asked. Damian’s gaze moved over to the boy who pushed his way forward.

“That’s me, I’m glad you remember,” his bravado’s unmatched.

“Right, hard to forget you,” you smiled.

“This is Hugo’s fourth time retaking the practical,” Lowen says quietly, and Damian fights back a snort. This was the kid who tried to demean him? He couldn’t wait to see him fail the course.

And fail he did. Landing face first into the mud below because he didn’t gauge how far the next platform was.

“Gardner, back to the group, you’ll be retesting after everyone completes their exam,” Carter says.

“Whatever,” Hugo spats. “See that, mountain boy?! If I could barely get through it you could kiss this title goodbye!” He laughs. Damian glares at him and you shook your head. Not yet, it was a reminder.

Then, students came and went, students passed, and students failed, and, finally, that left Damian. He had looked over everyone’s abilities enough that he could replicate it to avoid attention, he didn’t want to make this more difficult for you, at least. He had heard a range of different times already, he’d heard eight minutes, nine minutes, eleven minutes, and more and less. The best time right now was five minutes and forty-two seconds. He could complete this in two, but he knew he shouldn’t, don’t draw attention.

“You can still drop out, mountain hobo!” Hugo’s insults were obviously forced.

Aw, whatever, Damian couldn’t resist a chance to show off against people like that. So, he stood at the starting line, and once you had blown the whistle, he took off.

The first course was simple, climbing. One jump and a strategically planned landing point had him at the top in seconds. Then, where Gardner failed, the jump to the next platform. Easy, Damian didn’t have to think of it. The next section was a series of spinning columns with various protrusions, and this one took out a lot of the cohort already, but, again, easy. The trick was to see the pattern before running in, and he’d seen it so many times already. The final part stretched over a small body of water with various buoys set up. There were many strategies for this one, such that he’d seen, either use momentum at each buoy or use them as floaters. Damian decided to do neither of those and used them as platforms instead, moving with ease among each and landing at the finish line.

“Two minutes,” Nixon clicks the stopwatch, and surprised gasps and cheers followed.

“That was crazy, Damian! Why didn’t you tell us you were that good?” Niers compliments him. “Shoot, now I feel kinda embarrassed, you’re a pro!”

“We worried for no reason,” Luci's shoulders relaxed.

“Hey, check out Hugo,” Lowen grins. Hugo had begun his retest, standing at the top of the climbing tower and staring at the platform. Be good, Damian thought of those words again. After years of living with his father, of being good, maybe this new Earth was a chance to try anew.

“Hey, Gardner!” Damian shouts. Hugo glares at him. “Focus on the platform before you jump, trust your instincts! If you’d been training for this, then you can handle it,” Damian instructs. Hugo takes a deep breath and, assumably, follows Damian’s instructions and successfully lands on the platform.

“Shouldn’t we call that out,” Nixon nudges you.

“No, I don’t think I can handle watching Hugo come in another year, he’s been working hard for this. Teamwork and trust are also tenets we emphasize,” you say. You watched Hugo continue through the course with difficulty and, once he’d reached the finish, Nixon checked the stopwatch.

“Eight minutes and seven seconds,” he calls, “congrats, Hugo, you advance to the final test,” he says. Hugo stands for a moment, catching his breath, when tears finally slipped down and his friends rushed over to him, all congratulating him on his achievement.

“You did good, kid,” you nudged Damian with your clipboard and he shrugs it off.

“Whatever…” he says. You slipped a lunch bag in his hand.

“So, let’s take a break, then we’ll complete today’s exam. Everyone who didn’t pass, don’t take it to heart, use this as a learning experience to prepare for the next exam. And those who did pass, don’t let it get to your head, the second exam is much harder,” you announced, walking past Damian as if nothing had happened.

“Damian! Come over here!” Retta calls him over again and he follows while he opened the paper bag and spotted the salad and fruits inside, and beneath it a wrapped veggie burger. Then, as he sat down, Damian felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and, if memory served him right, then your note should be sandwiched under the fruits and bingo. He reads the note in the bag, keeping his privacy about himself as he does so.

‘Why did P stick with J? Because P is butter with J! - Big Sis’ There is no Earth where that would have been funny. But, call it instinct, he flipped the note over and lo and behold, the actual message.

‘Hey Dami, the lunch they’re serving is boar roast and, obviously, you can’t eat that, so I had my assistant run and grab you these. They might taste a little different than what you’re used to, though, just keep an open mind.’

Keep an open mind? Damian pulled the salad out, eyeing the purple lettuce and pink spinach.

Oh.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you walked straight forward, stopping in front of the cage with the beast inside, still standing, and still looming, but still silent. You looked at it carefully, going over all the details with a new understanding.

“Hello, old friend,” you crossed your arms and the beast seemed to bow its head. Unable to speak, it raises it now, exposing the dog tags melted into its fur. You looked at the protective circles around it, stepping through them carefully to approach the cage and, just barely, you could just barely make out the name on it.

‘CK - 78’ was engraved on it. Whoever this was, they weren’t part of the Knighthood.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are,” you backed away from the cage and the beast whimpered, lowering to the ground and lying there peacefully.

“Captain,” you look over your shoulder and watch the two twin scientists enter.

“That’s the most relaxed it’s been,” Inigo speaks up.

“All day, every day, that thing snarls at me and snaps at whoever nears it. It likes you, Cap, I don’t know why though,” Marion shakes her head.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Mary,” you lied. Again, you looked at the beast, who watched you with one eye.

“Pitiful creature, if we weren’t studying it then I would’ve put it out of his misery,” Inigo shoves his hands into his lab coat pockets. “So, what can we help you with, Cap?”

“Just looking, there’s something that’s been bothering me since the last attack,” you crossed your arms. “The report said that this beast displayed an unparalleled strength, and after dealing with similar variants I can confirm that,” you looked over the beast again.

“We’ve been trying to heal the wounds too,” Marion says, “it won’t let us get close.”

“The beast is guarded, most wild beasts are,” you nodded. “Well, keep up the good work, it’s about time I proctored the second exam,” you looked at your watch.

“Damn, that time of the year already? Cut 'em some slack, Cap.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved your hand and left the room, hearing the beast stand up behind you with sounds of metal hitting the cage to prove it.

Not Your Classic Vigilante: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnack @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc

#dc #batman #batfamily #batfam #batsis #batsis fics #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily scenarios #batfamily x reader #batsis!reader #batfam fics #batfamily fics #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #my writings #nycv

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the-tmnt-ficfinder · 2 months ago

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Ficfinder finds: by touch, by sight

Rottmnt Fanfic Summary: In which time dilation ruins everything. In which ten minutes on Staten Island translates to months in the Prison Dimension. In which Leo comes back, but he comes back wrong. In which there's nothing for their weird, traumatized little sewer family to do but take care of one another.

by touch, by sight: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is written by @story-monger! This fanfic is unfinished, and still updating, so as the fic updates, the post will too!

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Plot is five out of five!! The plot for by touch, by sight, is riveting, and very engaging!! As the author stated in the beginning notes, the story itself is inspired by @cupcakeslushie's Feral Leo Au (which is a comic series that can be found here). By touch, by sight is another version of a Feral Leo Au, told from a different authors perspective! ^^"

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Suspense/Mystery is four out of five!! In the beginning, there is much more suspense and mystery as Leo is healing, and the family is looking out for him. Then as the story evolves, the suspense shifts into a new setting. The suspense in this story, greatly revolves around Leo, and his mental states."

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Angst/Hurt is five out of five!! As this is a Feral Leo Au, this story is practically built upon angst and hurt!! This fic contains emotional angst, physical angst, medical angst, and plenty of trauma!!"

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is four out of five!! This fic has a good blend of hurt and comfort all throughout it. While Leo is struggling, his family is there to help as much as they can, offering support, and kindness to him."

Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is two out of five!! While this fic does go into some traumatic things, nothing is incredibly graphic nor disturbing. This fic won't mess with your head or psyche much, and instead will just effect your emotions."

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Drama/Tension Level is three out of five!! The drama and tension between the family is mostly triggered by Leo's inability to communicate, and the family not knowing what to do. This fic has some tension between the brothers concerning Leo's stay in the prison dimension."

Triggers: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Triggers are three out of five!! By touch, by sight has some darker themes in it, though nothing shown is very graphic. I'd say this fic has a good balance between just enough angst to make to appealing, while not so much as to be overwhelming. Make sure to check the authors notes on each chapter for a TW and read the tags just to stay safe!!"

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Reading) is five out of five!! The writing is easy to follow, and has no difficult to read fonts or special effects."

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Audio) is five out of five!! I have listened to each of the chapters in audio book form so far, and they have all be wonderfully compatible!! This fic works well for reading, and listening to!!"

Length: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Length is two out of five!! Currently, by touch, by sight has a chapter count of 20+ chapters, though that may end up changing."

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

by touch, by sight: Chapter List

(Chapters will be added as I rate and appraise them ^^)

(Yet to be added)

#tmntficfinder #ficfinder #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfic #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt post invasion #ficfinder finds by touch by sight #by touch by sight #feral leo #feral leo au

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runningupthatvecna · 2 years ago

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the law of seat partners | part 3

part 1 | part 2

a/n: ok this chapter is honestly a wild ride from start to finish, really had to look into google maps to get the geographics right here, sorry if it's a bit inaccurate, the dimensions in the us are a bit difficult to grasp for my european brain lol. same goes for the bus interior and the structure of road houses. also this is gonna be super self-indulgent since i keep picturing eddie as someone with this wholesome, kind and super soft stray dog side of personality that you only get to see once you break through his shell and i'm basically just romanticising the shit out of him in this entire story. also i apologize if the whole part is a bit random, it's just that i didn't plan for this thing to even have more than one part lol. anyway, thanks for reading and please leave me comments and reblogs if you're enjoying this little series! there will be a part 4.

summary: you're still on that damn bus with eddie. he plays you some of his favourite songs and they turn out to sound really familiar. when you do finally arrive at the camp, you find yourself spending even more time with your favourite metalhead and he makes it just a bit more clear that he might really like you back. and yeah, everyone around you already seems to know.

cw/tw: first off i want to clarify that eddie and reader both are at least twenty! slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers overall, (brief) allusions to +18 adult content (minors go away!), sexual tension, lots of physical touch, reader being self-conscious, angst, not feeling good enough briefly, a bit of self-sabotage if you squint, a few more pet names, bestfriend!Steve being reader's rock once again, reassurance, eddie not committing a crime, no mention of y/n, no mentions of reader's physical attributes except hair.

-----

Lunch break acted as a reminder that the rest of your friends were also still there.

That's how lost you were getting with Eddie Munson and your legs in his lap.

The gang was once again standing in a kind of circle shaped form outside on the parking lot next to the bus. You had passed Chicago already a while ago and the blue sky hadn't exactly followed you to Wisconsin, but thankfully it wasn't raining either.

Without even thinking about it you had taken the position between Eddie and Steve.

Jonathan and Nancy were standing opposite of you, the former holding his beloved pentax in his hands, it dangling from his shoulder on a strap being the guy's default. Always ready to press the shutter, just so now.

Steve groaned a little, complaining about how his hair just wasn't looking good enough to be in a photo right now, but no one cared. As someone who loved taking photos – probably even more than the Byers boy – it was in fact one of your pet peeves whenever someone complained about having their photo taken. In your book, photos depicted memories. Why wouldn't you want to be in them?

"You gonna fill that film up today, Jon?", you asked with a grin, and the photographer just nodded.

"Alright, now that we caught Steve's mesmerizing beauty on film, anyone wanna go grab a bite?", Robin asked into the round while shifting her weight continuously from her toes to her heels and back, trying her best not to sound too desperate to get something between her teeth.

"Oh shit yeah, I'm dying", Steve replied after a quick yawn and stretch and the three freshmen boys agreed with heavy nods and exclamations of the words yes and finally.

Their boyish eagerness made Nancy chuckle just a little, and she continued by taking the hand of the older Byers boy and pulling him along with her, leading the way to the building for the rest of you.

Jonathan kept turning around every few meters to just take candids of everyone, trying to fill up the roll of film just so he could reload once you guys would arrive at the camp.

Everyone in the gang seemed to be willing to at least check out the offers from the shop, and like, get a slushie or something.

"M'lady?"

Eddie had squinted one of his eyes shut looking at you while holding his arm out for you to hold onto it, just so you both could follow the group.

"Oh, thank you good sir."

He was just a little taller than you, which made walking with your arm hooked into his quite comfortable.

You threw the knowing smile of his towards you right back at him.

And while you were following the rest of your friends, he leaned in to talk to you. Even more.

"Quite rude of Ms Kelley to interrupt our sacred listening session like that. I guess she just doesn't seem to value a good tune, huh?"

"We didn't even start the tape, Eddie."

"But we already had headphones on so we were about to, that still counts."

He poked a finger into your side while walking, trying to stop you from bringing another absolutely valid and logical argument to his silly remark, making you squeak and jump to the side a little instead, letting go of his arm.

You only could see Steve's head turn towards you, having heard your exclamation of surprise. More of his reaction was kept hidden from you though, since Eddie had decided to continue poking, so you were left with no choice but to run, giggling like a toddler.

"Eddieeee, stoooop", you yelled in a higher pitch than your normal voice, trying and failing miserably at the attempt to hide between Robin, Will and Lucas.

You could hear your friends laugh, the sight must have been hilarious.

There was no escaping Eddie the freak Munson.

You had almost reached the motion sensor of the front door when he grabbed you by the waist, pulled your back flush against his front and apparently felt no hesitation encasing you in his arms entirely. He let out a short, low hum at the feeling and it sent a shiver straight through you.

You were slowly getting warm at the frequency you were having physical contact with him, but having so much of his body touching yours in this way did not leave you unaffected in the slightest.

His embrace made your heartbeat speed up, but it also transported this really comforting, almost soothing wave of feeling protected.

And it had you yearning for him. And it was essentially confusing you.

"Say that I'm right", you heard his deep voice mumble, the side of his head pressed lightly against yours.

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. The way he smelled. The way he held you tight.

Yeah, bye.

"Huh?"

You wanted your voice to sound equally low to his, but it didn't come out quite as such.

"Ms Kelley disrespects the law."

He couldn't be serious.

"Eddieeeeee!", you laughed at his silliness and the great amount of dramatics he put into his persistence with referring to his law of seat partners rule joke thing.

The long haired boy let go of you since the others had caught up. You just saw him grin at you, before Steve swung an arm around his shoulders, pulling his best friend through the sliding doors, while you felt Max grab your hand.

The road house your teachers had decided to stop at consisted of a restaurant, bathrooms of course and a small convenience store, the latter being the destination of Max and you, while the others ventured out into the restaurant, trying to find something warm and edible to stuff themselves with before they would join the both of you.

"Are you having a good time? With him, I mean", Max dropped at you, slowly strolling through the aisles of products that ranged from sweets over car supplies to toothpaste.

The widest grin was plastered over her face as she eyed you curiously.

The question surprised you a little. And maybe you hadn't really been aware of your surroundings for the last few hours, for obvious reasons.

"Hm? Oh yeah, he's being so sweet", you replied to your friend, "not sure what's gotten into him today though, he's never been like this."

Max gave you a questioning look, clearly asking you to elaborate.

"I don't know, I mean he's always throwing arms around me and stuff, but this, I don't know, this feels different", you continued, not being able to meet her eye, "I mean, he's always nice to me when we're around each other, but he seems so much m–"

"He likes you."

Max interrupted your sentence.

"What?"

"It's so fucking obvious. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I mean, yeah sure you had taken notice of the way he had been gazing at you with his baby cow eyes all day today. Actually, ever since he met you all those months ago, now that you're thinking about it. But why would you read anything into that?

You felt warmth spreading over your cheeks.

Did Eddie Munson really like you? Like that?

"He's just being nice, Max."

Only now you shot her a look, trying to tell her what you were too self-conscious, even anxious about to say out loud.

Guys never really seemed to see you as someone they could like. You were so used to the vast majority of them treating you as one of their bros, if they even treated you like anything at all, so when there was someone showing interest in you in other ways, it freaked the living hell out of you. To the point of denying yourself something potentially nice. Or more like, someone nice.

"Just nice? He is never that nice to me! I think you're just way too much in your head about this. You know you like him. And he likes you back, it's crystal clear to me, in fact, to all of us."

Wait. All of them? Had he talked to anyone about you?

Now you were the one giving her the questioning look, and before you could say anything, Robin popped up next to the both of you with a pair of wide eyes along with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, what are we buying, hm? I need more cookies, Steve and Jonathan ate all of them already", she informed you, walking off to find her restock of baked sweets, just as quickly as she had appeared.

You giggled lightly at the similarity of her and your snack situation.

Max only gave you a grin and a wink through her sky blue eyes before following Robin to the cookie section. The boys and Nancy returned from their feast not long after and you had tried your best to bring your focus to the task at hand: finding something snackable that wasn't too much of an overload, but also essential for the remaining time on the road.

Steve grabbed and pulled you away from the others on the way outside, back to the bus. The thirty minutes were almost over and no one wanted to risk being left in the middle of nowhere aka Bumfuck, Wisconsin, nor having a search party consisting of Ms Kelley and Mr Clarke out roaming the area.

"Hey there", Steve looked at you while walking by your side and throwing an arm around you.

He truly was your best friend and so you just happened to know everything about each other's lives. He had always been your rock throughout high school and mainly responsible for having you be part of the gang. He knew about your issues and always tried to give you advice.

You let your arm sneak around Steve's back, around the height of his waist.

"Everything alright with you, honey?"

You glanced up at him just nodding and he shot you a knowing look, before turning his head around to wink at someone.

The grin on his face widened before turning his attention back to you.

"Uh yeah, I'm having a good time, thanks for checking on me", you replied to him while holding onto the box of chocolates you had ended up buying.

"Munson treating you right I hope, yeah?", Steve inquired further.

You could feel your heart jump a little at the mention of Eddie's name. What you also could feel was the eyes of the long wavy haired boy on your back. He had run after Dustin who had pinched his ass on the way out and you just assumed they were a bit further behind you and Steve.

"A bit more than usual, yeah. I don't really understand why, though. Max said he likes me? But–"

A little frown now covered Steve's lightly freckled face.

You stopped. He stopped. And kept his arm around you. And then you sighed, when his big brown eyes found yours and the way he looked at you changed into a worried brow furrow.

"I think I'm terrified, Steve. I don't know how to behave around him seriously and I don't know how to handle all the affection. That's all so new and I don't want to disappoint him because he deserves someone who's able to give him everything he wants and he's already making himself vulnerable by letting someone in close like that and what if he's gonna realise that I'm just really weird for not being used to–"

"Hey, hey sweetheart, slow down", Steve put a stop to your little ramble, a soft tone to his voice, "you're overthinking. You like him, isn't that right?"

You just looked up at him, almost a bit teary eyed since you were realising a lot of things at the moment, and dealing with your own insecurities and issues was just not easy. Especially in a situation where you couldn't retreat or flee.

And then you nodded.

Steves frown shifted into a grin.

"Then there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Eddie right there is probably genuinely surprised that you're not shying or running away from him, like everyone else. Just look."

Steve pointed in Eddie's direction which made you turn your head. Next thing you saw was the metalhead chasing after Dustin again, both of them running through the group trying not to bump into anyone, all the way over the expanse of the parking lot like two headless chickens, his dark mane flowing in the wind which carried the laughter and giggles of the whole group over to you.

The sight made you laugh a little.

"I mean, not that he really ever tried to get close to someone, like, he doesn't have to try for people to be sort of intimidated and even scared off by him, but that's besides the point. Anyway, I just know for a fact that you could never disappoint him. I'm very sure he's gonna be fine adapting himself to your pace", Steve explained and then paused to take a deep breath.

"It's up to you of course, but I'd just hate to see you get in your own way just because you're too much in your own pretty, little head."

You had snapped your head around again, and Steve lovingly ruffled your hair a little, the way he always did when he tried to tell you that he'd always be there for you and the situation you'd found yourself in would turn out just fine.

You would be just fine.

Deep down you knew Steve was right.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You know how I can get sometimes", you replied to him, reciprocating the same look Steve was now giving you. The depth in his brown eyes was radiating warmth and it helped you calm down your racing thoughts. Steve had known Eddie for a bit longer and was closer with him in general, which was one of your reasons to believe the words of your best friend. In this moment at least.

-----

It was time for the tape.

You took off your shoes again and pulled your legs up to rest your feet on the barrier, this time right in front of you, facing more towards the window.

The boy next to you was still trying to catch his breath from shaking off some energy, pulling a squished paper bag with greasy spots out of the back pocket of his jeans and placing it on his lap, before he lost the vest and leather jacket. He then proceeded to sit down, take both of your headphones and held yours out to you.

"Alright, unlike Ms Kelley, let's obey the law again, huh?"

He let out a deep chuckle when you nodded with a smile.

"Oh hey, and I got you some extra fries, just in case you get hungry."

He handed the small paper bag to you.

Did he just carry fries in his ass pocket?

The thought made you snort.

Oh Munson.

"Did you pay for them?"

"Yeah of course I did. Is that all you think of me, sweetheart?"

There they were again. His dark brown doe eyes blinking at you all sweet, the purest form of Eddie he was willing to show you in this moment.

He was clearly letting you in. Showing himself to you. Letting you read his eyes, hoping you would take the hint which he secretly was yet too insecure to speak out.

He was the town's freak after all and getting his hopes up had never really turned out too positive for him. It had painfully taught him to better keep everyone at a distance.

It took every little ounce of willpower that you could find in yourself to not melt into a puddle, right there in that seat.

And if that wasn't enough already – him being thoughtful enough to think of you while devouring his own lunch – he pressed play on your walkman, before you could give him any sort of response to the fries situation.

The fact that the opening chords of Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears now filled your ears, your absolute favourite song, was sending you into another dimension.

How did he know your favourite fucking song? Did he ask Steve? He must have asked Steve.

He had asked Steve specifically about your music taste.

So many thoughts were flooding your brain at the same time, you were having trouble catching up.

The boy next to you just grinned at your visibly delighted reaction. And then he leaned in a little and you felt the heat once again rise to your cheeks.

"Is that good, that's a real good song, yeah?", you heard him ask, a very light sultry tone to his voice, after you quickly pushed one of your headphones behind your ear.

"Yes Eddie, immaculate choice right there", you praised him in a similar tone, before giving him a genuine giggle, unable to hide the way he was undeniably making you all flustered and earning another warm chuckle from him in return.

The way his cheeks turned into a beautiful shade of rose almost made your heart combust in your ribcage. At this point he was practically beaming with pride, reveling in the fact that he had elicited praise out of you. And it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

You lightly nudged your shoulder into his, which made him lift his arm, a gesture for you to lean into his figure.

"Come here, you."

That head of yours landed on his shoulder and you let him drape his arm over your torso like a seatbelt. A (still very) warm hand was placed between your waist and hip and you were pretty convinced it was going to burn a big hole right through the fabric of your shirt.

He just had to touch you, right?

His boldness however gave you enough of a confidence boost to return the gesture. At this point you needed to tell him, too. Make him feel the burn on his own skin. So you just hugged his arm, pulling it close and nuzzling the side of your face into the soft fabric of his hellfire shirt covering the skin between bicep and shoulder.

With every song you went on listening to, it became more clear than ever that Eddie Munson must really have gone all the way to Steve Harrington's house to ask him for a list of your favourite songs. Which he could then put on a mixtape. For you.

That's what you do for friends, right?

Yeah, right.

For a few songs you both just sat there in utter peace as you watched the landscape outside the window pass by. The wide plains of Wisconsin, fields of crops, forests, small gatherings of houses, farms, barns and horses and cows and sheep. The sky was slowly losing its light grey cover, which had you anticipating an actually nice sunset later.

He had leaned his head against yours, which made his warm breath trickle down the side of your neck down to your collarbone. And you had felt the goosebumps spread all over your arms underneath your longsleeve.

You were feeding off of the warmth radiating from Eddie's body once again, and the ringed hand on your waist had started rubbing up and down softly and slowly.

When Eddie felt you leaning more of your weight into his side, you could hear him let out a satisfied little sigh.

Every second of this part of your little road trip, whenever he tried to search for some form of physical closeness, felt like a fever dream.

And you didn't want to wake up just yet. How about never?

-----

Golden hour announced itself by coating the trees of the forest, the earthy paths for walking, the accumulation of dark wooden cabins and the water on the vast lake in gradients of yellow and orange.

Said lake would look more like the sea to you, it made little waves that were lightly crashing onto the shore of a small beach of a bay around which the camp was located, and it was so vast in fact that you were unable to see the opposing shore on the horizon.

You had just woken up from another nap which you had slipped into after one, two, you actually don't know how many hours of watching the endless fields and forests pass by through half-closed eyelids. Listening to The Romantics, New Order, Fleetwood Mac, The Cure, Genesis and of course Metallica, on Eddie's account.

Still surrounded by the warmth of his body, still tucked in between torso and arm. His hand however had sneakily breached an invisible barrier, now resting comfortably beneath the hem of your shirt on the skin of your waist. You didn't dare to check, but the hole in your shirt was certainly there now, burned through.

Even Ms Kelley's announcement of your arrival didn't bother any of you to move or shift positions. Or god forbid, separate your bodies.

You only slightly turned your head to watch Mr Clarke leave the bus in the corner of your eye, probably to head into the administration office of the camp with the intention to make your arrival known to the staff and to pick up keys for about 40 students.

From what they had told you pre-trip, you were gonna be sharing a cabin with Nancy, Robin and Max, since the plan foresaw keeping the middle schoolers separate from the older kids. And of course there couldn't be any cabins accommodating groups of mixed genders.

Which is precisely why Eddie was going to share his cabin with Jonathan, Steve and Dustin, while Lucas and Will had the honours to be joined in theirs by Gareth and Jeff.

Before letting you go to take the headphones off and gather all your things, Eddie's grip on your waist tightened a bit as he pulled you minimally closer for just two seconds, the vibration of his chest against your back telling you that he was humming softly.

You already missed him, and you hadn't even left the bus yet.

The structure of the camp was simple. There were ten cabins, each of them intended to accommodate up to four people comfortably. A row of them was spread out along the shore of the lake directly by the water. Another row spread out further towards the forest. Both separated by the same earthy pathway stretching and winding itself through the entire place, connecting the cabins to the rest of the camp. There were little houses with sanitary facilities not too far from the cabins, a little square with lots of seating opportunities intended for bonfires, barbecue and other gatherings, the office house, the beach further down the path past the cabins, and a pergola kinda situation with benches for mealtime and a corner with outdoor couches and further more cozy seating.

The cabin you were designated to spend your next 6 nights in was one of those directly by the water. Excitement spread through you at the thought of falling asleep to the peaceful sound of the lake water lightly hitting the shore at night and cicadas singing their songs after sunset. Frogs croaking and birds chirping away. The ambient background noise of a forest by the lake.

You had always been a dreamer.

"Top one's mine!", Robin exclaimed as she was the first one of you to enter, throwing her bag onto one of the top beds that were part of two bunks standing opposite of each other in each corner, a window with light beige and pastel floral curtains separating them.

You were loving the rustic atmosphere. The log aesthetic gave off the biggest summer cottage vibes, so taking in the interior of your small home for the next few days made you smile.

There were two closets with multiple drawers, enough space for accommodating clothing of four people.

The bag hanging from your shoulder landed on the bed below Robin's, while the other two silently agreed on Max above, Nancy on the same level as you.

The beds themselves were about the standard bunk bed size, nothing too fancy, but of course all wooden, fresh bedsheets folded into a neat pile along with a towel decorating the mattress.

While you were getting to making your bed (you knew that you'd thank yourself later), your mind started wondering if you could fit maybe even two people in there. For science, of course.

All of you had agreed to meet at the fireplace once everyone had dropped off their stuff, and when you and the girls arrived there, six pairs of eyes were already awaiting you.

The boys had probably just messily thrown their belongings onto their respective beds, not giving a flying fuck about pulling the covers over the duvets or maybe even taking power naps after the journey.

So yeah, night number one ended with all of you sitting by the fire that Mr Clarke and some guy from the staff team had set up. Conversations about everyone's most anticipated activities that were planned and scheduled for this week were held, your friends' former earth and science teacher telling stories about his first time field tripping back in the day.

Once again you were sat between Steve and Eddie, the metalhead's leather jacket around your shoulders, because he had insisted you'd take it. A sly grin on his face directed at you at the gesture, before turning his attention to the mutual best friend on your other side.

The younger kids had been tucked in by Ms Kelley already, since their curfew had been set to 9pm. Yours was at eleven.

You admired the multiple strings of fairy lights that had been hung into the lower maze of branches long ago, illuminating the earthy pathways throughout the whole camp to keep the kids from stumbling off into some bush or having to pull out flashlights.

At least until midnight, cause that's when the lights were going to be turned off.

-----

Your first full day at camp. The teachers had taken the whole group to a hike through the forest and up the hill at the end of the bay, overviewing the stunning scenery and you had taken a few moments away from everyone to take in the enormousness of the vision opening up in front of you.

Closing your eyes, you tried to wrap your head around the moment, taking a few deep breaths, feeling the freshness of the air surrounding you.

Slow down.

The sun made the deep blue of the sky reflect on the lake, a shimmer on the surface in the distance, sparse trees and bushes covering the top of the hill you were standing on, a bit separately from most kids.

The light brush of a hand against yours caused you to shoot open your eyes, jumping lightly at the sudden delicate yet profound touch.

"Uh, sorry I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I can also leave again if you want another moment to yourself?", you heard him say, an apologetic tone to his voice.

The rough facade now showed cracks.

Traces of softness, a great amount of empathy and hints of sensitivity were shining through them. He had always been a little more gentle with you than with everyone else in the group, but this telltale sign of trust he was instilling in you over the last hours? That was new.

So new. And so new to you.

Your head turned towards him, eyes squinting a bit because yeah, it was quite bright up there with almost no trees to throw shade, and of course clumsy you had forgotten your sunglasses on the little nightstand next to your bed.

"Eddie no, it's okay" was the only thing you managed to get out, brushing the back of his hand with the back of your index finger, in silent search for more contact, trying to support the words that had just come out of you.

It was just Eddie. You tried to remember Steve's words from lunch break yesterday. He's gonna be okay with adapting.

He turned his back on the sun, more towards you, and the light formed a halo around his head.

Given his reputation back in Hawkins, it looked hilariously absurd.

"Did you have a good first night?", you asked him then, in such a tone indicating your expectation of a sincere answer, while his shadow was covering half your face so you wouldn't have to stare into the late afternoon sun.

"More or less. You know how Steve snores", Eddie said before continuing his dramatic act, "plus, it was really lonely. I think there should be an additional paragraph in the law about an extension from bus seats to beds, you know? I think that would make a real difference and save me from eternal doom and misery."

He returned your previous gesture with his own index finger, his eyes finding yours, giving you a sheepish grin as your cheeks started imitating the colour of very ripe tomatoes.

Your entire body bloomed with electricity from just one light touch. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it was ridiculous.

Yes, there had already been touches that were way more direct than this, but there was something in the way and in the lightness of his touch now, that had your head spinning.

The lightness basically fuelled whatever this thing between the two of you was.

Ms Kelley's voice announcing the beginning of your descend ripped the both of you out of whatever moment you were having right there, and it sucked.

You could have stood there with him for the rest of eternity, if it meant being looked at by his warm, reassuring eyes, making you feel as if you were the center of the universe. It felt like his gaze was reaching the deepest corner of your soul.

And your brain started going 200 kilometers an hour, thinking about the allusion Eddie had just made. He was starting to consume your every thought at this point.

As a collective you managed to return to the deep green veils of the forest around an hour before sunset.

Slowly the day was coming to an end and since it had been a rather warm experience for everyone, the teachers had kindly granted you an evening dip in the lake.

High schoolers only though. Thank fuck.

Honestly, you probably would have gone for it anyway.

The beach included a small wooden pier leading into deeper water, which the boys delightedly acknowledged before using it to gracefully yeet themselves into the cold wet.

They also didn't deem it necessary to strip themselves of their clothes beforehand.

Too much enthusiasm and even more longing for relief from the day's heat and physical efforts. Who knew Michigan could be this warm already in May?

The girls and you had preferred to change into actual swimwear before joining the boys on the beach. A wise decision.

Because now you found yourself standing on the pier together with Nancy and Max, watching Robin follow Steve and dive in head first.

You were silently hoping the water was deep enough for her to not hit her head.

Next thing you saw approaching you on that pier was Eddie, dripping wet everything and soaked to the bone, some worn out jean shorts and dark blue Metallica shirt as well as his dark curls sticking to his skin like glue.

He left a trail of wet footsteps and sprinkles and splashes of water on the dry wood, grinning at you almost eerily and you threw him a similar glance back, because you knew he just wasn't anticipating your abilities to foresee the future when you jumped out of the way the second he started running towards you, trying to pull you into the water with him.

He landed face first, while everyone who had just witnessed that scene bursted into laughter, including you.

"You wish, Munson", you shouted at him and his poorly executed attempt once he had resurfaced, his appearance now reminding you of a wet poodle with his wet dark curls that were sticking to his reddened face, a piece of some green sweetwater plant decorating the top of his head.

You weren't ready to hit the water just yet, which is why Nancy and you decided to just plop down on the pier for a moment with crossed legs, while Max joined Robin and the boys.

Observing the scene happening in front of you, there were Dustin, Lucas and Jonathan, all of them fusioning their powers to swim after a screeching Will who was trying his best to escape being cruelly dunked by his brother and friends, Robin trying to stand on Steve's probably slippery shoulders while Eddie and Max were aiming for the same acrobatic performance.

Nancy next to you let out a chuckle at the sight before turning her head in your direction, "today was so nice, don't you think?"

With a nod you replied to her and leaned back on your arms behind you.

"Yeah it was beautiful! You just don't get those views in Hawkins."

"Yeah, absolutely not. The closest thing you're getting there is Lover's lake with a bunch of drunks fishing in their tiny boats, and that's about it", she paused, "are you in with us for the flower crowns tomorrow?"

Midsummer was still a few weeks away, but that didn't stop you from plucking and braiding.

You and the girls had been having this fantasy of spending this excessive amount of time in nature with flower crowns on your heads, inspired by Scandinavian summer solstice traditions. For weeks you all had been painting this picture in your conversations, anticipation bubbling up every time the topic came up. The picture of the four of you with the flowers of summer in your hair, in the deep green shades and distinct scent of the forest surrounding your every breath these days, had rented a big part of your mind, long before you had stepped on the bus, bringing you here.

"Hm? Oh yeah, definitely."

Losing yourself a little in the thought again, you hadn't yet taken notice of how two figures from the group of people in the water in front of you were missing.

You would learn soon, though.

Because before you knew it, a pair of strong, wet hands hooked themselves in the space of your armpits, lifting you up to stand, while another set of arms wasn't too shy to grab both your legs off the ground, wrapping themselves around your knees.

"Let's get you nice and wet, shall we?", you heard Steve's voice come out behind you in an absurdly husky tone, while–

"Time for your bath, princess!"

Eddie.

You were so taken by surprise, you couldn't even get anything in form of a verbal protest out.

The only thing you saw before your vision went black due to your reflexes was Eddie's mischievous grin between strands of his dark and wet curly mane, Steve's pearly whites being flashed at you equally prominent. Their laughter got muffled by the water invading your ear canals, and the sudden shock of the cold liquid surrounding every inch of your sun warmed skin was forcing a gasp out of your lungs.

When you returned to the surface, both of the boys held onto their bellies, high-fiving one another and still laughing on that pier like two fucking dipshits at you as well as at Nancy who apparently got to suffer the same fate as you, being dropped into the ocean mere seconds later.

With the back of your fingers you wiped the water out of your eyes along with strands of your hair that were clinging onto your cheeks for dear life, while you gathered back clear vision.

Unknowing to the two boys, Jonathan, Lucas and Dustin were currently in the process of sneaking up behind them. With big splashes both Eddie and Steve were forced to ungracefully breach the waves next to you, letting out equally surprised gasps for air before they had to instinctively hold their breaths.

You burst out into another laughing fit when the metalhead slowly appeared next to you just as soaked as half an hour ago, his hair now covering his entire face.

You took one stroke towards him while Jonathan and Dustin landed in the water not too far from you, shortly after being followed by Lucas and Max cannonballing their way in to join everyone.

The laughter and giggles filled the warm air, and you took both your hands to wipe Eddie's mane out of his face, just to reveal his brown chocolate orbs and a dorky smile, gazing at you from underneath.

The ground of the lake where you were finding yourself was close enough for you both to stand on, which made not sinking a lot easier.

"Thanks, sweetheart" was the only thing he brought out before putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer before wrapping both his arms around your middle, while you responded by wrapping yours around his shoulders.

You thought he was going to bury his face in the crook of your neck with how close he was leaning in just now, connecting his lips to your skin, but all he really did was briefly running his nose over the side of your neck in an upwards motion. Giving you a little nudge while letting out another one of his hums.

It was almost like he wanted to do more than that, it was almost like you could feel him holding himself back. It was almost like you wanted him not to.

His warm breath hit the wet skin on your collarbone and it sent a slight shiver right through your system at the sheer thought of what exactly he was holding back.

And just when you felt him let go of you a bit more, you saw your chance at taking at least a little bit of revenge on him. For conspiring against you with Steve Harrington.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, found purchase on the ground, and your own weight forced him to go head below surface once again.

"Oh darling, that was an unwise decision", was all you heard before he returned the favour, his entire weight on yours as he drowned you beneath him, just before bringing one of his unnecessarily muscular arms around you to pull you back up again swiftly.

Soon after a few more dunks that you practised on Steve and Dustin, your swimming session came to an end when the sun had disappeared behind the trees and the sunset-ish colours of the horizon had faded into several shades of purple and blue.

After fresh showers that helped with rinsing off the lake water and smuck and sweat of the day, the older boys had decided to drop you off at the flower cabin, a nickname for your particular accommodation facility Lucas had come up with during the first bonfire.

To say goodnight or something.

Eddie held you in his grasp, pressed you into his chest for a second, letting you know that you meant something to him, shooting you one last glance, a hint of wistfulness in it, before disappearing surprisingly quickly into the dusk of the forest, towards the cabin he shared with the others.

You hugged Steve and Jonathan goodnight as well, the latter wearing a smirk on his face and you instantly wondered about the reason.

When you looked at your own pillow, you stopped wondering. A polaroid photo had been placed there for decoration, and you let yourself plop down on the mattress to inspect it more closely.

Jonathan had only recently started shooting polaroid in the first place, and the sun had delivered enough light for him to avoid using flash for this one, which had the colours of everything come out more natural.

The photo showed Eddie in his bus seat. You in yours, resting with his arm wrapped around you, his head on yours, both with your headphones on, both passed out. Steve, Dustin, Will and Robin behind you with widened eyes, tongues out and peace signs up.

Unable to hide the smile that spread on your face, you placed the photo on the little nightstand accompanying the bed.

Everyone knew. You knew. Eddie probably knew. But who would say it first?

-----

taglist: @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @spellbounddd, @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint, @mystars123, @gothmingguk, @kennafild, @chloe-6123, @michaelfuckinglangdon and @bakugouswh0r3

#eddie munson x reader #the law of seat partners #part 3 everyone wow #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fluff #please be kind #and reblog #and let me know your thoughts #pls #this was a wild ride and took me a lot of nerves #nora writes

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